threeorphanpilgrimage

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 84 - A Separation

"Devlin?" said Clem expectedly. "Can you hear me?" Clem waited for a response, then sighed when she didn't get one. She took a deep breath, then held the talk button on her radio again. "Patty, Jet, if any of you can hear me, Sarah and I are at the meeting place, the one we all talked about if we couldn't meet anywhere else and had to move again. We left the code on the road signs so you can find us. Just please… please say something if you can hear me." Again, Clem waited for a reply, and again, she didn't get one.

In the days following Anthony's death, Clem had realized if Devlin was still alive, he would know to try to contact them over the radio and warn them what Anthony did, and yet they had heard nothing. Her first thought was she had been wrong, and that despite all of Anthony's lying he wasn't lying about Devlin's fate. Then she remembered, he somehow lost his radio after returning from the farm, and Clem wondered if he didn't somehow 'lose' Devlin's as well.

Clem changed the channel on the radio and repeated her message, always waiting for a reply at the end of it. For two weeks now she had done this, every morning after she woke up, every afternoon after she ate lunch, and every night before she went to sleep. And for two weeks she hadn't received an answer, on any channel, at anytime of the day, from anyone. Yet she persisted, holding onto hope that her friends were still out there, if just because there was little else for her to do while she lay in bed every day.

When not trying to contact the others, Clem was forced to sit and think about everything that had happened. The more time passed the more confident she grew had made the right decision. If Anthony could so easily try to murder her after pretending to be friends with them for so long, she couldn't imagine what else he could do if left alive. But Clem wouldn't have believed he was capable of that if she hadn't seen it herself, and Sarah hadn't seen that, but she did see Clem kill Anthony right in front of her, and that had changed everything between them.

Sarah still tended to Clem's needs; bringing her meals, reminding her to take her medicine, and occasionally checking on her wound, which she said appeared to be healing properly. But that's all she would say, and her words had become cold and detached. Clem barely saw Sarah during the day anymore, and despite her assurances that she was getting healthier, Sarah always remained in the other half of the Brave, sleeping on the foldout couch and leaving Clem alone at night.

The changes were most obvious when they were around Omid, who had become the single source of joy to both girls in these bleak times. It had been a lot like there time back in Spokeston, spending all day and every day playing and talking with the boy they loved. The difference was they never spent time with him together anymore, practically taking turns being alone with Omid. Sarah was with him right now, and Clem had little to do but call into her radio until it was her turn to be with Omid again.

Clem changed the channel and prepared to repeat her message, but couldn't summon the will to do it this time. Every time she said their names she was forced to think about them, and how much she desperately wanted them back, and every time she used her radio, they felt even further away. After two weeks of this routine, Clem finally couldn't bear to go through the motions anymore and set her radio aside.

Sick of lying in bed, Clem stood up and looked out the window. After snaking their way across the backroads of Kansas, Sarah had found an isolated intersection in Nebraska that connected with Interstate Eighty. She had taken the time to paint the word 'Ceres' on road signs several miles in both directions, pointing the way to a large truck stop. The abandoned semitrailers there helped to camouflage the Brave from sight, while painting the word 'CERES' on a nearby billboard would signal the others where they were, if the others were indeed still alive.

Clem wasn't sure what she was expecting to see. After a week with nothing but a parking lot to stare at, Sarah was kind enough to turn the Brave around so Clem could at least watch the intersection. Sometimes, when she wasn't with Omid, she would just stare at the road and hope she'd see the Sunseeker driving by, but it never happened. Nothing ever seemed to change in fact. Every day just rolled into the next one.

With no signs of hope out the window, Clem sat down. She groaned as she felt a stinging sensation in her side. The pain was less severe now, more of an irritation than a handicap, but a constant one when not medicated. Clem grabbed the bottle of painkillers but a pill didn't roll out when she tilted it forward. Looking inside, Clem saw there were still pills but not many, just barely enough to cover the bottom of the container. This unnerved Clem, but not as much as the pain did, so she carefully removed another pill and popped it up her mouth.

She reached for the bottle of water, only to discover it was empty. Clem groaned, then headed for the door. She inched quietly out of the bedroom, not wanting Sarah to notice her. Clem saw her on the couch with Omid, making the boy laugh with funny faces. Clem couldn't help smiling as she listened to Omid's giggles, but then frowned a little as she remembered she couldn't join them. Instead, Clem quietly snuck into the bathroom, hoping they didn't notice her.

Clem went to the sink and turned on the facet. Water started spurting out in tiny intervals and kept splashing out of Clem's cupped heads. With no signs of the problem abating, Clem quickly swallowed what little water she had along with the pill in her mouth, grimacing as she felt it nearly getting stuck in her throat.

Wiping her lips, Clem spotted the bottom of her bandage in the mirror. The bit sticking out from under her shirt was peeling and Clem could see a bit of reddened flesh underneath it. Finding her curiosity getting the best of her, Clem lifted her shirt and slowly peeled the bandage off, grimacing as she felt it tugging at her skin. Tossing away the dressings, Clem was relieved there was almost no blood on them, but still hesitated to look at her wound.

When she finally summoned the courage to examine it, Clem was most surprised by how small it was. It wasn't much bigger than a quarter, and just looked like a faded red dot that had been sewn shut by a couple of crude stitches. Noticing the black threads stuck in her flesh, Clem realized the stitches were probably more of a source of her pain than the wound anymore. She located a small pair of scissors they kept in the bathroom for their hair and took another breath.

Snipping the threads was painful, and pulling them out of her side was even worse. She could feel them tugging on her tender flesh as she removed the stitches one at a time. She had to bite her lip to keep from yelping out in pain, and anytime it felt like she was nearly done she'd discover there was more thread to remove. Finally tossing the final stitch away, Clem breathed a sigh of relief, then noticed the several more stitches on her back and the larger gash in her back.

"You want more?" giggled Sarah as Clem stepped out of the bathroom. "Tell me if you want more."

"More!" cheered Omid as Sarah made another face. Clementine thought about just returning to bedroom, but just turning in place caused her to feel the stitches in her back stinging the area around her injury. Instead, Clem took a breath and approached the pair.

"Kem-men!" Clem's blood ran cold as she watched Sarah's smile disappear. Slowly she turned her head and looked over at Clem.

"Hey," spoke a nervous Clem.

Sarah turned away. "Hi," she answered. "Are you okay? Do you need something?"

The tone of Sarah's voice hurt Clem more than her side. "My… my stitches are bothering me. I took out a couple of them out, but—"

"It's probably time to remove them" Sarah paused for a second while she stroked Omid's hair. "Let me find something to keep him distracted for a minute and I'll come into the bedroom and take care of you."

"Okay."

Sarah turned back to Omid while Clem stood there awkwardly for a second before shuffling back to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed and waited patiently as she could hear Sarah and Omid laughing in the other room. Eventually, the laughter stopped and a little while after that Sarah entered. She instructed Clem to turn onto her uninjured side, and then she spent the next several minutes trying not to yell out in pain while Sarah removed the stitches.

It was far from the worst thing Clem had endured, but only because she had suffered so many terrible things by now. The sensation of tweezers pulling on a thread that then yanked on her already sore flesh was yet another miserable experience Clem added to her growing list. The only thing that made it a little better was Sarah's occasional apologies. Every time she said she was sorry, Clem could tell just meant it, and that made it clear she still cared about her.

"Okay, that's the last one," said Sarah as Clem felt a final painful tug. "How do you feel?"

"Better now," said Clem as she took a breath. "And I think the painkiller is working, so it's not so bad at this point."

"That's good."

Clem rolled over and looked at as much of her injury as she could see. Small or not, it still unnerved her; the red circle of misshapen flesh and the uneven gash dotted with small holes from where the stitches used to be. Despite feeling better, staring at her uncovered wound made Clem feel like she had just been shot all over again. In addition to being yet another reminder of how close she came to dying, it also forced Clem to think about the damage the bullet did just below the skin; the damage that could still be there, and that Sarah couldn't fix.

"All right, if you need me just say something." Sarah quickly headed for the door.

"Wait." Sarah stopped but didn't turn around.

"Is something wrong?" asked Sarah, a hint of concern creeping into her voice. "Are you okay?"

"We…" Clem bit her lip before saying anything else. "We're running out of painkillers."

"Yeah, I know, and we're half out of Xanax too," said Sarah with a sigh. "But there's nothing we can do about that, so we'll just have to make them last until you're better."

"Can't we get more?" asked Clem.

"I wouldn't even know what to look for."

"We can't just go to a pharmacy and—"

"They didn't sell painkillers in regular stores, you'd need a prescription, same for the Xanax. And their real names are really long and weird, and not always the same one."

Clem picked up a bottle and looked at the label. Someone had written 'XANAX' in marker at the top, but the actual name printed on the faded label was 'ALPRAZOLAM'.

"That… that doesn't make any sense," spoke a baffled Clem. "Why would they put a name on it that's different from what it's called?"

"I'm not sure. I asked Patty once and she said something about there being 'generics' and 'name-brands'. I wish I'd paid more attention to what she told me…" said Sarah as she lowered her head.

"And there's a lot of different types of painkillers, but I don't know the names of any of them but the ones in that bottle. Devlin said someone in Tulsa knew and had labeled them for everyone else, but I don't know how they knew and none of the books I have are about medicine itself."

"I didn't know it was that complicated," said Clem as she set the bottle down.

"Yeah, me neither until recently," spoke a weary Sarah. "Anything else?"

"Um, yeah… we… the sink—"

"Is acting weird," finished Sarah. "I know, I looked at the water pump, as much as I can see of it, but I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Maybe the water tank is just running low?"

"No, I checked the tank and even used a few bottled waters to make sure it wasn't empty, it's just… acting up, sort of like the shower has been for a while now," said Sarah, sounding more tired with every word she said. "Maybe if Sin was still here, or Jet even."

"Oh…" said Clem, feeling even worse for having asked.

"Anything else?"

"No."

"All right." Sarah opened the door.

"Wait," said Clem. "We… we need to talk."

"I don't want to talk," answered Sarah immediately.

"Well we need to," demanded Clem. "We can't just wait here forever."

"We're just waiting until Patty and Jet get here," asserted Sarah.

"And Devlin," added Clem.

"Devlin's dead," insisted Sarah as she spun around. "You know that."

"We don't know that. He—"

"He's dead! Just like how Patty and Jet are probably dead, just like how Anthony's dead… because of you!" Those last three words stung Clem as Sarah suddenly covered her face with both hands. Clem had been dreading this conversation for a while and had hoped if she just waited long enough, Devlin would arrive and explain everything to Sarah, but he hadn't.

"How… how could you do something like that?" Sarah sobbed at Clem. "After everything that's happened, everything we've been through, and everything we've lost, you killed the only person we had left… why?"

"I told you, he—"

"There's no way he tried to kill you," dictated Sarah.

"You think I'd lie about that?" asked a shocked Clem.

"Of course not," assured Sarah, her tone softening slightly. "But… but that can't be what happened. It doesn't make any sense."

"Well, then what?" asked a nervous Clem as Sarah stared at her. "What do you think happened?"

"I think… I think you were confused."

"I wasn't—"

"Or having a nightmare."

"I wasn't."

"Yes, yes you were, like the one you had after we caught Pedro, or that other one the morning we left Spokeston. You remember that? It was so bad you just ran out of the house and when I found you in the yard, you were yelling about someone breaking in." Sarah's glare suddenly morphed into a look of concern. "I… I know how much you worry about us and… that wouldn't have been the first time you've woken up with someone pointing a gun at you. Things are so bad that… even the worst nightmares can come true now."

Clem was surprised to hear Sarah actually sound sympathetic to her again, but it lasted only a moment before Sarah scowled at her. "But because you didn't like Anthony, you didn't even think it was a nightmare when he told you."

"That's not true."

"And you wouldn't listen to me when I just told you to put the gun down!"

"Because you weren't listening to me! He was going to kill me!"

"He was leaving, because he actually listened to me!"

"Then he grabbed you!"

"And then you shot him!"

"Because he was going to take you away from me and Omid!"

A loud shrieking suddenly cut through the air. Clem and Sarah looked over to see Omid standing at the door, choking for breath as tears and snot ran down his face.

"Omid, we—"

Omid took off screaming into the other room. Clem and Sarah both hurried after him as he tried to climb into his crib.

"Omid," said Sarah. "Don't cry, we—"

Omid shrieked at Sarah when she touched him, clumsily swatting his arm in her direction before falling onto the carpet. He started crawling forward towards the front of the Brave next, trying to escape the pair as they pursued him.

"Please, Omid, just—"

"Nooo!" Omid yelled at Clem, practically choking for breath as he pulled free from her grip. The pair watched in horror as Omid started crawling down the steps and to the door.

"Omid, no!" Sarah moved forward and grabbed him, prompting Omid to start screaming in protest.

"Noooo! No! Nooooo!"

"We're sorry," pleaded Clem as she moved in close as Omid thrashed about like mad in Sarah's arms.

"Please stop crying, we're not mad at you."

Omid opened his eyes and his crying abated slightly as Clem placed her hand on Sarah's shoulder.

"Don't," said Sarah as she pulled away from Clem's grip, which prompted Omid to start crying louder.

"Wait," said Clem as she moved in closer to Sarah. She put both hands on Sarah's shoulders and after a few seconds, Omid started crying less. "He wants to know we're not going to fight anymore." Clem wrapped her hands around Sarah's waist and felt Sarah briefly try to pull away. Omid stopped crying and Clem felt Sarah wrap an arm around her, or more specifically, Sarah moved her arm around Clementine while holding it just far enough away to not make contact.

The illusion was enough to pacify Omid, who finally stopped crying. The pair then worked together to clean Omid up, give him something to eat, and just be as friendly as possible to get him to calm down. It was a bittersweet experience for Clem, this was the first time she had gotten to be with Omid and Sarah at the same time in a while. It felt great playing with Omid together again, but there was a forced enthusiasm in the way Sarah spoke that made it clear she didn't share Clem's view of the situation.

Eventually, after countless games of peek-a-boo, funny faces, and stacking things for Omid to knock over, he was finally tired enough to be put down for a nap. Watching Omid sleep in his crib was a relief at first, but the sight was also a concerning one. He barely fit in his old crib anymore and Clem couldn't help noticing he still looked distressed even while asleep, like he was having a nightmare, not much different than how he had looked after she shot Anthony.

Eventually, Sarah yawned and headed off to the bedroom with Clem following behind her.

"You can't keep avoiding me like this," said Clem as she shut the door behind them. "Omid doesn't—"

"Don't bring Omid into this," dictated Sarah in an angry but hushed voice. "We're not gonna fight in front of him again, but that doesn't mean I just have to forgive you."

"Forgive me?" repeated Clem, finding it hard to conceal her irritation at Sarah anymore.

"You just shot Anthony right in front of me, in front of Omid! I… I don't even know if I feel safe around you anymore."

"Sarah…" spoke Clem, utterly devastated by her words. "I love you. I'd never hurt you. You… you have to know that."

"You love me…" repeated Sarah.

"You don't believe me?"

"It's just, you sound like my dad anytime I asked him about stuff he did that I knew wasn't right."

"It's not like that."

"It isn't?" snapped Sarah. "I still remember him pointing that gun at Christa because he was supposedly protecting me."

"Christa wasn't Anthony."

"Yeah, she was pointing a gun back him," retorted Sarah.

"I was holding Anthony's gun," reminded Clem through clenched teeth. "How do you think I got it if he didn't have it out?"

"I… I don't know." Clem watched as Sarah's face suddenly twisted to one of pain, as if that question physically wounded her. "What… what did you think Anthony was going to do me? What… what could've been so bad that you thought you had to shoot him when he grabbed my hand?"

"I don't know Sarah, that was what was scaring me."

"That's not good enough. Anthony would never…" Sarah bit her lip. "We could have worked it out, whatever happened or whatever he did, we could have worked it out; you didn't have to shoot him."

"I'm sorry Sarah," apologized Clem with utter sincerity. She didn't regret killing Anthony, but she regretted how much it clearly hurt Sarah. "I know you liked him and—"

"This isn't about me liking him," insisted Sarah. "You think I haven't noticed the sink is messed up or that we're running out medicine. Not to mention we're not getting any more food, and the food we do have is probably going bad."

"It is?" asked a frightened Clem. "I thought canned stuff never went bad?"

"I did too, but lately I feel sick after eating it and can't stop thinking about what if there's something wrong with it, some other horrible thing no one has told us about yet," rambled Sarah. "And those cans are all the food we got. Once that runs out, then what?"

"We'll get more, together, like we used to."

"You mean like how we used to almost got eaten by lurkers all the time, or like how someone almost stole our RV, or we nearly broke it running away from more lurkers, or all the other horrible stuff that went wrong when it was just us? And that was all before Omid started walking."

"What does that have to with any of this?"

"He's getting bigger and he hates being in the RV all the time. That wasn't the first time he tried to use the door, I caught him trying to do that just yesterday, and eventually he's gonna be tall enough to use the handle and he'll get out like… that one time he actually did, except there won't be anyone but us now, and whatever's out there probably won't be as nice as those people we met in Texarkana."

"I… I hadn't thought about that," admitted Clem.

"Even with Anthony and you getting better it was going to be really hard, and now he's gone and you're still hurt and… I have no idea what to do." Sarah started crying into her hands and Clem moved into to comfort her, but again she just pulled away from Clem's touch and looked up with a renewed anger. "I'm not stupid Clem, I know Anthony could say mean things, and be really annoying, and do things that he... he really shouldn't have, but we needed his help right now."

"Sarah…"

"And whatever he did, he didn't deserve to die for it."

"What if he did?" This question disturbed Sarah, and Clem watched as the anger in her eyes disappeared in a single blink. "You say I was confused or having a nightmare, but what if I wasn't, and everything I said happened really happened? Then what?"

Sarah turned away suddenly, but not before Clem got a glimpse of her face; she was utterly horrified and Clementine felt guilty for saying what she said, even though it was true. Clem had never even gotten along with Anthony and even she had found the revelation of who he was terrifying. For someone like Sarah, who always did try to see the best in people, Clem couldn't imagine how much more painful it would be to face that.

"If…" Sarah turned back to Clem, her eyes quivering and her face racked in pain. "If you can look me in the eyes, and honestly say that Anthony, all this time, was just… lying to us, and didn't care about us at all, and was just… some… monster… who tried to kill you one day for no reason, then… then I guess… I… I…"

Clem looked deep into Sarah's eyes. It was clear she was beginning to process the possibility of what Clem had told her, and it was tearing Sarah apart. Her eyes were wide-open in anticipation of Clem's answer, while her breathing was getting shorter and faster every second, like she was on the verge of a panic attack. And with every passing second, her face grew more twisted with pain, until it looked like she was ready to scream out in agony.

"I…" Clem turned away from Sarah suddenly, unable to bear the sight of her suffering anymore. "I could have been wrong…" lied Clem in a quiet voice.

"God Clem…"

"I didn't like Anthony, but that's not why I shot him. I was scared, and I really thought he was going to kill me, and when he grabbed you I… I was afraid of what he might do to you." Clem explained hastily before turning back to Sarah. She was relieved to see the agony that had been gripping Sarah's face was gone now, but that had been replaced with a stern look of condemnation directed right at Clem. "I'm sorry. It was a mistake but—"

"That's a pretty big mistake Clem," spoke Sarah in a harsh voice. "You killed someone, because you were scared."

"I… I know…" mumbled Clem as she found her chest tightening.

"I mean, how do you kill someone by mistake?"

"It… it just happened," confessed Clem without thinking as Sarah's words brought to mind a different murder.

"How could you just—"

"I was scared, okay!" cried Clem. "I was so scared I was going to die, and I was even more scared that then you and Omid would die, all because I didn't do and so I did and… I wish I could take it back."

Clem started crying into her hands as she thought back to the day before they moved. Sarah was judging her for Anthony's death, but everything she was saying applied to the woman she shot. As she wept, Clem kept hoping Sarah would finally comfort her, take her into her arms and forgive him, but it didn't happen. Eventually, Clem wiped her eyes and looked up at Sarah. She wasn't angry anymore and looked sympathetic even, but there still was this hint of disappointment hanging on her face that Clem couldn't ignore.

"Well... what's done is done," mumbled Sarah under her breath. "So now what? What do we do?"

"We…. we can't stay here forever," concluded Clem.

"No, but, we could probably wait a bit longer," reasoned Sarah. "We don't know, maybe Patty and Jet are still coming."

"They could have forgotten about the interstate," suggested Clem. "We barely remembered it, so maybe we should go back to Tulsa, see if they're waiting for us there."

"No, that's not a good idea."

"Why not? They may have forgotten about the plan, or maybe they missed the code we left for them." Clem had suspected Anthony never actually left the code on the Sam's Club door, but didn't dare say that out loud. "We didn't even check the Citadel, and—"

"It's too dangerous," insisted Sarah. "We don't know who took the food from Tulsa, but whoever they were they didn't care at all about the signs we left telling them to wait. We left instructions, guides, and a big banner saying we'd come to help them, and they didn't wait for us."

"Yeah, that's true, but maybe they were afraid of us, afraid it was a trap."

"Maybe, but whoever they were had to be a really big group to pack up so much so fast," added Sarah. "I was thinking about what Sin and Jet said, about Houston, and also what Devlin said about the army from Oklahoma City; what if the troops in Houston had to leave, and they were the ones who found Tulsa? Do we want to risk running into them?"

Clementine thought back to her time in Mobile, and the ghoulish sight of an entire arena of people melted into a mess of wailing charred corpses. Then she thought back to the time they fought their way into Tulsa, and the image of Devlin beating the corpse of one of the soldiers. He was always such a calm and understanding person, except in that moment; he was filled with nothing but rage.

"You're right, it's not worth the risk," realized Clem. "I guess we should just go then."

"Go? Why?"

"Like I said, we can't stay here forever."

"Yeah, I know," spoke Sarah, sounding nervous suddenly. "But I figure we could wait a little bit longer."

"There's no point," said Clem. "If Patty and Jet are out there we can leave codes on Interstate Eighty for them to find us. It's possible they're already on the interstate ahead of us, and might be leaving signs for us to find. I mean, this wasn't the only road that led from Tulsa to Nebraska, right?"

"No, there were a lot of them actually," admitted Sarah. "I wanted to avoid going near any big cities and—"

"Patty and Jet could have taken a different road, and be waiting for us further west," suggested a hopeful Clem.

"What if they're not?" asked a less hopeful Sarah.

"Then… we just need to go already, because no one is coming."

"But where? Where can we go?"

"Like we said, we'll go west, hope there's something still out there while stopping to look for food along the way," explained Clem.

"You mean, I'll need to stop and look for food, by myself." Clem could hear the terror gripping Sarah's trembling voice. Her eyes briefly darted down towards Clem's side, then sighed. "I guess… I guess I don't have a choice; you're still hurt, and we're gonna need it."

"Well, we don't need to look right now. We have enough for—"

"It'll run out and when it does we'll regret we not looking for food when we could." Sarah took a deep breath as she slumped over, like she just felt the great weight being placed on her shoulders. "So we're just gonna wander around and hope we find something? Somewhere safe, and not somewhere terrible, like we usually find. We're… we're right back to where we started."

"We… we are." Clem felt herself becoming sick as she realized what Sarah said was true.

"What's the point anymore?" mumbled Sarah. "Everything always goes wrong, no matter what we do."

"We… we can't give up," Clem forced herself to say. "You told me that just a few weeks ago."

"Well, maybe I was wrong," said Sarah with a shrug.

"You… you weren't," insisted Clem, finding it difficult to muster much conviction in her words. "And…"

"And what?"

Clem thought hard, then stood up. She pulled open the door and walked over to Omid's crib, where the boy was still sleeping. "We both promised Christa we wouldn't give up on the world before it was over," said Clem as she rubbed Omid's hair.

"That doesn't matter." Clem was shocked to hear Sarah say that. She turned and watched as Sarah knelt down to get a better look at Omid. "Even if we hadn't, we can't give up on him. Like you said, he deserves better than just living in an RV his whole life." Sarah reached down and gently stroked Omid's face. "I'll go update the code I wrote for Jet and Patty to see, so they know we're going west if they're still alive. We can update the other ones I made west of here along the way to point them the right way, and then… we can start looking again."

"Okay."

"Just watch Omid, I'll be right back." Clem watched as Sarah retrieved a can of spray paint from the closet, then headed outside. Clem went back to Omid's side and watched him sleep. He still looked bothered, but also so sweet and innocent as he slept. With all the tragedy and loss she's had to endure over the last few weeks, Clem only now realized they also had lost the future they had been building for him.

All the time they spent tending fields, carrying water, and building things, she hadn't time to really think about what it all meant for Omid. That he would have had a home, could eat well, be safe, and live happily. It was everything Clem wanted, and now she realized it was also everything she wanted to give Omid, and losing that for him hurt even more than losing it for herself. And as she watched him sleep, Clem struggled to think how she could possibly give him all that ever again.

Sarah returned and put the spray paint back in the closet. She then turned to Clem, as if she was expecting guidance, but Clem had no idea what to do, neither of them did.

"Are… are you done?" asked Clem, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah," confirmed Sarah with a slight nod.

"So… now what?"

"Now… we go I guess," Sarah sounded more like she was asking a question. She stood there for a second, as if she was expecting an answer from Clem, then headed over to the driver's seat. "There's no reason to stay here," said Sarah as she grabbed the keys off the dashboard. "There's no reason to stay anywhere right now."

"Yeah, let's just… keep moving."

Sarah turned the key, which produced an uneven rumbling sound for a few seconds before becoming quiet. She had to turn it twice more before the engine finally started. Sitting down next to Sarah as she pulled the Brave out of the truck stop, Clem caught sight of the billboard she used to signal the others. It still said 'CERES' in giant yellow letters painted over whatever faded ad used to be there. Sarah hadn't underlined any of the letters before because they were staying here, but now there were two big lines under the first 'E', where the 'W' in Owens would have been, signaling they were heading west.

After watching the billboard disappear into the horizon, Clementine turned around to once again find herself looking out over an empty road that went on seemingly forever. She only just now realized how much she hated this sight. No matter how far they traveled, the road had only led them to reprieves from danger or danger itself. All Clem could do is pray this time would be different as she couldn't bear the burdens of this voyage for much longer. If the road didn't end soon, it would end her, and all she held dear.

Previous Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 83 - God Laughs

Clementine awoke to find her side aching like it always did. Reaching for the painkillers, she discovered it was easier for her to move than it had been for the last week. She was still in pain, but the weakness that had plagued her was now only a fraction of what it had been. Looking at the iron supplements on the dresser, Clem grabbed them as well and swallowed a pill from each with a gulp of water. After hearing voices outside, Clem headed for the door, finding herself relieved she was able to walk without much trouble this morning.

"I really don't think you need to bother." Clem saw Anthony talking to Sarah at the front of the Brave. "I mean, with everything that's happened, the laundry can wait."

"I want to do it. It's a nice day and it makes me feel… normal," insisted Sarah as she picked up a basket. "And Clem and Omid are still asleep, so I've got time for once."

Clem pulled the door nearly closed so Sarah wouldn't see her.

"I just don't like spending too long in the same place," said Anthony.

"We're probably a hundred miles away from the farm and Tulsa by now," dismissed Sarah. "I don't think we could find ourselves at this point, let alone the people who attacked us."

"Yeah, probably, but I'm not sure about going to I-Eighty though."

"We talked about this, if Patty and Jet—"

"It's a big risk to go wait on such a huge road just on the off chance they're still alive."

"Anthony…"

"I'm serious. If there are other people out there, and we know there are, they might be using that interstate too," added Anthony. "Whoever cleaned out Tulsa had to be a huge group. I mean, they emptied the Sam's Club in under two weeks. It took a couple of weeks just for me and Devlin to load two trailers of—"

"God, Devlin," said Sarah as she rubbed her eyes. "Everything he did for us and we can't even bury him…"

"There was nothing I could have done," assured Anthony.

"Yeah, I know, it's starting to feel like there's nothing any of us can do…" Clem watched as Anthony moved closer to Sarah and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, I know I ain't the easiest person to put up with and sometimes I get kind of pushy," confessed Anthony in an uncharacteristically concerned tone. "But it's only because I care about you Sarah, and I'm afraid of losing what I got left with you. You and Omid."

"And Clem," added Sarah.

"Yeah, of course, her too," said Anthony. "And she's gonna get better now, right?"

"Yeah, she will." Sarah headed for the door, a basket of laundry in her arms. "Listen out for her if she needs help but try not to wake her up, she needs as much rest as she can get." Watching Sarah step out the door, Clem headed back into bed. She was feeling better but figured the best thing she could do is heed Sarah's advice. She pushed her bedpan aside and crawled back under the covers. This was probably the first morning in a long time Clem felt relaxed enough to sleep in, but just as she got comfortable she felt something slowly pulling the covers off of her.

"What… what are you doing here?" asked a panicked Clem as she looked up at a surprised Anthony. "What… what is that?" Clem found her eyes moving to a strange object in Anthony's hand. It looked like a spike fashioned out of a rotten chunk of wood. "What the hell is that?"

"Goddamn it," said Anthony as he carefully threaded the odd spike into a crude looking sheath.

"What are you doing in here?" Clem repeated, more accusing than asking as Anthony pocketed the strange tool. "Get out. Right—"

Clem became silent as a pillow was forcibly pressed against her face. She panicked as she tried to pry it off, but Anthony was far too strong for her. Clem then started thrashing her hands upwards as she felt herself getting dizzy from the lack of air. She had hoped to find Anthony's eyes in her grip but could only reach his arm, and no amount of clawing at it seemed to help.

Clem tried yelling through the pillow only to feel the fabric forced into her mouth, choking her. Everything went dark and Clem could feel her head getting light as her arms became harder to move; she was dying. She let go of Anthony's arm and started flailing about in desperation for anything that could help. Her hand brushed against something metal and Clem gripped it as hard as she could. Just as she was starting to gag, Clem forced herself to swing the object blindly upwards with as much force as she could muster.

"Ah!" Clem felt the pillow pulled off her face and immediately took several panicked breaths in a row. Looking over, she saw Anthony in the corner rubbing his head. He looked up at her, a deathly glint in his eyes, then he looked at a gun lying on the bed. Clem snapped forward as Anthony stood up and hurled himself at the bed. Clem's fingers wrapped around the pistol and pulled it away just as Anthony collided with the mattress. She pointed the gun right at his face, prompting him to leap backwards in a panic.

"Whoa, whoa, don't!"

"Get back!" ordered Clem as she sprang out bed, her finger on the trigger and adrenaline coursing through her veins. "You stay away from me!"

"I will," assured Anthony as he backed out of the room. Clem hastily popped out the pistol's chambers and saw they were all loaded, then popped them back in and stepped out of the bedroom. The first thing Clem spotted was a now awake Omid looking at her from his crib.

"Kem-men."

"Omid!" called Clem before turning to Anthony. "Stay away from him or I'll kill you!"

"I'm not going near him," said Anthony as he pushed himself as close to the wall opposite of Omid as he could.

"Omid, come here, just come to me," said Clem as the boy climbed out of his crib. "You… you just take some ice-cream here," said Clem as she hurried to the closet and grabbed an already open pack of ice-cream. "You just go eat as much as you want, okay?" Clem tossed the ice-cream into the bedroom. "Can you do that for me? Please?"

"Ah-bree!" Omid chased after his favorite treat and Clem slid the bedroom door closed behind him. Turning back to Anthony, Clem saw his right hand slipping into his pocket.

"Freeze!" Anthony stopped moving as Clem pointed the gun at him again. "Whatever that it is, take it out of your pocket." Anthony began to remove his hand from his pocket. "Slowly!" He glared at Clem, then very slowly removed something small and black.

"What is that?" Anthony didn't answer. "Toss over it here, right now!" Anthony sighed, then tossed the object onto to the carpet in front of Clem. She knelt down, keeping the gun aimed at Anthony as she did, then scooped it off the floor. It appeared to be a small black tube, possibly a crushed toilet paper roll completely covered in thick black duct tape.

Noticing a seam in the middle of it, Clem pulled on the top. It came right off and revealed a grizzly looking spike jutting out of the bottom of the tube. It appeared to be a very crudely sharpened blade that was made out of something hard. At first Clem thought it was wooden, but examining it more closely, it didn't look like any piece of wood she had ever seen before.

"Is… is this a bone?" asked Clem as she stared at it. "Did… did you make this out of a walker's bone?" Clem noted the dark green coloring on the spike looked like a match for the bones of old and worn out walkers. And the shaft leading up to the spike had a slight curve to it, like a leg or arm bone might have. "You… you were going to kill me, with this, weren't you? You'd were going to cut me with it and then, it'd be like a walker bit me, because their teeth are made out of bone."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Anthony, sounding unnaturally calm and casual.

"I just saw you! You were just about to cut me with this!"

"I just came in to check on you and you pulled a gun on me."

"What?!"

"Now you're rambling on about some weird piece of junk I've never seen before."

"What… what are you doing?" asked a baffled Clem.

"I could ask you to the same thing," said Anthony as he crossed his arms.

"You're… you're fucking crazy," concluded a horrified Clem.

"That's rich coming from you."

"From me?"

"You're standing around in your underwear pointing a gun at me while rambling on about bones," listed Anthony. "You're freaking me out."

"You… you have no idea what this is?" asked Clem as she held up the crude blade.

"I never saw that before today," said Anthony with complete confidence.

"Never?"

"Never."

Clem tossed the blade at Anthony and he leapt out of the way with all the speed and grace of a crazed jack-rabbit. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"You lying piece of shit! You were going to kill me!"

"You're crazy!" accused Anthony. "If I were gonna kill, why wouldn't I just shoot you?"

"You were going to shoot me, that's why you had this gun!" accused Clem as she brandished the weapon in the air.

"You had that, and I don't know how you got it," stated Anthony. "Clearly you've gone nuts. First you say I was gonna kill you with some magic bone, then I was gonna shoot you? Listen to yourself, you're not making sense."

"I… I saw you—"

"You must have been dreaming or something," insisted Anthony. "I went to check on you and you were tossing and turning in bed before—"

"Stop lying!"

"I ain't lying."

"Yes you are! You're lying right to my face! Like you think I'm stupid or something and I'll believe you and…" Clem felt the weight of her words bearing down on her as she said them. The way Anthony's voice never seemed to change no matter what he said, no matter how blatantly untrue or absurd his statements were, was shocking. Nearly every word was delivered with that same kind of casual confidence that made them sound true. Looking at him now, wearing that same smug smile he always wore, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, it occurred to Clem she didn't know the first thing about this man. "Who are you?"

"Me? I was just trying to be a good friend and—"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Who was just checking in on you when you smacked me with a bedpan and then pulled a gun on me."

"It's your gun! You were going to kill me!"

"Clem, ask yourself, why would I ever want to kill you?"

"You always want to kill people! Or leave them behind! You tried to shoot me when I first met you! I always thought you were an asshole but… you're evil," realized Clem, hardly believing what she was saying. "You're not just selfish, you're fucking evil. You were going to scratch me with that bone just now, and then I'd get sick and die and…" Clem felt her stomach drop. "You killed Pedro!"

"Pedro? I—"

"I remember he said you scratched him with your knife when we let him go. It was that one you tried to use on me just now, wasn't it? It… it was never Patty and you knew it! This—all of this, it's your fault! We lost everything because of you! We lost everyone because of you! You ruined everything! And you… you tried to make us think Patty did it when you knew you killed Pedro this whole time!"

"I made you think Patty killed Pedro?" asked Anthony with a chuckle. "I seem to recall all I said was she gave the kid that bottle of wine, which was true, and then you said she put anti-freeze in it. I never would have thought that in a million years. So if anyone convinced us Patty killed Pedro, it was you." Clem felt her blood boiling as Anthony grinned at her. "And then you go and blame me for a gun you apparently stashed in your bedroom."

"It's your gun, you must have dropped it on the bed after I hit you with the bedpan, when you tried to kill me!"

"If I were trying to kill you, why wouldn't I just shoot you?" asked Anthony. "According to you, I had a gun with me."

"Because… because…"

"Seriously, Clem, you're confused, you must be sick or—"

"I wouldn't come back as a walker if you shot me in the head," realized Clem. "Sarah would notice my skin wasn't messed up and I wouldn't smell like them, and then she'd know you were lying about how I died. So you were going to kill me with the pillow first and then shoot me when I became a walker and tell Sarah…" Clem felt a chill run up her spine. "You killed Sin too… didn't you?"

"Sin? He was an old man and in bad shape before he got shot, he—"

"He would have lived!" yelled Clem through her tears. "You killed him didn't you? Just like how you tried to kill me just now you fucking son of a bitch!"

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?" asked Anthony. "My mom was a bitch."

"Or was that just another lie you bastard?"

"Daddy was never home, so that's actually true too."

"I don't know if anything you say is true! Everything you've ever told us could be a lie! I… I bet you killed Devlin too! You… you…" Staring at Anthony, Clem noticed a subtle shift in his eyes, like he was paying closer attention to what she was saying now then he was second ago. "What really happened to Devlin? Did those people who attacked us really shoot him? Did you even get to the farm? Did you go there at all? Or did you just shoot him in the back or… or…" Clem suddenly realized Anthony hadn't blinked once since she said Devlin's name. "Devlin's… Devlin's not dead, is he?"

Anthony blinked, and like a predator stalking her prey, Clem sensed an opening. "Of course Devlin's alive," she gleefully announced with a devilish smile. "You couldn't kill Devlin even if you tried." Anthony scowled at the girl and it just filled her with a wicked resolve as she tightened her grip on the gun. "Devlin was always smarter than you, and stronger than you, and faster than you, and—"

"And he's fucking dead now," stated Anthony through his teeth without a hint of sympathy.

"Says you, a fucking liar," dismissed Clem.

"I saw them shoot him right in front of me."

"Who?"

"Who what?"

"Who shot Devlin?"

"The fuckers who sacked our farm, who else?"

"Which ones?"

"What?"

"Which ones actually shot Devlin?"

"It was… that bitch who head-butted me and the bearded crybaby who wouldn't shut up about Pedro."

"Oscar?"

"Yeah, whatever his name was."

"Sin shot him right in front of me, and he didn't get back up like Fan did," informed Clem. "Not that you would know that, seeing as you just drove off and left us there."

"Then it was some other bearded guy in plaid, I didn't stop to ask for his fucking name."

"I bet you never even made it back to the farm. You probably tried to kill Devlin the first chance you could get, and then went it didn't work, you had to run away and make up a story why we couldn't go looking for him, or go near where he was."

"What about me getting shot in the arm? Did I make that up?" asked an annoyed Anthony as gestured to the minor scar near his shoulder. "Or all the bullet holes in my fucking truck? Are those imaginary?"

"Bullet holes?"

"Yeah, you see those yet? The whole side of my truck is—"

"Covered in bullet holes, all the same size, and in a line," listed Clem. "It was like someone was shooting a machine gun at it, which was the gun Devlin left with."

"Except it wasn't him, those fuckers—"

"If any of them had machine guns they would have used them on us when they attacked," reasoned Clem.

"Then I guess they picked up the one Devlin dropped after they blew his fucking head off." Clem scowled at Anthony. "You can keep inventing fairytales if it makes you feel better, but Devlin ain't coming back."

"Coming back?"

"Yeah, he—"

"That's the real reason you don't want us to stay in the same place too long; Devlin might catch up with us."

"Oh this is bullshit. You always do this; you and Patty both did. Anything I ever said you'd spin to make me into some kind of twisted psycho."

"You are a twisted psycho! She was right about you! We should have just left you behind at that gas station we found you at!"

"If you had, you two never would have made it out of New Orleans alive," asserted Anthony. "If I really was the bad guy you say I am, why would I have saved your lives?"

"Probably for the same reason you tried to kill Devlin; you didn't want anyone bigger or stronger than you around, and those two men were listening to us…" Clem paused to think back to that day. "You were listening to them too weren't you? You were probably hoping they would shoot us, and only once it sounded like they wouldn't is when you shot one of them, because you didn't want them coming with us."

"You've completely lost it."

"Oh I have?" asked Clem in a mocking tone. "So when we get to Interstate Eighty, you'd be okay with just staying there for a week, right?" Anthony didn't answer. "That big, huge road we all agreed to meet at, the one any of us could get to with enough time? You're not afraid that if wait there long enough, that someone is going to come and tell us all about how you tried to kill him, are you?" He was trying to hide it, but Clem could tell she was making Anthony angry. "Devlin would kick your ass if he was here right now."

"I should have shot you and him back on the river when I had the chance," growled Anthony.

"The river… you pushed me off that bridge, didn't you?" Anthony didn't respond. "Get out."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll kill you." Clem cocked the gun.

"I doubt that."

Clementine pulled the trigger and a bullet whizzed past Anthony's head and struck the windshield.

"The next one will be your head," warned Clem in a cold voice.

"I doubt that," repeated Anthony.

"You think I won't kill you?" challenged Clem as she cocked the gun again. "I've killed people nowhere near as bad you. I'd be doing the world a favor by shooting you right now."

"Yeah, maybe, but would you be doing Sarah a favor?" Clem's blood ran cold after hearing that. "How are you gonna explain me dead in a pool of my own blood to her? Like I said, you look and sound crazy right now. You really think Sarah is gonna come in here, see all that, and believe you when you say I just tried to kill you for no reason one day?"

"You did!" yelled Clem. "And she'll believe me because she trusts me!"

"I don't know Clementine, you sounded a little unsure yourself a minute ago, and you supposedly saw me do it," mocked Anthony. "And sweet ol'Sarah always sees the best in people doesn't she? I doubt she's gonna see what you claim you're seeing in me."

"I've known her longer than anyone left in the world, and a lot longer than you," reminded Clem through clenched teeth. "She'd never believe you over me."

"Oh I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure there's at least a few things Sarah has said to me that she's never said to you. In fact, she told me you got really mad about that once you found out." Clem found herself tightening her grip on the trigger. "I guess we'll find out in a second, seeing as she will have heard that shot and—"

The door swung open and Sarah raced up the steps.

"What's going—"

"Sarah, watch out, Clem—"

"Stay away from him Sarah!"

Sarah reactively backed away from Anthony but then stopped and looked at Clem.

"What's going on?" she asked, terror gripping her voice.

"I heard her and yelling and went to check on—"

"He tried to kill me!"

"She's snapped. She just shot at me!"

"He's lying!"

"You can see the bullet in the damn windshield!"

"A warning shot because he wouldn't leave!"

"Maybe something went wrong with the blood transfusion—"

"Don't listen to him!"

"Maybe she's sick or—"

"He put a pillow over my face and tried to suffocate me!"

"She must have been having a nightmare or—"

"Stop it, both of you!" ordered Sarah, practically shaking.

"Sah-rah." Clementine looked over to see Omid pushing the bedroom door open just enough to squeeze out. "Sah-rah!" he repeated, nearly in tears as he started walking towards the front where Sarah, and Anthony, were standing.

"No, Omid!" Clem grabbed hold of the back of Omid's shirt while keeping her other hand firmly on the gun. "Omid, stay here."

"No!" protested Omid as he tried to pull free.

"You see, she's not well," argued Anthony, his voice disturbingly sincere sounding. "She's scaring him half to death right now."

"Sah-rah!" squealed Omid as he twisted and turned in place as he tried to break free of Clem's grip.

"Clementine, please," begged Sarah. "Just put the gun down—"

"No! He'll kill me Sarah!"

"I don't know what she's talking about," spoke a baffled Anthony as he shook his head. "She just woke up and—"

"Tell him to leave," ordered Clem. "Tell him to go outside."

"Anthony, why don't you—"

"Sarah, she's gonna tell you to leave me behind if I step outside," warned Anthony in his most pitiful voice.

"He'll kill us if he doesn't leave," retorted Clem.

"I've already lost all the others, I can't lose you and Omid too," begged a terrified Anthony. "I… I can't go back to being alone."

"You won't."

"Sah-rah!" cried Omid as he pulled back against Clem with all his might, nearly yanking his shirt out of her hand.

"But you've gotta let me talk to her, so please, for me, just go outside for a minute."

Clem felt her entire body trembling as a chilling silence blanketed the room. The only sound was Omid's occasional grunts as he tried to pull free from Clem's hand and run to Sarah, who was still standing right next to Anthony. The gun was getting heavier with every passing second and Clem was frightened she wouldn't be able to hold it in the air much longer.

Suddenly, Anthony shot Clem a cursory glance before turning back to Sarah, who just looked up at him expectedly. Without a word, he slowly moved past Sarah and down the steps. Clem released Omid and began to lower her gun, when she saw Anthony's arm shoot back inside and grab Sarah's wrist.

"No!" Anthony's head poked back past the threshold for a second and Clem raised the gun and fired.

"Noooooo!" Sarah screamed in horror as Anthony staggered in place for a second, blood pouring out of the side of his head before falling backwards and out of the RV. "No, no, no, no!" Sarah raced outside while a squealing Omid retreated to the bedroom as fast as he could. Clem felt like throwing up and it was hard for her to remain standing, but she forced herself to move towards the door anyways. Lying on the grass outside was Sarah sobbing over Anthony's corpse, a permanent expression of confusion frozen on his now lifeless face.

"Sarah," said Clem. "I'm—"

"WHY!" Sarah shrieked so loud it frightened Clem. "Why is this happening to me! What… what did I do to deserve this!"

"I… I'm sorry Sarah," repeated Clem through her own tears.

"This… this can't be happening… I… I… can't take it anymore!"

Clem watched in utter despair as Sarah collapsed onto the grass and started crying into the dirt. Clem knelt down to place a hand on her shoulder but Sarah immediately swatted it away. With no idea how to comfort Sarah, Clem elected to stand there and listen to the horrible sound of Sarah crying her heart out, which just made Clem want to cry herself.

Eventually, after crying for so long she couldn't breathe anymore, Sarah became disturbingly quiet. Clem watched anxiously as Sarah just lay still in the grass, almost like she had died herself next to Anthony. It was a great relief when she stood up again, but the sight of her covered in dirt and tears streaming down her vacant face was utterly unnerving. Sarah moved over to Anthony's body and grabbed him from under his arms.

"What—"

"I'm burying him," mumbled Sarah in a barely audible whisper. "Just wait in the Brave."

"I—"

"Just wait in the Brave!" Sarah's order stunned Clem. She just stood there and watched as Sarah dragged Anthony away. It was only now she noticed they were parked on the side of a dirt road. It was warm and sunny out, the grass smelled fresh, and there was a slight breeze in the air. Yet all Clem could focus on was Anthony, his lifeless eyes looking right at her, as if they were judging her. Unnerved by a dead man's stare, Clem retreated back into the Brave.

Before she could gather her thoughts, she noticed the homemade knife lying on the floor near the Brave's gas pedals. Examining it again, Clem found it disturbing to behold, a jagged and crude looking weapon that appeared to her as evil as its owner. Terrified of what would happen if anyone ever touched it, Clem hastily retrieved a pair of gloves. She carefully put the cover back on the blade, then wrapped a thick garbage bag around the entire thing, then wrapped that in tape.

Stepping outside to dispose of it, Clem looked over to see Sarah in front of a couple of trees in this otherwise empty field. The trees had a clothesline running on it with a few shirts hanging off them, but it was Sarah slowly dig a grave one shovel full of dirt at a time that Clem couldn't turn away from. She moved like a puppet whose master could barely lift the strings anymore, one clumsy and forced motion after another. Clem wanted to go over there and help, but she knew it would probably just upset Sarah worse.

Looking down at the bagged weapon she was carrying, Clem forced herself to keep moving forward. Nearing Anthony's truck, she stopped briefly to examine it. The bullet holes were much the same as she remembered; all uniform in size and formed in a line. Following the trail of shots from the driver's side window across the length of the vehicle, it was clear someone was shooting at Anthony as he was driving off, she just couldn't be sure who.

Moving past the truck, Clem wandered a good distance out into the field they were parked next to, her side aching and her muscles beginning to feel limp as her adrenaline faded. In every direction, she saw only empty flat land rolling all the way into the distant horizon. Even the sky today was spotless, with not a single cloud in sight. Confident she was as close to nowhere as she could be, Clem knelt down to bury the blade in the soft dirt. Digging even a shallow hole with her hand proved tiring for a weakened Clem, but she endured.

As she prepared to toss the blade away, Clem considered holding on to it long enough to show Sarah. Regardless if it worked as Anthony intended or not, it was proof of his twisted mindset, fashioning a knife from a walker's bone. But seeing how badly Anthony's death was affecting Sarah, Clem realized it would just cause her more pain to mention it. Instead, Clem tossed the blade in the hole, burying it hopes that she was also burying the last thing Anthony could ever use to hurt them.

Returning to the Brave, Clem could see Sarah dragging Anthony's corpse into the hole now. She discovered too late the hole wasn't big enough for Anthony. Sarah looked at his legs awkwardly sticking out of the grave for a second, then pulled him back out of the hole. It was heart-breaking seeing Sarah labor so hard to give Anthony a burial he didn't deserve. Again, Clem wanted to go to Sarah, tell her to stop, to come inside, but couldn't envision any response that wasn't Sarah angrily telling her to go away, and so elected to let her work in the peace.

Heading back into the Brave, a weary Clem made tending to Omid her next priority. She found him in on the bed, curled up under the covers after having likely cried himself quiet. Just trying to touch him caused him to cry out, and Clem found herself having to slowly comfort Omid until he'd finally let her hold him again.

After much coaxing, Clem managed to get Omid to settle enough to change him, then moved onto to feeding him, thinking he needed something other than ice-cream. Giving Omid a spoonful of mixed fruit, Clem couldn't help notice how quiet he was. He wasn't crying now, or making noises when he tasted the fruit like he normally would, he just sat there and ate in silence.

Clementine found herself thinking back to that terrible night at the St. Johns Dairy. She found she had no pity anymore for the man Lee stabbed with a pitchfork; he was a horrible person and he deserved to die. But she still remembered how terrified she was in that moment, to see Lee be capable of killing like that. Looking down at Omid just now, she noticed he turned his head away, like he was trying to avoid looking at Clem. Was he afraid of her now? Was Sarah?

After feeding Omid and getting him to take a nap, Clem retreated to the bathroom. She was very tired now, all the renewed energy she had felt this morning completely drained out of her from what had happened and the pain from her wound returning in full force. She could barely summon the will to give herself a rag bath, and had to be careful to avoid getting the bandages on her side wet. As Clem cleaned herself up, she could hear footsteps coming and going out of the RV.

After getting dressed, she discovered stacks of cans, water, and even a few boxes of bullets just lying on the floor next to the fold-out bed. Sarah entered suddenly carrying a tackle box and a couple of fishing rods and set them on the ground. Watching her, Clem saw Sarah was emptying out Anthony's truck of supplies a couple armfuls at a time. Again, Clem felt compelled to help, but her side ached just from moving around. If she tried to lift anything heavy she would just make it worse, and in all likeliness, Sarah didn't want Clem's help right now.

Instead, Clem just sat in silence and watched Sarah work. Her face was disturbingly vacant except for occasional glimpses of sadness; she almost looked like a walker herself now. Eventually, Sarah diverted from Anthony's truck and walked over to the trees where the clothesline was. She took it down, tossing the couple of shirts hanging from it into a basket, then turned to the tree Anthony was buried under.

Clem watched as Sarah removed a knife from her pocket and started carving something into the bark. After a few seconds, it became clear that Sarah was cutting an 'A' into the tree. Realizing that Sarah was making a grave marker for Anthony, Clem stood up and headed for the bedroom. She stopped to check on Omid, but he was still sleeping, his normally blissfully innocent face scrunched up, as if he was having a bad dream.

Climbing back into bed, Clem discovered despite how tired she was, she couldn't rest after what happened. It already felt like she was dreaming, but not a good dream or even a nightmare. No, this was one of those bad dreams where everything feels a little wrong, where all the things you do everyday suddenly aren't the same anymore, and you don't know what to do but wake up, which she couldn't. After what felt like hours, Clem heard the Brave's engine start. Stepping outside, she saw Sarah was in the driver's seat and the RV was already moving down the road.

Clem navigated around the stacks of supplies and basket of mostly wet clothes to sit in the passenger seat beside Sarah. Her face was blank, like her entire mind was empty now, and the way she moved her arms was eerily mechanical. Clementine wanted to know nothing more than what Sarah was thinking right now, but she couldn't even begin to guess. If anything, it appeared like Sarah wasn't thinking but just operating on instinct, devoid of thought.

"So…" spoke Clem in a quiet voice. "Where are going?"

"Interstate Eighty…" mumbled Sarah in a barely audible whisper. "We'll find somewhere out of sight to park, then we can put up the Ceres marks along the road. If Patty and Jet are still out there, they can find their way back to us."

The way Sarah spoke unnerved Clementine, she sounded a lot like she did after Carlos died, like she wasn't fully there anymore.

"Okay…" Clem bit her lip for a second, then spoke again. "How do you feel?" Sarah didn't answer Clem. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," answered Sarah in a quiet voice.

"Is… is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just rest Clem," mumbled Sarah.

"Oh… okay."

Clem waited a few seconds to see if Sarah said anything else, and when she didn't Clem slunk away and back to bed. Crawling under the covers, Clem felt the aching in her side grow even worse. She had likely agitated her wound with everything she had done this morning. But reaching for the painkillers on the dresser, Clem found herself thinking that despite how bad it hurt, her wound was now the least of her worries.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 82 - Mortal Coil

Clementine lay in bed, wracked in pain and nearly helpless, just as she had been for the last three days. The initial misery of her injury had only worsened with every passing day. She'd awaken feeling terrible, take a painkiller, then would be stuck waiting in agony for it to take effect. Sarah would bring her meals, which Clem could barely summon the will to eat, then Sarah would always ask if there was anything else she could do. Clem always wanted to ask her for something, but she couldn't think of anything Sarah could actually do that would make things any better.

Clem's stomach would always hurt afterwards and she couldn't help thinking every time she ate she was making things worse. Then Clem would need to take antibiotics Sarah had prescribed her, big pills that were hard for her to swallow. All the rest of the day was spent lying in bed and waiting anxiously for hours on end until it became dark and Sarah would give her a pill for sleeping, providing Clem with the only peace she'd get in a day. The quiet relief of a deep sleep was all she had to look forward to; if only it didn't have to end with a new morning each time.

Sarah would always offer to bring her things during the day, but Clem didn't want them. She didn't want to read any books, whatever few they had on hand. She didn't want to listen to any music. Even seeing Omid did little to raise her spirits. Clem couldn't hide the fact she was hurt from him and all he seemed to know to do was try to feed her and say he loved her, and when those didn't work he started to get upset.

The worst part was anytime the RV was moving. Clem would be alone as Sarah drove and she couldn't see anything from bed, leaving her to only imagine what was beyond the thin walls of their home. The thought of venturing into the unknown again was terrifying enough without Clem being helpless to do anything about it. It plagued her already overwrought mind and anytime Clem heard the brakes squeak she was horrified of what could happen next.

Then there were the times Sarah would have to go outside. Occasionally Sarah would tell Clem that she and Anthony would have to check on something. Sarah would always assure Clem it wasn't anything important and Clem would put on a brave face for her. She'd then listen anxiously as Sarah left with Omid to join Anthony in his camper, then wait in bed in utter silence as she was unable to stop her mind from imaging all the terrible fates the people she loved could encounter.

The waiting was the worse part of Clem's days. Worse than the pain, or even the uncertainty, it was enduring the tortuously slow isolation until what little good she had left in the world returned to her, fully aware it might never return. For nearly a week now, it feels like Clem has just lied in a bed while everyone she cared about was taken from her; Sin, Devlin, Patty, Jet, all gone. And every time Sarah left with Omid and Anthony, Clem had to wonder if that was the last time she'd see them too. It was the wait she dreaded most.

Today had been the longest day yet. Sarah told Clem she and Anthony had to go out for a while to get things they needed, and they'd be gone for longer than usual. And that was the last Clem had heard of her or anyone for what must have been hours now. She couldn't be sure, she didn't have the strength to bother locating her watch, but as she had lied in bed she had watched the light from the window gradually move across the length of the room. It was at least in the afternoon at this point, which was far longer than it took for them to return previously.

The aching in her side had slowly grown worse as the painkiller she had taken this morning wore off. Clem forced herself to sit up and take the bottle of pills from the dresser. She took one and popped it in her mouth, wincing as she had to bend forward to pick up the bottle of water. Looking at the pill bottle sitting on the dresser, Clem found herself considering taking a second one; then she thought about taking all of them.

With every passing hour she had grown more convinced Sarah would never return. They hadn't needed food, not yet anyways, so whatever she went to collect couldn't possibly be taking this long, so something must have happened to her. Sitting alone in this old RV, Clem just wanted the pain to finally stop for good, and enough painkillers could do that. She moved the bottle to her lips, then it dawned on her; she'd come back as a walker. If Sarah did return, or anyone else found the Brave, that could mean their death.

Tears welling up in her eyes, Clem put the cap back on the bottle and tossed it onto the dresser. She curled up in bed, desperately trying to find a position that didn't hurt too bad, but it was useless. In addition to the pain, it wasn't long before she needed to use the bathroom. Climbing out of bed was an ordeal even after using a painkiller, and the simple process of using the toilet was agonizing without Sarah's help. Shuffling out of the bathroom, clutching her throbbing side, Clem found her eyes moving towards the cabinet running along the top of the Brave.

She dragged a stool in place, then clenched her teeth as she forced herself to climb on top of it. She was practically crying in pain as she stood up on the stool. Clem hastily pulled open the cabinet and looked inside. Lying in the back was her old pistol, and taking it hand Clem instinctively found herself checking to see if the gun was loaded. Seeing it wasn't, Clem started eyeing the magazine lying inside when she heard the door crack open.

Clem stared down at a shocked Sarah, a whimpering Omid cradled in her arms as she looked up from the door. The expression of utter horror and disbelief in her wide eyes paralyzed Clem where she stood. The gun suddenly felt like it weighed a ton and Clem remained speechless as Sarah just stared at her in silence. Finally, tears started rolling down Clem's cheeks as she felt her entire body begin to tremble.

"I'm sorry…" she croaked through her tears.

Sarah immediately set Omid on the carpet and raced over to Clem. She took the gun away, which Clem offered with no resistance. Sarah carefully but quickly grabbed hold of Clem and plucked her off the stool. Sarah then adjusted her grip on Clem and hurriedly carried her back into the bedroom.

"Why?" blurted out Sarah suddenly as she set Clem on the bed. "Why would you do that?"

"I'm sorry," repeated Clem in a weak voice. "It hurts so bad and—"

"What's going on?" asked a confused Anthony as he emerged in the bedroom.

"Nothing, Clem just needs help," insisted Sarah in a harsh tone. "Take Omid back to your camper and keep an eye on him for a while."

"Why? Did—"

"Just do it!" Clem was shocked to hear Sarah bark at him like that.

"For how long?"

"Until I come and get him, that's how long." There was a commanding nature in the way Sarah spoke that Clem didn't recognize.

"Well, all right then," said Anthony, sounding confused. He reached out to place his hand on Sarah's shoulder. "If you need anything—"

"Watch Omid," commanded Sarah as she jerked away from Anthony's touch. "That's what I need from you."

"Okay…" Anthony stood there for a second, then walked out of the bedroom. Clem and Sarah listened briefly as they heard footsteps, then the door to the RV click close.

"Why?" Sarah immediately asked again, less upset and more concerned now. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

"No it… it just hurts, all the time, and it just gets worse every day, and you were gone for so long and—"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think we'd be gone so long. I should have left you the radio so I could check in on you. We've only got the two now and Anthony and I needed them. This is all his fault, if he just had…" Sarah bit her lip as she balled up her fists. "And then when I got back Omid was crying and I couldn't get him to stop even as we drove back and… I… I'm so sorry."

"Man plans and God laughs," mumbled Clem to herself.

"What?"

"It's what Devlin told me, right before he died," lamented Clem. "And I remembered something the other day, that wasn't the first time someone told me that. Deacon, the boy who whipped me, he said his dad told him the exact same thing; man plans and God laughs, right before we went back to Titusville, and everything went wrong."

"So… so what?" dismissed Sarah.

"So, what's the point of anything? It's always the same."

"What is?"

"What happened. Before I met you, or Christa and Omid, I was staying with Lee with a bunch of people at a hotel. We lived there for months, and then one day, these men with guns came, and there was shooting, and we had to leave, and we lost everything, and everyone."

"I'm sorry Clem, but—"

"And we had an RV too. It was exactly the same except…" Clem bit her lip, trying not to cry. "Except I didn't like living at that motel… I liked living on our farm. It felt like a home, and we worked so hard to grow our own food…" Tears started streaming down Clem's face. "And we barely got to taste it. It's all gone… again. And Sin's gone, and Devlin, and Patty, and Jet, and today, I thought you and Omid were gone…" Clem tried to turn onto her side, but the pain was too great, so she simply laid on her back, crying as hard as she could.

"I know Clem, I know. Maybe… maybe we could…" Sarah's mind went blank as she tried to think of something to say.

"That's just what happens now. It's what always happens. People just come along and ruin everything, no matter what you do."

"No, Clem—"

"Just let me die."

"No!"

"It's gonna happen anyways," mumbled Clem through her tears.

"You're not gonna die!"

"It'll be easier for you and Anthony to take care of Omid without—"

"Shut up!" Clem was shocked as felt Sarah grab the sides of her head. She forced Clem to look her in the eyes, which were overflowing with anger, misery and confusion all at once. "I'm not letting you die! Okay?"

"I… I want to," confessed Clem.

"No, no you don't! You're hurt, and things are terrible, and… you want it to end…" spoke Sarah, choked by sadness. "I… I know what that's like. I almost did the same thing once… it wasn't almost, I did it." Clem watched as Sarah suddenly buried her face in her hands. "You were begging me to stop and I just pulled the trigger… I'd be dead if the safety hadn't been on... and I would have made you watch it."

"I'm sorry Sarah," cried Clem as Sarah moved closer. "I—"

"It's okay," sobbed Sarah as she moved in close to hold Clem. "I know how hard it is, but we can't give up, not yet. Things will get better."

"What if they don't get better? Or what if—"

"I don't know Clem, okay, I don't know. Right now, I'm just trying to get you better, and I think I know how." Sarah took off her backpack and started unloading it, setting out some needles, bandages and a few things Clem didn't recognize.

"What is that? What are you doing?"

"We found a hospital, and I went back through all my old medical books." Sarah set an empty bag with a tube coming out of it on the floor. "I wanted to do this back in Tulsa, but whoever cleaned out the Sam's Club cleaned out the hospital there too. But we found another one today that still had stuff I can use to give you a blood transfusion."

"Transfusion?" repeated Clem as Sarah tore off pieces of white tape that she stuck to the dresser.

"It's when you give someone blood." Clem watched as Sarah sat down on the bed and rolled up her sleeve.

"You're going to give me your blood?" Sarah tied a piece of elastic tubing around her arm using her free hand and teeth. "Will that make me better?"

"I think it'll help." Sarah dabbed a piece of cotton with alcohol. "I read if you lose a lot blood really fast, it messes up your body and makes it harder to create new blood to replace it, and that can lead to people feeling sick and weak." Sarah swabbed her exposed arm with the cotton. "But if you get a blood transfusion, it can help you get better faster." Sarah picked up a large needle attached to a tube.

"But, do you know how to give blood?"

"I read instructions on how to do it three times to make sure I understood everything." Clem watched as Sarah aimed a large needle at a vein on her arm and become very still after breathing out.

"Wait, Sarah, you shouldn't. What if—" Sarah winced slightly as she stuck the needle into her arm. Clem grew more fearful as she saw blood flowing into the tube. Sarah took the tape from the dresser and used one piece to stick the tube to her arm, then took the other to tape a piece of cotton on top of where the needle went in. Clem was terrified something was going to wrong as Sarah slowly fiddled with the various fasteners on the tube with her free hand, struggling to reach them at times.

"It's okay Clem," assured Sarah as she tugged on the elastic tied around her arm, releasing the knot. "Like I said, I made sure we got exactly everything the book said we needed." Sarah sounded sure of herself, but Clem couldn't help finding the sight of a tube with Sarah's blood running out of it disturbing.

"You really think this will help?"

"There hasn't been any blood when you go to the bathroom, which means you're probably not bleeding internally. And you've been taking antibiotics and the wound doesn't look infected. And if one of your major organs was hit… you'd probably already be dead." Sarah took a deep breath. "So the reason you're probably not getting better is because you lost a lot of blood and it's hard for your body to catch up; this should fix that."

Clem was stunned by just how thoroughly Sarah seemed to have assessed her predicament. Even now she was carefully watching the blood bag, as if to be ready to collect it at a moment's notice.

"It'll take a while, but once it's full, I'll hang up the bag to circulate the blood into you. And I also read that you lose a lot of iron when you lose a lot of blood, so I got some iron supplements from a pharmacy, along with some other stuff. So, between the blood, and taking iron supplements, and a lot of rest, you should start feeling better."

"I can't believe you're doing all this," spoke a stunned Clem.

"Of course I am."

"I mean, all this stuff about why I'm not getting better, and you learning how to do this, and…" Clem paused. "You're just so smart."

"I… I just hope it works. I'm doing everything the instructions say but… I really don't know what I'm doing."

"I already feel a little better just from having you here, doing this for me."

"Really?" asked a dubious Sarah.

"Yes really," professed Clem. "I… I always feel better when you're around. And whatever happens next, I want you to know how much that means to me." Clem bit her lip and looked away. "I'm so sorry I said I wanted to die Sarah. I'm—"

"It's okay Clem."

"No, I—"

"It's okay," repeated Sarah with utter sincerity. "It's all right. You've been through so much, and it's been so horrible."

"I just feel bad I said that when you were working so hard to make me better."

"I did the same thing once when you were doing everything to keep me alive," reminded Sarah in a shameful whisper. "And I should have just told you what we were doing this morning before we left, but I was worried if we didn't find everything we needed it would just be more bad news and you'd feel even worse. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay Sarah," assured Clem with a smile. "I'm just glad you're here now."

Clem reached out with her hand and Sarah took it with her free one, giving her a reassuring squeeze as she watched the blood bag on the floor.

"It's funny," said Sarah. "I always wanted to give blood."

"You did?"

"Yeah. My dad used to help with a blood drive where we lived one week out of the summer. When I was ten, I got him to take me with him so I could see what he does. I remember it was kinda scary, seeing so much blood, even if it was in tubes and bags. Now I see it all over the place...

"But, I still wanted to know what was happening, and my dad explained people give blood so they can give it to people who are hurt, so they'll live long enough to get better. One of the things we talked about was blood types, and how important it was to get the right kind, because you can kill someone if you don't."

"Wait, is your—"

"He told me my blood type was O negative, and that it was the most valuable one because people with O negative can give their blood to anyone else, and that was the only blood type that can do that. So I asked my dad, shouldn't I give blood too, since mine could help anyone?"

"What did he say?"

"He said I couldn't because you had to be sixteen to donate blood. And when I asked him why, he said it's because it's dangerous to take blood from children because they're smaller, and they have less of it." Sarah looked at Clem. "After that, I told him I wanted to give blood as soon as I'm old enough, because I wanted to help people. Now I'm finally doing it I guess." Clem smiled at Sarah, but Sarah looked away in response.

"If… if I hadn't gone with him that one time, I probably never even would have thought of this, or know that my blood is safe to give to you." Sarah sighed. "These last few days, I keep thinking about my dad, and how smart he was, and how I should have been learning stuff like this from him, instead of all the stupid stuff I used to do."

"Sarah, none of us knew this was going to happen, and you were just a girl. You shouldn't feel bad because you weren't learning to be a doctor when you were ten. That's crazy."

"I could have started learning about it after it happened. All those months I lived at Shaffer's, reading stories about faraway places and heroes and magic…" Sarah shook her head. "I should have been reading the kind of books I used today; learning things that can help keep us alive."

"You were just a kid. Kids shouldn't have to do things like this, but—"

"But we do have to," concluded a dismayed Sarah. "Because there's nowhere we can go to get help."

The pair sat in silence after that as Sarah waited for the bag to be filled. Eventually, she carefully removed the needle and wrapped a bandage around her arm. After that, she changed out the needle attached to the tubing and hung the now nearly full blood bag from one of the cabinet handles running over the bed.

"Okay, this will hurt for a second, then it'll be over," said Sarah as she tied the elastic around Clem's arm. "Make a fist, and then just hold it for a second."

Clem watched as Sarah removed the cap from the new needle. Clem made a fist and turned away. She felt the cotton and alcohol dabbing her arm, then a little while after that there was a painful sting.

"Okay, you can stop making a fist." Clem looked over as Sarah undid the tie around her arm. The needle had been taped in place and Clem could see the tube was full of blood. "Be very careful not to move your arm, you don't want to pull the needle out."

"I will," assured a nervous Clem.

"How do you feel? Anything bothering you right now? You don't need to use the bathroom do you?"

"No, but it's not like I could if I did right now," said Clem as she looked at up at the blood bag.

"When I was at the hospital I found this too." Clem watched as Sarah set out an odd metal bowl. Looking at it, she noticed the top of it was shaped like a toilet lid.

"What is that?" asked Clem, unsure she wanted to know.

"A bedpan." Clem just stared at Sarah in confusion. "A special toilet for sick people to use if they can't leave the bed."

"I'm supposed to go to the bathroom in that?" asked a perplexed Clem as she stared at the tiny metal tub.

"I'll help you with it. It's better than carrying you back and forth and hurting your side over and over again."

"Yeah… I guess so."

"I know, it sucks. But it's only until you get better." Looking over at Sarah, Clem only now noticed how haggard she looked. Her hair was a frayed mess, she was sweaty, and she looked dead tired. There's was also something else, a kind of quiet regret behind her eyes that Clem found troubling.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm just worried about you… about everything," said Sarah as she stood up. "We've been moving around so much I don't even know where we are right now. Just somewhere in Kansas I think. Anthony's afraid if we stop for too long the people who attacked the farm might find us… so am I.

"And we haven't found any food yet. We still got plenty for now but…" Sarah took a deep breath. "I'm gonna go get Omid and give us both a bath, and then I'll come back and bring you dinner. Do you think you'll be okay for a little while?"

"Yeah, because of you." Clem smiled and that seemed to make Sarah feel better. Clem rested a little easier than before as she eagerly awaited Sarah's return. She listened as she heard the shower running and eventually Sarah came in, clean and a little weary looking as she brought Clem dinner. It was just canned fruit with a bit of freeze-dried ice-cream for dessert, but Clem cherished it and her time with Sarah.

"Okay. I want you to take a couple of these." Sarah opened a pair of large pill bottles, removing a capsule from each.

"Are those more painkillers or antibiotics?"

"No, this is the iron supplement I mentioned and a multivitamin." Sarah helped Clem place the capsules in her mouth, then lifted a cup to her lips, allowing the girl a sip of water to swallow the pills.

"When we went to get iron supplements for you, I noticed all these other vitamins and things that nobody took, and I realized, they all had stuff we need in them, and we should be taking them. I even found pediatric vitamins for Omid. We can probably stretch out our food longer if we use these…" Sarah sighed. "We should have been using these the whole time. We'd probably had been better off if I had thought of it sooner."

"Well, you thought of it now, and we will be better off from now on, because of you," complimented Clem.

"If you were with someone smarter than me, they would have thought of it."

"No they wouldn't," stated Clem. "I mean, I was with lots of smart people, and we never took vitamins."

"Probably because they were busy getting food, because we can't live off vitamins alone."

"But they'll help, won't they?"

"They should."

"And that's because you thought of that, because you're smart."

"I don't know…"

"Think about it, did anyone at Shaffer's ever think to use vitamins?"

"We always had plenty to eat at Shaffer's." Clem sighed. "I… I still think about that place sometimes."

"You do?"

"Sometimes I…" Sarah turned away suddenly.

"Go ahead."

"No, I shouldn't say it. You… you wouldn't like it."

"Just tell me Sarah."

"Sometimes I… I wish I was back at Shaffer's," confessed Sarah in a shameful whisper.

"You do?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"Yeah…" Sarah turned away. "I know how awful it was, but I also can't stop thinking about how it had that big wall, and the eggs from Gertrude's chickens, and all the great stuff Dr. Bostwick grew, and there were so many people there."

"A lot of them were bad people," reminded Clem in a bitter voice.

"I know, I know, but not all of them, and I used to live there, with Dad and Pete and Nick," reminded Sarah. "And sometimes I wonder what happened to who was left. Are they still there? Did things get better? Maybe it's okay now. Maybe they got a farm and plenty to eat, and the walls keep them safe—"

"Sarah," spoke Clem.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be thinking about that stuff," realized Sarah.

"It's okay. I still wish I was back at the crappy motel sometimes," admitted Clem. "Things just seemed… simpler back then, even if they still weren't good."

"I… I actually thought about going back with Adam," confessed Sarah. "When he told me about what happened to him, and how there were worse places than Shaffer's, I believed him…"

"You believed him because he was right," conceded Clem. "Like I said, I've seen worst places, but that didn't make Shaffer's a good place to live."

"I know that's why I... because he wouldn't let you go," said Sarah, trembling now. "And I thought, if he could do those horrible things, then whoever was left at Shaffer's would do worse because of what we did but still…" Sarah took a breath. "I can't stop thinking about what if things had been different."

"Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if that man didn't kidnap me," confessed Clem. "Before he took me, the people Lee and I were with had found a boat, and we were going to use it get away from Savannah. They had to come after me though, and someone took the boat, so we never got to use it. Patty said people were going to Cuba, maybe we could have got there if we hadn't lost the boat. Maybe it would have been safe."

"Probably not. I remember Patty also saying if Cuba was actually safe, they wouldn't have left Miami fall apart. It's probably wiped out," suggested a dismayed Sarah. "Just like Shaffer's, and our farm, and everything else out there… it's all gone."

"Sah-rah!" called Omid as he came in through the door. "Ah-wah Kem-men!" he demanded as he climbed up to the bed.

"Hey there Omid," said Clem with a smile as she tried to move closer.

"Hang on, let me take out the needle; the bag's almost empty anyway." Sarah pulled out the needle and bandaged Clem's arm as Omid came over to Clementine.

"Kem-men, ah-mah-duh-pre-bee." Omid laid out a partially crumbled piece of paper in front of Clementine. Picking it up, Clem could see a bunch of colorful splotches smeared across the page, like a rainbow of ink stains.

"Did you make this for me?" asked Clem in a sweet voice.

"Pree-bee," giggled Omid.

"Did he?" asked a surprised Sarah as she looked at the page. "It's not a big brown smear." Sarah looked at Omid's hands. "Did you actually wipe off your hands?"

"He's such a good boy," praised Clem.

"Hopefully he used the paper towels I left him and not the carpet." Sarah smiled at Omid, then looked lovingly at Clementine. "I guess if you had gotten on that boat, and I never left Shaffer's, we never would have met."

"Meeting you was one of the best things to ever happen to me," professed Clem.

"Really?"

"Yeah, like meeting Lee, or Christa and Omid, or taking care of this Omid," said Clem with a smile as she ran her fingers through the boy's thick dark curls. "You're one of the few really good things to happen to me after everything changed." Sarah moved her hand to Clem's and closed her fingers around it.

"I feel the same way," professed Sarah as she tenderly gripped Clem's hand.

"I love you Sarah."

"I love you Clementine." Sarah leaned and kissed Clementine's forehead, and Clem tilted her head and kissed Sarah's cheek, briefly brushing her lips across Sarah's. Looking at the girl she loved and seeing her warm smile, Clem felt some of the despair plaguing her mind finally drift away.

"Lub-yoo," proclaimed Omid as he hugged Clem, who kissed him in response.

"You should go to bed early, get a really good night's sleep tonight," said Sarah. "If you can think of anything you need that'll help, just tell me."

"Well I…" Clem turned away in embarrassment.

"What, you can tell me."

"It's not something you can do."

"Why not?"

"It's not safe."

"What isn't?"

Clem discovered she still had enough blood for it to flow to her cheeks when she felt embarrassed. "I… I was gonna say I sleep better when you're next to me."

"Aww, Clem," spoke Sarah, touched by Clem's admission.

"But it's not safe. If I die in my sleep, I'd turn into a walker and kill you." Sarah approached the bed and sat down next to Clem.

"You're not going to die in your sleep tonight."

"You don't know that for sure. Sin just died after he went to bed."

"Yeah, I know… but it's been a few days now, and I think you're okay. I mean, how do you feel right now?"

"Um, okay," realized Clem. "But, we can't be sure, and—"

"We can never be entirely sure, but I bet you'll probably feel better if you had a good night sleep instead of being tied to the dresser. I'll go tell Anthony I'm sleeping here tonight and—"

"Wait," said Clem.

"What?"

Clem realized she wasn't as anemic as she thought as her face got redder. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Sarah carried Omid out of the room and then returned to help Clem try out the new bedpan, much to Clem's embarrassment. Even after a few days she hadn't gotten over needing help to use the bathroom, and having to adjust to this new bedpan didn't help. Sarah however always made it a little less painful with her discretion, and by now Clem barely had to say anything during the process.

After she took the bedpan away, Sarah let Omid back in and Clem spent some time talking to him. He mostly seemed interested in babbling about the drawing he did, but eventually left the bedroom and came back carrying a worn picture book. It was a 'Where's Waldo' and Clem didn't recognize it as one they had before. She turned the pages and let Omid awe at the pictures for a while until she heard the door to the Brave open.

"I don't know why you're acting like this," she could hear Anthony say from the other room. "I'm just worried about you."

"Worry about Clem," Sarah ordered Anthony.

"You sleeping in here isn't gonna help her."

"What would you know about helping Clem?" retorted Sarah.

"I just mean if something happens, you and Omid could be in danger," insisted Anthony. "You'd be safer in my camper then—"

Clem heard the door slam and then Sarah rapidly approaching. "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked with a forced sense of cheerfulness.

"Fine," said Clem as Sarah picked up Omid.

"Did you bring Clem your new book?" asked Sarah as she noticed the Where's Waldo. "I'll have to find you something better next time."

"Is everything all right? I heard you arguing with Anthony." Clem noticed Sarah's face sour upon hearing that. "I mean—"

"He's just been really annoying lately," insisted Sarah. "Anytime he mentions you he talks like you're already dead."

"That sounds like him…" Clem mumbled to himself.

"He just thinks he knows everything, and always talks like he knows what's best for me, or what I want, or…"

"Forget it," said Clem as she noticed Sarah growing more upset.

"Give me a few minutes to put Omid to sleep and I'll be right to bed."

Clem watched as Sarah carried Omid away, then waited patiently for Sarah to return. Seeing Sarah undress, Clem felt obligated to look away while fighting the temptation to peek. Feeing Sarah crawl up beside her in bed made Clem's heart race. She hadn't realized how much she missed having Sarah next to her, and feeling Sarah hold her chased away all the gloom from the day.

She then felt Sarah's other hand gently caressing her hair while she planted a soft kiss on Clem's cheek. It was actually a strange sensation since Clem couldn't remember Sarah doing this before, but it was a welcome change that made Clem feel better. Lying there in Sarah's warm embrace, Clem found herself speaking without thinking.

"I love you so much," professed Clem as she squeezed Sarah's hand as hard as she could.

"I love you too and I'd… I'd do anything for you Clem," whispered Sarah in a pained voice.

"Me too," promised Clem as she drifted off to sleep in Sarah's arms.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 81 - Man Plans

The last twenty-four hours had been excruciating for Clementine. Her body had been racked with pain, even after the painkillers Sarah had given her, and all she could do is lie in bed and think. Think about everything they had lost. Think about Patty and Jet's fate. Think about Sin's death. Think about her own possible death every minute of every hour she lay helpless in bed.

The only other thing Clem could do was listen. Listen to Sarah's frantic footsteps, Omid's occasional cries for food or attention, and maybe the occasional muffled word or two from Devlin or Anthony. Clem kept hoping if she listened long enough she'd hear a vehicle approaching followed by familiar voices calling her name as footsteps raced forward to meet her.

She'd have gone over the image of Jet and Patty fleeing in her mind hundreds of times. Patty's entire right arm was covered in blood, but she was still moving and Jet wasn't hurt at all. There had been plenty of time for them to get out through a window and get to Sunseeker while Sin and then Clem were shooting at their attackers. They weren't even willing to shoot Jet when he dove on top of Patty, and he didn't have a gun like Clem did. She kept expecting them to pull up any minute now; they never came.

As the sunlight began to fade, Clem was forced to consider the possibility that their attackers were still looking for them. Things couldn't have gone more wrong and any hesitation they had for killing them was surely gone by now; the bullet that had pierced Clem's side had made that all too clear. With the sun setting, Clem was terrified these people would return, come in the middle of the night, and just shoot them in their sleep, just as Fan had threatened.

Sarah eventually came into the bedroom and reluctantly told Clem she would have to tie her wrist to the dresser, just in case she didn't survive the night. Just hearing those words made Clem nervous, and feeling her hand be bound, even somewhat loosely, made her sick. But she didn't say a work while Sarah did it because even now she was far more afraid of what would happen if she did die in the night and came back as a walker.

The fear ate at Clem as she laid there in the pitch darkness. She was dead-tired and desperately wanted to rest for a while, but couldn't. Every little ache and pain she felt as she awkwardly squirmed in place terrified her and made her wonder if she was dying. It was so bad Clem eventually started weeping into her pillow. She tried to swallow as much as of her sadness as she could, making only pained little cries in hopes of not waking up Sarah in the other room; she had.

Sarah checking in on her had been one of the few comforts for Clem across this incredibly long day. Sarah had brought Clem meals and even fed her, then always stopped to ask how Clem was feeling and if there was anything she needed. Even now, only half-awake, Sarah was nothing but concerned for Clem, and after hearing how she couldn't sleep, fetched one of the pills Patty had given her after the tornado. Clem doubted it would help, but took it anyway.

Sarah then untied Clem then promised to stay with her until she fell asleep. They talked for a time, Clem asking Sarah how Omid was doing as she had rarely gotten to see him today. She said he's mostly doing good, being blissfully unaware of the implications of what happened. However, he could tell Clementine was hurt, and the few times Clem had seen Omid today, she could tell he was worrying about her.

Sarah went on to talk about how she had time to make a grave marker for Sin. She had taken a few boards from an old fence and painstakingly carved out 'Here lies Sin' onto it while she was waiting for the others. She lamented she couldn't remember his full name from when he introduced himself, and felt those three words weren't nearly enough. She carved another board to read 'Grandfather', then another to say 'Father', then 'Friend', and finally nailed a board that read 'Hero' at the base of the tree he was buried under.

As Sarah spoke, Clem felt her already weak muscles become completely limp as her eyelids grew heavy. The drug was taking its course now and Clem felt her racing mind finally began to quiet. But a single terrifying thought reentered her head as she shut her eyes; this could be her last night alive. Clem felt panic crawling through her veins as she thought about calling out for Sarah, but ultimately succumbed to her fatigue as everything went dark.

Clem didn't dream, everything was just black, and in truth, she probably preferred that. It was more peaceful that way than having to think anymore, just drifting in the soothing darkness of a deep and dreamless sleep. Eventually, she opened her eyes and saw it was a new morning now, and then immediately closed them, not wanting to look at the light again so soon. Clem didn't know how long she lay there, but once she finally tried to move she realized her wrist had been shackled to the dresser.

Clem sighed as she moved to untie herself, her side aching horribly as she did so. Clem could reach the knot but her fingers couldn't pinch it tightly enough to undo it. It frustrated her to no end and the harder she tried to untie herself the more it hurt her side. A twist too hard caused a shooting pain to run up her side, causing Clem to yell out loud.

"Clem!" Sarah rushed into the room almost at the same time Clem had yelled. "Just hold still, I'll get you loose." Clem leaned back in defeat as Sarah hurriedly untied her.

"How did you know I was up?" asked Clem, thinking she didn't make that much noise.

"I heard you yell on the baby monitor."

"Baby monitor?" Clem looked over and spotted Omid's baby monitor sitting on the same dresser she was tied to, and was surprised she hadn't noticed it sooner.

"If you ever need anything just say so," said Sarah.

"That'll be all the time then," mumbled Clem in a weak voice. "I can't do anything anymore,"

"You're hurt. You just need to rest. Just stay there and I'll get you some breakfast."

"Wait."

"What?"

"I…" Clem felt her cheeks blush. "I need to pee really bad."

"Oh." Sarah seemed surprised by that, but only briefly. Without warning, Sarah scooped Clem into her arms. Clem grimaced as she felt her side ache again, then grabbed onto Sarah for stability. Being carried out the door, Clem saw Omid's old crib parked next to the unfolded couch; he and Sarah's new lodgings apparently. Clem couldn't help noticing Omid barely fit in his old crib anymore. Before Clem could get a better look, she was carried into the bathroom.

"All right, I'll be right outside the door," said Sarah as she gently sat Clem on the toilet. "If you need me for anything, just yell."

"Okay, thanks Sarah."

Sarah hurried outside and closed the door behind her, leaving Clem alone to do her business. She tried to pull her underwear down but the mere act of reaching caused her great pain in her side. Clem struggled again and again to undress herself, but couldn't manage to over the agonizing pain it caused. She was afraid she was about to pee herself while sitting on a toilet, then opened her mouth to speak.

"Sarah!" she called. "I… I need help."

Sarah burst into the bathroom and immediately placed herself beside Clem. "What's wrong?"

"I… It hurts when I…" Clem stopped short of saying anything and just kind of looked downward.

"Oh…" Sarah looked awkwardly at Clem for a moment. "All right, just hold still." Clem couldn't help feeling humiliated as Sarah undressed her. Looking at her friend's face, Clem did take some small comfort in Sarah averting her eyes. "Okay. I'll just wait outside and—"

"Can… can you stay?" begged Clem. "I… I just feel better, when you're close."

"Sure." Sarah sat down next to the toilet and looked away. Clem limply stretched out to take Sarah's hand, but couldn't reach her. She was about to pull her arm back when Sarah suddenly took her hand without looking, as if she had just sensed Clem's desire. Feeling Sarah's hand on her own, her fingers gently caressing her skin, finally helped Clem to relax ever so slightly, which helped her to do something else.

"This… this is so embarrassing," mumbled Clem.

"You just had to pee," insisted Sarah as she continued to stroke Clem's hand. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It's not that it's… I'm helpless now," cried Clem.

"You're hurt. You'll get better."

"I'm going to die."

"You're not going to die!"

"I am," sobbed Clem. "Just like Sin."

"No!" Clem was startled as Sarah darted in front of her. "I won't let that happen, okay?"

"You can't promise that."

"I'm gonna try!" Tears started rolling down Sarah's cheeks as Clem felt even worse than she already did. She stretched out her hand and started rubbing Sarah's back.

"I'm sorry. I—"

"It's okay," said Sarah as she wiped her eyes before holding Clem's hand again. "You're the one who's hurting."

"I just thought I'd feel better today, at least a little, but I feel even worse."

"You lost a lot of blood," reminded Sarah. "You probably need more time to get well."

"I hope so," said Clem as she turned to flush.

"Don't." Sarah grasped Clem's hand suddenly.

"Why?"

"I… I need to see if there's blood… in your pee."

"What?" asked a confused Clem. "Why?"

"If there is… it's bad."

Clem was too afraid to ask why it would be bad. Instead, she leaned to the side and let Sarah investigate, too frightened to look herself.

"Well?" asked a nervous Clem.

"It's fine." Clem felt relieved as Sarah flushed the toilet.

"So I'm okay?"

"For now."

Clem's relief was cut short upon hearing that. Sarah dressed her and picked her up again. Carrying her outside, Clem spotted Devlin and Anthony at the front of the Brave, arguing.

"You said it yourself, they could already be in Tulsa," insisted Anthony. "We should just head there ourselves."

"I also said they could still be at the farm," reminded Devlin. "We might be their only hope."

"Or they could be dead already." That was the last thing Clem heard as Sarah carried her back into the bedroom.

"Okay, I'll get you another painkiller and—"

"What are they talking about?" asked Clem as Sarah pulled a blanket over her. "Are they going back to the farm?"

"Devlin wants to at least scout the area nearby, see if he can find any signs of Jet or Patty… or the people who attacked us," said Sarah with a sigh. "He also said—"

"That we could use some of that stuff from the farm." Clem looked up to see Devlin standing in the door. He entered the room and looked over at Sarah. "How she's doing?"

"She's really weak," reported Sarah.

"And it really hurts," added Clem.

"Painkiller," said Sarah as she stood up suddenly. "I'll get it."

Sarah rushed out of the room while Devlin knelt down to look at Clem directly. Peering into the man's dark eyes, she could tell the sight of her in bed unsettled Devlin.

"I just wanted to check in on you, see how you were holding up," confessed Devlin, sounding uncharacteristically shaken. "With everything that's happened, I realized I didn't even stop to see if you were okay yesterday."

"I'm not," blurted out Clem. "It hurts, and I'm scared."

"I bet."

Sarah hurried back into the room. "Here you go." Sarah offered Clem a pill. She put it in her mouth and then Sarah held a bottle up to her lips so she could drink. "I'll just leave these on the dresser. If it really starts to hurt just take one, okay?"

"How many do we have left?"

"Um, probably at least a few dozen," said Sarah as she looked into the bottle. "Devlin, could you watch her a second? Omid just woke up and—"

"I got it."

Sarah set the water and pills on the dresser and then hurried out of the room while Devlin looked at Clem. At first she thought he was pitying her, but after studying his face she realized he may have actually been scared.

"Are you really going back to the farm?" asked Clem.

"Maybe," mumbled Devlin, sounding unsure. "Like I keep telling Anthony, we're gonna be careful and not rush into anything. Figure we'll start just by driving around the surrounding area, look for signs of the people who attacked us. Maybe spot the vehicles they came in or at least some tire tracks, figure out at least what direction they came from."

"You should take our guns," insisted Clem. "They'll—"

"Sarah already got them for us. I got the machine gun and Anthony's got her rifle, and we both got a pistol each." Clem suddenly noticed the pouch for spare magazines on Devlin's belt that Patty had taken from Titusville. "Those people took us by surprise before, but not this time."

"You're gonna try to fight them?"

"Not if we can avoid it, I don't want to risk leaving you and Sarah and Omid all alone, but we need to be ready for the worst this time, especially if we go back to the farm."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I figure we can walk in through the forest from the north, climb up one of the trees and scout things out from a distance. They'd never see us coming."

"You sure of that?" asked a nervous Clem.

"How often were you watching the woods?"

"Never… maybe we should have… maybe they are now."

"Even if they are those trees give Anthony and me a lot of cover. Hell, that's probably how they came in. Just walked in through the woods and right up to our front doors. Hopefully they'll be gone now and we can look for clues to what happened to Jet and Patty."

"And if those people are still there?" asked Clem.

"We'll turn around and head right back," promised Devlin. "I doubt they're not gonna come back to claim the farm, but if they had to leave for the duration, like to get the rest of their group as reinforcements, that gives me and Anthony a window to get back our semi-trailer full of food. There's a lot left in Tulsa but it's not infinite, we could really use that trailer."

"What if you get there and you see those people are there, but so are Patty and Jet?"

Devlin sighed. "I don't know how to answer that."

"You're gonna just leave them."

"I didn't say that," retorted Devlin. "I just can't tell you what I'd do in that situation…"

"I'm sorry."

"I want to save them too," assured Devlin in a quiet voice. "I feel bad enough that letting Pedro go is what caused all this."

"I can't believe he just died anyway. Everything we talked about, and it didn't even matter."

"Yeah, it's like momma always said; man plans and God laughs."

"God laughs?"

"It just means, no matter how carefully we plan something out, it could go wrong anyways. Although we could have probably stood to do more planning. We should have run drills after we let Pedro go, remind ourselves of our backup plan. Anthony nearly forgot to meet us here and it's possible Jet and Patty just went straight to Tulsa."

"What if they didn't? Do… do you really think we'll ever see them again?"

"You never know." Clem turned away from Devlin, feeling no hope of ever seeing her other friends again. "Once, me and one other, named Williams, were scouting downriver just outside the city limits when we ran into a whole pack of infected people.

"This was not long after we had settled in Tulsa and were still getting a handle on things, so we started hurrying back to the boat. Along the way we hopped a fence, and Williams landed her jump wrong and twisted her ankle. I started carrying her, but it was a long way back to the boat, and those damn infected never get tired."

"What did you do?" asked Clem as she looked up at Devlin.

"I kept stopping so she could shoot them as they got close. It worked for a while but eventually we realized there were more of them than we had bullets. I wasn't halfway back to the boat when I stumbled, nearly dropping Williams on her head in the process. It was clear I wasn't going to be able to carry her back and keep ahead of the infected too."

"Did you leave her?"

"No, at least not at first. I figured if we couldn't outrun them then I'd just have to kill them all. I had my knife and my nightstick, and by now we knew you had to aim for the head. I figured I could outlast them."

"But you couldn't?"

"They just kept coming. In retrospect, I think we had accidentally ran into a shelter or something where people gathered because our trip had been pretty uneventful until we cracked open the wrong door. The ones we had been killing must have been the fastest because after fighting them off for a while, I saw a whole god damn crowd marching up to meet us."

"So you did leave her, because you had to," concluded a dismayed Clem.

"She told me to, saying she could handle herself, and I still wouldn't leave her. So Williams pointed her gun at me and said she'd kill me if I didn't go… I hated myself for running, and I could hear her screaming as I ran back to the boat."

"I'm sorry Devlin."

"We came back the next day armed and ready. We cut down plenty of infected, but we couldn't find Williams, not alive or amongst the infected we killed. We looked everywhere and kept calling her name, both over the radio and out loud. Nothing."

"Did you ever see her again?"

"Nope…" Clem felt herself growing even more miserable upon hearing that. "Until she came walking back into Tulsa nearly a month later."

"What? How?"

"Yeah, I think that was my exact words when I saw her," said Devlin with a smile. "And I still remember Gina looking at me and smiling before saying 'I told you I could handle myself."

"Wait, Gina? That old lady who stayed with you in Tulsa?" Devlin nodded. "You said this was someone named Williams."

"Yeah, Gina Williams," said Devlin with a smirk. "Thought I'd keep you in suspense for a little while."

"I don't like suspense," said Clem.

"I know, I don't either," assured Devlin as he gently patted Clem's hand. "I just wanted you to know that sometimes people do beat the odds. I still like to think even now, I'll find her and the others again someday. Maybe I'll even think of something clever to say by then."

"Wait, you said you heard her screaming," said Clem. "And how come you didn't find her when you went back for her? And why didn't she call you on the radio? And—"

"It's a bit of long story, one Gina was happy to tell us. If you're still interested I can tell you when you get back."

"You're gonna be careful right?" asked a nervous Clem as she was forced to think about what could be waiting out there for them. "I want you to find Patty and Jet, but—"

"I'll be careful, believe me," assured Devlin in a stern voice. "All that time alone in Tulsa and working on the farm dulled my senses a little, but yesterday woke them right back up. In those early months of trying to keep order in Tulsa we had to be on our guard non-stop. Probably the only reason Gina survived was she was already figuring what to do before she told me to leave."

Clem watched as Devlin stood up, his posture noticeably changing as he did. "I'll be keeping my eyes and ears wide open for the worst and I'll remind Anthony to do the same. We'll be keeping Sarah up to date over the radio. You just rest now, that's what Gina had to do to get well enough to get back to us."

"She didn't get shot." Clem grew anxious upon hearing that out loud. "Do… do you know anyone who got better from that?"

"Not personally." Clem suddenly found it a little harder to breathe. "But... I'd be hard-pressed to name many adults tougher than you are."

"I don't feel tough right now," admitted a trembling Clem.

"I know you don't," spoke a sympathetic Devlin. "Neither did Gina in those weeks she spent sleeping in strangers' beds because she could barely walk. When we asked her why it took her month to make it back, she looked away and said it was because she couldn't wait a month, and messed up her ankle even worse trying to get back sooner.

"Nobody's strong all the time, so just focus on resting now, let us worry about everything else, okay?"

"I… I'll try," said Clem as Sarah and Omid came into the room.

"Anthony is waiting for you," informed Sarah in a meek voice.

"I'm going," said Devlin. "Lock the door and keep watch from the windows. If you see anything other than us coming, just go."

"What if it's the Sunseeker?" asked Sarah.

"You go," repeated Devlin. "For all you know, the people who attacked us took it and went out looking for the rest of us in it. If it's Patty and Jet, they'll know to head towards Tulsa, if not, best not wait around to find out who's in there."

"Oh… okay," conceded Sarah.

"If we come back and you're not here, we'll head onto Tulsa ourselves. After that we'll figure out our next move."

"Good luck," said Clem as Devlin left the room.

"You too." Hearing Devlin step out of the Brave, Clem slowly stood up on the bed, grimacing as she did so.

"Clem, don't." Clem ignored Sarah and went to the window. She watched as Devlin met with Anthony. He had Sarah's rifle and Devlin had the machine gun like he said. They said something to each other, then climbed into Anthony's truck. Clem watched as they drove off down the road, then just kept watching, unsure of what she was waiting for.

"Clem, lie down," urged Sarah. "You're gonna make it worse."

Clem noticed the small hole in the plastic covering the window, then felt a terrible pain in her stomach. Clem lay down on the bed, feeling even more tired then she did a minute ago.

"I think I need another painkiller," said Clem as she turned towards the dresser.

"What? No, not this soon."

"But my stomach hurts."

"Just wait a little longer for the one you took to start working," said Sarah. "Taking too many painkillers is dangerous."

"How dangerous?"

"Like, they could kill you if you took a whole bunch."

Clem felt herself shaking upon hearing that. "Maybe… maybe I shouldn't take them at all then."

"No, it's safe if you take one every now and then, but taking more than one could make you sick, and taking a bunch could kill you. So only take one when the pain is really bothering you, okay?"

"Okay."

"Hum-bee." Clem looked over to see Omid holding a spoon out towards her.

"You're hungry?" asked Clem.

"Actually, I think he's worried that you are," said Sarah as she climbed onto the bed, an open can in her hands. "He kept saying your name and hungry over and over again."

"Kem-men hum-bee." Clem watched as Omid stuck the spoon into the can and clumsily fished out some corn.

"I'm sorry your stomach hurts, but you really need to eat something. You won't get better if you don't." With Sarah's help, Omid guided the spoon forward. Looking down at the corn, Clem wasn't really hungry, but opened her mouth anyway. Omid giggled in delight as Clem chewed her food, the hurried back to the can.

"Thank you," said Clem in a weak voice.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah. "Is there anything bothering you other than your stomach?"

"No... well…"

"Just tell me, it's okay," assured Sarah.

"I was just thinking… this corn is nowhere near as good as the corn we grew."

"I know," sighed Sarah as Omid delivered another spoonful into Clem's mouth. "Canned stuff just doesn't taste that good anymore. It's… just not the same."

Chewing on the wet morsels, Clem couldn't help noticing they were devoid of any flavor beyond salty. She already wasn't hungry, but the longer she chewed on those bits of corn the harder it became to swallow them.

"I talked with Devlin for a while, about maybe just going back to the farm if those people are gone, but he said it'd be too dangerous to stay there anymore, and Anthony didn't want to go at all… I don't blame him."

"It's so not fair," mumbled Clem before looking over to see Omid holding out more corn. She really didn't want to eat it anymore, but leaned forward and took it anyway.

"Devlin said if we get the food trailer back, maybe we could also pick everything that had grown in the field so far and get my plants from the greenhouse so we can at least have some seeds for next year. But it's way too risky to live there anymore."

Clem hadn't even finished chewing her last spoonful of corn before Omid was offering her another one.

"Devlin also said we probably shouldn't stay in Tulsa that long," continued Sarah. "It's not that far from the farm and the people who attacked might go there looking for us at some point. We'll probably have to find somewhere further to move to, somewhere we can start a new farm next year. That means we'll have to find another place close to water and hidden from sight, and we'll have to build everything all over again, if we even can. Without Sin, I don't know if we can—"

Clem started crying into her hands, inadvertently knocking the spoon out of Omid's grip and spilling bits of corn across the bed. "I'm sorry," said Sarah as she hurriedly wrapped an arm around Clem. "I'll shut up, please don't cry."

"Kem-men." Omid's distressed cry made Clem pause, she looked up to find the boy staring at her with sad eyes. He waddled over to her and wrapped his arms as much around her as much as she could. "Lub yoo," he said, sounding like he was going to cry himself.

"I know," said Clem as she wrapped an arm around Omid and Sarah each. "I love you too."

"You know what, hang on a second." Sarah hurried out of the room and returned carrying a glass jar with a dark red substance in it.

"Is that the jam you made?" asked Clem as Sarah unscrewed the lid. "We should save it for—"

"For what? A party?" asked Sarah with a shrug as she picked up the spoon. "I think you could use a treat more now than ever." Just smelling the jam was enough to quiet Clem's objection. Sarah leaned forward to fed Clem, and Clem just snatched the spoon out of her hand. That sweet and sticky concoction was intoxicating, and Clem swirled it about her mouth with her tongue for as long as she could before swallowing it. Tasting something she wanted more of again, Clem lurched forward and quickly took another spoonful of jam from the jar.

"You just eat as much you want," said Sarah in a warm voice as she gently stroked Clem's hair. "And if you need anything else you just tell me."

"Ah-wah-bree," demanded Omid as inched towards the jar. Clem smirked at him, then happily fed the boy some jam. Sitting there, Clem found herself enjoying just listening to the sound of Omid happily smacking his lips together.

"Sarah, you there?" Clem's blood ran cold as she heard Devlin's voice over the radio.

"Was is it?" answered a nervous Sarah.

"We've finished making a wide-sweep. Nothing to report yet," said Devlin as Sarah stood up and walked out of the room. "We found an out of sight place to park. Now—" Was the last thing Clem could hear Devlin say as Sarah carried the radio out of earshot.

"More." Clem looked down to see Omid reaching for the jam jar and quickly took it before he could get it. "Mah!"

"No Omid, we should save some for later," said Clem as she screwed the lid back on. "And save some for Devlin and Anthony… and Patty and Jet." Clem looked up as Sarah returned, a weary look on her face.

"You done?" she asked as she noticed the closed jar.

"Yeah," said Clem.

"No!" protested Omid as Sarah took the jar back. "More!"

"You already had breakfast." There was apprehension in Sarah's voice that bothered Clem as she pocked the jam.

"Is… is everything okay?" asked Clem, nervous to the answer. "What did Devlin say?"

"He said we should maintain radio silence for a while. I'm pretty sure they're going to check out the farm, and didn't want to say so in case anyone was listening in on us with their own radio." The possibility of someone spying on them over the radio terrified Clem.

"Is… is that painkiller working?" asked Sarah as she scooped up a pouting Omid.

"I think so. My side doesn't hurt so much right now and my stomach feels a little better."

"Good." Sarah took a breath as she adjusted her grip on Omid. "I… I need to change your bandages."

"Okay."

"And… I'll probably have to give you stitches."

"Oh…"

"Ree-ree," demanded Omid.

"I'll go put on some music and give him some toys to keep him distracted, and then I'll come back and take care of you."

"Oh... okay."

Clem briefly meet eyes with Sarah, seeing a look of reluctance behind her glasses before turning away and heading out of the bedroom. Clem waited nervously as she heard familiar music sound from the next room. The last time she had stitches was after a dog had bitten her. Turning and looking at the scar on her arm made her cringe, and waiting for Sarah to come back was nerve-wracking.

When Sarah did return, she stopped block the door behind her with a chair, then laid out bandages, alcohol, and a box of scary needles on the dresser. Clementine closed her eyes as she rolled onto her uninjured side, and flinched as she felt Sarah slowly peeling off the bandages from her wound. Sarah cautioned her to just hold still, and Clem did, fearful of what would happen if she moved.

The painkiller worked but only dulled the pain, not kill it. Clem felt every horrible stab made into her side, usually followed by hasty apologizes from Sarah as the sensation of metal and thread being yanked through her tender flesh sent chills up her spine. The pain wasn't the worst part, that was listening to Sarah's nervous mumbling. She wouldn't say it out loud, but Clem could tell Sarah wasn't sure confident in what she was doing.

Thinking back, Clem couldn't stop herself from remembering Sarah saying she had never sewn up a wound before Patty's leg. Patty was okay after that, but this was a lot worse than a single gash. Or at least Clem assumed it was; she was too afraid to open her eyes and look at the wound. Biting her lip and trying to stifle the cries of pain, Clem suddenly heard a voice at the door.

"Sah-rah!" yelled Omid. "Kem-men!"

"You… you should go check on him. He—"

"I can't stop with the wound half open," asserted Sarah, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I'll have to finish then get him."

Omid's cries just got louder as Sarah worked, with the painful stabs coming more quickly now. Over and over again Omid yelled their names, a little louder and more desperate each time. Eventually, Clem could heard a soft pounding on the door. It didn't make much noise, but those tiny fists knocking against the wood was deafening to Clem. Finally, the pounding stopped and Clem could hear a louder crying instead, which just broke her heart as she was forced to lay there helplessly and listen to Omid suffer.

"Okay, done!" Clem opened her eyes and watched as Sarah rushed over and threw open the door. "It's okay, we're right here," she said as she picked up the squealing toddler. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." As Sarah tried to calm Omid, Clem turned her head just enough to catch sight of her own wound. She got a glimpse of a couple of ugly stitches running over a section of mangled red and purple skin. Clem hastily turned away and forced her eyes closed until Sarah returned.

"I think he's okay," said Sarah as she sat down on the bed. "He just got upset when he couldn't get to us."

"I'm sorry," said Clem as she felt Sarah bandaging her side.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault you're hurt."

"I'm just sorry you have to do all this," professed Clem. "I wish I could help."

"It's okay Clem." Sarah helped Clem sit up and Clem opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the overwhelming concern in Sarah's eyes. The second thing she saw was the tidy bandage that was now covering Clem's wound. "How do you feel?" asked Sarah as she gently stroked Clem's cheek.

"A little better," admitted Clem as she found herself tendering grasping Sarah's hand.

"Kem-men," cried Omid as he climbed onto the bed.

"I'm right here," insisted Clem. "I'm okay." Clem turned to Sarah suddenly. "I… I am, right?"

"I think so. It didn't look any worse today, and now that it's sewed up it should start healing. It'll just take a while."

"Which means you'll have to keep taking of me." Clem looked over at Omid. "And him, at the same time."

"I don't mind, and it's not like I won't have any help. Anthony and…" The sound of a loud engine rapidly approaching caused Sarah to freeze mid-sentence. She went racing out of the bedroom while Clem clamored back over to the nearest window as tires squealed just outside. Clem watched as Anthony's truck came skidding to a stop next to the Brave. The first thing her eyes were drawn too was the long line of bullet holes running across the length of the truck; she didn't remember those being there yesterday.

"What happened?" Clem could hear Sarah ask as she ran over to Anthony as he stepped out of the truck.

"It was a god damn ambush, they were ready for us!" Clem felt a ball of dread growing in the pit of sore stomach as she noticed a bloody piece of cloth wrapped around Anthony's left arm. "I was just about to call you when they started shooting. I dropped the damn radio and started running and just barely got back to the truck before—"

"Where's Devlin?"

Clem felt her chest tighten as she watched Anthony look down at his feet. "Devlin's dead; they shot him right in front of me."

"No…" Clem felt whatever little strength she had drain right out of her body. She collapsed onto to the bed and started crying onto the sheets. Those two words; Devlin's dead, kept echoing in her mind no matter how loud she cried. How could he be gone just like that? Why was this happening? When was it going to end?

"Clementine!" Clem looked up to see a trembling Sarah standing over her. "Anthony—"

"I heard," sobbed Clem. "Devlin's dead."

"Yeah…" Clem watched as Sarah wiped her eyes before swallowing hard. "We're going back to Tulsa. Anthony says they might have followed him so we have to leave right now. Maybe… maybe Jet and Patty are already there. I asked if Anthony saw anything, like the Sunseeker at the farm but it sounds like they didn't even get close so… maybe they're waiting for us there."

"Maybe…" repeated a dismayed Clem. She started to cry again when she heard Omid sniveling right next to her. "I'm sorry," said Clem as she hugged him. "It's okay," she lied. "It's all right."

"Sarah!" Clem heard Anthony call.

"I'm coming." Sarah turned to Clem. "Just stay here, I'll drive us back to Tulsa."

Before Clem could answer, Sarah was already out the door. Omid was still whimpering as the loud roar of the Brave's engine started. Clem cradled him in her arms, feeling as helpless as he probably did right now. "Do… do you still want me to read you a story? Ree-ree?" Omid perked upon hearing that. He stopped crying and looked at Clem expectedly. "I'll go get your favorite book and read it for you. Ree-ree?"

"Ree-ree!" cheered an excited Omid.

Clem groaned as she stood up and went to the cabinet above the bed where they kept Omid's books, or at least they used to. As Clem dug through the various items stuffed in the cabinet, she suddenly remembered they moved all of Omid's books into the farmhouse, which they had now abandoned. She dug through the other cupboards and the dresser drawers, finding other things she didn't need and some of Patty's clothes.

"Ree-ree?" asked Omid, sounding upset.

"I'm… I'm sorry but…" Clem spotted a blue book covered in golden stars and planets surrounding a decorative sun etched into the middle of the cover lying on the far dresser. "I… I'll read you… the story of your parents," said Clem as she flipped through the pages of Sarah's diary. "Your parents were some of the bravest smartest, nicest, funniest people I ever met." Clem just turned to a blank page and pretended to read.

"This happened when you were even littler, so little you were tiny, and living in your mommy's tummy." Clem poked Omid's belly, producing a giggle from the boy. "I first met your parents on the worst… one of the worst… I met your mommy and daddy on a very, very bad day, and they made it a lot better."

Clem regaled Omid with the tale of his parents as best as she could, talking as much about them as she could while trying to avoid mentioning anything too frightening, forcing herself to say his daddy had to go away but still loved him. She was pretty sure Omid didn't understand most of the words she was saying, but she made sure to keep using the words mommy and daddy, hoping Omid would remember them. She had just about reached the end of the story, finding it hard to recall Christa's final painful moments as Omid stared at her expectedly.

"Your mommy…" Clem swallowed hard. "She gave us this RV, and as much advice as she could, and… she gave us you." Omid seemed to be confused as Clem pointed at him. Clem looked down at the blank pages of the diary and set it aside. Instead, she headed over the dresser and picked up their photo album. There was a thin layer of dust on the cover that Clem brushed away before opening it.

"This was your mommy." Clem opened the album to Sarah's pencil sketch of Christa and set it in front of Omid. Omid crawled over to the open album and looked at the drawing. "That's mommy. Can you say mommy? Mom-me."

"Mommy," said Omid as he placed his hand on the drawing.

"And this is your daddy," said Clem as she gestured to her crude crayon drawing of Omid Sr. "Say daddy. Dad—"

"Daddy."

Clem smiled upon hearing that. "Good," she said before looking down at the drawings. "Your mommy loved you very much. Both her and your daddy did, even though you were in your mommy's tummy then. They can't be here with you, but they did everything they could so you could live a good life and—"

Clem tensed up as she heard the squeak of the Brave's tires. She crawled back to the window and saw they were parked in abandoned Tulsa shopping center. Clem found herself instinctively scanning for threats. She didn't see anything of concern yet, but couldn't help feeling danger was just out sight with every old car and store window she studied. Turning her head, she found herself staring the Sam's Club and found the sight of it still standing to be oddly comforting.

"Clem," said Sarah as she headed into the bedroom.

"We're here," noted Clem. "Did you see the Sunseeker or—"

"No, it looks the same as when we left," said Sarah with a sigh. "Anthony and are I going to check in the Sam's Club, make sure it's still okay." Sarah set a familiar radio with peeling flower stickers on the bed. "I'll have the other one, the only other one now that Anthony has lost his. I changed channels on them both in case someone was listening in before."

"That's smart."

"It was Devlin's idea…" Sarah choked back a sob. "After nobody called yesterday, he said we should change them in case the people who attacked us found one of our radios and figured out what channel we use. Anthony told me just now we should change them again in case they already figured out which channel we switched to. If… if something happens—"

"Don't say that," begged a desperate Clem. "I… I can't—"

"Just keep it on, and lock the door if you can," suggested a hasty Sarah. "I'll be right back." Clem watched as Sarah removed a gun from her holster and marched out of the bedroom before Clem could object. She shuffled out after her, leaving the bedroom in time to see Sarah heading outside. Clem watched through the windshield as Sarah and Anthony, armor with guns and armored in raincoats marched right up to the Sam's Club main entrance and, after a brief peek past the door, disappeared inside.

Clem forced her tired legs to stumble forward and lock the door, then flopped onto the pulled out couch. Seemingly everything she did now was exhausting and made her next action harder than the last. As she lay on the couch, she felt herself growing even weaker than she felt a minute ago. And forced to lay there with her thoughts, the news of Devlin's death started floating to top of her head and she had to resist the urge to cry all over again.

"El-muh." Clem looked up to see a worn stuffed elephant staring her in the face. "Tah-bah el-muh Kem-men."

"Patty must have brought this with her when you stayed with her the other night." Clem smiled as she picked up the tiny tusked toy. "I still remember the day I got this for you," said Clem as she stroked Elma's chewed up ears. "There was just this big pile of stuffed animals stacked up in someone's house and I knew I wanted to get you one and just picked this. Later, I remembered your daddy once said he was going to get me an elephant, and maybe that's why I picked it."

Clem looked over at Omid and saw him smiling now. "You're such a good boy. You're only one year old and you're already trying to take care of me. Your mommy and daddy would be so proud of you. I… I'm so proud of you Omid. I—"

There was rumbling sound at the door. Clem watched as Sarah came marching in. She tossed her keys aside and the tossed away her raincoat in an equally frustrated fashion before collapsing into the driver's seat. Clem sat up and watched as Sarah wept into her hands.

"What's wrong?" Sarah looked up, then collapsed back into her hands. "Sarah, tell—"

"It's all gone…"

"What? What's all—"

"Everything!" Sarah's sudden outburst startled Clem and sent Omid crying as he wandered away towards the bedroom. "Everything, everything in the Sam's Club was gone. The food, water, even the radio and guides Jet left behind, it's completely empty now."

"What?" asked Clem in disbelief. "That… that's impossible. I was here just a couple of weeks ago with… with Devlin. Everything was—"

"I know, Anthony said the same exact thing… he couldn't believe it either." Sarah sniveled as she wiped her eyes. "Some… someone must have come and just... taken it all."

"Who?" asked Clem in dread.

"I… I don't know, but, they picked the store clean." Those words sent a chill down Clem's spine. "We didn't look for long because we were afraid they could still be around, but even the tires by the front door were gone. It… it was like all those empty buildings we found after we left Shaffer's. It—"

There was a bang at a door and Anthony came charging in. "Sarah, what are you're waiting for, we gotta get outta here!"

"I know, just give me a minute!" snapped Sarah.

"We're leaving?" asked Clem. "But, wait, what about Patty and Jet? They could still be here somewhere and—"

"And we could run into whoever stole what was left in there if wait around much longer," reminded Anthony, his every word racked with panic. "We already agreed we couldn't stay here long lest those fuckers who attacked the farm figure out we were going to the biggest city in the state. Hell, they could be the ones who took everything. Maybe—"

"I know all that!" barked Sarah. "But we can't just leave without looking for Patty and Jet and—"

"The only reason we came back here was because it has food, which it doesn't now," stated Anthony. "If Jet and Patty came here, they would have left too when they saw there was nothing left but the chance of running into whoever stole our food. You heard that woman, she mentioned someone, what was his name—Octavius? That's not a name you pick if you want to make friends; that's a name for someone who wants others to know they're not to be fucked with. Does that sound someone you want to risk running into?"

"Of course not, but… what if we beat Patty and Jet here," said Sarah. "We gotta leave them a message or—"

"The code," stated Clem as she forced herself to sit up. "If they come here, they'll definitely check the Sam's Club. We'll leave the word Ceres on the main door and underline the second E, that's where the N is in Owens. They'll see it and know we went north."

"Right, to Interstate Eighty," realized Sarah. "That's where we talked about going if we ever had to move again. We can leave messages behind on the road signs too so they can find us."

"That's not a good idea," stated Anthony. "If the people following us figure out the code then—"

"How could they possibly figure it out?" asked an annoyed Clem.

"Who knows, they may have taken Jet prisoner, asked him all about the rest of us and he told them the code."

"Jet wouldn't do that," dictated Clem.

"You don't know what he would do. For all we know, they threatened to kill Patty right in front of him if he didn't talk. When they killed Devlin, I swear, they knew we were coming, like someone told them what we'd probably do… they could be on their way here right now. We gotta leave."

"You're right," said Sarah. "But we should still leave the code, in case Patty and Jet are out there."

"Sarah, we—"

"If you don't I—"

"I'll take care of it," insisted Anthony. "Ceres and underline the second E, right?" Clem nodded at him. "All right, I'll leave that on the door, then we're getting out of here." Anthony headed outside while Sarah approached Clem.

"Do you need help going back to the bedroom?" asked Sarah.

"I… yeah." Sarah carefully picked up Clem and carried her back to the bed, where Omid was crying softly. She then picked him up and placed him next to Clem, who proceeded to stroke his back until he settled down.

"What… what are we going to now?" pondered Clem out loud.

"Well, we still got plenty of food stored up, so we should be okay for a while," spoke Sarah, as if she was trying to convince herself. "We'll starting head north to Interstate Eighty like we planned and find a good place to wait. If Patty and Jet are alive, they'll be heading that way to… if they remember the plan. God I hope they're okay."

"Me too," said Clem in a whisper as she gently stroked Omid's hair. "What then?"

"Huh?"

"After we're done waiting, or Patty and Jet find us, what do we do then?"

"Then… I don't know."

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 80 - Reactivity

Clementine rolled over yet again and saw Sarah was still asleep, then turned away and stared at the window. She was relieved to finally see clear signs of the sun rising but still felt dawn couldn't come soon enough. This night had been one of the longest of her short life, with Clem repeatedly trying to fall asleep only for her racing mind to keep her awake with questions she didn't have answers for.

How could she be in love with Sarah? Clem kept trying to rationalize it as not possible. She was drunk last night, except she hadn't been, she had barely drunk any whiskey. She couldn't be in love because she didn't know what it felt like, except it was just like Patty had described, like lightning. Why would she fall in love with Sarah now and never before? Clem didn't know, she just knew that she had.

Every waking moment Clem's head wasn't filled with frustrating questions were ones filled with thoughts of Sarah. The loving concern in her voice when she spoke, the look she made when she worried, the way she'd tease Clem when they played chess, all of it Clem couldn't stop revisiting, searching for some clue that perhaps Sarah was in love with her as well. It was utterly maddening for Clem and made worse that she couldn't even turn her head without risking becoming captivated by Sarah's beauty.

Her sweet smile, those soft big brown eyes, that gorgeous hair, her ripe skin, those strong arms and toned legs, all of it was utterly intoxicating and Clem had to resist the urge to pull back the covers for a better look at Sarah's sleeping form. She couldn't even look at Sarah's face for more than a few seconds before feeling an overwhelming urge to kiss her on the lips. And feeling her breathing beside her, Clem wanted nothing more than to just reach out and touch Sarah, but didn't.

Suddenly it didn't feel right, it was different somehow from all the other times she had held Sarah in the past. Anytime she inched closer to make contact she suddenly remembered Mick, and how he had forced Sarah to kiss him, and how horrible it was for her. Anytime she stared at Sarah for too long she thought about when she was in the bath and thought Jet was watching her, and how awful that made her feel. Clementine suddenly understood why people did these things, how their urges compel them to act in a way that hurts the same people they desire, which just left Clem feeling ashamed because no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't banish these temptations from her own mind.

Probably the greatest urge Clem struggled to resist was waking up Sarah and just saying 'I'm in love with you' to her face. The longer she tried to deny it the more certain Clementine had become. Now, with the sun coming up, Clem realized she would have to make a decision on whenever to tell Sarah or not. She had tried to hold onto the hope that Sarah was in love with her too, that she'd tell her and suddenly everything they had would become greater than it had ever been before.

But anytime Clem tried to entertain the hopeful notion of her and Sarah being in love together, something else would rise to the top of her mind. Jet said people usually don't have crushes on ten-year-olds. Devlin didn't like Patty the way she did because he couldn't like girls that way. Patty said her friend became angry at her when she dared to tell him she didn't love him, and they couldn't be friends after that. Is that how Sarah would act if Clem told her she was in love with her? Is that how Clementine would act if Sarah told her she wasn't in love with her?

These questions tore at Clem with every passing minute, picking at her every unpleasant thought like fingernails picking at scabs. The mere idea that this revelation could possibly end their friendship made Clementine feel sick. She kept telling herself she couldn't risk telling Sarah how she felt, but no amount of rationalizing could change Clementine's actual feelings. Like Patty had said, being in-love changed everything, and even in the few hours since that change, Clem already felt this horrible weight upon her as she contemplated denying her feelings to preserve what she already had.

Turning her head again, Clem watched as Sarah stirred under the covers. Seeing her roll over in place, Clem's chest-tightened as she watched Sarah blink her eyes.

"Sarah," whispered Clem. "Are you up?"

Sarah didn't answer immediately, instead only yawning softly. Clem tried to think of what to say next when she heard a couple of dull thuds in the distance. Sitting up, Clem could see it was dawn now, but looking out the window there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Just then there were a couple of loud cracks that sounded like they came from inside the house. Panic shot through the girl's veins like electricity as she heard a sudden stomping sound charging right towards their door.

"Clem?" mumbled Sarah. "What's that—ahh!"

A thunderous crashing filled the room as the door burst off its hinges and a tall man wielding a long rifle came charging in. Sarah screamed as he rushed to the bed and yanked the covers off with a single sudden swipe of his hand, leaving a nearly naked Clem to rush into Sarah's trembling arms for whatever meager privacy and comfort they could provide. Sarah was choking back panicked sobs while a paralyzed Clem could only stare at the rifle barrel pointed at her head.

"Jesus…" Clem heard the man say, too afraid to even look up at his face. "You're just kids." His voice sounded surprised, but before Clem could get a good look at him, there was another voice calling from outside.

"Ethan!" she heard someone unfamiliar yell. "Whatta you got?"

"A couple of kids!" yelled the man as he turned away and moved to the door.

"There's another one in here," called the other voice. "Just… round them up and bring them downstairs; I'm gonna search what's left of the house."

The man, Ethan presumably, turned around. Clem was surprised to see he didn't look much older than Patty or Anthony. Dressed in a shabby pocketed vest that hung off his slender frame while he held a rifle, Clem couldn't help thinking he looked like a sickly Byron. His eyes darted downward at where Clem was lying with Sarah, then he averted his gaze. "Get dressed," he said, sounding flustered. "Then wait outside."

"Wuh-what do you want from us?" croaked a terrified Clem as she clung to a still sobbing Sarah.

"We're not here to hurt you."

"Wuh-why are you here?" blurted out Sarah. "If… if you don't want to hurt anyone?"

"I said we're not here to hurt you." Clem shuddered as she saw a heavier man with a shotgun walk past the door. "Now get dressed." Ethan stepped out of the room and Clem darted to the dresser. She put on her clothes as fast as she could, barely able to thread her legs into her pants while her hands were shaking so badly. Slipping a shirt on and grabbing her bracelet, Clem spun around to see Sarah struggling to put her pants on. Approaching her, Clem could hear Sarah crying as tears streamed down her face

"Are you okay?" whispered a trembling Clem.

"No," she whispered back through her tears. "Wuh-what's going on?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Clem.

"I… I just wanna wake up," cried Sarah as she rubbed her head. "I… this can't be happening. I… I feel so sick… I…" Sarah snapped her head forward suddenly and puked onto the floor. "I… I'm sorry," mumbled a quivering Sarah through her own spittle.

"It's okay, it's okay," insisted a terrified Clem as she guided Sarah onto to the bed. "Just get dressed." Clem rushed over to the dresser and grabbed Sarah's glasses. She passed them to her friend just as she finished putting her pants on. Taking the glasses, Clem was disturbed by how badly Sarah's hands were shaking.

"I… I'll get our shoes." Clem hastily scooped their socks and shoes off the floor just as Sarah reached over to the other dresser. Clem watched as Sarah hastily stuffed the folded note Clem gave her and Anthony's necklace into her pockets. Putting her shoes on, Clem suddenly tried to think if there was anything she should take with her, but couldn't concentrate long enough to think of anything. Instead, she found herself just staring at Sarah as she put her shoes on.

"I'm in… I… I mean… I love you." Clem shot forward and turned her head just in time to kiss Sarah's cheek instead of her lips.

"I—"

"Hey!" Both girls gasped as they heard the man outside shout. "If you're not out here in the next ten seconds I'm coming back in there."

Clem hurriedly tied her shoes before rushing outside, guiding Sarah by the hand as she did. The second they stepped outside, Clem noticed Jet sitting on the floor, his face racked with terror and his arms wrapped around himself.

"Okay." Clem turned her head and the first thing she saw was that long black rifle in Ethan's hands. Looking up, she saw a stern look on the man's face, but also noticed a hint of apprehension tugging at the corners of his eyes. "All three of you, go downstairs, slowly."

Clem forced her wobbly knees to start moving, practically dragging Sarah forward. Each step was followed by two more behind them, one from Jet, and the other from Ethan, the man holding them hostage. The sound of those feet on the hardwood stairs was sickening, and the faint scent of vomit from Sarah was making Clem feel even worse. With every single step, Clem was terrified that she would just collapse and the only thing that kept her standing was the fear of what would happen if she did.

"You three, go sit on the couch."

Clem found herself gravitating towards the couch without thinking. She sat down on the end of it and immediately felt Sarah sitting down beside her, her whole body shaking and her eyes wide open in terror. Clem squeezed her hand and wrapped her free arm around the girl. Looking over at Jet, she could see him shuddering in fear too. Before Clem could say anything, Sarah reached over and grabbed Jet's hand, and then he almost immediately moved his free arm around Sarah and grasped Clem's hand, providing her with a much-needed shred of comfort.

"We're not going to hurt you," assured Ethan, a bit of guilt hanging in his voice as he spoke. "Just stay still and this will—"

"Who are you going to hurt?" Jet asked suddenly, barely able to control the fear in his voice. "You keep saying you won't hurt us, but then why are you here?"

Ethan looked at Jet, then turned away. "We're just here to square some business, not hurt children."

"Yuh-you are hurting us," stuttered Sarah, trying her best not to cry. "This… this… this hurts. I'm… I'm so scared and…" Clem felt sicker as she heard Sarah struggling to breathe.

"Well… just be patient, and it'll be over soon."

"What will?"

Before Ethan could answer, the front door creaked open. Clem watched in distress as Sin came walking through, his hands raised in the air as he was lead forward by a man with a short gray beard and a pistol. This was an older man, maybe older than Sin, and his wrinkled dark skin just made him look like he dried up in the sun one day like a raisin.

"Jet!" Sin said as he laid eyes on the boy.

"Granddad!"

"Easy now!" instructed the older man in a stern but non-threatening voice as he placed a hand on Sin's shoulder. "Like I said, no one is gonna hurt him, and if you just cooperate this will be easier for everyone, all right?"

"Cooperate with what?" Clem found the fear in Sin's voice disturbing; she had never heard him sound so frightened.

"I'll explain in a minute, as soon as everyone's here." Not long after the man said that, Clem spotted Devlin out of the corner of her, creeping closer from the kitchen door. She briefly thought he was raising a gun, only for him to move close enough for her to see his hands were also raised in surrender as he was marched into the room at gunpoint by a short woman with a bandana wrapped around her head.

"Both of you, just stand over there by the fireplace," instructed the bearded man, always keeping a wide cushion of space between himself and his hostages. "We don't want to hurt you if we don't have to, but—"

"Ahh!" Clem turned her head in time to see Anthony being tossed past the front door. He was immediately followed by a tall woman with broad shoulders in a long trench coat. There was a raw intensity in her dark eyes as she glared at Anthony and her hand moved so fast Clem barely saw the woman snapping at his shirt collar. "Get up!" She growled as she yanked a disoriented Anthony off the floor. "And get over there with the others!" She shoved Anthony forward towards the fireplace, causing him to nearly trip onto the floor again before Devlin caught him mid-fall.

"What happened?" asked Sin as Devlin helped Anthony regain his balance.

"She… she head-butted me," he mumbled, sounding woozy.

"Dammit Fan," said the bearded man. "I—"

"Don't start with me Sayid." As she pointed at the bearded man, Clem could see the woman was wearing body armor under her trench coat. "This little fucker tried to bite me on the way in," said Fan as she pulled a sawed-off shotgun from under her coat. "We should have just stormed this place guns blazing in the first place instead of listening to you."

"If we had we'd have three dead children on her hands right now," noted Sayid as he eyed the couch.

"Wait, where's Omid?" Sarah blurted out suddenly.

"Who's Omid?" asked Sayid.

"He's—" Sarah went silent as she heard what Clem also heard; Omid crying in the distance.

"Hey!" Ethan raised his gun as Clem and Sarah instinctively jumped off the couch.

"You have to let us go to him!" demanded Clem.

"Sit down!" repeated Ethan as Fan raised her shotgun.

"You don't understand, he's…"

Everyone turned to see Patty cradling a sobbing Omid in her arms as she slowly entered the room, a rather apprehensive looking slim man with a gun following behind them.

"I'm sorry it took so long," the man said to Sayid. "But she had… him."

"It's all right." Sayid turned to Patty, who could only stand there in terror as she clung to a still bawling Omid. "Just stand over there with your friends."

"Let us take him!" demanded Sarah.

"He's scared!" yelled Clem.

"I'll just—"

"Just stand over by the fireplace," Sayid ordered Patty. "No one's gonna hurt your baby but I'm gonna have to insist you all kept your distance from each other right now."

Patty reluctantly moved over to the fireplace, doing her best to calm Omid while the big man Clem saw earlier came marching back in from the kitchen, a shotgun still gripped in his hands. Getting a better look at him, she could see he had an unkempt black beard and a filthy flannel shirt that matched the worn and torn jeans he was wearing. Although he was heavier looking than the others, he still didn't appear well-fed, with his sleeve seemingly dangling off his arms.

"You find anyone Oscar?" asked Sayid.

"Nah, there was seven of them, just like he said."

"Actually, there was eight." Sayid gestured to Omid, who was still whimpering softly in Patty's arms. Clem was surprised to see this seemed to disturb Oscar as he his vicious scowl suddenly was replaced with a look of shock.

"You two," said Sayid as he turned to the slim man and the woman in the bandana. "You keep watch outside and yell if you see anything. Already we see that we were given… incomplete information; we can't rule out there might be more people here."

"Got it." The woman gestured to the man and they quickly headed back outside, leaving the group with their remaining captors; Ethan, Oscar, Fan, and Sayid.

"What do you people want from us?" asked Devlin as calmly as he could.

"It's the farm, isn't it?" concluded a nervous Patty. "Just let us go and you can have it."

"They want us alive," realized Sin. "Because they know they need someone to maintain it."

"What we want is justice for one of our own," announced Sayid. "Now—"

"Which one of you did it!" barked Oscar, prompting Omid to start crying. "Which… which one of you…" Clem watched in disbelief as the unbridled hostility on his face suddenly mutated into a look of tearful regret. "Which… which one of you killed Pedro?" Oscar barely managed to say before turning away in tears.

"We… we don't know what you're talking about," muttered Patty.

"Don't lie to us!" bellowed Oscar again, which provoked a hysterical squealing from Omid. "He knows what you did! He wrote it all down in his log! It… was the last thing he ever wrote."

"Although he left out a lot of details," noted Ethan. "He mentioned seven people, but not that three were kids and that there was also a baby here."

"He didn't have time," argued a blubbering Oscar as he looked at Ethan. "Writing all that shit in code while… while… while, dying, he… he didn't have time."

"If you people don't want to hurt kids, then you should know I'm only seventeen," announced Anthony, his usual bravado overshadowed by the quaking fright in his voice. "I—"

"Tried to bite me," reminded Fan in a stern voice.

"And so you can stand right there!" dictated Oscar.

"Stop yelling!" pleaded Patty as she tried to comfort the hysterical toddler. "He's upset enough as it is." Clem felt sick as she listened to Omid cry so hard he could barely breathe. She turned and directed an angry glare at Oscar. Much to her surprise, he actually looked ashamed in response.

"Why don't you just let me do the talking?" Sayid looked at Oscar, who then wandered off into a corner. "We found Pedro a few days ago, not far from here," explained Sayid in a calm voice as he looked at everyone standing in front of the fireplace. "He was just walking around as… one of those things."

"I'm sorry for your loss," spoke a sincere Devlin. "But if Pedro really did write down everything in his log, then he must have written that we let him go; we didn't kill him."

"Bullshit you didn't!" yelled Oscar in a forced whisper.

"Pedro said you people let him go," informed Sayid. "He also said he started feeling sick right after he left this place."

"What?" asked Sin in surprise.

"He looked okay when he left," recalled a nervous Devlin.

"We can't help it if he got sick after he left," added Patty.

"Don't bullshit us," stated Fan. "Pedro was fine before he came here, then right after leaving he starts feeling dizzy, then tired, then he passes out and—"

"And he wrote every bit of it down," said Oscar, practically crying now. "That… that last part he wrote… he was so scared he couldn't even use the code… he said he… he knew he was going to die." Oscar suddenly leaned on Fan as he began sobbing loudly.

"Get ahold of yourself," insisted an irritated Fan as she shoved Oscar off.

"He told us," cried Oscar. "He said he wasn't ready. We should have listened to him."

"You people poisoned him," accused Ethan. "He was just a boy, he never hurt anyone."

"He fucking shot me!" retorted Patty.

"Liar!" bellowed an angry Oscar.

"I can show you the scar!" insisted Patty as she found herself rocking Omid after Oscar's latest outburst caused him to start crying again.

"Is that why you poisoned him?" asked Sayid. "He nearly killed one of you?"

"We didn't poison Pedro," stated Devlin.

"We couldn't," argued Sin. "We only fed him vegetables we grow in our field, and he would have noticed if we put anything in them."

"This the same field you're keeping your latest victim tied up in?" asked Fan. "Or was he the last person who came here before Pedro?"

"That's just a walker we found in a city," informed Clem. "We leave it out there to scare away the birds."

"A likely story," scoffed Sayid.

"Have you ever tried to grow your own food?" asked Sarah.

"No, but—"

"Then what the hell do you know about taking care of a farm?" accused Sarah in a forceful tone. "I used to have to chase away crows every morning and after every meal just so they wouldn't eat everything out there."

"And you people don't have any issues with tying up someone's living corpse just because you can't be bothered to deal with birds?" asked Fan. "Hacking people up just to use as a scarecrow doesn't strike me as sane."

"They're not people," argued Jet. "Not anymore."

"Yeah, I imagine a cult who'd write a book about dicing up corpses to ritually smear yourselves with their innards probably would think like that," said Fan in a judgmental tone as she looked at the four accused. "That another one of your tricks? Hoping if your poison didn't finish Pedro off he'd follow those suicidal suggestions you gave him? Or do you sickos really just believe in that nonsense? Which one of you wrote that disgusting thing anyway?"

"I did." Fan raised a single eyebrow as she looked over at Jet. "And do you really think I'd go through the trouble of typing and printing over fifty pages just to trick someone?"

"Be a pretty good way to sell your little commune's dogma, dressing it up like it's an actual guide," reasoned Fan. "Or maybe it's just an elaborate way to sell your lie, trick other survivors into killing themselves to eliminate possible competition. It is printed, so I doubt that was the only one you printed."

"I printed those to help people," retorted Jet. "And everything I wrote in them is true."

"Really?" scoffed Fan, almost laughing at Jet. "Those things don't notice people if you just paint yourselves with their blood?"

"Nope."

"Prove it."

"I'll walk outside and cover myself in that walker's blood right now if you want!" challenged Jet. "And it'll forget I was ever there!"

Fan opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. Jet stared angrily at her and Clem noticed her confidence melted away as she turned to Sayid suddenly for answers, who appeared just as confused as she did.

"I know what it sounds like," spoke Devlin as he looked at Sayid. "I thought they were crazy too when they told me about it, but it absolutely does work."

"It's the only reason I've stayed alive for so long," interjected Clem. "How many other kids have you seen still alive who are as young as me? People as little as me don't stand much chance against walkers if they notice you…"

"We put that guide together to help others survive, and we gave it to Pedro because we thought his people could use it," explained Devlin as he turned to look at Sayid. "We're just a group of people trying to stay alive. I imagine you are too. If you weren't, you wouldn't have thought twice about just killing us in our sleep." Sayid didn't respond to Devlin.

"This… this can't be right," stuttered Fan, sounding conflicted.

"Fan…"

"It's some sort of trick Sayid."

"Fan."

"It has to be!"

"Fan!" Sayid glared at Fan, who grimaced in response but said nothing. "Regardless of that… revelation," Sayid said to the others. "You have to understand, from where I'm sitting, I'm still wondering about what kind of people would tell a boy they'd let him live, then kill him."

"We didn't kill Pedro," stated Devlin.

"We spent a lot of time arguing about it, and in the end we decided to let him go," added Patty as she adjusted her grip on Omid.

"If you were arguing, that means some of you wanted to kill him," reasoned Sayid. "And that means, you didn't have to elect to kill him as a group; just one of you could have done it, maybe behind the others' backs."

Sayid's words were followed by a tense silence. Being held hostage was traumatic enough for Clem, but the revelation that one of the others could have been responsible for murdering Pedro added an entirely new level of panic to this entire horrifying ordeal.

"We just want justice for Pedro," informed Sayid, sounding unsure for the first time since he started speaking. "And, if one of you was willing to commit murder behind their allies' backs, then I imagine the rest of you might be relieved if he wasn't amongst your numbers anymore."

"Or her," said Oscar as he eyed Patty.

"I think it was him," Fan gestured to Devlin. "He seems to have an answer ready for everything, and he doesn't even sound that worried compared to the others."

"I am worried," assured Devlin. "Worried what you people will do if I raise my voice or say the wrong thing."

"Devlin voted to let Pedro go," argued Jet.

"Which means some of you voted to kill him," concluded Sayid.

"No, we all agreed to let him go in the end."

"Then why did you single him out as voting to let Pedro go?" Jet opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. "I've been watching him carefully," said Sayid as he gestured to Anthony. "He didn't look as surprised as the other three when Oscar said Pedro was dead, and he's been real quiet this entire time."

"I'm quiet because I don't want to get shot," spoke a nervous Anthony. "And hearing your guy died isn't as surprising as waking up to be taken hostage."

"What about the older guy?" suggested Ethan. "He seemed pretty insistent it'd be impossible to poison Pedro earlier."

"I didn't say it was impossible, I said he would notice," corrected a nervous Sin. "It's just common sense."

"You were also the only one who said anything when Oscar told you Pedro was dead," recalled Ethan. "My momma always said the guilty dog barks."

"Your mother was a fool!" retorted Sin a harsh voice. "If I had killed Pedro then why would I be surprised to learn of his death? I'd be the one person who would have expected this."

"Maybe you knew we'd know that and faked being surprised to throw us off."

"This is absurd!" barked Sin, practically fuming as he looked at Sayid. "You… you don't know me—you don't know any of us! You just come in here, take us all hostage, and demand one of our heads for something we didn't do!" Sin glared at Sayid. "You don't care about Pedro, none of you do!"

"You shut your fucking mouth!" demanded Oscar.

"This is all just a show—a flimsy pretext to serve as justification for taking our farm."

"We're not doing that," insisted Sayid.

"Wait, what?" asked Fan. "I'm sorry, when did you make that decision?"

"I knew it," scowled Sin. "You just wanted our farm. I'm sure Pedro described it carefully; how else would you have known you had the right place to knock in the doors of?"

"We had expected something quite… different from what Pedro described in his journal," said Sayid. "But we just want justice for him. Help us find out who killed him, and we'll leave."

"Leave?" repeated Fan. "But, that field—"

"Isn't ours, and we're not thieves," stated Sayid.

"We need it," insisted Ethan. "This wasn't the plan."

"The plan was we'd find out what happened to Pedro," insisted Sayid.

"Are you willing to tell Octavius that?" asked Fan. "That we came back empty-handed because you cared more about Pedro's killers than the rest of us?"

"Octavius put me in charge of this outing for a reason," retorted Sayid. "We're not avenging one child by starving four others."

"So what the hell are we doing?" asked Fan.

"We find the one who killed Pedro and leave, with them."

"And what happens to them?" asked Devlin.

"They kill him." Sin looked down at the floor, then looked up suddenly. "Take me."

"Granddad!"

"You're confessing?" asked Sayid.

"Yes, the others had nothing to do with it."

"I knew it," proclaimed Ethan.

"You don't know shit," retorted Fan. "He's obviously lying."

"How'd you do it?" asked an unconvinced Sayid.

"What's it matter?" retorted Sin with a shrug.

"It matters because I'm not condemning a man on what sounds like an obvious lie," insisted Sayid.

"Why not?" challenged Sin. "You've taken a bunch of innocent people and their children hostage, what do you really care who you bring back? Just so long as you have someone to show for your dead."

"Grandad stop it!" pleaded Jet.

"I'm old… I have less to lose than anyone else here."

"Granddad!"

"Is it possible, however unlikely, whatever happened to Pedro was a coincidence?" suggested Devlin as he raised his voice. "Like Sin said, he would have noticed if we put anything in his food, if our guide misled him he surely would have written that in his log before he died, and like Jet said, we can prove to you everything in it is true if you want."

"It still seems like quite a coincidence," concluded Sayid. "That he just died right after he left the people who had reason to kill him."

"I don't know what else to tell you," confessed Devlin. "Maybe he caught something, some nasty sickness that's broken out amongst all the dead bodies. Maybe he had some kind of condition, like an aneurysm. Maybe… he cut his foot on an infected's teeth, like an already dead one just lying in the dirt, and he didn't even realize it, and… that killed him."

"Could… could that happen?" asked Ethan, sounding worried. "I mean, if they're dead, like for good, wouldn't it not work anymore?"

"You think you can't catch a disease off a corpse?" scoffed Fan.

"If it was that simple, then why have none of us ever died from fighting those things except when they bite us?" retorted Ethan. "Even that one scratching me that one time didn't do shit, it's only the bites."

"I always figured it was something in the salvia, like rabies," said Oscar.

"When have you ever seen one of them salivating?" asked Sayid.

"I don't get close enough to their mouths to check," retorted Oscar.

"Can they even salivate anymore?" asked Ethan.

"They still eat," reminded Fan with a shrug.

"Yeah, even after you blow them in half and they don't even have a stomach anymore," added Ethan. "No reason to think they need whatever gland makes you salivate anymore either."

"Then how the hell do the bites kill people?" asked Oscar.

"Who's to say?" answered Sin. "Everything we know about the walkers conflicts what we thought we knew about the world. I speculated it could be something reacting with the calcium in their teeth, and it might also be in their bones, but none of us ever stopped to test it."

"There's been enough death as it is, and I'm sorry to hear there was another one, especially with someone so young," Devlin told Sayid. "Let's not have anymore."

Sayid sighed as he rubbed his face.

"You can't seriously be considering just going," objected Fan.

"We can't just kill someone without evidence," concluded Sayid.

"We have evidence," insisted Oscar. "Pedro himself—"

"He wrote he was scared, and he didn't know what was happening," stated Sayid. "Just that it might have been the people who let him go who did something, but he wasn't sure."

"But—"

"That's what he wrote," repeated Sayid. "He wasn't sure."

"They have to have done something," insisted Fan. "That guide in Pedro's pack, they could have laced it with something."

"With what?" asked Sayid with a wave of his hand.

"What about that wine we found in his pack?" asked Fan. "That easily could have been from here, they could have poisoned it."

"Wine?" repeated Anthony before looking at Patty. "Didn't you give him a bottle of wine right before he left?"

"Is that true?" asked Sayid as he looked at Patty.

"Yeah, I gave it to him as a going away gift," said Patty.

"And you told him to try it," recalled Jet. "Even though he didn't drink."

"It was just a suggestion," insisted Patty. "I figured it might help with her nerves after what happened."

"She did it," concluded Oscar.

"It would make sense," realized Ethan. "She did say Pedro shot her."

"Jesus Christ, I just gave him a goodbye gift," stated Patty. "How the hell would I go about poisoning a bottle of fucking wine anyway?"

"Anti-freeze," Clem said out loud without thinking. "You… you told me it tastes sweet, and that your dog drank it not knowing it was bad, and it killed him."

"She gave him the red wine," added Devlin. "What color—"

"It's red," finished Sin. "That's the color of the anti-freeze she uses in our vehicles."

"Patty," spoke a shocked Sarah. "You—"

"No!" denied Patty loudly.

"Really?" asked Clem in disbelief. "You didn't poison Pedro?"

"I swear to God I didn't!" spoke a heartbroken Patty as Omid started crying again. "Jesus Christ Clem, haven't I always been honest with you? Have I ever lied to you once since we became friends? Even once?"

"You… you haven't," realized Clem.

"I think we've heard enough," insisted Oscar as he grabbed Patty's arm, prompting Omid to start screaming.

"No!"

"She didn't do!" protested Clem as she jumped off the couch.

"Sit back down!" yelled Ethan.

"You're gonna make me drop him!" Oscar let go of Patty but refused to move away from her as she grabbed hold of Omid. "Jesus Christ at least… at least let me put him back in his crib?" Patty pled to Sayid. "He's scared half to death and he's needed a diaper change since he woke up. Just let me do that, just let me change him and put him to bed. You said you wouldn't hurt him and that's all you've done since this has started."

Sayid looked at Patty for a moment, then turned to Oscar. "Go with her and watch her, carefully."

"Got it." Oscar turned to Patty, carefully raising his shotgun before looking down at Omid. "Where do you keep the diapers?"

"Over there, in the closet," said Patty. "I'll show you."

"Slowly," urged Oscar as he followed behind his Patty, his shotgun aimed at her back.

"We don't know she did it," Devlin whispered to Sayid.

"She didn't," whispered Clem a little louder. "I'm sure."

"You both sounded sure she had a minute ago," noted Sayid.

"We were wrong," stated a guilt-ridden Jet.

"Patty's a good person," insisted Sarah.

"I can tell you people don't want to believe one of your own would murder a boy," spoke an emphatic Ethan. "But it's looking like she wasn't as good a person as you thought."

"We don't know she killed Pedro," insisted Sin. "The wine, if you still have it, we can find a way to test—"

"I made sure to pour it out after we found Pedro, in case it was poisoned," informed Fan. "Good thing I did."

"You can't just take her away like that," Devlin stressed to Sayid. "Not without knowing for sure."

"I haven't decided anything yet and I'm not gonna do anything hasty," reassured Sayid. "When she gets back we'll—"

"Hey, drop it!"

Clem stood up on the couch and spun around in time see Oscar raising his gun as Patty whipped out something in front of him with her free hand.

"Oscar!" said Fan as she aimed at Patty. "What—"

Patty turned and spit something at Fan. Landing on the floor at the woman's feet, Clem could see it was a metal ring attached to a straight piece of metal.

"Get the fuck back, all of you!" ordered Patty as she held out the grenade in one hand while clutching a whimpering Omid in the other. "You try anything and I drop this, then we're all dead!"

"God dammit Oscar!" said Ethan as he abandoned his post at the couch to join Fan.

"I told you—"

"She just grabbed it the second she opened the closet," defended Oscar as Sayid joined them.

"You should have shot her!" said Fan as she kept her gun trained on Patty as she inched towards the couch, Omid crying every step of the way.

"And risk killing the baby?"

"Better it than us!" Patty reached the couch and immediately shifted Omid towards it.

"Quick, take him," whispered Patty, not even trying to hide the terror in her voice. Sarah grabbed Omid and Patty immediately hurried away from the couch and took several steps towards her attackers.

"That's far enough!" ordered Fan as she placed herself in front of the others and aimed right at Patty.

"You know how this works?" taunted Patty. "The second I let go of the handle, the fuses starts and then a few seconds after that you'll all be dead."

"You with us," reminded Ethan as he aimed his gun at Patty.

Clem noticed the downstairs closet was still open and remembered there was a pistol still stored in there. Seeing Patty stand before four armed people with nothing but a grenade in her hand, Clem felt compelled to act. As the others slowly inched towards the front door, Clem started creeping towards the closet.

"Just drop it!" ordered Oscar.

"No you dipshit!" yelled Fan. "That's the last thing we want her to do!"

"Seriously, how do you think you're gonna get out of this alive?" Ethan asked Patty. "Even if you do drop that grenade, it'll kill you too."

"Better than just me like you fuckers wanted!"

"And risk all your own people's lives as well?" challenged Sayid. "You could just as easily get them killed as well with that thing."

"If you're you so worried about our welfare, fucking leave!"

"Not without Pedro's killer," demanded Oscar. "If you really gave a shit about your people you'd come along quietly."

"I didn't fucking kill Pedro!"

"Someone did," insisted Sayid.

"And if we come back empty-handed, or don't come back at all, the next group of people sent out here isn't gonna bother with all this talk," informed Fan with a sinister smile. "They'll just shoot you."

"Fine, you want someone so bad? Take him," Patty gestured to Anthony as he neared the front door.

"Patty!" exclaimed Sarah.

Clem watched as everyone turned to look at Anthony and saw her opportunity. She inched along the walls and started moving towards the closet.

"If anyone here killed Pedro, it was him," accused Patty as Clem reached the closet. "I don't know how but it's just the kind of thing he would do." Clem placed her hand on the pistol. "He was the one who kept saying we had to kill him, over and over again."

"I said we don't want him leaving or he'd bring a bunch of his friends back to kill us," corrected Anthony as Clem grabbed hold of the pistol's magazine next. "If anyone ever listened to me, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Son-of-bitch!" Clem looked over to see Fan staring right at her as she removed the pistol and its magazine from the closet; she raised her shotgun.

"No!" Clem held up her hands as there was a deafening bang.

"Ahh!" yelled Patty after darting in-between Fan and Clem. Clem watched in horror as blood was pouring down Patty's left arm, and then Clem noticed the grenade bouncing across the floor as its handle popped off.

"Shit!" Patty kicked the grenade towards Sayid's people as everyone started running. Clem only made it a few steps towards the front door when there was a deafening explosion and Clem stumbled, the gun flying out of her hands as she did. She was about to stand up when there was a second, even louder explosion and Clem felt something slam her back onto the floor.

Everything became silent except for a horrible ringing that made Clem's head hurt. Pulling herself off the floor, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Clem saw the legs of someone running out the front door as she stood up. She looked over her shoulder and turned away as soon as she saw the black smoke pouring out of the now flaming kitchen. Trying to run from the flames, Clem stumbled and found herself painfully colliding into the ground again.

She could feel the heat from the flames behind her and before she could stand up again, felt something pulling on her arm. She looked up to see Jet helping her to her feet. She saw his mouth move as he said something, but couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears. Instead, she followed his lead and went sprinting for the front door. It almost felt like the door wasn't getting any closer no matter how fast she ran, but then suddenly Clem burst past the threshold.

The morning sun was blinding, but only for a second. After her eyes adjusted, Clem felt a rumbling under her feet and turned her head just in time to see Anthony's truck smashing through the gate. The faint noise of another engine suddenly became audible over the ringing, Clem hurried around the side of the house to find the Brave idling in place. She raced for the door when someone jumped out in front of her.

"Where's Jet!" she could barely hear Sin yell over the ringing sound.

"Jet? He's right—" Clem turned around to find there was nothing behind her. She started running back around the house without thinking, compelled to find Jet. She burst around the corner in time to see Jet leading a wounded Patty out the front door. She was about to run to them when Oscar and Fan came bursting around the opposite corner.

Oscar immediately charged forward and shoved Patty onto the grass while Fan grabbed Jet by the arm. Clem watched in horror as Oscar aimed his gun at Patty, then Jet yanked himself out of Fan's grip. He threw himself on top of Patty and wrapped his arms around her.

"Get him off of her!" yelled Oscar as kept his gun aimed at the pair. Fan stepped forward and grabbed Jet with both hands but couldn't dislodge the boy from Patty, only managing to drag them both a short distance in whatever direction she pulled.

"Shit, by the—" Oscar was silenced by a burst of gunfire that erupted across his chest. The man went flying onto his back as Jet stood up. He led Patty back into the house as Fan turned to fire at Clem. Clem ducked behind the corner of the house and only then spotted Sin standing beside her, firing a machine gun. He recoiled suddenly as he was struck by something she couldn't see before stumbling into cover behind the side of the house.

Clem could see blood oozing from small marks running across his right arm and chest, and he dropped the machine gun on the grass as he fell to his knees. Her instincts taking over, Clem grabbed the gun with both hands and raised it just in time to see Fan running around the corner. She pulled the trigger without thinking and the gun kicked upward, causing a series of tiny explosions all the way up Fan's vest as she hastily stumbled backwards out of sight.

Clem hurried around the corner and saw Fan crawling across the grass in pain. She lined up the gun's sights with the woman's head and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Before Clem could figure out what was wrong, she saw two other people burst past the far side of the house just as Fan rolled over onto her back and aimed her shotgun at Clem again. Clem felt frozen in terror, unable to move, then felt herself flying backwards.

"Into the RV!" she heard Devlin yell as she felt him pulling her by the shirt collar. Clem came to her senses and started running for the Brave's door. She burst past the threshold so quickly she collided with Sarah coming out.

"Clem!"

"Sarah!"

Clem tossed the gun aside and hugged Sarah.

"Sarah, drive!" ordered Devlin as he dragged Sin into the Brave.

"No, where's Jet!" exclaimed Sin as he tried to break free from Devlin's grip.

"And Patty!"

"We can't wait! Go!"

"But—"

The sound of gunfire followed by loud metal bangs cut through the conversation. Clem found herself hitting the ground on instinct as Sarah dove into the driver's seat, keeping her head down as she slammed her foot onto the gas pedal. The Brave shot forward as the horrible noise of shots erupting on its exterior continued to sound from the direction of the house. Clem could hear glass cracking as she looked up in time to see Omid standing at the door for the bedroom.

Clem jumped off her feet and ran forward, grabbing the boy as she carried him into the bedroom. Clem dropped down as she heard more bullets rattling against the Brave's exterior. "Stay down," whispered Clem as calmly as she could to a crying Omid. "Okay, just stay right here, and it'll be okay," she said as she heard more shots. "It's… it's a game, just stay right here, and you'll win." Clem said while forcing a smile onto her face. "Okay? Look, you're winning! You're such a good boy!"

Clem's forced enthusiasm seemed to slightly ease Omid's concerns. It was then she noticed the gunfire had stopped. Carefully she got off the floor and headed over to the back window. Gently easing up to it, Clem peered outside, and found herself heartbroken at the sight of their home fading away into the distance, a pillar of black smoke rising out from it and into the sky. Everything they had built had nearly disappeared from view when Clem felt a sudden sharp pain across her right side.

There was a metal ding that sounded like it came from inside the room and Clem clutched her side as the pain intensified. She suddenly noticed a small hole in the plastic that Patty had set-up to replace the back window that she could swear wasn't there before. As the farmhouse disappeared from sight behind the trees, Clem turned around to see Omid on the bed now, staring at her.

"Kem-men-dine," he said, sounding worried.

"It's okay." Clem reached out a hand, which caused Omid to recoil in fright. Looking down, Clem saw blood staining her own palm.

"Kem-men-dine!" Clem saw blood gushing from her side before collapsing onto the bed. "No! Kem-men-dine!" Clem tried to tell Omid she was okay, but couldn't. Instead, she could only stare helplessly into his quivering eyes as everything went black. Just before she passed out, Clem found her mind gripped by the terrifying image of dying, then returning as a walker that would kill Omid.

Clem didn't know how long she drifted in the darkness until she opened her eyes again, just that the brief time she did was the most terrifying of her life. She wasn't even sure what she was looking at, just that there was light again as she blinked. As her eyes adjusted, Clem felt relieved to see she was in her own bedroom. For a moment, she thought that everything that had transpired had been a nightmare and she was finally waking up. But as everything came into focus, she realized she was in the bedroom of the Brave, not the farmhouse.

Sighing as she suddenly felt the weight of their situation bearing down on her again, Clem tried to sit up when she felt a shooting pain in her side. Looking down, she saw her shirt was missing and there was a bundle of bloody bandages wrapped around her waist. Disturbed at the sight of her own injury, Clem tried to reach over to grab a shirt, only to discover her left wrist was tied to the dresser.

Reaching over to untie herself with her free hand caused her side to ache, but Clem gritted her teeth long enough to undo the rope. As she slowly stood up, her side throbbing the entire time, she could hear people talking in the next room. Heading over to the door, Clem was surprised it just didn't slide open. Applying force was painful, but she managed to crack it enough to find there was a rope wrapped around the handle on the other side. With a little careful prying with her fingers, Clem managed to pull the rope over the top of the handle and get the door open.

"Kem-men-dine!" No sooner had she opened the door than was Omid rushing up to meet her, his usual look of excitement replaced with one of overwhelming concern.

"Omid! No!"

Clem looked up to find Sarah, a gun shaking in her bloodied hands.

"Sarah?" said a shocked Clem. "Are—"

"Oh thank God!" Sarah put the pistol away and rushed forward to hug clem. "You're alive! You're—"

"Oww!"

Sarah hastily let go of Clem. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," babbled Sarah. "Not just about that but—"

"You tied me up, so if I… died, I wouldn't kill anyone else."

"How do you feel?"

"Bad," admitted Clem as she clutched her side. The pain had only gotten worse since she stood up. "It… it hurts really bad and—"

"Here." Sarah rushed over to the counter where there were unrolled bandages and pill bottles were strewn about.

"Take a painkiller," ordered Sarah as she placed a pill in one of Clem's hand and a bottle of water in the other. "Then go lie—"

"Someone's coming!" Devlin's words sounding from the radio on Sarah's waist sent her scrambling back to the driver's seat while Clem hastily swallowed the pill. It was then Clem noticed Sin lying on the couch, bandages running up his right side while his left hand was bound to a short rail running over the edge of the counter. She going to take a step closer to examine him when she heard something.

"Kem-men-dine," said Omid. "Hum-bee."

Feeling too weak to do much else, and still confused to what was happening, Clem decided she could at least keep Omid happy. She shuffled over to the closet and took a can of pears from inside.

"They've stopped," Clem could hear Devlin yell from Sarah's radio. "I think they're watching us." Clem did her best not to think about what was happening. She walked over to the counter and grabbed the can opener, finding herself instinctively avoiding moving any closer to a still unconscious Sin. Struggling with the can opener, she couldn't get the can to open no matter how hard she tried, her hands just too weak and shaky to apply any actual force to the device.

"Kem-men-dine." Clem turned around to see Omid clutching a bag of freeze-dried ice-cream. "Ah-bree."

"Sure," spoke Clem in a weak whisper as she took the bag. "You deserve a treat." Clem tried in vain to open the bag with just her hands, then finally just dug out a pair of scissors. Even using the scissors proved difficult, her grip so weak she could barely move them, but eventually she cut off the top of the bag and managed to retrieve a broken piece of vanilla ice-cream.

"Here you go Omid." After bending down as much as she could before the pain became too much, Clem offered the morsel to Omid. "Have some ice cream." Clem tried to fed Omid but he closed his mouth and turned away.

"What's wrong? I thought you were hungry?"

"Kem-men-dine hum-bee." Clem tried again to feed Omid the ice-cream, but he wouldn't eat it. Eventually, just holding it out in front of him, Omid took the ice-cream from Clem's hand. Clem expected him to just eat it himself, but instead, Omid stepped forward and held the piece up over his head. "Kem-men hum-bee."

"You… you think I'm hungry?" Clem took the piece back from Omid, which seemed to please him. Chewing on the piece of ice cream, Clem was pleased to see Omid smile again, and she couldn't deny tasting that sweet dessert helped her feel a tiny bit better. "Thank you," Clem told Omid.

"Lub-yoo," said Omid, a hint of optimism returning to his voice.

"I—"

"It's Anthony!" Sarah went rushing out the door and Clem went shuffling after her. She paused as she heard a loud moaning coming from the couch and turned her head expecting to see the worst. She watched in terror as she saw Sin slowly rise from where he was sitting, then turn and look at Clem. He looked pale and tired, but he wasn't a walker. Clem inched over to the railing and untied his hand, then the pair headed towards the door together.

Stepping outside, Clem saw they were parked on a severely cracked old asphalt lot surrounded by long buildings lined with doors. Looking out near the road, Clem could see a sign that read 'Economy Inn' and realized this was the meeting point they agreed to if they ever got separated. Looking back down, she watched as a familiar old truck with a camper on it pulled into the motel.

"I can see him!" announced Sarah as she approached the truck.

"Anthony, are you okay?" asked Devlin as Anthony stepped out of the truck. "Did you get hit?"

"No, I'm all right," assured Anthony, sounding nervous. "I was half-way to Tulsa before I remembered we were supposed to come here if the shit ever hit the fan."

"Where's Jet," croaked Sin as he approached Anthony. "Is he with you?"

"It's just me. Jet ain't with you guys?"

"Patty's not here either," added Clem in a sad voice. "We… we left them behind."

"Shit…" sighed Anthony. "Then there ain't anything we can do for them now."

"No!" protested Sin. "They… they refused to shoot Jet, I saw it. They wouldn't shoot children."

"It sure looks like they shot that one," noted Anthony in a grim tone as he pointed at Clem.

"After I shot them," informed Clem. "I saw it too, Jet dove on top of Patty so they wouldn't shoot her."

"He's just like his mother," mumbled Sin, sounding on the verge of crying. "Always throwing himself at those in need."

"They wouldn't shoot him," said Clem. "And he ran back into the house with Patty when Sin shot one of the people attacking us."

"That doesn't mean they're still alive," argued Anthony, sounding hurt as he did. "We… we need to go back to Tulsa, before those people come looking for us."

"We need to wait for Jet," dictated Sin.

"And Patty."

"I had to unlock the Sunseeker to get that machine gun, so the keys were already in there," explained Sin, sounding desperate. "Jet would know to head for it and could drive it out of there."

"Fine, then he'll probably go to Tulsa; I barely remembered to come here as it is," reasoned Anthony. "Ain't no point waiting here while those people could already be on their way."

"Patty was hurt," announced a saddened Clem. "She'll need help."

"Yeah. If they come here first we need to be here to help them," realized Sarah. "Otherwise… Patty might not make it to Tulsa."

"We… we need to head back and just find them," insisted Sin, sounding desperate as lurched towards Devlin, eyeing the scoped rifle he was holding. "We've got guns, we could reload the machine gun. We need—" Sin gasped as he clutched his side.

"We need to wait here," instructed Devlin as he stopped Sin from stumbling. "We leave now and Patty and Jet come here while we're gone, they might come looking for us and find God only knows what in the process."

"And you need rest, a lot of it," Sarah told Sin before turning to Clem. "Both of you. I… I bandaged the wounds the best I could but… I don't know if I did everything right, and, if you keep moving around…" Sarah turned to Anthony suddenly. "Can Sin stay in your camper? He needs a bed to lie down on and we'd have to step over him if we used the fold-out one in the Brave."

Anthony sighed. "Sure, why not?" he said with a weak shrug.

"I… I should have been behind him," mumbled a tearful Sin as he shuffled over to Anthony's camper. "I never should have let him out of my sight."

"Just rest, like Sarah said," instructed Devlin before handing Anthony a radio. "Keep an eye on him, get him whatever he needs, keep us updated if anything happens. Sarah, you do that for Clem and Omid. I'll keep a watch on the road and call if I see anyone coming."

"Got it," said Sarah as she handed her radio to Devlin. "Come on Clem," she said as she grasped Clem's hand. "You need to be in bed"

"Kem-men-dine?" Clem saw Omid say as he walked across the pavement. "Hum-bee?"

"I'm not hungry," assured Clem as she limped back towards the Brave. "But thank you."

Hobbling along the side of the Brave, Clem was disturbed by all the bullet holes now running across it, including a couple going through the windows. Climbing back up the stairs was difficult, even with Sarah's help, and by the time Clem reached the bed, she felt exhausted. Her every action was a small ordeal now and Clem could barely summon the strength to move as she lied down on the bed.

Sarah retrieved a new radio and switched it on. Setting on the dresser, Clem recognized it as her own, two of the faded floral stickers still clinging to it even now. Sarah then went to great lengths to prop up pillows just the right way so Clem could at least sit in bed comfortably and then carefully tucked her in. Clem was grateful for Sarah's love and concern but felt uneasy as she realized just how helpless she really was right now. She even found it difficult to summon the energy to thank Sarah.

"God, I… I was so scared when I found you on the bed," recalled Sarah as she scooped the bloodied sheets off the floor. "I… I thought I lost you and… and…" Sarah dropped the sheets and started crying into her hands.

"I… I'm sorry," spoke a choked Clem as she reached out for Sarah.

"I… I can't believe this is happening," sobbed Sarah as she caressed Clem's hand. "It… it feels like a nightmare. I… I just want to wake up."

"Me too…" croaked Clem in a whisper.

"Kem-men-dine." Clem could see there was no hiding her distress from Omid as he crawled across the bed towards her. Clem motioned for him to come closer, and he curled up beside her as she wrapped an arm around him. "Lub yoo," spoke Omid, sounding tired as he settled in for a nap.

"I love you too." Clem looked over at a still sobbing Sarah. "This… this is my fault."

"No it isn't," assured a sniffling Sarah.

"I never should have mentioned the anti-freeze," realized Clem. "She… she was right, she's never lied to us since I talked to her about that gun she brought into the Brave that one time. Ever since then, she was always there for us, always honest to us and... I didn't believe her," sobbed Clem. "Now… now she's probably dead, because of me. And Jet, and Sin, and me, and the farm… it's all my fault." Clem looked over to Sarah, hoping for some kind of comfort, but instead, she saw Sarah doubled over in grief. "I'm sorry. I'm so—"

"It's not your fault Clem," assured Sarah. "We all thought she did it for a minute there. Everything we've been through together and… all of us were scared enough to believe the worst for a minute… all of us. If… if anything, this is my fault."

"How is it your fault?" asked a confused Clem.

"If we just killed Pedro, like Anthony, Sin, and Patty wanted, none of this ever would have happened."

"We don't know that."

"Don't we?" refuted Sarah. "They said they found his notebook after he died, and it told them how to find us and how many of us there was. If we had just killed Pedro before he left, then they'd never know we had anything to do with it."

"It would have been wrong to kill him," stated Clem.

"He died anyway," dismissed Sarah.

"We had no way of knowing that."

"But we did know letting him go was a huge risk and… I said we had to do it anyways."

"I said we had to let him go too."

"Only because I made such a big deal about it."

"It was my choice, so if you're wrong, we both are."

"I… I just can't believe all this," admitted Sarah as she shook her head. "Everything we worked so hard for… we barely got to even taste it. It… it all went up in smoke, literally."

"I don't understand why there was so much fire," mumbled a confused Clem. "One grenade did all that?"

"I think there was still a propane tank in the kitchen from where I boiled water a few days ago. I... I should have done it outside, but it was so hot…" Sarah sighed and rubbed her head. "Maybe… maybe it'll be okay? You said they wouldn't shoot Jet, and Sin said the Sunseeker already had the keys in it, and they were so busy shooting at us while we were leaving, Jet and Patty could have gone through the house and climbed out one of the windows facing the driveway."

"Yeah, they could," said Clem, a tinge of cautious optimism in her voice. "Jet's smart, he would have done that instead of trying to go through the flaming kitchen."

"And, after they get here, we can all go back to Tulsa, there's still a ton of food we left behind."

"It'd be enough to last us until the next spring," realized Clem. "And we all know a lot more about farming now. We could probably start a new one, maybe somewhere further away this time."

"And I think you and Sin will be okay," assured Sarah. "The shots that hit him were really small and I don't think any of them hit his major organs. And the one that hit you just kind of nicked your side. I think you only feel bad because of shock, which is what happens when you lose a lot of blood at once. Once you've both had plenty of time to rest, then—"

A gunshot rang out across the area. It sounded so close that Clem could swear the shooter was just outside.

"Devlin, what is it?" asked Sarah as she grabbed the radio.

"I don't know," he reported. "I can't see anyone."

"It… it was me," said Anthony, his voice shaking. "It… it was… Sin. He… he turned."

"What!" exclaimed Clem.

"I… I just walked in to check on him and he wasn't moving… and then he lunged at me."

"Did you get bitten?" asked Sarah.

"No I'm okay but… Sin's dead."

"No…" Clem felt her heart breaking as those last two words echoed in her ears. "No… that… that can't be. He… he was okay. I… I just saw him."

"Jesus…" said Devlin over the radio. "Anthony why… why you don't take watch for a while, get out of the camper. I'll… I'll find a spot to bury him… we… we owe him that."

Clem found herself crawling to the nearest window with whatever strength she had left. She didn't want to see what she was about to see, but felt compelled to witness it. Clem watched in utter despair as the now lifeless body of the man she had come to care for be carried away. His skin sickly and unnatural like a walker now, a hole in his head where Anthony shot him, and an expression of feral aggression forever frozen on his face as he was carried into the shade under a big tree beside the motel.

Watching Sin's body be carried away, Clem moved her hand down to her own aching side. She held it there for a second, wincing as even touching it was painful, and then she started crying. She cried so loud that is literally hurt her already injured side, and yet she couldn't stop crying. She could hear Sarah begging her to stop, and Omid sobbing beside her, and yet Clem couldn't stop crying. Instead, she cried until she literally couldn't breathe anymore, finally passing out in exhaustion. But this time as the world faded from view, she welcomed the darkness.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 79 - Quinceañera

Clementine could see light shining in past the edges of the curtains and instinctively covered her face with a pillow to block it out. Her hands reached out under the covers for Sarah, but she found nothing in her grasp. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, Clem realized she was alone in bed. Checking her watch on the dresser, she was surprised to see it was already past eight in the morning.

Hurriedly getting dressed, Clem was also surprised to see the house was empty. Omid wasn’t in his room, and even heading out into the yard there were no clear signs of the others. She was starting to get worried when she heard voices coming from the driveway. Moving around the side of the house, she found everyone gathered by the door to the Brave.

“Just a bit longer, and there!” Sarah stepped back and Clem could see Patty holding Omid still on the bottom step of the Brave.

“He’s getting so big,” noted Patty as she helped Omid down.

“I know,” said Sarah as she wrote a date over the mark she made on the door. “We’re gonna need to get him new clothes again before long.”

“Just put it on a list,” suggested Devlin. “I’ll grab something when I go to check Tulsa in a couple of weeks.”

“Here, measure me,” said Sarah as she handed Patty the bag of markers.

“All right.” Clem quietly approached the group as Patty checked to see how tall Sarah had gotten.

“I knew it,” said Jet as he leaned forward. “You’re taller than me now.”

“Well, it’s more like we’re about the same height,” reasoned Sarah.

“Your mark is just above mine,” argued Jet. “I haven’t grown at all since the last time we did this.”

“Complaining about it won’t make you any taller,” dismissed Sin.

Jet crossed his arms as Clem joined the others. He looked over at her briefly, before looking away in shame.

“Look who’s finally up.” Clem turned to see Anthony looking down at her. He had that weird little smug grin on his face that somehow felt like he was mocking her. “Sleep well?”

“I—”

“Clem, get over here,” called Patty. “We need to measure you too.”

Clem held her tongue and headed over to the Brave. Looking at the doorframe, she already saw new marks for Omid, Sarah, Jet and even Anthony at the top where another line was drawn over the old one.

“Just take off your hat for a second and we’ll see how much bigger you’ve gotten.” Clem removed her cap and stood still as Patty used a red marker to draw a line above her head. “Well look at that, all the farm work must have triggered a growth spurt.”

Clem spun around and was surprised to see her new mark was noticeably higher than her last one. “Huh,” said Clem as she put her hat back on. “I hadn’t even noticed.”

“You and Sarah are going to be taller than me by the end of the year at this rate, although that’s not saying much,” admitted Patty as she dumped the marker back into the bag.

“Thanks for the help,” said Sarah as she started moving towards the back of the Brave. “And you’re still okay with me borrowing your bike?”

“Knock yourself out, I made sure to top off the pressure in the tires this morning,” said Patty as Clem went running after Sarah.

“You’re going riding?” asked Clem as Sarah gravitated to the black bike on the Brave’s rack. “Get mine down and—”

“I want to go riding alone,” announced Sarah as she set the bike on the dirt.

“What? Why? What happened last night?”

“Nothing, I just went to bed.”

“With Anthony?”

“He slept in his truck’s cab so I could use the camper.”

“But, did he do something or—”

“He didn’t.” The way she stressed the word ‘he’ made it clear to Clem that someone had wronged Sarah.

“Well… okay. But going out alone could be dangerous and—”

“I have a radio and already told the others I’ll check in regularly,” said Sarah as she started wheeling the bike towards the gate. “And besides, it’s my birthday, and I’d like to be alone for a while.”

“Oh… okay,” conceded Clem, not wanting to risk upsetting Sarah further. Clem just watched as Sarah pushed opened the gate and mounted the bike.

“Clem…”

“Yeah?” she said expectedly as she looked up at her friend.

“You remember everything I told you about the greenhouse, right?”

“Huh, oh, yeah, don’t worry, I’ll follow the instructions you left me.”

“Thanks.” A slight smile escaped Sarah’s lips before she turned away, which made Clem feel a little better, then Sarah pedaled off and that fleeting sense of comfort left with her

“Come on partner,” said Patty as she placed a hand on Clem’s shoulder. “I saved you some breakfast.”

Breakfast was another salad along with corn and grilled green beans, one of Devlin’s concoctions. They were surprisingly good, being almost crisp like chips since they were still in their skins. Clem spent so much time trying to pick out the specific spices that were giving the beans a pleasant zest that she didn’t even realize it was already half past the hour now.

Heading into the greenhouse, Clem found herself slowly working her way towards every potted plant under the tent. Sarah had painstakingly written separate instructions for every specimen and Clementine followed every one of them, also painstakingly. Carefully measured scoops of fertilizer, doses of water, even adjusting their placement so they get the proper amount of sunlight was required for each and every pot, and almost never in the same amounts.

Most of the plants Clem wouldn’t even be able to tell apart if Sarah hadn’t labeled them. Carrots, potatoes, onions; they all looked just like short green sprouts in brown pots to her. Rotating the strawberry plants like instructed, Clem discovered several leaves missing from one of them and clear signs that something had been chewing on it. This sent Clem on a long chase for the culprit, which eventually she found right back where she started. Hanging from the top of the tent above the strawberry plant was a big green cocoon. Clem sighed, then decided to leave it for now, reasoning the damage was already done and killing it wouldn’t make any difference at this point.

Working in the greenhouse was hot work, and the already grueling sun was magnified by the clear plastic tent top, causing Clem to sweat profusely. By the time she had finished her shirt was drenched and stepping outside felt like escaping a sauna. Exhausted, Clem practically collapsed on the grass and spent the next minute just breathing in the relatively cool air while she wiped away the sweat running down her face. Checking her watch, she saw it was past noon now and picked herself up to get some something to eat.

Heading into the yard, Clem found the others already gathered for lunch. This time Devlin had managed to steam cook green beans somehow and this had given them a pleasantly soft texture. Clem was trying to figure what the beans were seasoned with when Sin informed the others he had cut the kernels off some corn cobs and pureed them into a kind of milk. Putting forth a pitcher of the apparent corn milk, Clem didn’t hesitate to try it. It didn’t quite taste like actual milk, but it was good, and very sweet.

After lunch, Sarah mentioned she was going swimming. Before Clem could offer her company, Anthony offered his, to which Sarah said she just wanted to relax and be alone. Clem was disappointed that she couldn’t join Sarah but was also a little relieved she wouldn’t be alone with Anthony. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but Clem didn’t like the idea of Sarah being alone with him. She also didn’t like working outside on such a hot day either, but that’s what she ended up doing next.

Tending to the field, carrying water back to the house a few buckets at a time, hunting for pests, all done under the burning hot summer sun. Working with Patty to give the crops some additional water to make up for the lack of rain, Clem felt nearly like fainting at times. By the time they were done, Clem was leaning on Patty for support as they limped back towards the house. Despite her weariness, Clem insisted they detour towards Devlin’s first to check in on Omid real quick.

“Hey there Clementine, Patty,” greeted Devlin as the pair stepped into his living room, relieved to have finally escaped the sun for a brief minute. “You two look like you could use a break.”

“Kem-men-dine!” Clem felt a swell of joy upon seeing Omid rushing over to meet her.

“Hey Clem.” And the lack of warmth in Sarah’s greeting sapped away that joy. “Patty.”

“Hey there,” said Patty in-between a couple of deep breaths. “You have fun swimming?”

“Oh yeah, it felt so good just to cool off and relax for a while.” Sarah examined a sweaty Patty and Clem and turned away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“Oh it’s fine Sarah, we all want you to enjoy your birthday,” assured an out of breath Patty.

“Oh I am, and I really appreciate it,” said Sarah before turning to Devlin. “And thanks for looking after Omid.”

“Oh it’s no problem, I love watching the little tyke,” said Devlin as Omid wandered over to a laundry basket sitting in the middle of the room.

“We all do, it means a break from working outside,” said Patty with a weak laugh.

“Kem-men, aye-bah-kib.” Clementine wandered over to where Omid was trying to tip over a laundry basket. She applied a little push to the back of the basket, allowing Omid to finally pull it over. Clem watched as balls and other playthings came tumbling out.

“You wanted your toys?” Clem tried to hand Omid a rattle, but he crawled past that and started pushing against the laundry basket from the inside.

“Here, he wants you to set the laundry basket up.” Sarah knelt down to grab the basket and Clem grabbed the other side. Slowly tilting the basket back up, Clem couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she heard Omid laughing hysterically as they moved it.

“Go! Go!” chanted Omid as he stood up.

“Give the basket a pull,” said Sarah, barely able to keep herself from grinning.

Clem’s arms were aching, but she couldn’t say no to a smiling Omid. She reached down, and just a single tug forward on the basket was enough to send Omid into a fit of excited squeals. Unable to stop herself from smiling, Clem started dragging the basket around the coffee table in the center of the room and Omid yelled in delight the entire time.

“So this is what you’ve been doing all day,” Patty said to Devlin with a smirk.

“Not this specifically, that was Sarah’s idea,” said Devlin.

“One of the parenting books I read said when your baby gets older you should teach them about organizing by stacking stuff in and out of containers,” said Sarah as Clem continued to pull Omid. “But after he got in the basket he refused to get out and then Devlin pulled on it, and—”

“Go!” demanded Omid as Clem stopped to catch her breath.

“And we kind of taught him a new word,” added Devlin.

“Bet you’re regretting that now,” said Patty.

“No,” said Sarah.

“Go!” repeated Omid.

“Maybe a little,” admitted Sarah as Clem started pulling again. “Still, after I got done swimming, I just really wanted to be with Omid for a while. We used to spend whole days with him, but ever since we started the farm—”

“We never have time.” Clem let go of the laundry basket and sat down, taking a deep breath as she massaged her aching arm.

“Go!” demanded Omid, sounding impatient.

“That’s enough for now,” insisted Sarah as she scooped Omid out of the basket. “I… um.” Clem looked up at Sarah, eager to hear what she had to say. “I cleared out the fish traps before I came back, to save you some time for making dinner. I killed them and gutted them and left them in a cooler in the Brave. I figure I’d let you skin them since you’re better at that than me.”

“Oh…” said Clem as she looked back down at her feet.

“If you two are tired, we—”

“We’re still making you dinner,” insisted Patty. “Right Clem.?

“Yeah, I want you to have a really great meal on your birthday,” stated Clem.

“And we should probably get started on if we’re gonna have it ready by sundown,” reasoned Patty.

“Thanks Patty, Clem.”

“You’re welcome,” mumbled Clem with whatever strength she could before following Patty back outside. With wanting to make the best meal she could, Clem elected to work in the Brave’s kitchen, where she already had most of her spices and best tools at her disposable. Skinning fish, measuring oils, cleaning her pan between dishes, cutting up fresh vegetables all just made an already exhausted Clem even more tired.

At Clem’s request, Patty dug up a couple of onions from the field so they’d have a special treat just for tonight. They were both kind of small, but slicing into them made it clear they were ripe as they irritated Clem’s eyes so badly she had to retreat to the bathroom to wash them out. Slaving away under a hot sun just to slave away in front of a hot stove instead was doing her no favors. Clem’s clothes were soaked in sweat, her hair a frizzy mess, and her face covered in dirt. At the very least she was able to correct the last one, but then she went right back to work.

“Feeling better?” asked Patty as Clem stepped out of the bathroom.

“Not really,” said Clem as she headed over to the counter. “But we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“Why don’t you at least let me chop the onions, that way you can sit down and catch your breath at least.”

“Thanks,” said Clem as she stepped aside and let Patty take her place. Clem threw herself on the couch and tried her best to not think about all the other things she needed to do to finish dinner before it got dark.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Patty. “After what Jet did, maybe I should just move into the house and he should just move out here.”

“Here?” mumbled Clem without sitting up. “You mean in the Brave?”

“Yeah, it’d be an upgrade for him and then it’d just be the four of us under one roof like before,” said Patty. “I mean, we’ve never even finished moving in because we’ve been so damn busy. You and Sarah’s photo album, your camera, some of your clothes, all of that stuff is still packed away in overstuffed closets and compartments. Maybe this is just the excuse we need to finally clean them out and get settled properly.”

“Or maybe I should just move out here with you,” mumbled a disinterested Clementine. “Then I won’t bother Sarah anymore.”

“What? What did you do to bother Sarah?”

“Nothing,” insisted Clem.

“Look, if you don’t feel like talking just say so, but don’t think I haven’t noticed she’s been kind of short with you today.”

Clem groaned as she forced herself to sit up. “I… I said something really mean to her last night and I’m pretty sure she’s still mad at me… she should be.”

“You guys had a fight?” asked Patty in disbelief as she turned away from the counter. “What could you have said?”

“I… I said Anthony liked her how Mick did,” blurted out Clem.

“Mick? Wait, wasn’t that the creep you told me about who forced Sarah to kiss him?”

“Yeah,” admitted Clem with a sigh. “I shouldn’t—”

“Why did you say that?” asked Patty in a harsh voice.

“I was mad, and—”

“No, I mean, what did Anthony do that made you think of that Mick guy?”

“Huh? Nothing, I—”

“Bullshit nothing, that didn’t just come from nowhere,” said Patty as she took a step closer. “What happened?”

Clem rolled her eyes. “We were going to bed and Sarah went out to get her glasses. When she came back she said she talked to Anthony.”

“And what’d he say?”

“Not much, but Sarah was already undressed and—”

“What?” exclaimed Patty. “She was walking around in her underwear?”

“She… she had a shirt on,” reasoned Clem. “She said I was just jealous that someone else liked her, and I said Anthony liked her the same way Mick did and… she ran out of the room and stayed in Anthony’s camper for the night.” Patty started moving towards the door. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To talk to Sarah.”

“Right now?”

“Yes!”

“Wait!” objected Clem as she moved between Patty and the door. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you making things worse just because I got mad.”

“I’m not doing this because you’re pissed, I’m doing this to protect Sarah.”

“From what?”

“Anthony, what else?”

“Why does she need protecting from Anthony?” asked a concerned Clem.

“What do you mean why? You just told me why.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you just said—I don’t have time for this.”

“Make time!” demanded Clem as she shoved back against Patty’s attempt to push past her.

“Jesus Clem, would you just trust me on this, there’s a very good reason I need to talk to Sarah.”

“What is it?”

“What?”

“The reason.”

“Are you serious?”

“If it’s a good reason you can explain it to me.”

“You think I don’t have a good reason?”

“I think you just don’t like Anthony… I don’t like him either,” admitted Clem. “But, that’s not a good reason to tell Sarah to stay away from him.”

“That isn’t the reason,” insisted Patty.

“Then what?”

“Are you serious? Did you forget about how he treated me? Hell, treated us just last night when Jet was caught peeping on you?”

“I know, and that’s why I don’t like him. But, Sarah does, and he seems to be nicer to her than—”

“He’s full of shit, and he’s just pretending to be nice to her because she’s literally the only woman here after me.”

“Do… do you know that for sure?”

“What? Of course I do!”

“How?”

“I… I just know. What else could it be?”

“Maybe he really likes Sarah?” reasoned a reluctant Clem.

“Oh come on Clem.”

“Maybe he does. Sarah’s smart, and kind, and… pretty. Maybe Anthony really does like her.”

“What… what are you doing?” asked a confused Patty. “You just told me about how Sarah walking around in her underwear in front of Anthony bothered you and now you’re defending him? Why did you even say what you did to Sarah if you weren’t afraid for her?”

Clem looked down at the floor. “I… I guess because I just miss having Sarah around and I’m mad at Anthony because Sarah wants to be with him more than me, and… I’m jealous.”

“Oh…” Patty’s face softened as she processed what Clementine had said, then a sharp scowl returned to it. “Well I’m not jealous, and she needs to stay the hell away from Anthony, and I’m gonna tell her why.”

“Tell me first,” insisted Clem as she once again blocked Patty’s attempt to leave.

“You really need me to explain this to you?” asked Patty in disbelief. “Were you really jealous of Anthony or were you afraid for Sarah?”

“I was jealous… but, I do get a bad feeling when she’s alone with him.”

“That feeling is you worrying about what Anthony and Sarah are doing when no one is around,” explained Patty. “What do you think they were doing last night in his camper?”

“She told me she just went to sleep.”

“With Anthony.”

“He slept in the truck.”

“Do you know that or did Sarah tell you that?”

“Sarah told me.”

“So you don’t know then.”

“Sarah wouldn’t lie to me,” asserted Clem.

“She ever get mad at you like that before last night?”

“Not like this, no.”

“Then maybe she lied to you this time.”

“She wouldn’t do that. She tells me everything.”

“Maybe she’s doing something she doesn’t want to tell us about.”

“What… what do you think she was doing?” Patty only sighed loudly in response. “Patty!”

“She’s a teenager Clem, she and Anthony both.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“It means… they’re at that time in people’s lives when their hormones are going crazy and they’re prone to making terrible decisions because they’re horny, in love, or both.”

“Horny? What—”

“It means you want to have sex, or at least stuff relating to sex.”

“What? Sarah doesn’t want to do that.” Patty’s face twisted slightly, like she was going to say something but stopped suddenly. “She doesn’t,” insisted Clem.

“She’s asked me about sex a couple of times.”

“What? When?”

“Once when we were working on the Brave and another time a few days after I found out Devlin was gay,” reported Patty. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time because, well, she’s a teenage girl and she’s curious.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know this,” spoke a stunned Clem.

“She knows you get squeamish on the topic, and you’re… well, ten, and it’s usually something you don’t discuss with most ten-year-olds,” explained Patty.

“So wait, does this mean, Sarah wants to… have sex with Anthony?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I’m not waiting around to find out,” insisted Patty as she tried to push past Clem.

“Wait,” ordered Clem as she pushed back yet again. “If… if that’s what Sarah wants, then—”

“Then someone needs to talk some sense into her.”

“About what?” asked an increasingly confused Clem. “Do you think Anthony would ever… rape Sarah?”

“Clem, not every man has to rape a girl to get what he wants from her,” said Patty with a wince. “Some of them are patient enough to con a girl into doing what he wants.”

“But if Sarah… wants to do this, then—”

“Then she’s making a horrible decision.”

“But—”

“Clem, you’re just gonna have to trust me on this. You remember how you felt when you caught Jet watching you take a bath?” Clem shuddered as she was forced to remember last night. It made her skin crawl to even think about it. “Well I can guarantee you Anthony wants a lot more from Sarah than just to see her naked.” Patty hastily slipped past Clem in a moment of confusion.

“Patty don’t!” Clem spun around and grabbed the woman’s arm.

“Let go Clem!”

“Just don’t! For me?”

“Clem, I’m not letting Sarah literally fuck up her life for you or anyone.” Patty pulled her arm free and headed towards the guest house.

“Then can you just wait until tomorrow?” Patty stopped. “Please? Just don’t do this on her birthday, okay? Let her be happy tonight, then talk to her tomorrow, please? She made a really great party for me and… I want to make one for her.”

Patty let a long groan, then marched back into the Brave.

“She can have her birthday tonight,” dictated Patty as she returned to the kitchen counter. “And then first thing tomorrow morning, I’m telling Sarah to stay the hell away from Anthony because he’s a lying sack of shit only interested in her for one thing and he’s no good for her, regardless of what she thinks.”

“What if you’re wrong?” asked Clem in a biting tone. “What if… what if Anthony does just care about Sarah, and she’d be happy with him?”

“He doesn’t and she won’t be,” retorted Patty.

“How do you know?” asked Clem in a biting tone.

“I just do.”

“And what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“But what if you are?”

“Frankly Clem, I don’t care.”

“You don’t care you’d mess up everything for Sarah just because you don’t like Anthony?”

“Me messing up this little bubble she’s probably building around Anthony is a lot less horrible then him conning her into doing something she might regret for the rest of her life. I see the way she looks at him sometimes, I know what she’s thinking about.”

“She’s not allowed to think a certain way?”

Patty turned and glared right at Clem. “You wouldn’t let Omid touch a hot stove, no matter how much he wanted to.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“What it has to do with this is that sometimes you’ve gotta do things people don’t like to protect them from themselves, and if you really care about them, then their safety is more important if they like you or not.”

“So if you do something and they hate you for it, they’re the one who’s wrong?”

“Depending on what that something is, yeah, they can be.”

“That just sounds like an excuse to make it sound like you’re right.”

“You know, Clem, people don’t always tell kids they know best just to shut them up. Sometimes, they really do know what’s best.”

“Sometimes?” repeated Clem.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“That means sometimes they don’t.”

Clem did her best to ignore Patty and tried to get back to work. Between Sarah getting mad at her, Jet peeping on her, and now Patty insisting she knew better than her, Clem suddenly felt like she was stuck cooking dinner for a bunch of people who weren’t even her friends anymore. Working around a scowling Patty while scooping up diced onions that made her eyes hurt made Clem seriously consider just quitting out of protest. But then she thought about how much Sarah was probably looking forward to her birthday party and went back to work.

Cooking the fish was a simple affair, and the addition of onions to them would be a very welcome treat. Patty had made another salad with little effort, also adding onions to it. This once again left Clem with the dilemma on how to prepare the green beans. She managed to dig out an old recipe book she used back in Spokeston and looked for suggestions, but most of the green beans recipes called for things she didn’t have, usually dairy products like cheese and butter.

After a lot of agonizing, Clem remembered the corn milk Sin made and thought it might serve well enough for a recipe calling for milk. Slicing off the kernels, mashing them up and straining the pulp just to get half a cup of milk was a long and painstaking process, and then that was followed by having to remember how to pan fry onions along with learning how to cook them and green beans into a casserole from a cookbook she hadn’t looked at in almost a year.

The sun was already setting as Clem finally finished the casserole, and she didn’t even time to taste it before Patty urged her to get ready for Sarah’s party. A quick rag bath in the Brave’s mostly waterless shower was all she had time for. Putting on a bright pink top and a matching skirt, Clem stopped for a second to examine her outfit in the mirror. It was the first time she had actually worn it since taking it from Tulsa, and Clem didn’t mine admiring her reflection one bit, but then she noticed the scars on her back.

Clem sighed as she turned to get a better look at them. The top was open enough in the back to make the scars incredibly easy to see. She tried adjusting it, but it was hopeless. Instead, Clem returned to her old bedroom and, after some digging, managed to unearth a nice pink shirt she had never moved out of the Brave. Switching tops, Clem stopped to look at the nicer one she had tossed aside, then sighed again.

“There you are,” said Patty as Clem stepped out of the bedroom. “You ready for the party?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Clem. “How do I look?”

“You look nice.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. How do I look?” Clem took a step back to examine Patty. She was wearing her black leather jacket and the scarf Clem had given her for Christmas, neither of which she had seen in a long time. She also had on the little skull earrings she used to wear when they first met her.

“You look nice,” concluded Clem.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Patty seemed unsatisfied by that answer, then disappeared into the bedroom. Clem shrugged and went to collect dinner. Between the salad, the fish, and the casserole, they had a lot to carry.

“Here.” Clem looked over her shoulder to find Patty offering her something small.

“What is it?”

“Earrings.”

“Earrings?” Clem took the small metal studs and examined them.

“They’re not fancy, but I think they’ll help pull your look together.” Clem took the earrings and hurried back to the bathroom to put them on. Looking at the little round pieces of metal glinting in her ears, Clem did think they looked good on her, and it made her feel a bit better about her appearance.

“Thanks,” said Clem as she left the bathroom.

“No problem.” There was a forced sincerity in Patty’s words, just as there had been in Clem’s ‘thanks’. The pair looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then moved to collect dinner.

Patty removed a half-full jar of homemade jam from a cupboard along with a half-empty bottle of whiskey. She pilled them and most of the food into a laundry basket while Clem grabbed what was left. Arriving in the yard, they found everyone but Sarah already gathered around the dinner table, setting out plates, forks, cups and everything else needed for a meal. Peeling back the aluminum foil covering one of the plates of fish, Clem watched as Omid immediately came hurrying towards the table.

“Migh!” he said as he climbed onto the seat, clearly intent on claiming the fish for himself.

“Oh no, we gotta wait on Sarah,” insisted Clem as she picked up Omid.

“No!” objected Omid as he was pulled away from the table.

“Where is the birthday girl?” asked Patty.

“Still up in her room getting ready,” reported Anthony. “We wait on her much longer and the fish is gonna get cold.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m here then!” Clem looked over to see an excited Sarah standing at the back door. She was wearing a dark blue gown with an ornate floral pattern running down the center of it. The sequin material running across her waist sparkled in the low light of the lanterns and there was a rosy smile on Sarah’s cheeks the likes of which Clem had never seen before.

“You look beautiful…” Anthony had said it, but Clem was thinking it at as well.

“You wore the dress I gave you,” realized Clem suddenly. “But I thought you didn’t like wearing dresses?”

“Well, normally I don’t, but I figured since this was a party, I might try it on tonight.”

“I didn’t think you even kept that dress,” said Clem.

“Of course I kept it, you gave it to me.” Clem found herself oddly touched by hearing that.

“You’re not wearing your glasses either,” noted Jet.

“I figured for once I won’t have to be constantly checking notes I wrote and I could go without them for tonight. Glasses are such a pain.”

“You get used to them after three or so decades,” quipped Sin as he tapped on his own glasses.

“Happy birthday Sarah; God knows you deserve it.” said Devlin with a smile. “Hey, we should all sing her a quick happy birthday. Happy—”

“Ugh, no!” dictated Sarah. “I hate that song. My dad got all my friends together before I woke up on my sixth birthday, and I came downstairs to hear them all singing it and… I just hated it. It’s a song that sounds like people are making fun of you. I ended up running back to my room crying I hated so much.”

“No singing, got it,” confirmed Devlin with a smile.

“But you don’t mind getting presents on your birthday, right?” asked Anthony as he pulled a small box with a red ribbon wrapped around it from his pocket.

“You got Sarah a present?” asked a surprised Clem. “How?”

“I grabbed it when we went to Tulsa a couple of weeks ago,” explained Anthony as he stepped forward. “Been sitting on it, since just waiting to surprise you.” Clem cursed herself for not thinking of that herself.

“I can’t believe you did this.” Sarah grabbed the box from Anthony and immediately tore it open. “Oh it’s a… a necklace.”

Clem watched as Sarah removed a heavy looking necklace out of the box. There were numerous large gems hanging from it, which Clem thought looked more tacky than anything, but Sarah carefully put it on anyway. “Thank you Anthony.”

“It’s the least I could do for the special girl who built the best damn farm in the whole wide world.”

Clem noticed Patty eying Anthony suspiciously before opening her mouth to say something.

“Sarah, why don’t you sit down and eat with us?” Clem was relieved to hear Patty say that. “Clem spent like an hour cooking for all of us.” Clem was less relieved to hear that and she tensed up as Sarah hurried over to the big tray sitting on the table.

“What did you make?” asked Sarah as she peeled back the foil covering the dish.

“I don’t suppose you made us a cake?” asked Anthony as Sarah picked up a spoon.

“No, it’s a green bean casserole.” Clem noticed Anthony cringing upon hearing that. “It was just a recipe I found in my old cookbook, and I didn’t have milk so I had to…”

Clem went silent as Sarah took a bite from the casserole, and felt her stomach tie itself into a knot as Sarah’s eyes almost bulged out of her head.

“Oh God…”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” concluded a dismayed Clem.

“No, it’s really good.” Sarah turned to Anthony. “Try it.”

“I think I’ll stick to the fish.”

“Try it,” insisted Sarah in an oddly forceful tone.

Anthony shrugged and ate a spoonful of casserole, and then looked as surprised as Sarah.

“You put green beans in this?” asked an astonished Anthony.

“Yeah,” said Clem.

“Because it sure tastes a helluva lot better than green beans.”

“Hum-bee!” cried Omid as he struggled against Clem’s grip.

“I’ve got your back little man,” assured Patty as she spooned some casserole out of the dish. “Open wide.”

Omid immediately opened his mouth and Patty fed him the casserole. Clem listened carefully as she heard Omid’s grouchy grumbling transform almost instantly into happy cooing noises as he chewed. “More!”

Clem felt a little like crying after hearing Omid say that. Seeing Sin, Jet, and Devlin all descending on the casserole like vultures, Clem quickly placed Omid in his high chair and hurried to get a taste of her own cooking. Biting into freshly fried onions again was an experience worth the effort alone, but the green beans had a hearty taste now that Clem quite enjoyed and the sweet cream of the corn milk caused everything to mix together into a warm treat that practically slid down Clem’s throat.

“Well before everyone gets fat on casserole, we should have a toast,” proposed Patty as she uncapped the old bottle of whiskey. “It’s a special day with Sarah turning fifteen, so I propose we toast to the birthday girl.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Devlin as Patty poured everyone some whiskey.

“I’ll drink to anything,” said Anthony as he grabbed a glass.

“To Sarah,” declared Sin in an uncharacteristically upbeat voice as he raised his glass. “Whose vision, foresight, and determination have led us to where we are now.”

“Chai-yo!” Jet’s proclamation was followed by a disorganized clinking of glasses in the center of the table. Clem sipped the whiskey before abruptly remembering how much she disliked the taste of it. Hastily putting the glass down, Clem was left with where to begin their great feast. In addition to the casserole, which barely lasted a minute after the toast was finished, they also had the salad, freshly cooked fish with onions, jam, and even a jar of pickles Jet brought out, which tasted different than the pickles Clem remembered but still very good.

Except for the whiskey, everything the group ate had been things they grew or caught themselves, and Clem couldn’t be happier to fill her empty belly with a little bit of everything. While she ate, the others talked, and like last night, everyone seemed eager to shower Sarah with praise, and Sarah appeared all the more tickled to be receiving so much attention. Patty poured more whiskey for everyone and after a while, the conversation turned more towards reminiscing about their past exploits.

Patty regaled everyone with the tale of Clem saving her back in Titusville while having a sprained ankle, which led to Sarah recalling the time she and Clem escaped Shaffer’s. Sin talked about what it was like driving out of the Port Arthur refinery as it was exploding around him, and Jet related that to having to drive the Sunseeker during the flood that nearly toppled the Brave.  Eventually, everyone was discussing the entire day they spent slicing and hacking their way to the Tulsa shopping center.

It was surreal for Clem to hear all these dark and difficult days be discussed as triumphs now by the others; distant things that could no longer hurt them. Watching Sarah, she was laughing and smiling more now than she probably had in the last month. It warmed Clem’s heart to see her so happy, but there was also this nagging voice in the back of her head constantly whispering that she could leave right now and Sarah would be no poorer for it.

Noticing a now very well-fed Omid appeared drowsy, Clem took hold of the heavy boy and carried him back into the house. She changed him into his jammies and carefully tucked him in before placing his favorite stuffed elephant in his crib. Looking at him sleeping soundly, Clem found herself pondering what she’ll tell Omid as he gets older. He was talking more and more every day, which made Clem wonder what she would say when he started asking her questions.

Heading back downstairs, Clem could hear the others laughing just outside and realized there wasn’t much point in her returning to dinner. Instead, she headed across the driveway and unlocked the gate, thinking some quiet time away from everyone would do her some good. She kept walking down the dusty road until the sounds of the party became so distant she could barely hear them. Thinking she was far enough away now, Clem stopped and looked around.

She saw the three saplings she and Jet had planted when they first came here and sat down next to them. Two of them were full of leaves now while the splinted one the right wasn’t. Clem took a breath of the crisp country air as she gazed up at the sky. It was a warm summer night and the moon was bathing everything with its comforting glow, which Clem felt content to just rest under for a while.

“Um… hi.” Clem looked over to see Jet walking towards her.

“Hey,” said Clem in a weary voice.

“I… I wanted to talk to you, about last night.”

Clem groaned as she rolled her eyes at Jet. “I don’t feel like talking about last night,” she said in a harsh voice. “In fact, I don’t feel like talking to you at—”

“I was looking at your scars!” Clem was stunned by Jet’s sudden outburst. She watched as his face twisted from angry, to remorseful, and then to frustrated as he turned back to the house.

“Wait,” said Clem. “Don’t go.”

Jet sighed, then moved closer to Clem. He sat down beside her and took a breath. “I didn’t know you were in the bathroom and when I saw you I was just going to go right back out… but then I saw those scars on your back.” Clem found herself instinctively flinching when Jet said that. “I didn’t mean to stare but… I just couldn’t believe it.”

“Me either,” spoke Clem in a glum voice. “Anytime I see them in the mirror, I can’t believe they’re there.”

“They look almost like wings,” noted Jet. “I mean, like if you had wings there, and… someone tore them off, that’s the kind of scars they’d leave.”

“I didn’t have wings,” mumbled Clem.

“Back in Tulsa, you asked Devlin did they ever whip people. Did—”

“Yes.”

“Why?” asked Jet in disbelief.

“They thought I stole something. Actually, they knew I didn’t, but they whipped me anyway because they didn’t want to admit they were wrong.”

“That’s… that’s sick. How could they just whip a little girl?”

“They were cheering when they did it.”

“Really?” “Yeah… everyone but the one boy they made do it.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” spoke Jet, his voice dripping with sympathy. “And I’m sorry about what happened last night. I tried to explain but—”

“I’m sorry too,” professed Clem.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” insisted Jet. “And I know what it looked like, so I get why you were mad.”

“Still, I could have let you explain,” reasoned Clem. “You’ve been a really good friend, and I didn’t even let you do that.”

“More like Granddad didn’t,” stated Jet in a bitter tone. “I hate him.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I do,” insisted Jet. “And he hates me too.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does, because he hates my dad for getting my mom pregnant when she was still in college, and taking care of me held her back, and so Granddad blames me for that.”

“How could you possibly know that?” asked a dubious Clem.

Jet turned and looked Clem in the eye. “My dad told me, the night before he and mom left for Afghanistan.”

“Oh…”

“I asked him, why was Grandad always mean to him, mean to me? I told my dad, the least he could do was be honest with me, in case… I never saw him again.” Jet sighed. “He told me all about it, how Granddad thought my mom would be better if she hadn’t met my dad, or if… I hadn’t been born.”

“Well he’s wrong,” concluded Clem. “Like I told you, adults are wrong all the time. They always think they know better just because they’re older.”

“Granddad doesn’t think that think about everyone, just me.”

“That’s not—”

“He likes you a lot more than me. He asked me once, ‘why can’t you be more like Clementine?’ And after tonight, he’ll probably be asking me why can’t I be more like Sarah too, and before that he always asked why couldn’t I be more like my mom… I’ll never be good enough for him.”

“I’m sorry Jet.”

“Did you know he didn’t want to help you back when your RV was almost pushed off that bridge? I wanted to say something at dinner but didn’t. After a couple of tries didn’t work, he just wanted to leave, he said we couldn’t reach you without getting ourselves killed and I said I’d drive the Sunseeker into the river if he didn’t try again.”

“But he did try again, and did save us,” noted Clem. “And I don’t think your granddad hates you.”

“You don’t know him like I do.”

“No, but I know what it’s like to fight with someone you love. I used to fight with my mom. The last thing she told me was she loved me, but I wouldn’t say it back to her because I was mad at her.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to go on vacation with her and my dad, and I didn’t understand why I couldn’t come. It was stupid, and because of that I’ve always wondered did she… die, wondering if I really loved her or not.” Clem turned to look Jet in the eye. “Think about if something happened to Sin, or something happened to you; do you really hate each other?”

“I… no, I don’t really hate him,” confessed Jet as he turned away. “But I’m still not sure he doesn’t hate me.”

“Ask him.”

“Ask him if he hates me?”

“Or at least tell him he shouldn’t wish you were never born, and how that makes you feel,” suggested Clem. “I think he does care about you Jet.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then at least you know he does hate you, and if that’s true, you shouldn’t worry about what he thinks of you anymore, because why do you care what someone who hates you thinks about you?”

“That’s just it,” said Jet. “Hates me or not… I think he’s right about me.”

“Right about what?”

“About me not being good enough. Like you said, he was the one who actually had to go out there and almost get killed in that flood. He was the one who went out to get food while I stayed in an RV. All I ever do is… tell him he’s wrong.”

“It’s good that you do.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” stated Clem with no uncertainty. “If no ever tells someone they’re wrong, then they’ll just keep doing bad stuff, until they can do something like whip little girls, or worse, way worse…”

“Yeah, but—”

“When people aren’t afraid of doing the wrong thing, they can do anything, and that scares me,” dictated Clem. “People like you and Sarah make me feel safer, a lot safer.”

“I guess so,” said Jet as he turned away.

“I know so,” said Clem. “You just said you had to tell Sin to save us.”

“Yeah, but he was the one who actually went back out there and did it… I don’t think I could do something like that.”

“I think you could.”

“Yeah right, and I can still be an astronaut too.”

“Maybe you could.”

“Come on Clem.”

“It could happen someday a long time from now,” reasoned Clem.

“People are just going to what? Kill all the walkers, stop worrying about food, and decide to make a new space program?”

“That’s kind of what they did before,” shrugged Clem. “There were no walkers then, but there was tons of other bad stuff, and people still had to grow food, but they invented rockets and sent people into space with them.”

“Yeah, I doubt that’s going to happen a second time.”

“Why? That stuff didn’t come from nowhere, people built it, and they could do it again. If they wanted to do it now there’s even books and stuff still out there that tells them how; before that people had to figure it out the hard way.”

“I don’t know.”

“Look at what we’ve done. None of us knew how to build a farm, but we read stuff in books, and worked hard, and now we’ve got one, all in like three months. Who knows what people will be doing in like ten years, or what you’ll be doing.”

Looking at Jet, Clem could tell he was thinking hard about what she said. “The first person in space was Yuri Gagarin,” he said to himself. “I remember reading that when he was a boy, he was just living in this tiny village in the middle of nowhere, and when the second World War started, the Germans forced them out of their house, and they had to build this crappy mud hut to live in. In just fifteen years he went from living in a mud hut during a war to being the first person in history to go into space.”

Clem smiled as she heard some enthusiasm return to Jet’s voice.

“Still, I don’t know if I’d ever be brave enough to be an astronaut.”

“Fifteen years is a long time, I bet you’d be brave enough by then.”

“Where would you want to be in fifteen years?”

“Me?” asked Clem. “I guess, with Omid… and Sarah.”

“Are… are you okay?” asked Jet, suddenly sounding concerned. “I noticed you were quiet at dinner. When I saw you leaving the yard I thought something might be wrong and wanted to talk to you… and instead I just told you all about my problems.”

“It’s okay,” assured Clem. “Sarah and I had a fight last night, and I think it happened because I was jealous.”

“Jealous of who?”

“Anthony I thought, but now I think it’s just everybody,” realized Clem. “When it was just the two of us and Omid, I felt like the most special person in Sarah’s life. But now there’s lots of people here and they all know how amazing she is, it feels like she doesn’t even notice me anymore, and she’s the one person I want more than anyone to notice me.”

“Like you have a crush on her?”

“Crush?” asked a confused Clem.

“If you have a crush on someone, it means you want to be with that person because you like them, more than anyone, but they don’t even know, or it’s impossible to be together, or both…” Jet sighed. “I know how that feels.”

“You do?” asked Clementine. “Wait, do… do you like Sarah?”

“What? No. I mean, I like her, she’s great an all, but I don’t feel like that about her.”

“Who then? Wait, is it—”

“It’s not you,” hastily assured Jet. “You’re amazing and all, but you’re also ten years old, and usually people don’t crush on ten-year-olds… I wanted to tell Patty that last night but Granddad wouldn’t let me.”

“Patty,” repeated Clem. “Do… do you have a crush on her?” Clem watched as Jet turned away, blushing as he did. “She’s way older than you.”

“Yeah, I know,” sighed Jet. “And I know grown women don’t get crushes on twelve-year-old boys… and if they do that’s a bad sign. Still, she’s so cool and funny and beautiful—I don’t think she even knows how beautiful she really is.”

“She probably does,” quipped Clem. “She used to hog the bathroom every morning when we all lived in the Brave.”

“I wish I was older… and that she didn’t hate me.”

“Do you want me to talk to her for you?”

“About me having a crush on her? Don’t do that! It’s bad enough she thinks I’m a pervert. If she knew I… liked her, it’d just make things even worse.”

“I meant about last night; I’ll tell her what you told me.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“It’s the truth, and that way she’ll at least be friends with you.”

“Friends… better than her hating me,” said Jet, sounding disappointed. He leaned his head back and gazed up at the sky. “I guess we made it into space once before, maybe it could happen again in my lifetime.”

“I’d be happy just to live a lifetime.” Clem yawned and checked her watch. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, we should—whoa!” Jet stumbled onto the dirt as he tried to sit up, nearly colliding with one of the saplings.

“Are you okay?” asked Clem.

“I think I had too much to drink,” he answered as he slowly stood up.

“This is why I only had a sip this time. The last time I drank too much whiskey it was horrible,” said Clem as she stood up and dusted herself off.

“Oh man, I almost killed that tree when I fell over,” noted Jet as he looked at the leafless sapling.

“Isn’t it already dead?”

“No, actually,” said Jet as he gestured to the tiny tree. “See that, there’s a new branch growing, and there’s even a leaf on it.”

“Huh, I didn’t see that before,” said Clem as she noticed the little green stem jutting out from the top of the trunk.

“I guess you were right.”

“Me?” said Clem.

“You were the one who told me to keep watering it, at least until I was sure, now I am: it’s alive,” said Jet with a smile.

“Still, how come there aren't any leaves growing on the old branches?” asked Clem as she examined the small tree more closely.

“I don’t know. It’s probably still messed up, but it’s not dead, at least not yet. Hopefully it’ll survive long enough to grow into a big tree.”

“Hopefully.” Clem and Jet headed back to the yard. The sounds of the party had gone silent now and Clem found her eyes growing heavy as she stopped to lock the gate behind her. She parted ways with Jet, him heading for the guest house and Clem heading for the Brave. Clem figured Patty wouldn’t mind if she stayed the night and went to pull out the sofa when she noticed a light coming from the second floor of the house.

Clem let go of the sofa and instead sought out a piece of paper and a pen. Trying to commit her thoughts to words proved difficult, and she found herself constantly stuck and what to write next, but kept forcing her hand to make words anyway. Creeping back into the house, Clem was surprised to there was no else there, and she found herself tiptoeing up to an empty bedroom. Clem left the note on the pillow and prepared to leave when she heard someone coming up the stairs.

“Oh, hey,” greeted a nervous Clem as Sarah stumbled into view, an odd grin on her face as just stood there outside the door. “Are you okay? Do you need—”

“I… I… I’m not drunk,” slurred Sarah suddenly. “I… I’m just… buzzzzed… Patty explained the difference to me.”

“Yeah, she got good and buzzed.” Sarah stumbled into the room while Clem suddenly felt Patty pulling her closer. “She’s drunk,” whispered Patty.

“Yeah, I kind of thought so,” said Clem as she noticed Sarah laughing softly as she collided with the bed. “What happened?”

“Oh, we all headed over to Devlin’s so we wouldn’t wake up Omid and… I might have poured her one shot too many,” explained Patty as Sarah flopped face first onto the mattress. “Figured it best if she just went to sleep before she did anything she’d regret. Seeing as you’re up here, you think you can make sure she gets to bed in one piece?”

“Sure.”

“Good, I’ll take Omid with me back to the Brave so you two can have a little peace and quiet; Sarah will probably need it to sleep off her hangover in the morning.”

“Thanks Patty. And, thanks for letting her have her birthday. Do… do you still want to talk to her?”

“Yeah, I do.” There was an awkward pause after Patty said that. “But, we’ll do that in the morning, and, we’ll work it out one way or the other. Between Anthony and Jet, this feels like a talk that’s long overdue.”

“I talked to Jet actually,” informed Clem. “He wasn’t actually trying to watch me in the bath; he just saw my scars and stared at them by accident.”

“That just sounds like an excuse.”

“I believed him,” stated Clem as she looked Patty in the eye. “And you should too.”

Patty stared at Clem for a moment. “All right. If you believed him that’s good enough for me,” said Patty as she looked over at Sarah lying on the bed. “Still, I’m not sure about Anthony.”

“Yeah, me either, but I want Sarah to be happy.”

“I want what’s best for her.”

“And you think you know best?”

“I think I know better, at least a little about this.” Patty let out a deep sigh. “Do you know how many times I just wish someone had told me not to do this or stay away from that person? More than I care to remember. I don’t want to see you or Sarah making the same mistakes I did even if it means… Jesus, I sound just like my father.”

“Is that bad?” asked Clem.

“Probably, I never listened to him when he said stuff like that.”

“We’ll listen to you, because we know you care about us,” assured Clem. “You’re a really good friend and… I love you.”

“Whoa, what?”

“I… I love you,” repeated Clem, feeling awkward. “Is it… is it weird to say that?”

“A little,” admitted Patty. “I mean, you’re not in love with me right, you just mean—”

“Yeah,” finished Clem. “Sarah and I were talking once, and I realized there were a lot of people I cared about that I never told them I love them, and I just realized I never told you I love you.”

“Okay,” said Patty, sounding relieved. “Sorry, it’s just last time someone suddenly told me they loved me, it ended badly.”

“I remember. Your friend who said he was in love with you, and got really mad when you said you weren’t.”

“Yeah,” said Patty with a sigh.

“I don’t love you like that, but I do love you,” assured Clem as she wrapped her arms around Patty.

“I… I really appreciate that,” said Patty as she hugged Clem back. “I can’t remember the last time someone told me they loved me before that ugliness with my former friend. Probably my dad… ages ago.”

“I love you right now,” assured Clem as she squeezed Patty.

“I love you too.” Clem couldn’t stop herself from smiling when she heard that. “You and Sarah are like the sisters I never had.”

“And you’re the best… well, you’re one of best… I mean—”

“It’s fine Clem,” chuckled Patty as she let go. “I know everyone else is second place in your heart after Omid and Sarah.”

The pair were distracted by a loud thud, and turned around just in time to watch Sarah kick off her other shoe hard enough to hit the ceiling.

“Speaking of which, the sooner you get to her the better.”

“I’m going,” said Clem. “Thanks again, for everything.”

“My pleasure.”

Patty headed back outside and Clem closed the door. As she approached the bed, she watched as Sarah sat up suddenly. The note Clem had left on the pillow was stuck to her face now.

“Wuh… what’s this?” she mumbled as she grabbed hold of the paper.

“Oh, um, well it’s kind of like a birthday…” Sarah had already unfolded the note before Clem finished speaking. She looked at it, squinted, then moved it closer to her face.

“Here,” said Clem as she handed Sarah her glasses.

“Oh, right,” said Sarah as she fumbled with her own glasses. It took a few tries, but eventually she got them on and examined the paper.

“I didn’t think I’d be here when you read it. I can leave if—”

“Dear… dear Sarah,” she read, a bit of clarity returning to her voice. “I… I’m really sorry for what I said last night. You were right, I was jealous. You’re so wonderful that I don’t want to share you just because it means I get to spend less time with you, and that caused me to say a really horrible thing that hurt you. I’m really sorry and I wished I had never said it.

“I know you’re mad at me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me right now. I really miss you and want to be with you, but the most important thing to me is… that you’re happy.

“You’re a really good person, and the nicest I’ve ever met, and you deserve to be happy, and I’d do anything to make you happy, even if it means staying away, because even though I miss you, it bothers me a lot more when you’re not happy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a better present for your birthday than this. I should have gotten you a great one after the one you gave me last year, but I forgot, so I’m sorry for that too. I wrote this note to tell you that, but I also wrote it because I wanted to tell you how much I love you.

“I love you Sarah, and if I ever do anything that hurts you, you just have to tell me and I’ll do whatever you want to make it better, because I love you and would do anything for you.”

“For the best friend anyone could ever ask for, Clementine.”

Sarah set the note down and looked at Clem with a sober intensity that made Clem nervous.

“It’s… it’s stupid,” confessed Clem as she looked down at the floor. “I—”

Clem found herself nearly being yanked off the floor as Sarah hugged her.

“Thank you!” exclaimed Sarah in a jovial voice as she squeezed Clem for dear life.

“Really?” asked Clem as Sarah set her down. “You actually like it?”

“Of course, it’s so sweet,” professed Sarah.

“I got the idea from you.”

“Me?”

“Remember, after we first met, you made me that get well card?”

“Oh yeah, I remember that. I was so excited just to learn your name that I wanted to write you a letter, then I thought since you looked sad I should make you a card instead.”

“I wish I still had it.”

“What did we do with it?”

“You burned it, because you didn’t want to burn my drawings instead.”

“Oh, that’s right…” recalled Sarah as she rubbed her head. “Well, I’m definitely not burning this. It’s the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Really?” asked a pleasantly surprised Clem as she watched Sarah carefully fold the letter and place it on the dresser with care. “Even better than that necklace Anthony got you?”

“Oh, that?” giggled Sarah as she looked down at the ornate gems hanging from her neck. “I only wore it because I didn’t want to hurt Anthony’s, feelings,” she explained as she removed the necklace. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I actually thought it was kind of tacky.” Clem felt herself smirking a little as she watched Sarah drop the necklace on the dresser. “And it’s really heavy.”

“That’s why I don’t mind wearing the bracelet you gave me,” said Clem as she tugged on the elastic band around her wrist. “It weights practically nothing.”

“I can’t believe you’re still wearing that,” said Sarah as she came in close. Clem held out her hand while Sarah studied the rainbow-colored beads and little jewel heart all strung together. “Do you ever take that off?”

“Only when I take a bath or go to sleep,” said Clem with a smile.

“Like your hat,” noted Sarah.

“Actually it didn’t match my skirt, so I left it in the Brave with my hair tie.”

“Oh that’s right, you didn’t have it on at the party either.” Sarah yawned as she took off her glasses to rub her eyes. “Ugh, I’m so sleepy,” she said as she placed the glasses on the dresser.

“I’ll let you go to bed then,” said Clem as she headed for the door.

“You’re not tired?”

“I am, but I figured I’d just sleep in the Brave tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“Because… I thought you wouldn’t want me around,” admitted Clem. “It felt like you were avoiding me earlier.”

“I… I was…” admitted Sarah with a sigh. “But I don’t want to do that anymore, and… I really missed you at the party.”

“Really?” asked a surprised Clem.

“Of course I did,” professed Sarah. “I may have been mad but… I still wanted you to be there.”

“I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“It bothers me when I don’t know where you are.”

“Sorry. I just figured you’d have more fun without me. Even before we fought I felt like you were, I don’t know, tired of being around me.”

“What?” asked Sarah, sounding hurt. “Why would you ever think that?”

“When you canned all that stuff yesterday, you asked Anthony and Jet to help you, but not me.”

“I did that because I knew Sin would need Devlin’s help for the rainwater thing, so that left Anthony to carry in the jars and I knew you and Patty didn't like him so I asked Jet to help me instead.”

“Oh…” Clem stood there for a second, feeling foolish.

“Anthony’s a friend, but you’re my best friend.”

“Does… does that mean I can sleep in here with you tonight?”

“Of course.”

Clem felt a great weight being lifted off her shoulders. She locked the door and quickly got undressed as she headed over to the bed where Sarah was clumsily fumbling with her dress.

“Wow,” said Clem as Sarah tossed the dress aside. “They’re getting big.”

“Huh?” asked Sarah.

“Your arms,” said Clem as she placed a hand on Sarah’s bicep. “They look so… strong.”

“Do they?” questioned Sarah as she pivoted in place before she realized she could just move her arms into view. “I guess it’s all that carrying stuff. Dirt, water, pots, dirt… water.”

“I bet you could carry me up if you—” Clem felt her stomach drop as she was swept her off her feet. She wrapped around her arms around Sarah’s neck to keep from falling only to realize it was Sarah who had scooped her off the floor.

“I guess I can,” said Sarah with a goofy smile as she looked down at Clem.

“Yeah,” spoke a surprised Clem as she felt her heart beating faster. “Could… could you carry me over to the bed?”

“Sure.” Clem felt a giddy sensation being carried across the room in Sarah’s arms and couldn’t stop herself from erupting into giggles as she was playfully dropped onto the bed. Rolling over, she caught a glimpse of Sarah beside the bed, standing tall with the light from the lantern giving her brown skin a heavenly glow while locks of black hair danced in front of her face. Watching Sarah slide into bed next to her made Clem’s heart race, and she felt her chest tightening as Sarah inched in closer

“I missed you,” professed Clem suddenly in a quiet voice.

“I missed you too,” answered Sarah in a whisper. “Thanks for everything. The present, the food, doing all my work.”

“I don’t know how you do that every morning,” admitted Clem. “Oh, that reminds me actually, I found a caterpillar in the greenhouse.”

“Oh no,” mumbled Sarah. “Did you kill it?”

“I was going to, but it was already in a cocoon, so I left it,” reported Clem. “Should we kill it?”

“I don’t know. Butterflies are good pollinators or… something. I’ll look it up in my notes tomorrow.” Sarah sighed deeply. “It never ends. We still got so much stuff we need to preserve, and there’s more coming, and we need to keep that growing, and we’ll have to figure out how to harvest enough seeds for next year, and start a compost so we can make our own fertilizer and��”

“I’m sorry,” said Clem. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Sin was saying something a few days ago about how he wasn’t sure what kind of septic system we have in this house, and if it was a septic tank, we might have to dig it up and empty it out if it ever gets full.”

“Ugh, gross,” said Clem with a wince. “That reminds me of when we stayed in Spokeston, and there was no rain for two weeks, so we had no water we could use to flush the toilet, so we had that bucket—”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” insisted Sarah. “I don’t know whose yard we were emptying it into, but they’re never going to want to live there again after what we did to it.”

Clem laughed which caused Sarah to laugh too.

“Did… did you have a happy birthday?” asked Clem as she inched in closer.

“Oh yeah,” professed Sarah. “This has been… like… the best day of my life.”

“You mean, since the walkers came?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t remember ever feeling this good before or after things changed,” realized Sarah. “Everyone was so nice to me, and the food was incredible, and it was such a beautiful night and…” Clem noticed Sarah was tearing up while still looking overjoyed. “It… it’s actually going to work.”

“What is?”

“This—the farm. I… I didn’t know if it would, but… it looks like it’s going to, and… we can live here, and eat… and Omid can grow up, and… and… we’re gonna have more parties. Anthony’s birthday is in a week, Patty’s in June, I think Jet’s is in July, and then it’ll be your birthday again, and you’ll be eleven years old. ”

Clem curled up to Sarah and put her arm around her friend. “All thanks to you, because you’re a genius,” said Clem with a smile.

“No. I… we couldn’t have done all this without everyone’s help.”

“Yeah, that’s true… but you’re still a genius.”

“Maybe,” said Sarah with a smile. “But it’s only because you believed in me.”

“I… I love you Sarah,” Clem found herself speaking without thinking.

“I love you too Clementine.”

Clem felt her heart race as Sarah reached an arm over her and leaned in closer, prompting Clem to lean in herself. She could smell the whiskey on Sarah’s breath as their faces nearly touched, then there was a click and the room went dark. Sarah pulled her arm back and rolled over into a comfortable position, and Clem suddenly realized she had been leaning over to turn off the lantern on the dresser.

Clem lay there in the dark until her eyes adjusted to the moonlight beaming in through the windows. She found herself staring at a sleeping Sarah, breathing softly just below the covers. Clem couldn’t explain it, but she couldn’t stop looking at her, and eventually she found herself inching closer. Clem gently brushed Sarah’s hair aside to get a better look at her face, then without thinking, leaned in.

“What… what am I doing?” a panicked Clem asked herself as she stopped just short of kissing Sarah. She inched backwards but found her gaze affixed on Sarah as she did. Clem couldn’t stop staring at her, couldn’t stop thinking about her, until it finally dawned on her why. “Oh no…” Clementine was in love with Sarah.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter Special thanks to Besloth for drawing that lovely fanart. =)

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 78 - Maturity

"You ready?" asked Clementine as she adjusted her grip on Sarah.

"I… I don't know," admitted an uneasy Sarah. "I guess so."

"Okay, hold on." Clementine pushed the bike forward as Sarah began to pedal. It wasn't long before Clem could feel the bike beginning to pull away from her and before she knew it had flown right out of her grip.

"Don't let go until—"

"I already did!" Clem watched as Sarah looked back over her shoulder. "Pedal!" Clem felt a lump in her throat as the bike wobbled beneath Sarah as she tried to pedal faster.

"I… I… I'm actually doing it," realized Sarah as she found her balance. "I'm… I'm riding a bike, without training wheels!"

"You did it!" cheered an overjoyed Clem as Sarah made a u-turn and came racing back.

"I can't believe it," professed a still exhilarated Sarah as she skidded to a stop in front of Clem. "I know you said I was going to finally ride a bike today, but I didn't think it'd actually happen."

"Me neither, I thought we could just get in a little practice after lunch," admitted Clem. "Maybe you're a natural?"

"I never thought I'd like riding a bike so much," said Sarah as she turned the bike back towards the road.

"Oh, let me get my bike, we can ride together real quick." Clem hurried past the gate and around the back of the Brave. She removed her bike from the rack, which wasn't easy since it was so heavy. Rolling it forward, Clem arrived back at the gate just in time to watch Sarah take off into the distance.

"Sarah, wait! Where are you going?" Clem mounted her bike and started pedaling as fast as she could but couldn't catch him. Sarah raced into the forest surrounding the farm and Clem soon lost sight of her behind some trees as she banked around a corner with surprising speed. Clem's heart was beating against her chest now as the trees were flying by her so fast that they all melded together into a blur.

Suddenly, the woods disappeared, and Clem was sailing along a lush field that spread out into the horizon like a green sea, and just off in the distance was Sarah standing in the middle of the road.

"Hey!" called Clem as she slid her bike to a sudden stop. "Wait… wait up," pleaded Clem between breaths as she wiped the sweat off her face.

"Sorry," said Sarah as she looked back at Clem. "It's just…"

"It's just like… flying," spoke an exhausted Clem with a smile. "I know."

"I guess, but, I just realized, I haven't left the farm since we got here."

"You haven't?"

"No. Everyone else has left at some point, usually to get stuff, even Sin went with Devlin and Patty when they got the backhoe. Other than Omid, I'm the only one who's never been away from the farm," said Sarah as she stared out at the horizon. "Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Moving around, like we used to?"

"No," answered Clem bluntly. "You do?"

"I don't know, maybe a little? I mean, some of it wasn't bad."

"Like what?"

"Like going to the Space Center," reminded Sarah. "That was a lot of fun. And seeing Disney World was kind of cool, even if it was wrecked, and that time we went to a mall and played with toys and got new clothes and—"

"Those people almost stole the Brave," concluded Clem.

"Yeah…"

Clem looked around at the empty fields surrounding the lonely road they were standing on. Other than the grass swaying slightly in the wind, there was nothing to see, just untarnished earth beneath a clear blue sky. It was as if looking out on empty space itself, and the longer Clem stared at it, the more afraid she became of it, and what could fill it.

"We should head back," blurted out Clem as she turned away.

"Oh come on, I just learned how to ride," pleaded Sarah.

"It might not be safe," reasoned Clem. "And besides, you were just telling everyone at lunch how we need to start harvesting some of our crops today."

"Oh yeah, and I'm the only one who knows how to do that… sort of."

Clem looked over at Sarah and saw the weariness on her face.

"I'm sure if you do it it'll be fine," assured Clem. "You're always really careful and double check everything."

"If I'm not I'll be the one who has to figure out how to fix it later…"

Clem looked over at Sarah and could see tell she was probably tired just thinking about the pending harvest. "I'm sorry," spoke a sympathetic Clem. "But everyone's going to pitch in so you can take your birthday off tomorrow, and we'll have fresh stuff to eat, and I'll make you a really tasty dinner like we used to have when we had the garden, and—"

"And the day after that everything goes back to normal." Sarah looked over at Clem, then turned away in shame. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't complain."

"It's okay. I get tired of it too… a lot."

"I wish we had gotten more time not having to do this stuff," said Sarah. "I keep thinking back to when I stayed at Shaffer's, you know, before I met you. My dad would always tell me I should enjoy myself, and not worry about things because he would worry about stuff for both of us. For a long time, I thought he was just saying that because he thought I couldn't handle things or that I was stupid… now I think he meant it."

"Anytime I told my mom I was sick of being little she always told me I shouldn't because I'll just be sick of being grown up when I got older… I thought she was crazy." Clem turned her bike around and looked out at the thick woods that concealed their humble home from view. "Come on, they're probably all waiting on us… well, waiting on you."

Pedaling back through the woods, Clem felt a mix of relief and fatigue as she saw a familiar two-story farmhouse come into view. The chainlink fence surrounding it, the two RV's and a truck parked in the driveway, the rows upon rows of tall plants growing in the field across from them, even the three apple saplings they pedaled past all felt comforting yet constricting. She meant it when she told Sarah she hadn't missed living on the road, but for every day they spent living in this small oasis they created the rest of the world felt that much more barren, and Clem dreaded there'd be nothing left in it at all before long.

"There you are." An impatient Sin was waiting for the pair outside the gate, along with everyone else. They had all gathered outside with baskets under their arms and looked at Sarah with anticipation, almost like children waiting for their mother's permission to open their Christmas presents. The only exception was Omid, who happily strolled past the group to greet the pair personally.

"Kem-men, Sah-rah, aye-gah-dah-pree-bee!" he announced as he held up a dandelion clutched between his tiny fingers.

"I was showing him how to pick a flower while you two were gone," informed Patty before noticing Sarah's bike. "Did… did you manage without training wheels?"

"Yeah," said Sarah.

"She's a natural on a bike," added Clem.

"That's great Sarah, congrats," the forced enthusiasm in Patty's voice barely lasted through the word 'congrats'. "So…"

"Let me just grab my notes on harvesting things so I make sure I'm not doing anything wrong," said Sarah as she wheeled the bike past the gate. "Then we'll get started."

Sarah returned from the house with a binder under one arm and a step ladder under the other. Everyone instinctively followed her single file into the field like mice following the pied piper. Slowly leading Omid by the hand between two rows of corn stalks, Clem still found it hard to wrap her mind around how tall they had gotten. It seemed like only yesterday they were just struggling sprouts that came up to her ankles; now they towered over everyone and cast so much shade that it was noticeably cooler in the space between them.

Omid kept stopping to look at the plants more closely, eventually pulling free from Clementine's grip. Clem watched as a curious Omid got down on his knees to examine a large leaf hanging from a vine between two corn stalks. He babbled softly to himself as he crawled underneath it, then started giggling loudly. Carefully pulling back the leaf, Clem could see Omid slapping his hands on a small, green pumpkin nestled in the dirt.

"Come on," Clem said as she picked up Omid. "That ball isn't ripe yet."

"Buh-aye-wah-ib!" protested Omid as he was plucked from the dirt. "No!"

"Come on," said Clem as she cradled the heavy boy in her arms. "Sarah said there's plenty of stuff we can take today."

Clem carried a fussy Omid towards the edge of the field where everyone was watching Sarah inspect a corn stalk. Even with the stepladder, she could barely reach the ear of corn that had sprouted near the top. Carefully, Sarah peeled back a portion of the husk, revealing the golden kernels glittering inside. Next, she removed a pin from her pocket and punctured one, which caused a white substance to ooze out.

"Oh shit, that's bad isn't it?" asked an anxious Anthony. "It's a sign of corn herpes or some other stupid disease we've never heard of."

"No, it's good," said Sarah, the pleasant surprise in her voice easing the group's concerns. "That means it's ripe." Sarah twisted the ear off the stalk and then peeled back more of the husk. Clem shifted her grip on Omid so that he could see the little rows of bright yellow kernels nestled inside like so much treasure just waiting to be collected by his chubby hands; then Sarah took a bite out of it.

"Damn Sarah, are you really that hungry?" asked Patty. "We just ate."

"It's good, really good," she said between mouthfuls, sounding almost happy enough to cry. "Try it."

"Raw?" said Patty as Sarah passed the corn down to her.

"Yeah, just try it."

Patty shrugged, then took the corn and bit into it. "What… what the hell?"

"What's wrong with it?" Patty passed Sin the corn, who sampled it next.

"It's… it's not wrong, but…"

Clem watched as Sin's normally chiseled face started contorting into odd shapes as his mood seemed to rapidly shift between confused and pleasantly surprised. He tried to pass the corn to Jet next but Anthony intercepted it and took a bite out of it, forcing Jet to wrest it from his hands as the same strange wave of pleasant confusion seemed to infect Anthony next.

"That isn't corn," spoke a puzzled Anthony between chews. "It's really damn good, but it's not corn."

"I know, right," said Patty as Jet handed Clem the mostly eaten ear next, a certain eagerness in the way he passed it to her.

Clem bit into a small chunk of kernels the others hadn't eaten yet, and found herself finally succumbing to the baffling but not unwelcome taste everyone else was discussing. The corn was sweet, very sweet, like sugar almost, and the kernels burst into a sticky milk as Clem bit into them.

"It tastes more like creamed corn than regular corn," concluded Jet as Clem passed what remained of the ear to an eager Devlin.

"Or corn milk," added Sin. "I always thought that was just a name."

"Or candy corn," added Clem after finally swallowing her morsel.

"It certainly doesn't take like regular corn," mumbled Devlin with the same sense of conflicted wonderment as the others.

"It's regular sweet corn, it's just fresh," explained Sarah as she moved her step ladder to the next nearest stalk. "The books I read said corn is actually really, really sweet when you first pick it, and it's only after it dries out after a day or so does it become like the corn we used to buy in stores."

"So, the corn we were getting in stores all this time was stale?" asked Anthony in disbelief.

"It's not stale, it's just after you pick it, the sugar inside starts turning into starch, so it gets less sweet," explained Sarah as she pricked another ear of corn with her needle. "That's why you usually boiled it before eating it, but since this corn is so fresh, you don't even need to cook it."

"But if we just left the corn out for a while after we picked it, it'd be more like the corn we used to get in stores?" asked Jet.

"Why would you ever want that again?" asked Anthony.

"I liked the boiled starchy corn," insisted Jet.

"We could do that," assured Sarah. "We might even get to try popcorn again someday. We're gonna have to leave some of the corn to dry out and turn into hard kernels we can use for seeds next year. But if we get enough of them, we can try popping a few of them to eat."

"Migh, migh!" Clem suddenly noticed Omid was trying to grab the ear of corn Devlin was still holding. Devlin eyed the mostly empty cob in his hand and spotted a few loose kernels that hadn't been eaten. He removed a knife from his belt and carefully sliced them off before handing them to Clem. Clem fed Omid the sticky kernels and nearly lost her fingers doing so as Omid bit down the second he got a taste of the corn. He made happy noises as he chewed, signaling his approval, then looked at Clem.

"You want some more?" she asked.

"More!"

The harvest went slowly, but hardly felt like work due to the group literally getting to reap the rewards of what they sowed. Sarah led the way the entire time, examining plants, explaining how to know when they should be picked, and how much they should take, and how they should pick them. It was a little much for Clem to absorb, but seeing the baskets the others brought slowly be filled with corn, green beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, and lettuce was enough for her to hang on Sarah's every word.

They were only picking a small portion of the entire field, and Sarah advised them that the pumpkins, wheat, potatoes, carrots, and onions were still not ready to be harvested. It was actually a relief for Clem to hear that since just collecting the crops that were ready was taking a very long time. Sarah was very meticulous in their process, often stopping to request water or soil for a particular plant before resuming the harvest.

Something that eased the burden of the task at hand was Sarah saying the group could eat anything they picked, and eat they did. Devlin sliced off loose kernels for Omid while chewing on green beans he plucked right from the vines wrapped around the corn stalks. Anthony seemed almost addicted to corn now and would eat through one ear after another. Jet and Sin shaved slices off a large cucumber and passed them out like refreshingly cool chips. Patty was eating tomatoes raw off the vine, and so was Clem. Even Sarah could be seen chewing on a little lettuce in-between dispensing instructions and consulting her binder.

It was late into the afternoon when Sarah announced they had enough. Clem broke away from the group and went to remove the soiled sack covering their scarecrow's head. Sin had deduced if walkers can't sense the living through a bloodied raincoat, then covering their heads with something soaked in the same substance would effectively blindfold them. It had worked remarkably well, with Buster going silent almost immediately after being bagged and loudly moaning back to life anytime he was unmasked. Walking with the others back to the house, Clem felt secure knowing Buster's loud groans would chase away any hungry birds eying their crops.

By the time they had left the field, everyone in the group was carrying plenty of produce, both in baskets and in their stomachs. Setting out the haul on the front porch, Clem was utterly stunned at the bounty of fresh food laid out before them. They only had picked a small portion of the crops they visited, and they had only visited half their field, and now they had enough to eat for a couple of weeks, and eat well; very well.

"This is so weird…" said Anthony as he stared at the baskets.

"What is?" asked Clem.

"I see food, but I don't want to eat it," he said. "I think this is what people used to call 'full'."

"And there's still tons of it in the field," added Jet in awe.

"Literally," commented Sin.

"Aye-migh!" declared Omid as he placed his hands on the basket full of corn.

"If only Tulsa had stood long enough to see this," mused a sentimental Devlin.

"At least we lived long enough to see it," said Patty with a smile as her eyes gazed up at the cracked sign hanging over the porch. "Hallelujah, Ceres Acres has arrived."

"Not yet it hasn't," corrected Sarah as she emerged from the house with a different binder in her hands. "This is a lot right now, but it won't do us any good if it all rots before the winter; we need to preserve it."

"Now?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"None us have ever made our own canned goods before, so if we want to get it right we should start now, that way we have time to fix any mistakes we make before it's too late," explained Sarah as she thumbed through her notes.

"Well let's just not harvest anything other than what we eat," suggested Patty. "At least until we get closer to winter, then there will be less to preserve because we ate a bunch in the meantime."

"We can leave some crops out there for a while, but there are limits," said Sarah.

"Limits?" repeated Jet.

"The sugar in corn turns to starch even when it's on the stalk, just much more slowly. Eventually, it'll dry out and become stuff that's too hard to eat without grinding it up first," said Sarah as she flipped past a couple of pages. "We need to pick the beans and tomatoes soon so hopefully more will grow before the winter; cucumbers eventually turn yellow and bitter if you wait too long; the lettuce will become bitter as it gets hotter."

"God plants are fussy," griped Patty. "Every time it feels like we're getting ahead on this farming stuff we get hit with another dose of reality."

"Tell me about it. After this we gotta learn how to get enough seeds so we can try to do all this again next year," said Sarah with a weary sigh as she closed her binder. "All right; Anthony, Jet, I'll need your help today to try and preserve some of this stuff."

"Got it," said Jet.

"With pleasure," added an enthusiastic Anthony.

"We've still got a lot of daylight left," noted Sin as he turned to Devlin. "You and I could probably finish the second rainwater collector."

"Sounds good to me," said Devlin.

"We already watered everything today, so that just leaves you and me for babysitting and gopher duty," noted Patty as she looked at Clem. "I was the gopher yesterday."

"All right, I'll go get my radio," said Clem as she pried Omid away from the basket of corn.

"No! Aye-wah-da-pree-bee!" he protested as Clem handed him to Patty.

"Is it okay if I give him one of the corn to play with?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Sure. In fact, you should take a little of everything so you can practice cooking with it."

"We get to have this stuff for dinner too?" asked an excited Jet.

"For every meal," answered Sarah.

"For tomorrow, or a week, or how long exactly?" asked Patty.

"Well, probably the rest of the summer really. We probably should have spaced out when we planted the seeds so things would come in gradually, but we didn't…" said Sarah with a hint of shame. "Since we'll have a lot all at once, we're gonna have to eat as much as we can while it's still fresh and preserve whatever we can't before it spoils."

"So, just every meal basically?" asked Clem.

"Um, yeah, basically." That last bit of confirmation along with a slight smile from Sarah was enough to send everyone to work with a zeal they hadn't felt since first arriving here. Clem didn't mind 'gopher' duty since she had some freedom to move around. Basically, she was just a spare hand wherever it was needed, and she divided her time between minor chores that always needed doing or running to aid whoever called her on the radio.

She started with just fetching water from the pond and dumping it in one of the barrels close to the house. They always needed water, and not long after she started she could see Jet scooping it out of the barrel by the literal bucket load. Clem did that for a while until her arms began to hurt, then stopped long enough to check in on Patty and Omid in the Brave. Patty was entertaining the boy by stacking empty cups for him to push over, which, much to Clem's surprise, Omid would then try to stack for Patty to push over.

Before Clem could join them, she got her first call as gopher from Sin and Devlin. She headed over to the two semi-trailers which were now parked across from the short side of the field. The pair had already built a new set of barrels and pipes to store rainwater that were nearly identical to the ones set up by the barn, and Devlin had painstakingly bolted gutters across the side of each trailer.

All that remained was to create a roof to actually catch the water. Devlin had welded fence posts on the tops of the trailers and they just needed to run a tarp over them now to form a kind of tent that rain could roll down. The only trouble was to get the tarp sufficiently taut by Sin's standards, both men had to be pulling on it as hard as they could, meaning they needed someone else to tie it off. Balancing on a ladder, leaning over a gutter, and tying a knot all at the same time was tricky for Clem, but she managed to do it enough times to secure the tarp to both trailers.

After stepping off the ladder to admire the big blue tent top they had erected, Clem asked Sin if this would actually work. He said functionally it was the same as what they had done at the barn, right down to the blue tarp serving as a roof after the barn lost its own roof. Moving back around to the barrels, Clem asked if this would be enough to water the whole field, and Sin said it should. Clem then looked up, hoping to spot a sign of incoming rain, but the sky was perfectly clear.

A rumbling sound drew Clem's attention back down to the ground where she caught eye of Anthony emerging from the opposite side of one of the trailers. He was hurrying back towards the house with a couple of cases of glass jars tucked under his arms, to which Devlin informed her was actually Anthony's third time doing so today. Clem asked Devlin and Sin if they needed her for anything else, and when they said they didn't she returned to the pond to fetch more water.

Clem's arms started to ache again before long and by now she noticed the sun was setting. She returned to the Brave and, with Patty's help, started preparing the crops they picked for dinner. Shucking the corn was easy enough, and the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers all made for a nice salad again, of which Patty was all too happy to handle herself. Before Clem could start on her own dish, she got a call from Sarah. She looked forward to visiting her, but all Sarah needed was some nutmeg, something Jet arrived to retrieve shortly after Clem confirmed they had some in the Brave.

With Patty hard at work mixing the salad and Omid loudly exclaiming his love for the already perfectly edible corn, that just left Clem to prepare the green beans. Removing the actual beans from the pods was tedious and time-consuming. Clem eventually resorted to cutting them in half with scissors then peeling the skins off. Throwing them all into a pot, Clem realized the only beans she cooked were ones from cans, which she usually just added spices to as a way to offset the bland flavor.

She did use to make simple stews back in Spokeston, but they had carrots and onions then, which weren't ready yet, leaving Clem only with her spices, except for the nutmeg. No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to make anything other than watery green beans with seasonings floating around. Most of the canned beans she used already had some kind of broth or gravy with them, and the ones that didn't they just ate without cooking into anything.

Clem alternated between digging through the Brave's overstuffed closet for anything to add to the soup and standing idly in front of a hot stove trying to think of anything else she could do to improve the dish. She repeated this pattern for so long that she was actually surprised when Patty informed her it was dark out now. Looking down at the watery concoction, Clem sighed and turned off the burner. Patty carefully placed the salad bowl and a couple of bottles of dressing in the basket with the corn while Clem strained her already sore arms toting her pot of bean soup outside.

Omid followed the pair across the yard to the big picnic table being illuminated by a couple of electric lanterns. Walking up to it, Clem discovered the table was covered with dozens upon dozens of jars that left her almost no room to place her pot. Past the table was a trail of discarded cartons, cornless cobs, and empty buckets leading over to a couple of grills where everyone else was already standing.

"Oh, hi Clem!" said Sarah as she turned away from the grill. Her glasses were missing and she had a messy apron on along with a couple of stained oven mitts. Standing beside her was Anthony and Jet wearing similar attire, and next to them Devlin and Sin, who just seemed to be awing at the filthy pressure cookers resting on the grills.

"Here, you gotta try this." Sarah picked up an open jar half-filled with a red substance and thrust it towards Clem. "Try it."

"What is it?" asked Clem as she eyed the concoction.

"Jam," answered Jet.

"A damn good jam," added Devlin.

Clem dabbed her finger in the sticky red substance and tasted it, and then had to resist the urge to eat her own finger.

"Oh my God…"

"Oh, let me try," insisted Patty as she inched in to sample the jam.

"You made this?" asked Clem in disbelief. "From what?"

"Tomatoes, sugar, lemon juice, a bit salt and a hint of nutmeg," listed Anthony.

"And pressure cookers," added a weary Jet as he threw off his apron.

"I was just going to can the tomatoes, but then I remembered what Winnie said about pepper jam, and one of the jars came with a recipe for that and… I thought why not make jam instead?"

"Migh! Migh!" Patty lifted Omid up, who immediately plunged his hand into the jar. He pulled out a large dollop of jam and stuffed it into his mouth. "More!" sputtered Omid before trying to grab more jam.

"I think that's enough for now," chuckled Patty as she set Omid down.

"No, it's okay, we got a lot," said Sarah as she tossed off her oven mitts and headed over to the table.

"These are all jam?" asked Clem as she eyed the dozens of jars.

"No, these are all jams." Sarah gestured to a couple of rows. "These are just regular canned tomatoes; I wanted to make a few to be sure they were okay. These are canned green beans, lettuce, cucumbers, corn."

"You canned all of that stuff?" asked Clem in disbelief. "And how did you can corn?"

"Ugh, that was a pain in the ass," said Anthony as he picked up a couple of cobs and tossed them in a bucket. "We had to slice off the kernels in big strips, every single one of them."

"It was almost as bad as the pickles," added Jet.

"You made pickles?" asked a surprised Clem.

"Just a few jars. We didn't have any dill, but we had the chives we planted and some other stuff, so we decided to try it out." Pulling a jar out of the stack, Clem was surprised to see it stuffed with slices of cucumbers floating in a briny looking substance. "It's gotta set overnight before we can try it, so I don't know how it tastes. We're supposed to let the jam set too but… we couldn't resist."

"I didn't know you could can lettuce," said Patty as she eyed a jar stuffed with a green leafy substance.

"It takes a lot of lettuce to fill a single jar," said Sarah as she untied her apron. "But I think almost anything can be… canned."

"Pree-bee!" Turning to Omid, Clem spotted him hurrying towards a clothesline where ears of corn and green beans were hanging.

"What are those?" asked Patty as she followed after Omid.

"That's our attempt at drying stuff," informed Jet.

"I get the corn, but what did you do to the green beans?"

Moving in for a closer look herself, Clem could see dozens of green beans had been stuck together with a single string running through the center of them. They twirled in place slightly with the breeze, almost like they were an elaborate wind chime that made no noise. "What… what is this?" Clem finally asked out loud.

"Leather britches," answered Sarah.

"Leather britches?" repeated Clem.

"You run a string through a bunch of greens beans, then you hang them up for a few weeks and let them dry," explained Sarah.

"And… that preserves them?" asked Clem.

"Hopefully," said Sarah. "It's a lot easier to do that than canning them."

"You just thread a needle through them and that's it," said Jet. "Sort of like making garland for Christmas."

"Cept I'd rather have popcorn than green beans," groused Anthony.

"If the corn we hung up to dry works out, we might actually have popcorn again," said Sarah with a smile.

"Migh!" giggled Omid as he swung his hands up at the dangling row of beans. His fingers managed to tap the bottom and sent them all spinning in place like a top, prompting Omid to giggle even louder.

"This is amazing Sarah," complimented Patty.

"Yeah, it really is," said Clem as she looked out at everything Sarah had accomplished. "I can't believe you did all this in one afternoon."

"Too bad we can't just have this stuff for dinner." Clem couldn't help feeling a little wounded upon hearing Patty say that. "But I guess we need to save it for the winter."

"Actually," said Sin as he set down one of the pressure cookers. "Sarah and I were discussing the need to test her canning techniques."

"I think I did it right, but the best way to know is just for everyone to take some jars with them," said Sarah. "Everyone can eat some of it over the next few days, and then another jar like a month later or so to make sure they were preserved right. Just make sure to sniff them after you open them; if they smell bad don't eat them."

"This day just keeps getting better and better," said Patty as she immediately pocked one of the jars of jam.

"Oh, you guys made us a salad," said Sarah as she noticed the bowl.

"Yeah, I figured it was a hit when you and I made one last time so why not make another?" said Patty with a smirk.

"Pree-bee!" said Omid as he picked up an ear of corn from the basket and offered it to Sarah.

"Clem, what'd you make?" Before Clem could answer Sarah took the lid off the pot.

"It's… green bean soup," said Clem without much enthusiasm.

"You took the beans out of the pods?" noted Sarah.

"Yeah… was I not supposed to?"

"Well, you can, it's just you don't need to."

"I… didn't know that."

"Really?" asked a surprised Anthony. "That's how they always show them on the packing for canned green beans, with the skins on."

"I… guess I haven't eaten green beans in a while."

"It's all right Clem," assured Devlin with a smile. "I prefer string beans with the skins off."

"Thanks," said Clem as she managed to crack a little smile of her own. "It was a real pain peeling the skins off."

"You didn't string them?"

"String them?"

Devlin looked over at the beans hanging from the clothesline. "Those going to be okay if I took one off from the bottom?"

"Go ahead," insisted Anthony. "We're gonna have millions of them by the end of the summer."

Clem followed Devlin as he headed over to the nearest set of green beans. "All right, you see this little tail part?" Devlin gestured to the pointed end of the pod.

"Yeah."

"You just pinch this, give it a little force to crack it, and…" Clem watched in disbelief as pulling on the tail also peeled away a thin green strip that ran across the length of the bean. "It's sort of like peeling a banana, except then you gotta pinch the other end, and peel it back the other way." Devlin tugged on the other end and continued to peel away the strip until it made a complete circle around the entire pod. "And that's why they're called string beans."

"I thought they were called green beans," said Clem.

"Either one, my momma always called them string beans," said Devlin as he handed Clem the 'string' before easily removing a few loose beans from the pod he 'strung'.

"I wish I knew that before," said Clem as she looked at the string.

"It's fine," said Devlin as he chewed a couple of beans. "Hell, I shouldn't be spoiling my appetite like this, you made us a soup and everything."

"Let's eat already," suggested Anthony. "Running a farm is hungry work."

Everyone sat down and dug into the small feast that had been prepared. The salad, the fresh corn, and what remained of the open jam were all practically devoured by the hungry group. The only thing people weren't scarfing down had been the 'soup' Clementine prepared. Almost everyone had taken a couple of spoonfuls, then just stopped eating it, except Anthony, who didn't want any, and Omid, who refused to eat it no matter how much Clem tried to convince him otherwise. The exception was Devlin, who couldn't seem to get enough of it, but then Clem had just seen him eat raw green beans.

Her soup aside, everything was delicious, arguably the best meal Clem had eaten in a long time, and yet she found it hard to enjoy herself. Everyone was talking to Sarah, thanking her for what she had done, asking what she wanted to do for her birthday tomorrow. She seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden swell of attention, but mostly she appeared flattered and even a little excited by the outpouring of gratitude.

Clem was glad to see Sarah smiling so much, but what she really wanted was just to talk her friend. She kept trying to, but couldn't seem to get a word in edgewise over the others, and the one time she did, Omid managed to spill salad dressing all over himself. Clem hurried him up to the bathroom and scrubbed the boy until he stopped smelling like ranch. Clem needed a bath herself but had to find someone to watch Omid first.

Heading back outside, she was a little relieved actually to see the meal was over now and everyone was just helping to clean up. Sarah had already passed out a couple of jars of preserves to everyone and just had gotten back from storing the rest in the kitchen. She came over to Clem and tickled Omid in a way that made them both laugh. Clem looked forward to finally spending some time alone with Sarah, and that's when Patty proposed an improv celebration.

Before Clem knew it, everyone had gathered in the living room and a small party had broken out. Sarah put on music, Patty fetched beer, and Jet stopped her from wasting their only fire extinguishers on cooling said beer. Everyone was enjoying themselves, and even Sin found some amusement in Omid's reactions to him speaking Thai. All Clem wanted was just to sneak off to get a bath, but apparently Sarah had the same idea because the bathroom was locked and Clem couldn't find her anywhere downstairs.

What she did eventually find was Patty coddling a sleepy Omid in her lap. Clem was happy to take him to upstairs, and the relative quiet of Omid's bedroom gave her a much-needed respite from the noisy party. Tucking Omid in, giving him his stuffed elephant, turning on his baby monitor were all strangely cathartic for Clem, and she almost didn't want to go back downstairs. Heading out into the hall, Clem noticed the bathroom door was open now. She grabbed a change of clothes, hurried inside, and quickly discovered there was no water left.

Frustrated, Clem tossed her clean clothes aside and grabbed an empty bucket. She headed out past the party and into the dark where she managed to gather about half a bucket's worth of water from the nearly empty barrel she spent so much of the day filling. Clem toted the bucket back upstairs, her already sore arms begging for relief by the time she reached the top step. Finally making it back to the bathroom, a weary Clem tossed off her dirty clothes, grabbed a rag, and climbed into the tub.

A rag bath with water she strained through some cheesecloth was a poor substitute for the Brave's semi-functional shower, but it hadn't rained in a while and they already had used up the water in the Brave's tank. Still, Clem did find some comfort in scrubbing off the layer of dirt that seems to come with every day of living on a farm. She was finally starting to relax a little after such a long day, then she noticed a pair of eyes staring at her from the door.

"Hey!" Clem ducked into the tub just as she heard the bathroom door slam shut. Peeking up past the edge, she saw the door was closed now. Clem quickly grabbed a towel, hurried over to lock it and then got dressed as fast as she possibly could, a sickly feeling settling in her stomach as she did. Heading back downstairs, Clem discovered the music had stopped and everyone was gathered in a circle around a very guilty looking Jet.

"What'd he do?" Sin immediately asked Clem.

"He… he was watching me take a bath," said Clem, hardly able to believe her own words.

"What?" asked Sarah in disbelief.

"You little fucker," swore Patty as she glared at Jet. "She's ten!"

"Wait, hold on," said Anthony. "How the hell did Jet get in the bathroom if you were already there?"

"The door was unlocked, it was an accident," insisted Jet as he tried not to cry. "I didn't mean to."

"Is that true?" Patty asked Clem.

"I… I might have forgotten to lock the door, I don't know," mumbled Clem as she tried to remember.

"So he walked in on her by accident, case closed," concluded Anthony.

"But he… he was staring at me, I saw it!" accused Clem as she glared at a quivering Jet. "And you didn't stop until I saw you."

"I wasn't—"

"You apologize to Clementine!" ordered an infuriated Sin. "Right now!"

"I'm sorry," cried Jet. "But—"

"Don't make excuses!" dictated Sin as he slapped the back of Jet's head.

"Hey!" Devlin grabbed Sin by the wrist.

"Unhand me!"

"Only if you tell me that hand isn't hitting that kid again."

"I barely touched him," insisted Sin as he pulled his hand free. "And how is that the issue after what he did?"

"You don't answer one wrong with another."

Jet suddenly took off running. Everyone listened as they heard him rush upstairs, dash across the hall, and slam his door closed behind him.

"That a regular thing?" asked Devlin.

"Him locking himself in his room? It's not uncommon," answered Sin.

"I wasn't asking about him."

Sin scowled at Devlin in response. "Not that it's any of your business, but Jet's never done anything like this before, at least, not that I know of."

"And smacking him is only reserved for this kind of thing?" Sin's scowl deepened before he pushed past Devlin and out the door.

"Well, I guess the party is over." Devlin sighed and looked over at the others. "If any of you need me, you know where to find me." Clem watched as Devlin headed for the back door.

"I can't believe Sin hit him," said Sarah in a whisper.

"I saw it; it was hardly a tap," dismissed Patty as she looked at Sarah. "Jet peeping on Clem is what you should be worried about."

"Oh good, another thing to worry about." Sarah yawned. "I'm gonna go to bed; it's been a long day."

"Tomorrow won't be, not for you," assured Clem as she followed after Sarah. "You're not gonna have to work on your birthday."

"Happy?" Clem just barely heard Anthony say in the distance.

"About what?" retorted Patty in a harsh tone as Clem turned around.

"About making the kid public enemy number one?"

"He gets caught perving on a ten-year-old girl and naturally you take his side," accused Patty.

"Nobody else is," shrugged Anthony.

"Because what he did was wrong; really wrong," dictated Clem as she moved back over to the pair. "But I guess you don't think so."

"I just think your roommate walking in on you by accident doesn't make him a sex offender," rambled Anthony half-heartedly as he headed for the door. "But you two have made it clear before what I think doesn't matter."

Clem scowled as Anthony stepped outside.

"Man that guy pisses me off," groused Patty.

"Yeah, me too," added Clem. "It's like anytime something happens to us, he always tries to make it sound like it's our fault."

"He was like that constantly when the two of us used to go out looking for food. Anything ever went slightly wrong, and he'd always make it sound like it was my fault, then he'd tell me he was joking, that's when he wasn't hitting on me, then say he was joking about that! But he never actually stopped until that night you and I told him off, although I guess he didn't stop then either, least not entirely." Patty looked over at Clem, her scowl disappearing as soon as they made eye contact. "Are you all right? Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"I… think I'm okay," said Clem. "It's not like I got hurt, but…"

"You feel violated, and by someone you thought you could trust."

"Yeah…" conceded a weary Clem. "I thought Jet was my friend."

"Yeah, sadly, you never really know what goes through someone else's head. I've seen people go to pretty crazy lengths to make you think they're your buddy just because they wanted something off you."

"Yeah, me too…" Clem took a deep breath. "Does… does this mean Jet was just pretending to be friends with me because… because he wanted to see me naked?"

"I doubt that Clem. He was probably just being stupid, and needed a stern reminder not to be," said Patty in a harsh tone as she removed her cigarettes from her jacket. "But like I said, you never really know what's going through a person's head, and something like this always leaves you wondering." Patty pulled a cigarette from her pack and popped it in her mouth. "Anything else like that happens you just come get me, okay?"

"I will." Patty gave Clem a reassuring nod, then headed out of the house, leaving Clem alone in the living room. She headed upstairs and couldn't help eying Jet's door with suspicion as she walked past it. Walking into her own bedroom, she found an already half-undressed Sarah lying on the bed, staring at her diary.

"I thought you were going to bed," said Clem.

"I was, but then I realized I hadn't worked on my diary today, but it's so late, and I don't know…" rambled Sarah in a tired voice.

"You don't have to write in it," suggested Clem as she slipped off her hat and tossed it on the dresser.

"I know that, and it's weird writing down everything that's happened to us, especially when so much of it was bad," said Sarah as she sat up.

"Then why do you keep writing it?"

Sarah's eyes drifted towards the baby monitor. "I figure one day Omid will be old enough to want to know this stuff; know about his mom, and why we're living on this farm, and who these other people are, and how we met them, and this diary can tell him all that."

"We could always tell him that stuff ourselves someday."

"I know, but the longer I wait, the harder it gets to remember everything. I start mixing up details or forgetting things and…" Sarah looked down at the pages. "I don't want to forget anything about all the people who helped us before, and everything they did for us. Writing it down in a journal isn't much, but…"

"I'm sure they'd be happy knowing that you're thinking of them," assured Clem as she kicked off her pants. "Do you mind if I read it?"

"Go ahead," said Sarah as she slipped off the bed. "I can't write without my glasses anyway, and I left those in the bathroom."

"You should get dressed; Jet might still be up," warned a bitter Clem.

"I've got a shirt on," reminded Sarah as she headed for the door.

"He might try to pull it up."

"He wouldn't do that."

"I didn't think he'd watch me take a bath, but—"

"I really don't think you and Patty were being fair to him," said Sarah as she turned around.

"Fair to him?" repeated an indignant Clem. "What about me?"

"I really think it was an accident, like he said. Sin even said he's never done anything like that before, and—"

"He was staring at me, I saw it," insisted Clem. "And I've known people who never did anything really terrible, until they just did one day."

"I don't think Jet is like that," insisted Sarah. "He was crying just now."

"He could have been faking it," suggested Clem. "You never really know what goes through another person's head."

"So… I could be faking being friends with you then," concluded Sarah. "And I'm really just someone horrible who's really good at hiding it."

"What? No, of course not. I know you."

"Do you? You just said you never know," repeated Sarah.

"That's different, I…" Clem took a breath. "Just forget it, okay, it's late."

"All right." Sarah stepped outside and Clem just stretched out on the bed, glad yet another long day was finally over. Picking up the diary, she flipped through the pages, her eyes falling on the familiar names of Nick, Carlos, Walter, Pete, Matthew, and Christa. Skimming through the book, Clem found herself recalling their night at the ranger station, the week they spent imprisoned at Shaffer's, the long and miserable journey to Saint Christopher's, and Omid's birth.

Looking at the last few pages, Clem found herself reading out loud. "Even though it was only a week, it had felt like we had been trapped at Shaffer's for years, and now that we finally escaped, we suddenly realized we had no idea where to go next.

"Racking my tired mind for some sort of answer, I suddenly found myself envisioning us, all of us, living out on some sort of farm, far away from Shaffer's and all the terrible people who would hurt us, where we could grow our own food, and Omid could grow up, and we could just live together, and be happy, and it all felt like a dream, but I could see it, and so I said Oklahoma… maybe it was Kansas."

Turning the page, Clem saw the rest of the journal was blank. She set it on the nightstand, then realized Sarah still wasn't back, and the bathroom was just next door. Clem was about to step out into the hall when Sarah suddenly emerged in the door frame.

"Whoa!" said a surprised Sarah.

"There you are," said Clem. "What took you so long?"

"Oh, I forgot, I actually took off my glasses when we were canning because the pressure cookers were steaming them up, not when I was taking a bath, so I had to run outside real quick and find them."

"You should have come gotten me, I would have helped you find them."

"Oh I found them right away, but Anthony was taking out some garbage at the same time and I stopped to talk to him for a minute."

"You… you let Anthony see you in your underwear?" asked Clem, concern seeping into her voice.

"What? No, I… I had my shirt on."

"And no pants."

"It's no different than when he saw me in a swimsuit."

"He couldn't see your underwear when you were in a swimsuit."

"He didn't see them a minute ago."

"I can see your underwear right now." Sarah started tugging her shirt down in embarrassment after hearing that. "What did you talk about?"

"What?"

"What did you talk about with Anthony?" repeated Clem.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Sarah in a defensive tone.

"Because, Anthony acted like Jet watching me in the bath was no big deal, and he was always hitting on Patty even though she told him to stop, and now stopped to talk to you when you weren't even dressed and—"

"I stopped to say hi to him, he didn't stop me," corrected Sarah. "And all he said was the jam I made was the best he ever had and wished me an early happy birthday, that's it," reported Sarah with a groan. "It's… it's like I can't even speak to him without you getting mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you; I'm worried about you," insisted Clem.

"I don't think you are," accused Sarah.

"What? Of course I am. What else could I be?"

"I… I think you're just jealous someone other than you really likes me."

"You mean like how Mick liked you?" Clem immediately regretted saying that. She watched as the stunned expression on Sarah's face quickly twisted to one of anger. "Sarah, I'm—" Sarah marched over to the dresser and hurriedly put her pants on. "You.. you don't need to get dressed now, we're going to—" Clem watched in disbelief as Sarah stomped out of the bedroom. "Sarah, wait! Where are you going?"

Clem hurried after Sarah, only to remember she wasn't dressed either as she passed the threshold. She rushed back inside and cursed herself as her pant legs bunched up from trying to get dressed so fast. Clem zipped up her fly as she stumbled out of the bedroom. Hurrying down the stairs, Clem found the front door was wide open, and rushing outside, Clem finally caught sight of Sarah entering Anthony's camper.

"Sarah, wait!" Clem watched as the door to the camper slammed shut behind her. "Sarah!" repeated Clem as she rushed over to Anthony's camper. "Sarah I'm sorry, just come to bed." Clem tried opening the door but it was locked. She hurried over to the left front tire of Anthony's truck and found the key box hidden there, but there was no actual key inside.

"Dammit," swore Clem as she put the box back. "Sarah!" called Clem even louder as she returned to the camper door. "I said I'm sorry, just talk to me." Clem tried fruitlessly to open the door again, then pounded her fist against it. "Come on, you can't stay in there all night." Clem waited for a response, but received only silence. "Seriously, you'll have to come out sooner or later." Still no answer. "Just say something!" demanded Clem as she angrily banged her fist against the door. "Just… just talk to me… please." Clem's pleas were met with only more silence.

Eventually, after several awkward minutes of silence, Clem started back towards the house. She walked away slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sarah covertly exiting Anthony's camper; no such luck. After that, Clem moved back upstairs, hoping to hear Sarah coming up behind her; she didn't. Finally, Clem got into bed and turned off the light, praying Sarah would be along any moment and everything would be as it always was; she fell asleep waiting for her.

Previous Chapter - First Chapter - Next Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 77 - Force

Clementine awoke to a couple of dull thuds in the distance. Sitting up, she could see it was morning now but wasn't sure if it was really early or just cloudy out. There were another couple of thuds which she almost thought were thunder. She could see through the window it was raining, but a couple of louder thuds sounded without a hint of lightning as she stared out at the gentle summer shower. Clem was about to get out of bed when there was another thud followed by a violent cracking as the bedroom door was knocked off its hinges.

"Finally," said Corporal Cruz as she raised her rifle. "I finally found you."

"No!" There a deafening bang and then nothing as Clem felt herself clawing helplessly at the suffocating darkness.

"Clementine!" Hearing her name called, Clem stopped panicking long enough to realize what she had been clawing at was just a blanket. Pulling it off, she found their dimly lit bedroom as it should be and Sarah sitting in bed beside her. "Are you okay?" asked Sarah, her sleepy face racked with concern. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Clem hurried to the bedroom door. It was still on its hinges, and peeking out into the hall she didn't any signs of an intruder. With panic coursing through her veins, Clem pushed the door shut, locked it, the hurried back into bed and immediately wrapped her arms around Sarah. Even with Sarah returning the embrace, Clem couldn't quite stop herself from crying onto her friend's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah as she ran her hand up and down Clem's back.

"I… I… had a really bad dream," Clem blurted out between sobs.

"About what?" asked Sarah, sounding unsettled herself. "About that… person, we found?"

Clem paused as she thought about how to answer Sarah. "Yes," she said. "I'm… I'm really worried about what's going to happen."

"Me too."

The pair remained in each's other arms as the sound of a light rain gradually eased Clementine's frayed nerves. Neither girl felt like going back to bed, so instead they got dressed and prepared to do their morning routines. First they checked on Omid, who Clem was happy to see was still sound asleep. Whereas the rest of group had been nervous, he had remained blissfully unaware of the implications of the intruder they had taken captive; Clem only hoped it would stay that way.

As Omid didn't need tending to at the moment, Sarah led Clem out of his bedroom and onto their next task; checking slug traps. It actually felt strange putting on a raincoat not covered in dried blood for once, but it felt even stranger looking at a bowl covered in fat little lumps of slimy flesh. Much to Clem's surprise, and horror, Sarah said there were usually a lot more slugs when it rained.

Clem felt a chill running up her spine just watching Sarah touch the bowl, even with gloves on. The black and green lumps seemed completely unaware of their fate as Sarah brought them back to the porch and dumped them into a bucket filled with soapy water. Having to pry the last few stuck to the bowl and toss them in, Clem could tell Sarah hated doing this. But not because she hated touching the slugs; she hated killing them.

But kill them they did as Clem helped, much to her repulsion, to clean out the traps and drown the slugs in a bubbly grave. Moving across the center of the field, Clem heard Buster, their scarecrow, start moaning at her. Looking at him, she noticed its new taped stumps where its shins used to be. Anthony had cut them off yesterday after he said Buster lunged at him, and he wasn't waiting for the collar to snap before taking action.

Listening to the Buster's snarling, Clem found herself having second thoughts about using a walker to keep crows away. Birds were avoiding all but the edges of the pasture now, and Clem didn't blame them as watering the field yesterday meant having to endure the constant moaning of their scarecrow as it struggled in vain endlessly against its chain. Seeing the indomitable corpse crawl forward on its stumps as best it could, Clem just did her best to ignore it.

Finishing with the slugs, Clem helped Sarah gather a few tomatoes and cucumbers for their captive. It was a difficult process, trying to pick which of their still ripening produce to feed to someone they didn't even want to feed. Because Sarah said eating their crops before they're fully grown would be a waste, the group hadn't even tasted them since Patty prepared them a salad a couple of days ago. And yet here they were picking a few now so the intruder won't know they have a semi-trailer full of canned goods as well.

Returning to the house, Omid was awake, along with Jet. Before long, the rest of the group was filing inside while Clem made them a simple breakfast of oatmeal and honey. After everyone ate, Clem prepared the produce they picked along with some leafs of lettuce Sarah clipped to make another salad for the intruder. Grabbing a fork and bringing it into the living room, she saw everyone looking at her, or more specifically, the bowl she was holding.

"We spent months busting our ass just to feed someone who steals from us and tries to kill me," griped Patty as she crossed her arms.

"So you keep reminding us," retorted Devlin in a sharp tone. "And if you don't keep quiet about it I'll bring Sin with me to feed the kid instead."

"You assume I don't share Patty's outlook on the situation," said Sin. "What are you expecting him to tell us if we keep feeding him?"

"If I knew that we wouldn't need to keep feeding him," answered Devlin.

"Why don't we try not feeding him, see if he talks then?" suggested Patty.

"We can't just starve him," argued Jet.

"And starving him won't get him to talk," argued Devlin.

"If we starved him for a while, then offered him food, I bet he'd talk then," asserted Patty. "That's how Valkaria worked. The asshole running things got people to do what she wanted by dangling fresh fish and oranges in front of anyone who was hungry."

"Shaffer's did that too," added Sarah with a hint of shame. "They'd starve you; then they'd get you to do whatever they want by offering you food."

"Yeah, they did stuff like that in Houston too. They fed whoever they considered important more food," said Jet as he looked at his grandfather. "So we're gonna be like them now and just starve people?"

"This isn't the same," argued Sin. "This person trespassed on our home, took our food, and nearly killed one of us."

"What if he hadn't?" asked Jet. "I bet you'd be saying the same thing right now anyway."

"Enough already," insisted Devlin. "We went through all this last night."

"And lunch yesterday," added Clem. "And breakfast."

"That's because we have a problem and we're no closer to a solution," said Sin. "What we're doing isn't working."

"It's been two days," argued Jet. "Less really since we found him in the evening; it's been closer to thirty-six hours. Maybe we give him—"

"How long?" asked Sin. "A week? A month? A year of feeding someone who's just waiting for a chance to strike?"

"The end of the day," answered Devlin. "I'll bring Patty with me for breakfast. Maybe seeing the person he shot will guilt trip him enough to tell us something. For lunch, I figured Sarah could explain to him just how much work growing the stuff he was taking really was. And if he still doesn't talk, Clem, maybe you can come with me to try and get him to talk for dinner."

"Why me?" asked Clem.

"It sounds like you've had some… experience, with being in bad places," noted Devlin in a grim tone. "If you're willing, maybe opening up to him about that might help him understand why we're holding him."

"I guess I could do that," said Clem.

"You still assume he is holding his tongue because he's afraid of us." Sin looked at Clem. "He told her to pretend she never saw him while aiming a gun at her. Does that sound like someone who's just afraid?"

"Yes," answered Jet bluntly.

"It's worrying, but we know almost nothing about him," stated Devlin. "For now, our best chance of changing that is making him comfortable enough he feels like talking to us. And while we're doing that, maybe Jet can figure out what his journal says."

"He spent all day yesterday on it and made no progress," stated Sin.

"I spent most of yesterday in the field," corrected an annoyed Jet. "It's raining today, so I've got time to figure it out now."

"Keep at it, until then we'll keep playing nice." Devlin picked up the salad and fork, then gave Patty a look.

"Fine," she sighed. "I'll be 'nice', since how we treat the guy who shot me is so damn important."

"This isn't about how we treat him, it's about getting him to tell us something," reminded Devlin. "I want him to see you today because if he meant it when he said he was sorry for what he did, then he should want to make it right, which I'll stress he can do by telling us a little about himself."

"And if he doesn't want to make it right?" challenged Sin.

Devlin took a breath. "Then we'll need to change tactics, but not until tomorrow." Devlin looked over at Patty, and the pair headed for the door. Patty grabbed an umbrella and they stepped outside.

"I'll be working on the pipes for our next rainwater collector in the Sunseeker," mumbled Sin as he headed for the door. "One of us needs to be preparing for the future, assuming we still have one."

As Sin left the house, Clem headed over to the window. She watched as Devlin and Patty approached the shed. Devlin adjusted the gun on his hip, then started undoing the padlock.

"Should I have just shot him?" Clem looked over her shoulder to find Jet standing behind her. "If… if I had shot him, we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

"I thought you don't want to hurt him," said Sarah as she approached Jet.

"I don't but…" Jet looked out the window, then looked away. "What if they're right, and this guy is a spy or something? What if we're gonna have to kill him?"

"We don't know that," said Sarah.

"And if you shot him… you'd spend the rest of your life wondering if you should have or not," said Clem, her voice trembling.

"Yeah, you… you always wonder if you did the right thing or not," added Sarah as she squeezed Clem's hand for comfort. The pair turned away from Jet and looked at Omid, who was happily licking flecks of oatmeal off his sticky fingers.

"Killing someone… that's something you can never take back." Clem walked with Sarah to Omid's high chair. "So you should never feel bad just because you didn't kill someone."

"I understand that," said Jet as Clem scooped Omid into her arms. "I just hope whoever these people this guy are with understand that too."

The sound of the doorknob turning got everyone's attention. The trio watched as Patty and Devlin reentered the house. The look on their faces made it clear they had no success, as was the fact they returned so quickly, but Clem felt compelled to speak anyway.

"He didn't say anything?" she asked.

"Not a damn thing," griped Patty.

"He won't even eat in front of us now," said Devlin, sounding tired. "We just had to leave the salad on the floor for him and lock the shed behind us."

"Ugh, I'm gonna enjoy the fact we've got some rain and jerk… take a shower," griped Patty as she marched outside. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the Brave."

"I can't really work on Sin's next project in the rain, so do you kids need anything?" Clem looked at Sarah, who looked at Jet, who just shook his head. "All right, and we don't need to water anything this morning either. If anything changes, just come get me in the guest house." Devlin left the trio alone, who just looked at each other in confusion for a moment.

"I… I should really work on figuring out his notebook while we've got a break," concluded Jet. "Maybe it'll tell us who he is and why he's here."

"I hope so," said Clem.

"Me too." Jet sighed, then headed for the stairs.

"So, what do we do?" asked Sarah.

"Ree-ree," demanded Omid as he tugged on Clem's collar.

"I guess that answers that."

Clem took Omid back to his room to read him a book. She had made sure to expand their library of children's books before leaving Tulsa, but Omid always picked from a few books he had already seen before. For today, he once again chose 'The Magic School Bus Explores the Solar System'. Clem recited the words without even looking at them, having long since memorized the entire book from reading it so many times. Omid predictably clapped and laughed in excitement every time she turned the page, and when the book was finished he started chanting 'ah-gee'.

After reading it twice more, Clem decided to bring Omid with her as she headed out into the greenhouse, hoping Omid would enjoy being outside long enough for Clem to check in on Sarah. Sarah was hovering over a couple of potted sprouts, explaining to Clem how she was going to use them for gathering seeds later while Omid discovered new ways of getting filthy by playing in the dirt.

Looking at the binders and dirt-stained sheets of paper with scribbled notes sprawled out over the tables, Clem felt guilty she couldn't help Sarah more with the greenhouse. And looking up at the crude patches of plastic taped over the tent's holes, Clem hated to think what would happen if they were struck by another tornado. Looking through the canopy, she was relieved to see there was almost no wind blowing through the trees as it rained this time.

After struggling to give Omid a bath while he constantly tried to escape the tub, Clem was pleasantly surprised she managed to get him down for a nap with relatively little effort. After turning on his baby monitor, Clem went to check on Sarah again and found she had finished everything she needed to do in the greenhouse today, leaving the pair with nothing they needed to do for once. After some minor deliberation, they decided sitting down and playing a game of chess like they used to would be nice.

Setting up the pieces, Clem realized they hadn't played together since Omid's birthday. It was relaxing being able to just play a game with her best friend again, especially since Clem had improved enough since learning how to play to avoid being quickly trounced. She knew Sarah's opening moves all too well to fall for any of her tricks and had spent enough time studying Sarah's later strategies to not leave herself open to easy attacks.

Despite feeling more confident in herself, it was hard for Clem to enjoy the game. With each move, it always felt like one girl was waiting for another to make conversation, and neither ever did. Sin was right about their problem being no closer to a solution. Every time Clem waited for Sarah to make a move, her thoughts drifted back to the intruder in the shed, and Clem suspected Sarah was doing the same when waiting on her.

Grabbing one of her pawns, Clem thought about moving into the open to hopefully ensnare Sarah's bishop. Sarah usually didn't pass up a chance to take a pawn, and Clem had a knight waiting to strike if she did. Clem pushed the piece forward, ready to sacrifice it for a chance to claim Sarah's bishop, but hesitated to lift her hand. Looking at the tiny piece and remembering how many times Sarah found ways to use pawns to beat her, Clem moved it back to its original position and considered a different strategy.

The pair heard a door close and looked up to see Jet coming down the stairs. He looked over and was surprised both of them were staring at him. "I… I deciphered the journal."

"You did?" said Clem.

"What did it say?" asked an eager Sarah.

"Not much really," said Jet with a shrug.

"But it must have said something," said Clem.

"Why don't you get the others, that way I can tell everyone," said Jet. "Besides, it'll be lunch before long anyway."

"It will?" Sarah checked her watch. "It's already half past eleven."

"I didn't know we had been playing that long."

"I'll go get Devlin," volunteered Jet.

"I'll get the others," offered Clem. "Sarah, can you check on Omid?"

"Sure."

The trio separated and Clem grabbed a raincoat before heading out into the driveway. It was barely raining anymore and it was only a short trip to tell Patty and Sin what was happening. Heading for Anthony's truck, it only now dawned on Clem that she hadn't actually see him at breakfast this morning, which was odd since he was usually the first one to show up to any meal.

After receiving no response from knocking on the camper door, Clem moved the front of the vehicle to retrieve the keys. Devlin insisted everyone knew where all the vehicles' keys were in case they ever had to leave in an emergency, and so it was agreed the keys would be kept in magnetic boxes hidden near the left front tires. Heading back to the camper, Clem was about to unlock the door when it swung open, revealing Anthony standing in the door.

"What… what the hell are you doing with those?" asked Anthony through his respirator as he pointed at the keys.

"I got worried when you didn't answer the door," answered Clem.

"Well, I'm all right, so do you mind if I have those back?" Handing the keys over, Clem noticed Anthony was wearing long rubber gloves.

"Why are you wearing those, and that?"

"Me? I was just cleaning my gun," said Anthony as he pulled his mask off. "I don't have good ventilation in here so those chemicals were starting to get to me."

"Have you been doing that all morning?" asked Clem.

"Have I?" Anthony checked his watched. "Dammit, why didn't you guys get me for breakfast?"

"Because you never miss a meal," reminded Clem as Anthony tossed off his gloves.

"Yeah, well, I guess this business with our new guest has been putting me off my appetite," said Anthony as he tossed his respirator aside and clipped a sheathed knife to his belt. "So is lunch ready at least?"

"Actually, I'm here to let you know Jet figured out that guy's notebook." Anthony spun around upon hearing that. "He said there wasn't much, but that we should all look at it."

Anthony followed Clem back into the house without further coaxing. Heading into the living room, everyone was gathered around a pair of notebooks laid open on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Like I said, it's not much," said Jet.

"It's nothing," dismissed Sin.

"What's nothing?" asked Anthony.

"The notebook," said Patty as she looked up. "Jet translated it and it's just the same few words repeated on different pages."

"That and numbers in the corners that I couldn't figure out," added Jet. "They're not in order, so they're not page numbers, and they don't look like dates either."

"They're likely code for wherever this kid has been," said Devlin. "The military makes specialized maps that troops can use to find certain locations with just short sequences of numbers. Keeps things nice and covert."

"Shit, does this mean the kid could be working for the military?" asked Anthony. "Or whatever's left of it?"

"Typically, military maps have four digit numbers at the shortest; all the ones in this book are two-digit," said Devlin. "Also, I've never seen these symbols the words are written in either."

"I haven't either, but they were all just substitutions for letters," explained Jet. "I figured it out by starting with the vowels and just kind of guessing."

"The military likely would use something harder to crack," said Devlin. "But then again, it's obvious the chain of command has long since broken down. Who's to say what's left of the armed forces would do at this point?"

"I was thinking, considering everything that's happened, we should use the word Ceres instead of Owens for our code word," suggested Jet, sounding nervous as he spoke. "We'd use the same system, but we'd just mark the letters as if we spelled Owens instead. Like underlining the 'R' in Ceres would be where the 'E' is in Owens, and we'd know to go east, but no one else would."

"That's good thinking. Everyone understand that?" Devlin looked around as everyone nodded in response. "It's agreed then… hopefully we won't need it."

"I understand it's the same amount of letters as Owens," said Sin. "But why exactly did you pick the word Ceres?"

"Because, that's the name of our farm; Ceres Acres."

"It is?" asked Anthony.

"Yeah, you all know that, right?" The group gave Jet a look that made it clear they hadn't heard that name before. "Great, why'd even bother making that sign?"

"I knew," said Clem.

"I know you did."

"What about the photo Clem took?" asked Patty. "Did you translate what it said?"

"It said danger," said Jet. "And there was the number twenty next to it."

"Danger?" repeated Anthony. "From what?"

"I don't know, that's all I could see in the photo."

"It was written on a road, so it might be a warning for others," stated Devlin as he picked up the journal. "And this is clearly a log, probably so if the kid doesn't come back and they find his body later, they got at least a partial record of what went wrong."

"They?" asked a nervous Clem.

"It's clear he's a scout," announced Sin.

"Biters, scraps, and literally the word null, over and over again is what he wrote," added Patty. "He's clearly looking for something."

"Did… did he write any other words?" asked a nervous Clem.

"A few. Here, you can read it if you want," said Jet as he handed Clem a journal. "I made sure to write everything down in a separate notebook, so he wouldn't know we translated it."

Clem started thumbing through the journal, looking for jackpot, near mint, dash, and clean. Much to her relief, she didn't see any of those words, but she did find it disturbing how often the word 'biters' and 'null' appeared on the pages. The last page with writing on it read 'THERE IS FUCKING NOTHING'.

"Here wrote this?" asked Clem as she showed the page to Jet.

"I think so," said Jet.

"You think?"

"The handwriting on the last page was really hard to read. I had to guess a little with the letters, but I don't know what else it could have said."

"So we're right back to square one," concluded Patty. "He's working with some group of people and he was hungry. That's it."

"We might know one other thing," said Jet. "Written in the same letters on the inside of the notebook's cover was another word that I think is 'Pedro'. That might be his name."

"Oh, great, that does us a lot of good," said Anthony.

"We know something else," said Devlin as he examined the original notebook. "Whoever he's with, they're organized. I doubt Pedro here picked the route he's taken if he's writing things like 'there's fucking nothing' in his log. Someone else probably picked the locations he was going to, which is what the numbers represent, which would mean they'll have known where he's gone, which could mean if he never comes back, they may come looking for him."

There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone digested what Devlin said. Clem looked around the room at the others, who just appeared to be looking at each other for answers that no one had. The first voice to break the silence was Omid's, who light crying crackled from the baby monitor set on the table.

"I'll go take care of him," said Sarah as she grabbed the baby monitor and hurried upstairs.

"I know some of you don't want to hear this, but we're gonna have kill this guy in the end," announced Anthony.

"We don't know that," insisted Jet.

"He wrote scraps right? He's scouting for food, and he's part of group of people who are probably as hungry as he was," listed Anthony. "What do you think is going to happen if he gets back and tells his group he found a whole farm guarded by a few people, a couple of kids, and a baby?"

"We don't know his group would attack us," said Jet.

"Don't we?" retorted Sin. "You and I saw it in Houston more times than we care to remember. The military hoarded everything and gave the rest of the city mere scraps to live on."

"Same goes for Miami," added Patty.

"Why would these people be any different?"

"Because they're not the military, or they would have just rolled in here and taken our farm already," stated Jet. "Not send out someone who doesn't look much older than me to find stuff on their own."

"That's how OKC operated," spoke a bitter Devlin. "They didn't bother with scouts, they just rolled their whole caravan up to the edge of Tulsa."

"This group is probably just people like us who want to survive, but not at any cost," suggested Jet.

"Or they might pretend to be just long enough to get a chance to stab us in the back," suggested Anthony. "That's how people in Gulf Port operated, they pretended to be your friends until you weren't useful to them anymore, then they'd kill ya."

"The tactics differ, but we've all seen that resources are scarce enough now that people will kill each other just for something to eat." Sin turned to Devlin. "Even when you offered to share with Oklahoma City, they still attacked you. Surely you can't think letting this boy go is safe?"

"I'm not sure what to think," said Devlin as he stood up. "Clem, how about you and I go ahead and talk to him, before lunch? See if we can stress the importance of establishing a dialogue now instead of later."

"Okay." Clem stood up and followed Devlin over to the window.

"We're all hungry and looking for food these days, but if… son of a bitch!" Clem watched in disbelief as Devlin pulled the window open and clambered out through it. As Devlin rushed across the yard, Clem could see the intruder squeezing past a partially opened shed door.

"Shit!" Clem rushed over to the closet under the stairs.

"What's happening?" asked a panicked Jet.

"He's escaping!" Clem threw the closet open and found a pistol, shotgun and hand grenade all inside. She hopped up and grabbed the pistol and its magazine off the top shelf while Patty grabbed the shotgun resting in the bottom half of the closest. While Patty grabbed a fistful of shells, Clem raced outside just in time to see Devlin tackle the intruder. He tried crawling out from under the man while Clem loaded the gun, cocked it, switched the safety off, and aimed into the air.

A single warning shot was enough to freeze the intruder in place as Devlin placed his knee into his back. Patty came racing over, cocking her shotgun as she ran, and everyone else came rushing up behind her. While they all gathered around the recently recaptured intruder, Clem moved over to the shed to examine it more closely.

The lock was still on the door, and instead the door had been partially opened from the other side. Kneeling down, Clem could see the hinge on the bottom of the door had been crudely bent and pried free from the frame, allowing the door to be pushed open slightly on the bottom. Pulling on the door and peering inside, Clem could see an empty bowl and a severely bent fork resting on the ground.

"Little bastard." Clem turned around to find Patty looking over her shoulder. She scowled, then headed towards where Devlin was still holding the intruder in place. "That must have been a challenge," announced Patty in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Angling that fork through the crack in the door to bust the hinge. Did you refuse to eat in front of us this morning just so we'd leave it with your damn salad?" accused Patty as she cocked her shotgun, expending an unused shotgun shell.

"Where are we going to put him now?" asked Jet.

"The storm shelter," announced Devlin.

"There's no lock on the outside," reminded Sin. "And he could lock us out of it if we put him in there."

"And then a storm could hit and we'd be screwed," added Anthony.

"Can't lock anything with your hands tied," insisted Devlin as he held the intruder in place on the wet dirt. "Anthony, get me some rope."

"Clem!" Clem spun around to find Sarah rushing over. "What happened?"

"That guy got out the shed, but Devlin caught him," informed Clem.

"I heard a shot," said Sarah.

"That was me. It was just a warning shot."

"So, what's happening now?"

"Now… we're putting him in the shelter." Clem watched as Devlin tied the intruder's hands behind his back. Moving alongside him, Clem felt sick as she watched his scared face flinching as Devlin pulled the knot taut. She could almost feel the fibers of the rope digging into her own wrists and found herself nervously tugging on her own bracelet.

The group gathered around as Devlin forced the intruder to the edge of the storm shelter's hatch. He turned around and looked at Devlin, possibly for mercy, but Devlin offered none. Instead, the intruder turned back to the dark hole in the ground and sat down on the edge, struggling to do so while his hands were bound behind his back. He sat there for a second, then finally scooched past the edge. He hadn't even hit the floor when Devlin slammed the hatch shut.

"I told you keeping him here was stupid," said Sin as the group walked back towards the guest house.

"It was the best option at the time," argued Devlin as they crossed onto the porch and out of the rain.

"But not anymore."

Devlin stared at Sin for a few seconds before answering. "No," admitted Devlin. "This isn't sustainable. We need to make a decision, today."

"What do you mean a decision?" asked Sarah.

"You know what he means," said Anthony.

"We don't have to go as far as killing him," argued Patty, sounding conflicted. "If we just… punish him first, then—"

"We're not doing that," dictated Devlin.

"You're really going argue about how it's not right to cause him any pain after what he's pulled?" asked Patty.

"It ain't about what's right, it's about what works and what doesn't. Roughing the kid up but then letting him go is a half-measure; he stills go back to his people, and with an additional reason to attack us."

"So we just let him go, and that's it?" asked an aggravated Sin.

"That… or we kill him," stated Devlin. "Anything else is no good."

"That's not true," argued Jet. "You said in Tulsa you would punish people and only killed the worst ones. We—"

"I said there were people we didn't feel right letting loose," corrected Devlin. "Back then, when we had a whole town worth of people, that was only the worst of the worst. But here, just the few of us, I'm not sure we can risk letting some kid loose if he's out scouting for a bigger group."

"We have to," insisted Sarah. "We can't just kill someone because we're afraid of what he might do."

"What he might do?" repeated Patty. "You forget the part where he shot me!"

"Forget? I'm the one who sewed up your leg!" barked Sarah.

"Do you want him bringing back a bunch of people and have him shoot the rest of us?" accused Patty.

"Do you want to shoot a scared boy in the head just because you're more scared!" retorted an angry Sarah.

"I want to talk him!" announced Clementine in the sternest voice she could muster. "Then we can make a decision."

Devlin sighed. "I doubt he's got anything to say but we might as well try, maybe he'll realize we're running out of patience. I'll go in first and—"

"I want to talk him, alone," informed Clem.

"What? No," dictated Sarah.

"We only see him in pairs, in case he tries something or—"

"And he's never said anything," reminded Clem.

"And you think talking to him alone will change that?" asked Patty.

"I'm the youngest one here, after Omid. And like Devlin said… I've got experience with what he's going through," reminded Clem, trying to sound confident. "Maybe if I just go by myself, he won't be so afraid and finally say something."

"Or maybe he'll see an opportunity in taking the youngest of us hostage," suggested Sin.

"He's tied up," reminded Jet.

"He was locked up until just a few minutes ago," retorted Sin.

"Clem has a gun and—"

"I'm not taking a gun," announced Clem.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Clem, that's suicidal," said Patty with concern instead of anger now.

"Everyone who sees me with a gun always thinks it's wrong. Like the people I'm with are bad, or I must be bad for having it or… seeing someone has a gun has never made me feel more like talking to them."

"Really?" asked Anthony. "Not even in New Orleans?"

"No," retorted Clem in a harsh tone. "Them holding guns to our heads just made it harder to talk… I could barely think."

"Me either," said Patty in a whisper.

"I want to talk him, alone, without a gun."

"Clem—"

"I want to do this Devlin."

Devlin just stared at Clem for a second. "Actually, I was going to say if you go down there alone, it's better if you don't have a gun. If he were to get loose and get it away from you, he could use it against the rest of us."

"Oh…"

Devlin looked conflicted as he rubbed the back of his head. "I—"

"That's two reasons I shouldn't have a gun then," concluded Clem.

"And another reason you shouldn't go," said Sarah. "It's not safe, we—"

"We can either kill or let him go," stated Clem as she looked over at Devlin. "Right?"

"We clearly can't keep him locked up at this rate, and anything else at this point would be a half-measure," he repeated.

"That's a big decision, so we need to do everything we can to make sure we make the right one," concluded Clem.

"But why you?" asked Sarah. "I'm young too, I've been through… some of the same stuff you have."

"I… I'll go," volunteered Jet, his voice cracking. "I—"

"I want to go," asserted Clem. "Do you?"

Jet didn't answer Clem, choosing to look away instead.

"You want to do this?" asked Sarah in disbelief.

"Yeah, I do…" repeated Clem.

"But… why?"

"I… I just feel like this is something I should do," insisted Clem. "If he's a scout for bad people then we know what'll happen. But if he's not, and we kill him… then we killed someone just because we were scared and… that's wrong, really wrong."

"You know he still might not talk?" said Devlin. "It's possible we're gonna have to decide this based just on what little we already know."

"I still say he'd talk if you let me rough him up a little," insisted Anthony.

"You beat someone hard enough and they'll eventually talk, they'll tell you whatever you want to hear," said Devlin. "But it doesn't mean a lick of it will be true. He'll just make up whatever he thinks will make you stop beating his ass."

"If he can even thinking of anything that'll make it stop…" said Clem as she found herself instinctively reaching for her back.

"And if he's smart, he could use that to talk us into delivering ourselves into some kind of trap, and would feel justified in doing so," added Devlin.

"We're not getting anywhere talking about this," realized Clem. "I'm going."

"What makes you think he'd tell you the truth anyway?" asked Sin. "He might think because you're young he could lie to you."

"I'll be ready for that if he does," asserted Clem.

"Will you?" asked Sin.

"Granddad," scolded Jet.

"We still don't know if he will even talk to Clem, so there's not much point in arguing about it," shrugged Patty. "And I doubt he'd feel more like talking if we're all in the same room as him."

"At least then, the rest of us would hear the conversation," said Sin.

"There's not going to be a conversation if we all go," reminded Jet.

"What if you took this?" Sarah unclipped the baby monitor from her belt. "The one for Omid doesn't have a speaker in it, so it wouldn't make any noise, and then the rest of us would hear what's happening in case… in case anything went wrong."

"We'd be spying on him," realized Jet.

"He spied on us first," noted Anthony.

"That might be for the best. More ears means more of a chance one of us could hear something the others missed," said Devlin. "We can probably clip the monitor to the back of Clem's belt and hide it behind her shirt and jacket." Devlin looked directly at Clem. "Assuming, you're okay with this."

"I… I think that's probably a good idea."

Sarah hurried back to the house and everyone waited impatiently until she returned, carrying a couple of baby monitors along with Omid in one of her arms. Clem handed over the pistol she had taken while Patty clipped Omid's baby monitor to her back and tucked it under her clothes. A quick check revealed even when someone was speaking in front of her, their voice was mostly clear on the receiving monitor. With everything seemingly ready, Clem moved towards the storm hatch.

"Wait," said Sarah as she stepped in front of Clem, a blissfully ignorant Omid giggling in her arms. "I… Clem…"

"I love you Sarah," announced Clem.

"I… I love you too," the pair embraced and kissed each other's cheeks.

"I love you too Omid."

"Muh-boo!" cheered Omid before giggling as Clem kissed his cheek.

"The rest of us can hold up in my living room," said Devlin as Clem let go of Sarah. "There's a window in there that overlooks the storm hatch, so if something happens we can be outside in seconds."

"Got it," said Clem.

"Here," said Jet as he handed Clem a lantern. "I remember it being dark down there, so you'll probably need this."

"Thanks," said Clem as she switched the lantern on.

"Try to get him to tell you his name," suggested Devlin.

"Why?" asked Clem.

"If he says Pedro, we know he's probably telling the truth about at least one thing; if he doesn't, then we know he's probably lying about at least one thing," he explained. "It's not much to go on, but it's better than nothing. Either way, don't actually say that name, or anything else they would tip him off about cracking his log's code."

"Anything else?" asked Clem.

"Just… try to make him think you're his friend. He's already afraid of us and hasn't said a thing. If he thinks he can trust you, he might start talking. And be careful what you tell him. If we do let him go, anything you tell him might be something he ends up telling his people, so think about what you want to say before you say it."

"I will."

Devlin led Clem back to the storm shelter. He pulled the door open and briefly stuck his head inside. "He's sitting in the far right corner," whispered Devlin as he turned to Clem. "I wouldn't get too close to him, just in case."

"I won't." Clem took a deep breath, then headed over to the hatch. She looked over her shoulder to see everyone looking at her in anticipation from the porch, except Omid, who was just smiling. Clem took a breath, then climbed down the ladder, the hatch slamming closed behind her. Even with the lantern in hand, the darkness felt suffocating. Swinging the light around, Clem nearly gasped as she suddenly saw the frightened eyes of the intruder staring at her from the far corner of the shelter.

"Um… hi," said Clem, struggling to think of something else to say. "I… I'm Clementine," she introduced. "And… I just want to talk, okay?" Clem could practically feel the baby monitor poking her in the back as she said that, but she did her best to keep a straight face. There was no response from the intruder, prompting Clem to take a few steps closer to him. "Look, I know you're afraid of us right now. I… I would be too right now.

"We're all afraid. We're afraid, if we let you go, you'll come back with a lot more people and attack us." Clem studied the intruder's face carefully for any changes, but he just looked like he was trying to hide how frightened he felt. "I… I had a nightmare this morning, about someone breaking into our bedroom and shooting me. And right now, I'm worried the people you're helping would do that to all of us. To me, and my best friend, and to our little baby."

Clem could see the intruder's eyes widening upon hearing the word baby. "His name is Omid. He was the baby of a man and a woman who used to take care of me. His father died before he was even born, and his mom… she got bitten by a walker a couple hours after, and me and my best friend have been taking care of him ever since… he had his first birthday just a couple of months ago."

Clem could tell from the intruder's intense stare he was at least listening to her, but she still had trouble reading his reactions beyond that. "I'm sorry for locking you up, and… I'm sorry we tied you up. I… I know what both those things are like. You're scared, and feel sick, because you know you're helpless, and you have no control over what happens next. I… I don't blame you for trying to escape, I would have too… I have."

Still no response from the intruder beyond him carefully observing Clem as she sat down in front of him. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone; none of my friends do. But we have to know you don't want to hurt us too. What happened in the field a few days ago…" Clem noticed the intruder's eyes looking away from her now, possibly from guilt.

"I want to believe that was just an accident that happened because you were scared. I… I know what's that's like too, being out on your own, all alone, and… suddenly you see you're not alone and your terrified of what'll happen next and you think if don't do something… you'll die." Clem felt her nails digging into her palms as she tried to stop her hands from shaking.

"Please, just… tell me something; something so I know you're only being quiet to protect your group, and not because you're waiting until they get here, or anything like that." The intruder merely turned away from Clem slowly, as if to signal he didn't wish to be defiant. "My friends didn't want me to come in here alone, they're afraid you'd hurt me, but I don't think you would. I could tell you didn't want to shoot me in the field and, this will sound strange, but I was locked in a shed by strange people once myself."

This seemed to catch the intruder's interest as he turned his head to face Clem again. Slowly, she rolled up her sleeve and revealed the large scar running across her forearm. "I got bitten by this stray dog while out in the woods one day. The man taking care of me, Omid's father, carried me back to the cabin we were staying in, and then we saw someone talking to Omid's mom. He watched them talk through the scope of his rifle, and someone watching us saw that and thought the worse so… they shot Omid's dad, then locked me in a shed because they thought I had been bitten by a walker."

Clem pulled her sleeve down and took a deep breath. "The weirdest part is… we helped each other after that. Not that Omid's mom wanted to, or me either at first, but these people weren't bad people, we were all just scared, but we took some chances with trusting each other anyway, and… I'd do anything to have them back right now."

Clem looked up to see the intruder appeared wide-eyed with interest again. "Maybe you think because of how we met, we'd never forgive you, or that you'll never forgive us for locking you up, but you'd be surprised. The one person from that group who is still alive is my best friend now. I love her, and I wouldn't have her now if I didn't talk to her dad, who was the one who locked me in a shed on a cold night." Clem looked at the intruder directly in the eyes, expecting him to say something; he remained silent.

"Look, just, tell me anything," pleaded Clem. "It doesn't have to be where you're from, or who you were with, or why, just… say anything, anything so that I know that you care enough that you don't want anyone else to have to get hurt." No response. "Just… just tell me your name. Okay? That's not anything important, not anymore, and then I know you at least want to talk to us, even if you feel like you can't." Clem looked into the intruder's quivering eyes, expecting him to speak any second, but instead he turned away again. "Forget it." Clem grabbed the lantern and headed for the ladder.

"Pedro!" Clem heard a young voice yell out as she placed her foot on the ladder. "My name is Pedro, okay?" Clem turned around and moved back towards Pedro, studying him carefully. He was doing his best to put on a brave face, but Clem could still see hints of fear in the corner of his eyes as she drew nearer.

"Why haven't you said anything until now?" Pedro didn't answer Clem. "If you're just going to be quiet again—"

"You people have a biter chained up in your field," stated Pedro. "Why?"

"It's just to keep the birds away," explained Clem.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Have you ever had a farm?"

"No, but—"

"Then you don't know what it's like having to work hard every day from sun-up to sundown just to see a bunch of stupid birds eat everything," ranted Clem. "We put up wind chimes, we chase them off when we see them, one of us even just started shooting them one afternoon, but there were always more and we only had so many bullets. So, after we noticed animals don't go near walkers, we found one, cut off his hands, then put a helmet on it so it doesn't bite people."

"I did see that," said Pedro. "But I figured that was just so it didn't kill any of you, and that you probably take the helmet off when you're not around, like a guard dog or something."

"No, it's so it doesn't bite anyone," assured Clem.

"Not even the birds?"

"It's not worth the risk of it biting one of us. We talked about knocking out its teeth, but we thought it was too risky, getting that close to a walker's teeth just to scare off crows, so we used the helmet instead."

"If you killed me, how would you do it?"

Clem found herself disturbed by that question. "We wouldn't—"

"Isn't that why you're down here right now?" said Pedro, more accusing than asking. "You're trying to figure out if you're going to kill me or not, because you think I'm dangerous."

Clem sighed. "We wouldn't let a walker eat anyone."

"Then what?"

"I… I guess we'd shoot someone in the head if we had to kill them," confessed Clem, grimacing as those words moved past her lips.

"Is… is that what you did to the last person who came here?"

"You're the first person we've seen since we've moved here."

"Then where did that bloodstain in the shed come from?"

"I told you, it was from a deer."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"So, I'll be the first person you've shot in the head here." Clem racked her mind for a rebuttal, but nothing came to mind. "I… I guess at least it's not painful," Pedro said, his frightened tone betraying his attempt to sound brave.

"It's still wrong, really wrong," insisted Clem as she sat down in front of Pedro. "I've seen people shot in the head, more than once… I don't want to ever see it again."

"If you really feel that way, then just let me go," pleaded Pedro.

"My friends are still worried you're going to hurt us… so am I."

"Nothing I tell you will change that," insisted Pedro.

"How do you know until you start telling us?" challenged Clem. "What if you told us your people wouldn't hurt us?"

"Then you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me," said Clem as she crossed her arms. "I've had a lot of people lie to me before, so I've had a lot of practice with figuring out when they're trying to trick me or not."

"What?" asked Pedro in disbelief. "You're like… what, eleven?"

"Ten," corrected Clem in a harsh voice. "And I was nine before that, and eight before that, and the whole time since this started I've had people lying to me because they think I'm just a stupid kid they could trick. If you really don't want to hurt us, then look me in the eye and tell me that if we let you go, no one will come back and hurt us afterwards."

Pedro looked directly at Clem and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped before making a sound, turning away once again instead.

"You can't say it because it's not true," concluded a dismayed Clem.

"It's not that," insisted Pedro. "If I start telling you things about what the people I'm with will and won't do, and I keep talking, and then you start figuring out stuff about them I didn't mean to tell you, then you might find out where they are, and… you're not the only one here worried about being hurt."

"They told you all that, didn't they? That if you ever got caught, just to say nothing?" Pedro didn't answer. "So that's a yes then."

"They told me not to believe anything I heard and just try to get back," stated Pedro. "They also told me to make sure no one follows me, which means I've got to take a really long, convoluted way back home, just in case any of your people try to, assuming you even let me go."

Pedro let out a long sigh. "I'm going to die."

"We—"

"If your friends don't kill me, then something else will on the way back, assuming I don't just starve to death," rambled Pedro, whatever little resolve he had been keeping in his voice melting away now. "Even before I came here I figured I'd be dead within a couple of years, no matter what happens."

"Yeah, I know that feeling," admitted Clem. "That's why Sarah wanted to start this farm, so we could hopefully start growing our own food, and live a long life."

"Who's Sarah?"

"My best friend."

"Is she that girl with the glasses?"

"Yeah."

"She was the one who told the others not to kill me," noted Pedro.

"She's the nicest person I've ever met," said Clem.

"But she doesn't get to decide what happens to me," concluded Pedro.

"We all decide, together."

"Really?" scoffed Pedro.

"Yes."

"Really?" repeated Pedro, genuinely asking. "Even though you're… ten?"

Clem nodded. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," answered Pedro. "Those people really listen to you, and her?"

"Most of the time. We always kind of have to prove to people we can take care of ourselves first, but everyone here listens to us. Like I said, my friends didn't even want me to come down here, but they listened when I said I wanted to."

"That must be nice," mused Pedro.

"Nobody listens to you?"

"Never. I didn't even want to do this."

"Do what?" Pedro didn't answer Clem. "Okay, what—"

"Looking for food. I told them I shouldn't do this, but they said we're running out and everyone has to pitch in and that they'd send me somewhere mostly safe, somewhere where they already checked the bigger towns nearby."

"Did one of your people write those messages in the road I took a picture of?" Pedro didn't answer. "They… we figured they were probably a warning or something, but—"

"I don't know who made those. I mean, it was probably one of our people, but I don't know where they go, I've never done any of this stuff until now, so I don't know. All I know is… there isn't any food left anywhere."

"Is that why you were taking stuff out of our field?" asked Clem.

"I was starving, and I saw your field, and I figured if I just take some and leave, that might be enough to get me back home, enough where I don't pass out from hunger on the way."

"Does that mean you were going back to tell your people about our farm?" Pedro didn't answer Clem, but he looked nervous upon her asking that. "I mean, if you were looking for food for them, and—"

"I can just not tell them about this place, I'll say there was nothing here, okay?" offered Pedro in a hasty fashion. "I never wanted to do this anyway. I just want to go home, okay?"

"Okay." Clem swallowed hard as she thought about what she was going to say next. "What happens after that?"

"Huh?"

"Would someone else come here next?"

"I said I wouldn't tell them about this place."

"But if they're looking for food, doesn't that mean they send someone else out to look for food next?"

"Um, I don't know, probably," shrugged Pedro.

"So, so they'd send some else here and—"

"I'll tell them I checked the lake in the area and there was nothing, okay?" insisted an increasingly desperate sounding Pedro. "They… they wouldn't send someone to check somewhere they already know is empty."

"Aren't they already doing that?" asked Clem. "I mean, that warning I took a picture of, it's not far from here, so that means—"

"I don't know, okay!" insisted Pedro. "I don't make decisions like that, they don't even listen to me most of the time."

"If they knew there was a farm, I mean, even if you didn't tell them, but they still found out somehow, what would they do?" Pedro suddenly became silent again. "They'd attack us, wouldn't they?"

"We don't want to start anything, they even told me to avoid people if I ever saw anyone… I should have listened to them," lamented Pedro. "But they don't want to attack anyone, we're just looking for food."

"Which we have," reminded Clem.

"I knew it. I knew you wouldn't believe me no matter what I said," lamented Pedro as he turned away from Clem, sounding like he was trying not to cry.

"I believe you, it's just—"

"You don't," insisted Pedro. "You might as well kill me right now."

"We're not going to kill you," insisted Clem.

"You already said if you did, you'd shoot me in the head," reminded Pedro. "You might as well just do it already."

Clem tried to think of something else to say. Pedro was clearly upset now and she didn't see a way through this conversational impasse. She believed him when he said his people didn't want trouble, but couldn't be sure trouble wouldn't follow anyway. Clem didn't want to hurt anyone either, but if she needed food, or if Omid needed food, she couldn't be sure of what she would do, especially if she knew there was somewhere out there with food left.

"Wait a minute…" Clem turned back to Pedro. "What if I told you there was a way we could help your people?"

"I'd be suspicious, really suspicious" answered Pedro bluntly.

"Yeah, I would too," confessed Clem. "We needed a lot of food to start our farm, but the place we took it from had more left, a lot more."

"And where's that?" asked Pedro.

"In… I'm not going to tell you right now."

"Why not?"

"Because, then you'd have no reason not to attack us," said Clem.

"I told you—"

"I know what you said, but I don't know the people you're with, or what they would do," stated Clem. "So, if we let you go, and nothing happens to us, then maybe you could come back later, and we could tell you then, after we know we can trust you."

"That's it?" asked Pedro.

"You expect more?" asked Clem with a hint of resentment. "You stole from us, and shot my friend, and—"

"Yeah, I know, I just mean… I barely made it this far. I don't even know if I could make it out here again, alive anyway. I mean, my gun was fully loaded when I left."

"Walkers?"

"You mean biters?" Clem nodded. "God I… I wasted most of my bullets just trying to shoot one in the head before it got to me. I can promise you I won't tell my people I was ever here but… I don't know if I could get back here by myself again even if I tried."

Clem thought to herself for a moment, and a new idea formed in her head. "What if I give you something else? Something other than food?"

"Like what?"

"Like how to get past the walkers."

"What do you mean?"

Clem took a breath and thought carefully about what she'd say next. "There's… ways to get past them."

"Like what?"

"If… if you cover yourselves in their blood and guts, they don't notice you and you can just walk past them."

"No way," dismissed Pedro.

"It's true."

"If that's true, then why do you need a mask on that biter in your field?"

"It's smell awful. We put their blood on raincoats, and we still have to wear masks over our faces so we can stand it. Also, it's not foolproof. Rain can wash away the walker stuff, then they notice you again. They also notice you if you make a lot of noise, or if you are bleeding, they smell that. Well, they probably don't actually smell at all, but they know when you're bleeding somehow."

"But they don't know you're there if you're not bleeding and are covered in their… blood and guts?" Clem nodded. "That… doesn't make any sense."

"To be honest, we really don't know how it works, but trust me, it does," assured Clem. "It's a big reason we've made it this far."

"This sounds like you're trying to trick me," accused Pedro. "I cover myself in that stuff and then it turns out they attack me faster, or I get sick and turn into one of them."

"The only way you can turn into a walker is if they bite you, or you die some other way that doesn't mess up your head, then you come back as one anyways."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because before we used raincoats I had to just rub that stuff all over my clothes," recounted Clem with a shiver. "It's gross, and made my skin crawl, and once I even tasted it by accident and threw up. Someone I know also cut his hand on a machete that had a walker's blood on it, but we're still here."

"None of this makes any sense," said Pedro as he shook his head.

"I know it doesn't, nothing about the walkers really does," admitted Clem with a shrug. "But that's what happens. One of us even wrote it all down in a guide."

"A guide?"

"Yeah, he called it the Outbreak Survival Guide," recalled Clem.

"Why did he make a guide?" asked Pedro.

"We realized a lot of stuff we knew most people probably didn't, so he wrote it down and left some copies in a place we visited so it would hopefully help whoever found it. We… we could give you one, and you can take that back to your people. It's not just the trick for getting walkers to ignore you, we wrote down all kinds of stuff that helps us deal with them."

"And, you'd give us this guide?" asked Pedro.

"That's why we made it, to help other people. And, if that works, maybe you could come back later, and we could talk more about your people then, maybe tell them where to find more food if they still need it after that."

"That… that sounds good," realized Pedro. "If this trick you're telling me about actually works, that'd make a huge difference for us."

"It does, and we wrote down a lot of other stuff that would help," said Clem as she stood up.

"So, this means you're going to let me go, right?" asked a hopeful Pedro.

"I have to talk to my friends first. Like I said, we decide things together."

"But they're going to listen to you, right?"

"Yeah, they will."

"And you're going to tell them to let me go, right?"

Clem tried to force herself to say 'yes'. "I'll talk to them," she said instead. Clem left the lantern on the floor, figuring Pedro wouldn't like being stuck in the dark, the headed for the exit. "One more thing," she said before stepping on the ladder. "Have you ever heard of someone called Corporal Cruz? You don't have to tell me anything about them but—"

"I've never heard that name before," answered Pedro. "Is… is that someone bad? Someone we should be afraid of?"

Clem thought on how to answer him. "No," she said. "You don't need to be afraid of her." Clem stepped onto the ladder. "You're not the one she'd want to hurt…" Clem mumbled under her breath as she climbed outside.

It was still raining, but no more than before as she headed for Devlin's house. As she moved across the yard, Clem realized Corporal Cruz knew how to get past walkers too, and probably wasn't part of Pedro's group; this realization did little to ease Clem's racing mind. Stepping past the front door and into the Devlin's living room, Clem looked up to see everyone staring at her.

"Kem-men!" exclaimed Omid as he waddled across the living room.

"Hey Omid," said Clem as she picked up and hugged the boy. Looking at the others, she could see they were all decidedly less enthusiastic. "He—"

"We heard him," assured Devlin.

"You did?" asked Clem.

"We could hear everything Clem," assured a melancholy Patty as she put out a cigarette in an ashtray sitting next to baby monitor resting on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"Yeah, it worked," said Sarah as she moved to Clem and removed the monitor clipped to her back.

"What were you thinking?" asked Sin in a subdued but still hostile tone. "Offering him the food in Tulsa?"

"I—"

"She got him to talk," stated Devlin. "And all she said is there was food somewhere; she didn't say where."

"Still, now he has expectations, and she told him how to get past the walkers."

"And we haven't decided if we're even letting him go or not," stated Devlin in a stern voice. "So, let's decide already."

Devlin words prompted Clem to take a seat, which she found with Sarah and Jet on an old couch across from a couple of chairs where the others were sitting.

"Here," said Sarah as she handed Clem a stuffed elephant. "He usually sits still for a while if you give him this."

"El-muh," said Omid as he reached up to take his favorite toy.

"You just be good for a minute while we talk to everyone." Much to Clem's surprise, Omid started chewing on one of Elma's legs, which did keep him relatively quiet. Looking up at the others, Clem's eyes fell on Devlin as he cleared his throat.

"I guess I'll go first," he said. "I vote we let Pedro go."

"You can't be serious," snapped Sin.

"I am," stated Devlin. "You want to hear my reasons?"

"By all means," said Sin with a hint of sarcasm.

"The biggest deciding factor for me is that, if what Pedro is saying true, he's probably just one of a bunch of scouts for his group, and if he doesn't come back another one will probably come this way, if just to see if there was any food in the area Pedro was scouting.

"I always figured Tulsa is where we'd make contact, but inevitably we're going to cross paths with other people again. We give him the guide like Clem offered and we could possibly make an ally for the future, or at least appease these people enough to make them reconsider straight up attacking us. We kill him, then we might make an enemy, or at best, just put off another chance meeting for a little while."

"Or for a long while," retorted Sin.

"You're voting we kill Pedro," accused Jet. "Aren't you?"

"I don't take any pleasure in it, but yes," answered Sin coldly.

"I can't believe you," spoke a disgusted Jet.

"Do you want to hear my reasons?"

"No," said Jet flatly.

"You assume we could be making an ally by helping his people," Sin told Devlin while ignoring his grandson. "We could be strengthening a possible enemy."

"Who might have other enemies," said Devlin. "One of his people wrote 'danger' one a road not too far from here; it's possible they're worried about bigger threats we don't know even know about yet. It's a risk either way, but I honestly feel killing Pedro poses a bigger one than just letting him go."

"The only known risk is this boy's people," said Sin. "They're the real threat here."

"We don't know that yet," stated Devlin calmly.

"Don't we? Clementine practically had to verbally batter Pedro just to get him to say his people wouldn't attack us, but he talked plenty about how he didn't want to do this, couldn't use his gun, didn't know what to do, and how he's only sixteen," listed Sin. "What kind of people send some scared teenager out to do their dirty work? Not good ones."

"We use guns, and we're all younger than him," reminded Jet.

"You weren't forced to use guns," corrected Sin.

"I didn't want to learn to use a gun, but you thought I needed to."

"And I never insisted you, Sarah or Clem go out in place of me, Patty or Anthony," retorted Sin. "We agreed to take sensible precautions, but we all agree children shouldn't be our first line of defense."

"So you want to kill the kid they sent out because the people who sent him are wrong?"

Jet's words caught Sin off guard. He sat there for a moment, his face twitching as he thought to himself. "It's a grim necessity to protect ourselves," said Sin in a quick and quiet voice, like he was forcing himself to speak.

"That's just the kind of thing they'd say back in Houston," accused Jet.

"Houston kept up us safe for a long time," reminded a reluctant Sin.

"Until it didn't, because everyone hated living in such a shitty place, and we couldn't even go back to tell the people there how to hopefully survive outside it because we were so afraid of what the military would do to us if we even got near the city," ranted Jet.

"I don't agree with a lot of things the military did in Houston, but some of it really was a necessary evil dictated by the situation… some things they had to do to keep the people already inside the city safe."

"And then people attacked Houston, and we had to leave," reminded Jet in a harsh tone. "Their grim necessities and necessary evil didn't keep us safe; they probably made things worse!"

"How would you know?" spoke Sin in a decidedly unfriendly tone. "You spent almost your entire time there in your room, either in Houston or in Port Arthur. I was—"

"Because I couldn't go anywhere else, and the one time I did it was because they bombed our house!" retorted Jet. "People like them and people like you always—"

"You're comparing me to—"

"Always make excuses for doing horrible things, and act like being selfish is smart, but it's not, you're just selfish and you don't want to help anyone!"

"I never said—"

"The whole time I lived in Houston I told myself the terrible stuff they did to others was necessary— a necessary evil and there was nothing I could do about it. But it wasn't necessary, it was just evil, and I can do something this time, so I vote we let Pedro go."

"It's a bad idea," commented Anthony while staring out the window.

"Of course you think we should kill him," said Jet in a biting tone.

Anthony turned around and looked at Patty.

"You remember what I was like when you people found me?" he asked.

"Yeah, you were starving, and had that awful caveman beard," said Patty.

"And what I'd say when I saw you and Clem and Sarah, all nice and clean and well fed and with that big RV pumping diesel out of the ground?"

"You wanted to join us," recalled Patty.

"That's right, because I saw a good thing, and wanted in," said Anthony. "This kid, he sees the farm, he tasted our crops, knows we know how to deal with the dead, and he just wants to get away from all that?"

"He had just shot one of us," reminded Clem as she watched Omid chew on Elma's ears. "I told him we could still maybe help each other anyway, but it took time for me and Christa to trust the people who shot Omid."

"And even then, we were about to leave each other when we got chased out of the cabin," added Sarah. "After everything that's happened, and after what he did, Pedro probably didn't feel like we'd let him join us."

"And did you have a whole farm back then with food ready to be harvested any day now?" asked Anthony.

"Well, no," said Clem. "But—"

"I pointed a gun at you when I first met you, and you and Patty pointed ones right back, and I still told you I wanted to join you because I was literally starving and I could see none of you were," said Anthony. "This kid, if he's so hungry, should be begging us to be a part of our farm. Instead, he hushed up immediately after we figured out he was part of a bigger group and tried to get back to them the first chance he got, probably because he's already got it in his head they can take this place away from us if he can just tell them where it is."

"That's not fair," said Sarah. "Just because he wants to go home doesn't mean it's because he wants his friends to take our farm."

"He doesn't have to," said Anthony. "If he'll spill his guts for Clem, then he'll definitely tell his people what he saw here today."

"He promised he wouldn't," reminded Clem.

"He promised his people he wouldn't say anything if he ever got captured, and we saw how that turned out. How hard do you think it'll be for the people he already knows to convince him he's their friend? They'd just tell him they'd never lay a finger on us, then send someone here to kill us in our sleep. I mean, how would Pedro even know? He admitted he couldn't even get out here again, so how often do you think he'd check to make sure his people are keeping their word?"

"You don't know any of this," stated Sarah in a harsh tone.

"I know I saw shit like this before in Gulf Port," said Anthony. "People there would pretend to be your friend as long as they were getting something out of it, then slit your throat the second you became an inconvenience."

"So we kill Pedro because someone is using him?" asked an angry Jet.

"Like your granddad said, grim necessity," shrugged Anthony. "And that's assuming Pedro isn't in on it. We've been feeding him fresh food, maybe the only fresh food left in the country for two days, and he still tried to escape, and never once asked if he could stay. I think that tells us who he's loyal to."

"And that means he must be bad?" accused Sarah. "That he's only trying to get away so he can tell his group to come take our farm?"

"That's the safe guess," declared Anthony.

"Well it's wrong," declared Sarah. "If that's what he wanted he would have just been lying to us the whole time, telling us what we would want to hear, or scaring us by saying that warning is about a group of people only they know about, or anything that would get us to let him go. But he didn't, he didn't say anything until now because he wants to protect his people."

"Now who's talking about the kid like they know him?" asked Anthony. "And he said he knew we wouldn't believe him. Maybe he's smart enough to know not to peddle cheap lies that would hurt his chances of getting away."

"That doesn't even make sense," said Jet. "He's smart enough not to sell us cheap lies, then doesn't tell us anything at all? He barely talked to Clem just now. When was he going to launch this master plan of his exactly?"

"He could be pulling a long con?" suggested a half-hearted Patty with a shrug.

"I really doubt that," said Clem. "Like Jet said, he barely wanted to talk to me as it is, and he had all day yesterday to think up lies we might believe."

"And he's clearly afraid of us," added Sarah. "He's just a scared boy, not some… lying, planning, evil genius who wants to kill us."

"Even if he isn't, you want to stake our lives on none of his people being manipulative scheming sociopaths themselves?" asked Anthony.

"Yes," stated Sarah. "And I'm sure Patty doesn't want to kill him either, so…" Turning to Patty, Sarah could see the apprehension on her face. "Patty, you can't—"

"I'm sorry Sarah," spoke Patty in a pained voice. "I don't want to kill him but between our choices… I don't think we can risk letting him go."

"Risk letting… you mean we have to kill him, that's what you mean," accused a bitter Sarah.

"Murder him," added Jet in a biting tone. "Call it what it really is."

"I'm sorry, but—"

"Well it doesn't matter because Clem…" Clem found Sarah suddenly looking right her, and Clem found herself at a loss for words. "You… you too?"

"I… I don't know Sarah," confessed a nervous Clem as she clutched a fidgeting Omid with both hands. "I… I don't want to kill anyone, but I want us all to be safe here, and—"

"I can't believe this," said Sarah, the disgust in her voice wounding Clem.

"So that's four to—"

"I said I didn't know!" Clem snapped at Anthony.

"Well you'd better start knowing, because it sounds like you're the last undecided vote," said Anthony.

"Patty, you can't really be voting to kill someone, not like this," pleaded Sarah.

"Sarah, I—"

"I know you're mad because he shot your leg, and that was horrible, but I think that was just an accident," rambled Sarah. "Like when you tossed that grenade and almost killed Clem."

"What?" said Jet. "When did that happen?"

"That's not the same," answered Patty in a biting tone. "I had no idea anyone was in there—I had just seen that house was empty earlier the same day, and I practically begged for forgiveness from you two when I found out what I… I had almost done. This kid came into our home, took our food, shot me when we found him, and then hushed up the second we found out he was with a bigger group.

"I don't agree with Anthony about a lot of things, but it does sound like even after nearly killing me, Pedro is still more worried about his people, which doesn't strike me as a good sign. Either they're a bunch of really great people he thinks deserve protecting more than us, which I doubt seeing as he was complaining about them sending him out here, or he's fine with a group of assholes who might come here and kill all of us to take the farm."

"You don't know that," repeated Sarah.

"And you don't know he meant a damn word of what he said," retorted Patty. "And even if he was telling the truth, he could be some spineless kid who rolls over for vicious assholes. He could mean it when he says he doesn't want to hurt us, but be too chicken to stand up to whoever sent him off to find us in the first place."

"Like Deacon," said Clem with more than a hint of bitterness. "And if he was a scout for good people, he'd probably introduce himself first, like… like Corporal Cruz."

"Wait, who are you talking about?" asked a confused Jet.

"You mentioned Corporal Cruz when you talked to Pedro as well," noted Devlin. "Who is she?"

"She was someone we met when we first started living on the road, way back in South Carolina," explained Sarah. "She said she was a scout for a settlement and that we could come with her, but Clem thought it would be better if we just stayed on her own."

"But I'm guessing she didn't just spring up from nowhere and shoot one of you?" Anthony's question made Clem's heart beat a little faster.

"No, she announced herself, then put her gun down, then we let her in the Brave," recalled Sarah.

"That sounds more like behavior I would expect from someone associated with a well-meaning settlement," reasoned Sin. "Not like this boy who opened fire on the first thing he—"

"It was a mistake, he was just scared!" Omid started whimpering at Clem's outburst, and she found herself struggling to stop her hands from shaking as she coddled him. "I'm sorry yelled, it's okay," she said in a whisper as she did her best to preempt a possible crying fit. "Pedro being scared and shooting someone doesn't mean he's a bad person, okay?" rambled Clem to the group. "It… it just means he made a mistake."

"It was a pretty big mistake." Clem had to bite her tongue to keep herself from shouting something in response to Patty's words.

"Does… does he deserve to die for his mistake?" asked Clem, barely able to finish speaking that sentence.

"I… I don't know, probably not." Clem felt a tinge of relief to hear Patty say that. "But that's not the issue, the issue is letting him go or not, and I think it's too risky."

"Too risky to not murder him you mean," clarified a still angry Jet.

"Yeah, too risky to not murder him," repeated an irritated Patty. "Like I said, I don't like it, but I hate the idea of losing everything we've worked so hard to build here even more, and Pedro didn't sound so sure that wouldn't happen if we let him go."

"That could happen even if we do kill him," said Jet. "Just like Devlin said."

"But it feels a lot more likely if we let him go," said Patty. "So for me, that's the worse of two bad options."

"Clem, you don't think that, do you?" asked a desperate Sarah.

"I… I don't know," mumbled Clem as she shook her head.

"We can't just kill him, it's not right," insisted Sarah.

"I'm sorry Sarah, but I think this is something we've gotta do," spoke a reluctant Patty. "This isn't an easy choice for me either. I know it's different for you since you've never had to kill someone before but—"

"I've never had to kill someone? Fuck you Patty!" Everyone watched in shock as a furious Sarah jumped to her feet and marched over to where Patty was sitting. "You don't fucking have to!" Patty nearly fell out of her chair as Sarah screamed at her. "You never have to kill, you choose to! You do it because you're scared or you want to, but you never actually have to do it! No one ever has to kill! They choose to do it, but then they say they have to so they can act like it's not their fault! They say that to pretend like it's okay to kill people! They say they had to so they can sleep at night and… and…"

As a trembling Sarah trailed off, the sound of Omid's crying filled the room. Spinning around, Sarah hurried over to the wailing boy and collected him from Clem's arms. "I'm… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I…" Sarah briefly looked at the others, then hurried out of the living room, cradling Omid as she walked.

"Jesus…" muttered a shaken Patty under her breath.

"We… we still need a decision," spoke a stunned Devlin. "Clementine, what's your vote?"

Clem swallowed hard as she thought to herself. Everyone was looking at her now, waiting for her decision. Her hands were trembling as she forced herself to consider her options. She didn't think Pedro was lying to her, but he said himself his own people don't listen to him, and if they sent him out without even bothering to teach him how to take care of himself, then how much would they really care about strangers; strangers with a lot of food no less. Then an image of Pedro being shot in the head flashed into Clem's mind. "We're not killing him," she announced suddenly.

"Clem, we—"

"That's my vote, so that's what we're doing," Clem told Patty directly. "You're only alive because I took a chance and saved you in Titusville."

"And now we have to take a chance on this person?" asked Sin.

"Clem and Sarah took a chance saving us outside of Port Arthur," reminded Jet.

"I think that's a little different from this situation," said Anthony.

"But it's not that much different from yours, and we took a chance on you even though our group was half the size then," reminded Clem. "And I'm only alive because of a lot of people taking a chance to help a little kid. None of us would be alive right now if someone else didn't take a risk and help us at some point; the least we can do is take a risk for Pedro, and hope he does the same for us."

"His people might not return the favor," admitted Devlin as he stood up. "But killing him because they might not value life wouldn't speak well of any of us."

Patty groaned, then stood up and hurried out the door.

"Anthony, help me gather up his things and load them onto his bike," instructed Devlin.

"All right, but I'm telling you, this is a mistake," stated Anthony.

"Jet, you still got one of your guides you can give Pedro?"

"Yeah, I brought a couple with me when I left Tulsa, in case we ever met anyone… I guess we finally have."

"Before you give it to him, you should take out everything you wrote about where we've been," instructed Sin. "If we're making this deal Clem offered him, we don't need to be giving him clues to where the food she mentioned is."

"I could take out the page about Tulsa, but taking out that whole section would mean taking out the warnings about New Orleans and everywhere else they should avoid," realized Jet. "We can't—"

"Sin's right, we don't need to be giving them clues about where we were. Even Pedro is honest, it would only take one person in his group connecting the dots to figure out Tulsa is where we came from," stated Devlin. "And we don't want them figuring that out without us because it would take away the only leverage we would have if these people aren't… affable."

"We… uh… okay," conceded Jet before walking to the door with his granddad. Devlin looked at the Anthony, and the pair headed outside next, leaving Clem by herself. She stood up and followed the path Sarah had taken to find her friend playing with Omid on Devlin's bed.

"Peek-a-boo!" announced Sarah as she moved her hands so Omid could see her face. "Where's the baby?" asked Sarah as she covered a giggling Omid's face. She waited for his giggling to stop, then ripped her hands away. "There's the baby!" exclaimed Sarah to an outburst of laughter and squealing from Omid.

"You feel any better?"

Sarah looked over her shoulder at Clem, and almost instantly her smile was replaced with a frown.

"I'm… I'm okay," insisted a shaken Sarah as she turned back to Omid.

"You don't have to be," assured a sympathetic Clementine as she placed her hands on Sarah's shoulders.

"It's just… her saying that," Clem could see Sarah's face scrunching up in agony. "I…"

"It's okay," insisted Clem. "Just, try not to think about it."

"I… I haven't in a long time." Sarah took a deep breath. "How… how did you vote?"

"We're letting him go," informed Clem. "It's the right thing to do."

"Yeah… but the right thing is hard sometimes… a lot of the time."

"Yeah, well, hopefully it won't be too hard this time." Clem watched as Sarah picked up Omid.

"I'm just gonna take him back to his room," said Sarah as she adjusted her grip on the boy.

"You be good for Sarah," Clem told Omid as Sarah got off the bed.

"Muh-boo," giggled Omid.

"Love. You," repeated Sarah as she looked at Omid. "Can you say love you? Love. You."

"Lub-yoo."

Hearing that made Sarah smile, which made Clem smile. The pair headed back outside. It was still cloudy but it had stopped raining. Sarah headed right to the house and Clem was going to follow her when she noticed Patty tucked away just past the corner of the porch, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

"Hey," said Clem as she walked over to the woman. "Are you okay?"

"I… guess so," said Patty with a shrug. "Is… is Sarah okay?"

"I guess so," spoke an unsure Clem.

"I keep thinking back to our first trip out together," said Patty before taking a drag off her cigarette. "When we were talking about… having killed people, I can't remember if you said both you and Sarah had done it, or just you."

"That was such a long time ago. I don't remember either," admitted Clem.

"Maybe you did but in my head I just kept thinking there's no way someone like Sarah could ever kill someone." Patty looked over at Clem. "What… what happened?"

"Someone was holding a knife to my throat… and Sarah shot him."

"Jesus…"

"The first month we lived together, Sarah kept having nightmares about killing him."

"Wait, about killing him?" asked Patty.

"He was just a boy, only a year older than me."

"And… and he was holding a knife to your throat?"

"He had been hurt by people so bad that he didn't know what to do anymore but kill people and take what they had. He killed Omid's mom and Nick just because he wanted what they had, and he planned on doing the same to us."

"And Sarah felt bad for shooting him?"

"She tried talking to him, telling him we wouldn't hurt him if he just let us go. He listened to her, but he was still so afraid Sarah would shoot him if he let me go that he tried to take the gun from her… and that's when she shot him."

"God damn… she… she must hate me right now." Patty looked over at Clem. "I guess you hate me too."

"I don't hate you," assured Clem.

"But."

"But… I'm just surprised. You just seemed so sure we had to kill him, like you didn't even have to think about it."

"I…" Patty turned away, then took a deep breath and looked back at Clem, shame hanging off her face. "I really didn't, did I?"

"Huh?"

"Have to think about killing him. I… I never thought it would be that easy, I always figured if something like this happened I'd have to agonize over it… but no." Patty dropped her cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. "I'm starting to think it was easier living on the road. When we saw trouble then, we could just drive the hell away."

"We couldn't live on the road forever, you know that," said Clem.

"Yeah." Patty walked off towards the driveway.

"Where are you going?" asked Clem.

"Nowhere I guess," she said with a shrug. "This is where we live now."

Patty disappeared from view behind the Brave, leaving Clem alone again. Turning around, she could see the others gathered around the hatch to the storm shelter and moved to join them. Nearing the group, she watched as Pedro climbed out of the hatch, Anthony following right behind him. He stopped in front of Devlin, who was holding Pedro's bike upright in one hand and his backpack in the other.

"You okay?" asked Devlin as Pedro rubbed his wrist. "I didn't hurt you when I tied you up did I?"

"Not tying me up," said Pedro as he looked at Anthony. "He nicked me a little when he cut my ropes off just now."

"I barely scratched you," dismissed Anthony.

"It's fine though, I'm okay," assured Pedro.

"I just want you to know, we don't mean you or anyone any harm," said Devlin as he handed Pedro his backpack, which he opened and examined the contents of. "We're just trying to stay alive, like everyone else."

"I know, and… I'm really grateful you're letting me go, and… feeding me, even after I shot one of you," said Pedro as he held his head head low in shame. "Those salads were the best thing I've eaten in a long time. We've talked about growing stuff ourselves, but none of us really know how."

"It's hard—really hard," stressed Clem. "We're new to it ourselves, and Sarah had an anxiety attack trying to figure out everything we need to do."

"I wrote a section in my guide about farming," said Jet as he handed Pedro a day planner. "But I wrote it before we actually tried it ourselves, so it's just stuff I copied from books. Still, it might help. I actually check the chart I made for crop growth times every now and then so I'll know when the corn will hopefully be ready."

"Wow, you guys wrote a lot about the biters," awed Pedro as he flipped through the pages. "I mean, they told me you can distract them with loud noises but, I didn't think about using fireworks. And… aim for the ankle?"

"They never heal," informed Clem. "So if you break their ankle, they'll never walk again, and they're a lot slower crawling on the ground."

"If… if I had known all this before I left, I probably could have gotten into that big gas station I wasted all my bullets on." Pedro looked up from the guide. "They could go into a lot of places full of biters and clear them out with this stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we've had to do," said Clem. "And there's usually more food in areas with lots of walkers because most people stay away from them."

"Yeah, I… I see that right here," said Pedro as he eyed the guide again.

"That's why we made the guide," stated Devlin. "Clearing out a few city blocks just the seven us, we figured other people need to know how to fight these things so they could do the same."

"This… this could make a huge difference for us," stated Pedro as he looked up from the guide.

"What are you going to tell your people when they ask you where you got that guide?" asked Sin.

"I'll just tell them I found it in on someone's body," shrugged Pedro.

"And if they ask where you found the body?"

"I'll say it was somewhere in the opposite direction of this place."

"Will you be able to make it back to your people on your own?" asked Devlin.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm a lot less hungry since coming here… again, sorry for taking from your field." Pedro put his backpack on and turned to Clem. "Do you still want me to come back after a while, like we talked about?"

"To talk about the food I mentioned?" asked Clem.

"Maybe, but really I was kind of hoping that we could help you. I mean, this guide you gave us is probably going to help a lot of people," spoke a gracious Pedro. "Is there anything you need?"

"We're fine," insisted Sin.

"For the moment," added Clem as she eyed the dark clouds in the sky. "But if you want to come back in, a month, maybe we can talk more then?"

"All right, that'll give me time to learn all the stuff in your guide so I can make it out here a second time," said Pedro as he pocketed the book.

"Come on, I'll unlock the gate for you." Everyone followed Devlin to the front of the driveway and waited as undid the padlock.

"Whoa, hold up." Clem watched as Patty came rushing out of the Brave. She walked right up to where Pedro was standing with his bike, then cleared her throat. "I um… I brought a peace offering," stated Patty in an awkward fashion as she thrust a bottle of wine forward. "Just so you know there's no hard feelings, okay?"

"You're really giving this to me, even though I shot you?" asked Pedro.

"Yay, I'd appreciate it if you didn't remind me," snapped Patty. "But, thinking about it, if I had been in your shoes, I might be wondering about the people who tossed me in a shed and wouldn't let me go because of a mistake, and I thought this might help a little in convincing you that we're not bad people."

"I don't think your bad people, and I really appreciate this," said Pedro as he took the bottle. "Although, I don't drink."

"Now would be a good time to start," suggested Patty with a limp shrug. "Drinking always helps me when I have traumatic experiences."

"Is… is that the red wine?" asked Devlin as he eyed the label.

"Yeah, I'm not giving him the booze I like."

Devlin rolled his eyes at Patty, then turned to Pedro as he stored the wine in his backpack. "I know what we did to you may have been a little extreme, but it's only because we were worried about what else is still out there."

"I know what you mean," said Pedro as he mounted his bike. "And I'm really glad I found this place instead of somewhere else." Everyone watched as Pedro pedaled down the dirt road. They stood there in silence until he was just a distant dot that eventually disappeared from sight behind the trees surrounding the farm.

"What do you think he meant by that?" asked Sin. "That he was glad he found here instead of somewhere else?

"I think he just meant he's glad he ended up somewhere that didn't kill him," said Jet with a hint of annoyance.

"Or he's glad he found somewhere that can be useful to his people," suggested Sin.

"I really doubt he stayed quiet for two days just to hint at attacking us right before he left," dismissed Jet.

"It doesn't matter, it's done now," declared Devlin.

"So now what?" asked Anthony.

"Now we get back to running a damn farm," reminded an annoyed Patty.

"Right," said Clem with a sigh. "It's stopped raining, so I'll go ask Sarah if there's anything we need to do in the field today… there's always something we need to do."

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 76 - Mobility

Clementine wished she had a better source of light than just her lantern lying on the ground, but did her best to evaluate her choices. The red one-piece swimsuit was stylish enough, but it covered so much Clem was worried she'd barely feel the water while wearing it. The pink two-piece looked better except for the top that appeared ill-fitting on Clem. Holding it up in front of the mirror again, Clem wondered if it was even necessary for her to wear the top part.

"Hey!" Clem nearly jumped out of her skin as she dropped the swimsuits and spun around. She could see someone silhouetted against the store's glass doors and realized it was Anthony. "You still in here?"

"Yeah!" called Clem.

"Me and Devlin are done tying our load to the trailer and want to get out of Tulsa already," said Anthony. "You done clothes shopping or whatever?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out." Clem watched Anthony disappear past the front doors, then turned back to the swimsuits. She took one last look at the two-piece suit, then picked up the one-piece. She stuffed the swimsuit and her lantern into her backpack and hurried outside.

Returning to Tulsa had been a tense trip. Stopping at the Citadel to see if anyone was in the shopping center and then listening to Devlin call the radio over and over again left Clementine fearful of what they would do if anyone ever answered. No one did, nor were there any signs people had visited the shopping center, but listening to her footsteps echo across the asphalt as she headed for the semi-truck, Clem still couldn't shake the feeling of someone being out there, just waiting to find them.

"We finally done?" Clem heard Anthony ask as she approached the semi-truck. She watched as Devlin tugged on one of the straps tying the dozens of barrels to the flatbed trailer, then turned to Anthony, who was looking at a clipboard.

"You tell me," said Devlin.

"Well, we got all the barrels and stuff Sin needed for another rainwater collector, along with fire extinguishers, new grills, more propane, wind chimes, those little key box things for our vehicles…" Anthony trailed off as he looked up from his list. "I think that's everything."

"Clem, you get everything you wanted?" asked Devlin.

"I'd hope so, she had enough time to try on a new wardrobe while we're working."

Clem shot Anthony an annoyed look before turning back to Devlin. "I got everything I wanted."

"Two damn weeks we spent packing, and we still needed to come back here for more stuff," grumbled Anthony as he tossed the clipboard into the truck.

"At least this time we just had to tie stuff to the back of a flatbed and not play Jenga with those damn box trailers," said Devlin as looked over all the goods tied to the flatbed. "It's a shame we didn't find anyone waiting here."

"I hear ya."

Devlin and Clem looked at Anthony. "Really?" asked Devlin in disbelief.

"Yeah really, be nice to have an extra hand to do all this damn farm work," griped Anthony. "I was glad when you said you'd need me in Tulsa today because it gives me a break from working in the dirt this morning."

"Me too," added Clem.

"Speaking of the farm, I think it's time we pick-up our scarecrow." Devlin headed up to the door of the semi-truck. "Clem, you ride with Anthony. The trailer makes the semi pretty unwieldily, so if this goes wrong, you'd have a better chance of getting away in his truck instead of this one."

"But…" Devlin climbed into the semi and closed the door, leaving Clem alone with Anthony.

"Well come on," said Anthony as he headed for his own truck. "Unless you want to stay here, which I thought we all agreed we didn't."

Clem followed after Anthony and climbed into the seat next to him. He started his truck and followed Devlin's semi as it awkwardly maneuvered through the parking lot and back onto the nearest road while Clem inched as far away from Anthony as she could before looking out the window. Seeing the abandoned homes and stores of Tulsa again was a depressing sight. They had been living on the farm for so long now Clem had grown accustomed to their small plot of land full of living people and growing plants. Once again laying eyes on this vast yet dead city was distressing, seeing all the emptiness and being forced to think about how many must have died all over again just made Clem even more eager to return home.

"So what'd I do this time?" Clem looked over at Anthony, who was casually leaned back in his seat as he drove.

"What do you mean?" asked Clem, feigning ignorance.

"You didn't want to ride with me on the way down, didn't want to just now, and I've noticed you've been avoiding me more than usual," listed Anthony, not sounding all the concerned. "Is this just gonna be the norm for us or did I forget your birthday or something?"

"My birthday is at the end of August," reminded Clem.

"And I didn't miss Sarah's, that's in two weeks."

"It… it is," realized Clem as she counted the days and realized the middle of May wasn't far off.

"So, what then?" Clem crossed her arms. "If you want to give me the silent treatment, that's fine by me, but Sarah can't say I didn't try."

Clem sighed. "Why did you want to go swimming with her a couple of weeks ago?"

"Wait, that's why you're mad at me?" asked Anthony as he looked over, appearing genuinely surprised. "Because I didn't see jack. If Sarah hadn't said you were there—"

"It's not that," insisted Clem. "Why did you want to go swimming with Sarah?"

"Um, because it sounded like a nice break after sweating my ass off in both a field and a greenhouse all damn day."

"So why not go swimming alone?"

"I told Sarah you'd get jealous," mumbled Anthony as he turned back to the road.

"I'm not jealous," insisted a defensive Clem. "I just want to know why you wanted to go swimming with her, and not alone or with anyone else?"

"Why do you think I wanted to go?" Clem racked her brain for an answer, but she couldn't think of one that didn't sound like a baseless accusation. "Go ahead, tell me all about the horrible scheme was I concocting."

"I don't think you had a scheme it's just…"

"Just what?" asked Anthony.

"Just… there was a boy named Mick who pretended to be friend's with Sarah, then told her she had to kiss him, and he wouldn't take no for an answer," recalled Clem. "I don't want anyone to hurt her like that again."

"It ever occur to you I actually want to be friends with the one person who doesn't treat me like a damn leper?" asked Anthony. "I swear, y'all pile onto me outta habit just because it makes you feel superior."

"That's not true," insisted Clem.

"Isn't it? Everyone looked at me like I'm a monster for shooting that deer, but y'all ate it."

"Sarah didn't."

"Yeah, and she's the one person who thanked me for saving you and Patty back in New Orleans." Clem opened her mouth to refute Anthony, but she couldn't think of anything. "It any wonder she's the one I want to spend more time with?"

Clem couldn't think of a retort to that either. Instead, she just turned away and let Anthony concentrate on his driving. She didn't like Anthony saying she was jealous, but Clem did wish she had more time to be with Sarah. They both were working so much now they almost never got to spend any time together having fun anymore. Even when they go to bed, they're both usually too tired to stay up and talk like they used to before starting the farm.

"Speaking of dirty work, I think this is our stop." Sitting up, Clem saw someone standing in the middle of an intersection off in the distance. It didn't take long for Clem to recognize it as a walker, the first they had seen since returning to Tulsa, or since arriving at Ceres Acres she realized. It was just standing there, shifting slightly in place like it was ready to fall over at any moment.

"Surprised it took us so long to find one," said Anthony as he shifted the truck into park.

"We killed a lot of them when we came to Tulsa," reminded Clem.

"Yeah, but just around the shopping center after we cleared a path to it," said Anthony as he opened his door. "Never thought the day would come when we had to go looking for one of these fuckers."

Clem hurried out of Anthony's truck and towards his camper where they both quickly threw on their raincoats. Clem found the smell much worse than she remembered, and couldn't slip on her respirator quick enough. With her gun already in its holster, Clem grabbed her tomahawk and hurried over to where Devlin was already standing outside his truck.

"All right, let's do this slowly and carefully," said Devlin as he slipped on an extra thick pair of gloves.

"Yeah, it's not like we've killed a thousand of these fuckers before," said Anthony.

"All the more reason not to screw up and get ourselves killed now," asserted Devlin as he handed Anthony a pair of similar gloves. "And none of us has ever had to muzzle one of these things before."

"What should I do?" asked Clem.

"Climb up top and keep watch for us," said Devlin as he unloaded then reloaded his rifle. "There's almost never just one infected by itself, but if we're quick and quiet, we might be able to nab this one before any others come wandering out."

"Got it," nodded Clem.

"And here, take this." Devlin handed Clem a single grenade, which she carefully clipped to her belt. "If a flood of these things start marching out then the noise from that can draw them away. You remember what I told you about these right?"

"As long as I hold the handle down, it won't blow up," recited Clem.

"That's right, you could stick something heavy on the handle and just leave it if you were careful," explained Devlin. "So if you need to use this, take your time and make sure you choose your target carefully."

"Got it." Clem climbed up the front of the semi's grill while Devlin and Anthony started rushing across the road. Reaching the roof of the truck, Clem whipped out her binoculars and scanned the area. No signs of more walkers, but this part of Tulsa was unfamiliar to her and every house lining the sides of the road could be brimming with the dead. Looking down at the road, Clem watched as Anthony and Devlin rushed up to the unsuspecting walker and simultaneously attacked both its ankles with bats.

Clem did another quick search of the area, fearful she would see the dead or even the living rushing towards their position at any minute. Nothing came, and before she knew it, Anthony and Devlin were dragging the walker back towards the truck by it twisted legs at it swung its arms around in a fruitless attempt to grab hold of its attackers.

"You see anything Clem?" called Devlin as he let go of the walker.

"Nothing," she reported.

"Good, come on down," instructed Devlin. "If we need to kill this thing in a hurry, then it might fall on you to be the one who pulls the trigger."

"Be right there." Climbing down and landing on the asphalt, Clem got her first good look at the walker. Whoever they used to be, they were kind of short and fairly skinny. Beyond that, it was hard to tell much if anything about them. The putrid skin on their face had been eroded to the point it looked like little more than a skull covered in peeling flesh, and its clothes were tattered and stained long beyond recognition as anything other than merely resembling a shirt and pants. Clem almost felt sorry for it as it lay there on its back, swatting at the air.

"All right, let's deal with the hands first," said Devlin in a whisper as he handed Anthony a machete. "Remember, just get the hands, we still want to leave the rest of the arms for it to swat at crows. And Clem, be ready with your pistol if this goes wrong."

"I will." Clem drew her gun and moved around the thrashing corpse, positioning herself a few feet away from its head where she'd have a clean shot. She watched as Devlin grabbed one of the walker's arms and forced it flat against the pavement in a series of quick motions. Right after that Anthony swung the machete and sliced the hand clean off.

Devlin let go the walker just as it managed to flip over, swinging at the air with its other hand to snag whatever it could. Clem felt her finger instinctively go for the trigger but Devlin easily grabbed the second arm and Anthony sliced off its hand as well with little effort. Anthony placed a foot on the walker's back to keep it from trying to crawl away while Devlin grabbed something from the semi.

"All right, here comes the fun part," mumbled Devlin in a grim tone as he adjusted his grip on the catcher's helmet. "Clem—"

"I'll be ready if something happens," she assured as she tightened the grip on her gun.

"Here we go." Devlin took a breath, then pushed the helmet forward. He managed to slip it on the walker's head with a single quick motion, then he pushed on the back of the helmet to force the walker to face the pavement. Clem watched as Devlin grabbed some straps on the back of the helmet, tightening them as much as he could.

"All right, that takes care of the muzzle," said Devlin as he gave the helmet's strap one final tug.

"Now let's tape up the stumps," reminded Anthony. "I remember when we cleared our way to the shopping center, Sin said something about if the bites are what kill you, then it might be something in the bones itself. The last thing we need to is to be watering tomatoes one day and our scarecrow manages to scratch us with a chunk of bone sticking out of its arm."

"Don't have to tell me." Devlin positioned one of his knees on the walker's back while grabbing both arms. The walker continued to twitch its head as much as it could while Anthony wrapped its severed arms in thick plastic and duct tape. Watching the corpse chomping its teeth, Clem took some relief in that the catcher's mask did form a barrier between the walker's mouth and anything it wanted to bite, but listening to that sickening groaning and hissing filled her with dread just the same.

Anthony was able to tape the walker's severed arms without incident, replacing its hands with a couple of thick wads of plastic. It was almost comical watching the walker swing its arms now, unable to grab anything even if it did manage to make contact with them. Around the time Anthony was holding the walker down so Devlin could secure a collar around its neck, Clem felt herself growing uneasy for a different reason.

"This feels wrong," she blurted out.

"Hey, you guys are the always the ones who tell me these aren't people anymore," reminded Anthony as he held the mutilated walker in place.

"I know, but…"

"It's still pretty morbid to use someone's body as a scarecrow, especially when that body isn't quite dead yet," concluded Devlin as he tightened the collar with a swift tug. "I don't like it either, but Sarah says she's just about at the end of her rope with crows in our field."

"Tell me about it," griped Anthony as he stood up. "There's more of them every fucking morning."

"It's like Sarah said, our farm is the only food in the area, and they know we can't watch it all the time," said Clem.

"No, but our new friend here can," said Anthony as he knelt down. "Isn't that right buster?"

"Clem, get the door to Anthony's camper," instructed Devlin as he grabbed the walker from under its armpits.

"Got it." Clem rushed over to Anthony's camper and pulled the door open. The floor inside was already lined with plastic they set out earlier and Clem waited as Anthony and Devlin dragged the walker to its new cell. The pair tossed the snarling corpse inside and Clem slammed the door shut.

"I sure hope this is a good idea," said Devlin as he listened to the walker thrashing about inside.

"Hey man, even fish won't go near these things," said Anthony

"Nothing does," noted Clem.

"Let's hope that includes crows," said Devlin as he pulled off his gloves.

Clem was happy to once again leave Tulsa behind. She thought she would have enjoyed a break from tending crops, but being back in the desolate ruins of civilization just replaced tiresome work with an unrelenting fear of the unknown that cast a shadow over everything they did, one she was eager to escape. Looking over at Devlin as he drove, she could tell he was anxious to return as well, and could only imagine how much worse it must have been for him when he had come to Tulsa alone back in April.

Clem perked up as she spotted a familiar forest in the distance. It was an excruciatingly slow commute home as Devlin had to maneuver the truck and its trailer down a winding path through the woods. Clem never realized just how long this road was until just now and started to wonder if they were ever actually going to get home. Finally, the truck broke through the trees and the farmhouse came into view. They drove past the trio of small apple trees planted beside the road and came to a stop as they found Sarah, Patty, and Omid all standing just outside the fence.

"I didn't know Sarah knew how to ride a bike," said Devlin as he watched Sarah try to turn.

"She doesn't," said Clem as Sarah and the bike fell onto their side. "I'll go help her up." Clem undid her seat belt and hurried out of the truck. She rushed over to Sarah as she was picking herself up off the ground.

"You okay?" asked Clem.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I'm just never going to get this."

"Ah-gee! Ah-gee!" Clem heard Omid yell between bursts of laughter.

"I think he wants to see you fall over again," translated Patty as she led the boy closer to the pair.

"I'm sure he'll get to see that soon." Clem took one look at a disappointed Sarah and removed her backpack. "Are those—"

"Training wheels," said Clem.

"I probably should have just brought a pair of these with us when we left Tulsa," said Patty as she took the tiny wheels from Clem. "Never occurred to me you didn't know how to ride a bike either Sarah."

"I just never really wanted a bike so I never learned how," said Sarah with a shrug as she wheeled the bike back towards the gate. "I'm still not sure I want to learn how."

"You will," assured Clem as she pulled the gate open so Anthony could drive inside. "Then we can go riding together."

"To-tether," repeated Omid as Patty held his hand while Anthony's truck drove by.

"Sure, right after we go swimming again," said Sarah with another sigh as she placed the bike back on the Brave's rack. "We barely had time to do this before you guys got back; we barely have time for anything anymore."

"I know." As Clem shut the gate, she watched as Devlin turned the truck to park it besides the fence. Looking at everything loaded on the trailer pass her by forced Clem to contemplate how long it would take to offload it.

"So, nobody was waiting for you in Tulsa?" asked Patty.

"No," said Clem as she headed towards the Brave. "I don't think anyone has been there since we left."

"Did you guys get everything on the list?"

"Yep," said Clem as she opened a compartment on the Brave.

"Everything?" repeated Sarah, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, we got… we got one." Clem placed the grenade into Patty's box for them, then looked over at Anthony's camper.

"And… you three were all okay, right?" asked Sarah, sounding guilty.

"We're fine Sarah, we were careful."

"All right, I'll take Omid inside while Devlin and Anthony put our… scarecrow, in place," said Patty as she picked up the toddler.

"Clem, can you go get Jet and Sin?" asked Sarah. "They're at the lake working on Sin's irrigation trench, or I think it's a channel now."

"Sarah and I made something special for lunch while you guys were gone," said Patty with a smile. "And we don't want anyone to miss it."

"What'd you make?"

"The sooner you bring back Sin and Jet, the sooner you'll find out."

"Fide out!" giggled Omid.

A promise of a surprise for lunch was enough to get Clem moving. She quickly stored her gun and other gear in the Brave, then took off towards the lake. Hurrying past the backhoe parked beside the barn, she found herself following the trail of the recently buried pipe right towards the edge of the lake. There Jet was standing near the shore while Sin tossed a lasso out onto the water. He managed to wrangle a small log floating in the water, then he and Jet started pulling it in.

"What are you two doing?" asked Clem.

"Cleaning up the driftwood before we open our new channel," informed Sin in-between heaves.

"Granddad said he doesn't want it blocking the flow of water," informed Jet as they pulled the log closer to shore. Looking down, Clem noticed there were actually several pieces of wood piled up on the shore, like someone was trying to start a fire and didn't realize wet wood wouldn't burn.

"I got a swimsuit. I could just go into the lake and get the wood for us," informed Clem.

"Granddad insisted on showing off his lasso skills," mumbled Jet as they pulled the wood in.

"I wanted to stay in practice," corrected Sin as he untied the knot. "And I offered to let you practice as well."

"I told you, throwing ropes is something you're good at, not me," said Jet as he picked up the wood.

"You'd get better if you practiced." Clem noticed Jet grimacing at Sin's words as he tossed the wood onto the pile.

"Well, I just came to tell you lunch is ready," informed Clem.

"We'll be there as soon as we're done with this," said Jet as he turned around. "We won't be long."

"Can I help?" asked Clem.

"Not unless you want to learn how to throw a lasso," suggested Sin as he coiled his rope around his arm.

"I wouldn't mind."

Sin gave Clem an approving look, then turned to Jet. "Why don't you head back? Clem and I can finish up."

"You sure?" asked Jet.

"Yes, I don't see any pieces past these last two, so we'll be right behind you." Jet hurried away while Sin turned to Clem. "Do you know how to tie a lasso?" he asked while holding out the rope.

"Um, yeah, OJ's mom showed me how," said Clem as she examined the knot. "Once, Sarah and I got trapped on this warehouse, and I had to make a lasso so we could grab one of the walker's arms below because we needed something to make us smell like them."

"It sounds like you already know how to use one then," realized Sin.

"Well, I can make a lasso, but we didn't throw it, we just lowered it down and pulled on it when something grabbed it," explained Clem.

"Well, throwing a lasso isn't all the complicated," explained Sin as he handed Clem the rope. "Just put your index finger right here, below the knot, and pinch it a little with your thumb, that way you don't pull out the slack spinning it around."

"Okay," said Clem as she adjusted her grip.

"Now, you just want to twirl it with your wrist, then toss it at that bigger log over there." Sin took a step back and Clem lifted the rope above her head. She twirled it as hard as she could before letting go, causing the lasso to immediately splash into the water directly in front of her.

"Go a little slower this time," instructed Sin as Clem pulled the rope in. "It's much more important to maintain a steady rhythm as you twirl it than to do it quickly."

"Okay." Clem twirled the rope a little slower this time, keeping it spinning above her head until she found her rhythm. Once she felt like she had her timing down, Clem tossed the lasso as hard as she could. This time the rope sailed half way to the log before hitting the water.

"That was better, but you shouldn't force your throw like that."

"What do you mean?" asked Clem as she pulled the rope in.

"It's not like throwing a ball," explained Sin. "You want to just let go as you swing it forward."

"Like a frisbee?" asked Clem as she started twirling the rope.

"In a sense, it's more about the timing than how hard you throw it," said Sin. "Keep your eye on the target and just let the lasso go as you swing it forward."

Clem did as instructed, keeping her eyes fixed on the log floating out in the lake while she twirled the rope over her head in a big circle. Focusing on a single broken branch jutting out from the side of the wood, Clem felt the lasso move with her arm and let go of it as her hand shot forward. It sailed through the air and the loop threaded itself on the busted branch.

"I did it!"

"Good, now give the line a hard pull to tighten the lasso." Clem tugged on the line and snagged the branch. Pulling on the log, Clem felt the line grow lighter as Sin started helping.

"You'd make a good cowgirl," complimented Sin.

"I think being a farmer is enough," assured Clem as she pulled the log onto the shore.

"My luuk-saow, daughter, wanted to be a cowgirl, at least until she spent a week on a farm one summer. I still remember when she came home and asked me what I do at my job, and specifically did I have to get up at dawn every day to do it; I told her I didn't." Sin took a breath as he pulled the log in. "And yet she got involved with humanitarian work, and ended up doing something far harder and more dangerous than farm work. She could have done anything, and all she wanted to do was help people."

"She sounds like a really good person," said Clem as they rolled the log towards the pile of wood.

"Better than me…"

Clem looked up to see Sin's expression had soured slightly, like he was trying to hide being upset. He took the rope in hand and Clem watched as he quickly twirled and tossed it to wrangle the last piece of driftwood in sight. As he pulled it in, Clem noticed the small ditch leading water from the lake into a what looked like a concrete box buried in the dirt near the shore.

Clem knew Sin and Devlin had been putting the finishing touches on the irrigation channel, but hadn't seen it for herself yet. Examining it, she saw the water flowed through the ditch and into the concrete section through a piece of mesh covered by a big piece of cloth. Clem realized it was probably a filter like they used when collecting water to boil. The other end of the concrete reservoir was blocked by a metal slab covering the entrance to the pipe that had been buried underground.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

Clem looked over her shoulder at Sin. "What do I do?"

"All you need to do is pull open the gate," said Sin as he gestured to a crude handle welded to the top of the metal slab. "Then we'll have water running from the lake and into our pond."

Clem moved over to the gate and wrapped her fingers around its handle. Pulling out the slab was harder than she thought. It wasn't particularly heavy, but the force of the water pushing against it made moving it difficult. Clem's arms strained as water started flowing into the pipe, but she gave the gate a final pull and fell over backwards as she removed the slab from the channel.

Sitting up, Clem could see water rushing in from the lake and into the now open pipe. Moving in close, she could also hear the echo of the water running through the buried plumbing. As she was observing their new channel, Clem suddenly realized she was still holding the metal slab that had served as a gate. Noticing Sin was looking at her, she offered it to him.

"Sorry," she said as she handed it over. "I think I broke it."

"Not at all." Clem watched as Sin knelt down and slid the metal slab over the top of the reservoir, actually inserting it into groves running along the top of the concrete.

"You made the gate the same size to work as a cover," realized Clem.

"I thought it would be less likely for someone to lose it if the gate still served a purpose even when the channel is open," said Sin as he slid the slab into place, completely covering the reservoir.

"That's really smart," complimented Clem.

"It's nothing particularly complex, but since the one piece and serve both purposes, it saved Devlin the trouble of having to cut more than two pieces of metal," said Sin as he stood up. "Speaking of which, we should open the outtake by the pond and make sure there aren't any clogs in the line."

The pair marched back to the farm, arriving at a similar concrete reservoir built next to their half-drained pond. Sin removed the gate and water immediately came rushing out. Listening to the steady flow and watching it pour into their pond, refilling their field's water supply, Clem felt an odd satisfaction in their success. Even if she hadn't done much herself to build the irrigation channel, she couldn't help feeling proud in their creation anyway. And looking at Sin, she could only imagine how much more proud he felt as he tried to hide the smile on his face.

As they were walking back to the house, Clem couldn't help noticing their new scarecrow sitting in the field. Against her better judgement, Clem headed towards it for a closer look. The walker detected her presence and crawled towards her, snarling loudly. The very short chain anchoring it to the post planted in the dirt kept it from moving more than a foot towards her, and the catcher's mask would have kept it from biting her anyway, and it had no hands left to grab her, yet, she still found its presence disturbing.

"Devlin poured cement when he put that post in the ground," assured Sin, unable to completely conceal the concern in his voice.

"I know. Sarah was annoyed we had to move some of our plants to make room." Clem stood there quietly as she listened to the walker snarl, eternally clueless to its own imprisonment.

"We can always just shoot him later if this doesn't work," reminded Sin.

"Let's just go have lunch already."

The pair returned the yard where the others were already gathered. Devlin had set-up an umbrella he took from Tulsa over the picnic table. In addition to giving them a break from the sun, it also set the perfect mood for Sarah and Patty to reveal their surprise; a freshly tossed salad made from their very own crops. Sarah explained it was still too early for them to be harvesting things regularly but thought everyone would appreciate a literal taste of what was to come as Patty set out a couple of big bowls. They were both overflowing with lettuce, and glistening like gems amongst the greens were freshly sliced tomatoes and cucumbers.

There was practically a traffic jam of hands as everyone couldn't wait to sample the salad, and they all were stuffing their faces before Patty revealed she had managed to dig out some choice salad dressings from the food trailer. Clem didn't even like salad that much before the outbreak, but now she couldn't get enough of it. The refreshingly cool cucumber slices, the juicy pieces of tomato, even the crisp leafs of lettuce had a wonderful flavor she didn't dare delude with any dressing.

Omid however was much more particular about what he ate. He liked the tomatoes, but didn't care for the lettuce. The cucumbers he couldn't get enough of, and Clem found herself wishing she could keep more slices of the juicy goodness for herself as she fed him piece after piece. Sarah also discovered he liked one of the salad dressings and was able to get him to eat a few big pieces of lettuce by drenching them in it first.

Sadly the meal seemed to end almost right after it began, and everyone breathed a collective sigh as they returned to work. Sarah headed for the greenhouse while Devlin and Sin offloaded the trailer. Jet spent time putting away all the smaller things they had brought back from Tulsa, including hanging up their new fire extinguishers. Patty and Anthony were stuck watering the crops this afternoon while Clem was supposed to watch Omid, something that had become less of a chore and more of a break when compared to everything else.

Clem happily read to Omid in his room, played with toys, made faces for him, and tried to teach him new words. She had spent a lot of time talking to Omid in the past, but it was a little strange having him talk back. A lot of it was still baby talk, but every day Clem could understand a few more words he was saying, and Omid seemed like he could understand her more, leaving Clem to wonder what she would say when they could both fully understand each other.

That wasn't today though, as it took Clem a while to realize Omid was saying 'pay' over and over again because he wanted to play with paints. She hadn't actually gotten to see him finger paint before so it was exciting for Clem to watch Omid try to draw something, at least for a few minutes. After making some brown smudges across a few sheets of paper by mixing all the colors together, Omid was determined to smear paint everywhere he could.

Clementine was aware of this possibility from Patty describing her time watching Omid before, but she wasn't nearly as ready for it as she had thought she would be. Omid was fast and relentless in his pursuit to touch things with his paint-covered hands, laughing as he left handprints on everything he came in contact with. This included Clem when she eventually grabbed him, and she had to endure being painted herself long enough to bring Omid to the bathroom. She rinsed him off in the tub, then while letting him soak in the bath, managed to sneak off long enough to clean up most of the paint he had smeared across his room.

Dressing Omid in clean clothes and setting him in his crib, Clem went to the bathroom to clean herself up only to realize she had used up all the water on washing Omid. There was no running water in the house, so they had to keep a few buckets handy for bathes as well as flushing the toilet. Not having any left for either now, Clem grabbed the empty buckets and headed outside to fetch a couple of pails of water.

At first she tried the barrels attached to the house's gutters, but they were both empty. It hadn't rained much recently which meant the pond would be the nearest source of water. Walking across the sun-bleached field, feeling the heat of summer on her face, Clem had wished they had run water right to the house but was still grateful Sin's channel at least meant she didn't have to walk to the lake.

Carrying the filled buckets back to the house was a literal pain in Clem's arms. Walking across the field, wishing it was a shorter walk, Clem could hear their new scarecrow growling loudly just off the distance. Initially, she thought maybe it was reacting to her, but she seemed too far away for it to notice. Inching closer, Clem could see someone standing in front of the walker, seemingly stretching their hand out towards it.

"Jet?" asked Clem. "What are—"

The person spun around and Clem found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Forcing herself to look upward, Clem saw herself staring into the trembling eyes of a scared young man. It wasn't Jet, but he wasn't much taller than him, and had dark hair like him except messier. His clothes were very dirty, like his face, and if not for the gun in his hand, Clem would assume a strong breeze could knock him over. The pain from holding onto the water was getting worse with every second, but Clem endured it out of fear of startling the intruder by dropping the buckets. She watched helplessly as he looked over his shoulder at the growling walker trying to escape its restraints.

"You never saw me, okay?" pleaded the young man in a desperate voice, the pistol trembling in his hand as he inched away from the walker. "All right, I'm… I'm just gonna go and—" Clem saw Patty coming up behind the young man, and he saw it too when he noticed Clem's eyes moving. The intruder spun around just in time to be struck by Patty's watering can. There was a single bang and Clem watched as both the gun and Patty went crumpling onto the dirt while the intruder went running across the field.

"Patty!" yelled Clem as she dropped the buckets and rushed to the woman's side. "Are you okay! Are—"

"I'm okay," she insisted through clenched teeth. "Go warn the others!"

Clem found the gun lying on the ground and scooped it off the dirt as she took off running after the intruder. She cleared the field and emerged in front of the fence surrounding the house just as she heard a second gunshot. Clem watched as the trembling intruder stood in front of Jet, who lowered his gun to aim at Patty's attacker.

"Don't… don't move," ordered Jet, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

"What's going on?" Clem heard Devlin yell as he and Sin came running across the driveway. "Somebody—who the hell is that?" asked Devlin.

"Jet, are you okay?" said Sin asked as he inched towards his grandson, taking great care to avoid stepping any closer to the intruder, who seemed petrified where he stood.

"I heard a shot so I grabbed the gun in the house and ran out here and…" Jet hastily rambled before trailing off. "I shot into the air and they stopped."

"Who are you?" asked Devlin as he approached the intruder.

"He fucking shot me, that's who." Clem looked over her shoulder to see Patty limping forward with Anthony's help.

"Holy shit you weren't kidding," spoke a stunned Anthony. "There is someone here."

"There could be others still," reasoned Devlin as he approached Jet. He gestured to the boy, who gladly passed the pistol over to him. "Everyone get inside the fence, that includes you." Devlin aimed the gun at the intruder's feet, who was still trembling in place. Slowly everyone filed into the yard, keeping their distance from the outsider as if he were contagious. As Clem crossed past the fence she spun around and immediately locked it. The gates all had padlocks, but she had never used one until now.

"Clem!" Turning around, Clem saw a frightened Sarah rushing up to meet her. "Are you okay? Who… who's that?"

"I don't know," answered Clem.

"Jet, go lock the other gate; Anthony, grab a rifle and a ladder so you can get up on the roof to keep a lookout," ordered Devlin. "Sin, clear off the table and help Patty onto it; Sarah, grab our first aid-supplies."

"Why, did—oh God!" As Sin helped Patty to lie down on the table, Clem noticed the bloody gash on her pants. The cut ran across Patty's left thigh and was dripping blood as Sin pressed his hands against it. Without another word, Sarah took off running towards the Brave along with Anthony while Jet hurried to the other gate at the end of the driveway.

"All right," said Devlin as he took a couple of steps towards the intruder. "Who are you and why are you here?"

"Please, just let me go," he pleaded. "I'm sorry, just let me go and you'll never see me again."

"You're sorry? You fucking shot me!" barked Patty as Sin struggled to keep pressure on her leg.

"I'm sorry!" blurted out the intruder, their voice thick with guilt. "It was an accident, I swear!"

"Were you accidentally aiming at Clem?"

"What?" asked Jet as he hurried back to the center of the yard. "What happened?" Before he could get an answer, Sarah and Anthony returned from the Brave. There was a tense silence as Sarah looked over at Clem, clearly worried. Clem tilted her head towards Patty, which was enough of a signal to send Sarah hurrying while Anthony ran over to the shed to grab a ladder.

"I… I think it's just a graze," announced Sarah as she cut through Patty's pant leg with a pair of scissors.

"You sure about that?" asked Patty through her teeth, more fear seeping into her voice with every word she spoke. "It… it really fucking hurts."

Clem could see the injury more clearly now. It didn't look deep but there was a lot of blood dripping down her leg even with Sin trying to stop it.

"Can you still walk on that leg?" asked Sarah.

"She was walking when I found her," informed Anthony as he set up the ladder.

"Yeah, it just really fucking hurts," added a nervous Patty.

"But you could still move it, right?" Patty nodded in response. "Okay, I think you're okay, but…"

"But what?"

"I think we should stitch up the gash," announced Sarah.

"Do you know how to do that?" asked Patty.

"I've read about it…" Patty just stared at Sarah, clearly frightened. "And I used to sew up holes in our clothes when I lived in Spokeston with Clem."

"Have any of you ever done anything like this before?" Patty looked at the others only to find expressions that made it clear they didn't. Clem could barely stand to have her arm sewn up once. She didn't even want to think about stitching up someone else's wound. Even when Patty turned to Sin, the man could only sheepishly look at Sarah in response. "Jesus," mumbled Patty as she lied back on the table.

"Here, just take this," said Sarah as she offered Patty a pill. "It's a painkiller. We'll wait a few minutes for it to work and then… I'll try to sew up the cut."

Patty swallowed the pill while Sin took some bandages from Sarah and applied them to the wound. As Sarah opened a box full of small, curved needles, Clem turned back towards the intruder, who was just staring down at his feet as anxiety gripped his grimy face.

"Anthony," called Devlin as Anthony took up a position on the roof. "Can you see anything from up there?"

"Nothing so far," he announced as he carefully spun in place. "I don't see anything or anyone, other than Buster."

"Buster?"

"The dead guy chained up in the middle of the field."

"Other than him?"

"Nothing," said Anthony.

"Keep us posted," said Devlin as he turned towards Clementine. "Real quick, what happened."

"I was bringing water back to the house, then I heard the walker making some noises. I thought Jet was looking at it, but when I said his name, he spun around and I saw that it was... him, not Jet," explained Clem as she pointed at the intruder. "He pointed a gun at me, and told me to pretend I never saw him."

"That's when I spotted them," added Patty with a groan. "Saw him aiming his gun at Clem and tried to knock it out of his hand with my watering can, but he spun around and shot me."

"I… I didn't mean to shoot," insisted the intruder in a shaken voice. "When you hit my arm I accidentally pulled the trigger."

"My ass you did!" growled Patty. "You saw Clem looking at me and spun around ready to shoot."

"I thought it was another biter, I almost shot the chained up one when I first saw it," pleaded the intruder.

"Clem," said Devlin. "You were there, what do you think?"

"He did look scared the whole time," said Clem.

"And he had a gun," added Patty. "That's a dangerous combination."

"Keep my gun, I don't care," insisted the intruder. "It's out of bullets anyway."

Clem removed the pistol's magazine; it was empty. Likewise, cycling the gun also produced nothing. "He's telling the truth," informed Clem.

"About the gun," added Anthony from the roof. "He's gotta backpack. There could be another gun in it, or worse."

"There's not," insisted intruder.

"Then you don't mind us looking through it real quick." Devlin's suggestion was met with a look of apprehension from the intruder. "Okay, I'm gonna have to insist now."

The intruder hastily tossed off their backpack and threw it at Devlin's feet in frustration. Jet took a step towards the bag only to be stopped by Devlin. "Let me," he insisted before offering the gun back to the boy. "Just in case it's booby-trapped."

"You'd think he'd booby-trap his own backpack?" asked Clem.

"Probably not, but I saw people do stranger things while trying to get into Tulsa." Jet aimed the gun at the intruder while Devlin very gently slid the backpack away from the rest of the group. He carefully unzipped the top of it and peered inside. "Ah hell…"

"What?" Clem hurried over just as Devlin held up the opened backpack.

"That's—"

"Our tomatoes!" yelled Sarah as she hurried over to look into the pack. "And there's cucumbers in here too. These weren't even ripe yet, you've wasted them!"

"You're a thief," accused Sin.

"I'm sorry!" repeated the intruder, sounding on the verge of tears now. "I've been on the road for days now and haven't found anything to eat. I was starving, and I saw this field, and I… I couldn't help it." Looking at the skinny, trembling young man, Clem had no trouble believing he was hungry.

"And you thought those crops just grew themselves in neat little rows?" asked Anthony from the roof. "You really didn't think anyone lived here?"

"I thought whoever was here probably wouldn't give me anything, and might even kill me just for asking," stated the intruder.

"We wouldn't have done that," insisted Clem.

"Which one? Not feed me or not kill me?"

"Both!" snapped Patty.

"Patty, stop," urged Sarah as she hurried back to the woman. "I should start putting those stitches in now, so hold still because… I've never done this before."

"Please stop reminding me." Patty took a deep breath and leaned back while Clem emptied the pack of their property. In doing so, she located a few other items: a lighter, a worn looking Swiss army knife, a pair of small binoculars, an empty canteen, and a pair of padlocks.

"What are these for?" asked Clem as she held up the locks.

"Locking stuff behind me whenever I go to sleep," answered the intruder.

"Does that mean you're alone?" asked Anthony.

"Yes," answered the intruder almost immediately. "Again, I'm sorry for everything, I was just stopping to get some water out of the lake when I noticed this pipe thing."

"Pipe?" said Clem.

"The irrigation channel," realized Sin.

"I could see where the dirt had been moved and followed that here. As soon as I saw that field, I just couldn't believe it," professed the intruder. "I should have been brave enough to just come up to your house, but I wasn't and—"

"Fuck!" Clem spun around in time to see Patty gritting her teeth as Sarah pulled a piece of thread through her thigh.

"Please, just let me go," begged the intruder. "You obviously won't help me after what I did, so I should just go."

"How do we know you're not going to just come back and steal from us later?" asked Sin.

"Because I don't want you people to kill me," stated the intruder. "I know that's what you're thinking about right now."

There was a tense silence as Clem looked at the others and found them all looking at each other for some kind of answer none of them had. Even Patty was looking aside in-between grunting from Sarah sewing up her leg.

"I see something." Everyone looked up at Anthony as he aimed his rifle. "There's… there's something by the lake."

"That's just my bike," announced the intruder.

"Anthony?"

"It looks like it's made out of metal, it could be a bike," reported Anthony as he lowered the rifle. "We should check it out."

"It's just a bike," insisted the intruder.

"Anthony, get down here; you and I will check it out." Anthony started climbing down while Devlin approached Patty. "How is she?"

"The stitches are done… I just hope I did them right," said Sarah as she wrapped Patty's leg with a bandage.

"It still hurts," mumbled Patty in a weak voice. "I… I don't think those painkillers work."

"They don't get rid of all the pain," informed a sympathetic Clem.

"Is… is she all right?" Patty glared at the intruder, who looked away in shame.

"I'm not a doctor," admitted Sarah. "But I think Patty will be okay."

"We can't just let this person go," Sin told Devlin. "Not after he almost killed Patty."

"For real," added Patty.

"What should we do?" challenged Jet. "Kill him?"

"Seems like we should do more than just let him go after he tried to steal from us and shot me," groused Patty as she climbed off the table. "Didn't you say something about putting people to work when they broke the rules in Tulsa?"

"We sure could use some help around here," said Anthony as he climbed off the ladder. "Seems like watering our crops is the least he could do after stealing some of them."

"We had a lot more people in Tulsa than we do here, and we mostly kept prisoners confined to buildings we had locked down," said Devlin. "Just the seven of us trying to keep track of him in a wide open space like this isn't a good idea for a lot of reasons."

"I agree," said Sin. "As much as I'd like him to repay the damage he did, it's not practical; he'd run away the first chance he gets, and there will be plenty of chances working in that field."

"Well… maybe he can repay us in another way," reasoned Patty. "If we can just make him regret what he did, make him feel a little of the pain he made me feel, then—"

"No," dictated Clem in a stern voice.

"Clem—"

"She said no," said Sarah in an even harsher tone.

"Why?" challenged Sin. "Punishing him's a better alternative to killing him."

"We're gonna punish him for being hungry and making a mistake?" asked Jet.

"A mistake that nearly killed me," said Patty. "This isn't like Valkaria, we caught this guy red-handed and—"

"I don't care," retorted Clem. "We're not doing anything like that to him."

"Like what?" Jet's question caused Clem to turn away from him. She looked to Sarah instead, who simply put a reassuring arm around her.

"Let's just focus on the now," reasoned Devlin before gesturing to Anthony. "Lock the gate until we get back. After we get a good look at his bike, we'll make a decision then."

Devlin and Anthony unlocked the gate and hurried towards the lake while Sin retrieved the machine gun from the Sunseeker so they'd have another weapon to guard their prisoner. Nobody said anything while they were waiting, even though it felt like they all wanted to. Patty was clearly still angry and looked like she was beating back the urge to yell at their captive. Sin's eyes made it clear he regarded the intruder with nothing but suspicion. Sarah and Jet looked nervous and unsure, which is how Clem felt right now.

The intruder himself was strangely quiet as he sat down on the grass, his filthy clothes hanging off his slender frame. He was obviously still nervous, but his face had shifted slightly. There was look of buried guilt biting at the corners of his eyes and a kind of anxious anticipation settling on his face the longer he sat there; he almost looked like Sarah when she was upset.

"Yo." Clem looked over and was surprised see Devlin and Anthony approaching the fence. She wasn't sure if they had returned very quickly or she had briefly lost track of time, but she hurried over to the gate and opened the lock, letting them back in. "Anything else happen while we were gone?"

"No," said Clem. "It was… quiet."

"What did you find?" asked Patty.

"Not much, it was just a bike," said Devlin.

"Like I told you," said the intruder.

"There were a few things on it; a helmet, sleeping bag, camping tent, an electric lantern, a couple of pots."

"Sauce pans," corrected Anthony.

"And this," said Devlin as he held up a worn notebook.

"That's just my journal," insisted the intruder.

"Everything is written in some kind of code," explained Devlin as he handed the book to Clem.

"I do that so no one can read it but me," insisted the intruder. "You're not the only ones worried about people finding you."

Clem cracked the book open and looked inside. They were numbers in the top corners of each page while the rest of the text was an odd series of what appeared to be unfinished squares and triangles with occasional dots in the middle. Clem could see a few numbers mixed in with the strange text, but the rest of it was unreadable to her.

"I understand you're just trying to be careful," said the intruder as Clem flipped through the pages. "That's why I pulled my gun when I saw that biter in your field. Again I'm… I'm so sorry I shot you," he said as he looked at Patty. "And I'm sorry for stealing, I was just so hungry."

"You really don't have anyone?" asked Jet.

"No," said the intruder. "You look like decent people, and I understand you don't want me here after what I did, so if you just let me go, then—"

"I've seen this before," announced Clem as she studied the text.

"You have?" asked Devlin.

"Yeah." Clem closed the book and handed it back to Devlin. "I'll be right back." Clem rushed out of the yard and towards the Brave. She hurried through the vehicle and retrieved their photo album. Flipping through the pages, she stopped on one page and carefully removed a photo from it. Returning to the others, she could see everyone gathered around the picnic table now, carefully studying the pages of the intruder's journal.

"It's definitely some kind of cipher," concluded Jet.

"Any chance you could figure out what it says?" asked Patty.

"If these are just substitutions for letters, I could probably brute force it just by guessing enough."

"Hold off on that," insisted Devlin. "I don't want us going through someone's journal unless they give us a good reason to first."

"What about this?" Clementine showed everyone the photo of the graffiti she had taken a picture of when she visited Pawhuska. She hadn't been sure at first, but seeing the photo placed by the journal, it was clear the symbols were a match for each other.

"Holy shit," said Patty as she looked at the photo. "I remember this, it was outside Pawhuska when we went looking for the backhoe."

"That was back in March," said Sin as he looked at the photo. "This was there then?"

"Yes," said Clem.

"It's a marking system," concluded Jet as he studied the photo. "Kind of like we were discussing."

"That means… no way this guy is alone," realized Anthony.

"He's a scout," concluded Clem as she looked through the journal again, realizing it was actually a log of some kind.

"A scout for who?" Sarah's question prompted Devlin to leap to his feet.

"You told us you were alone," said Devlin as he approached the intruder, who sat there in the grass, a defiant look on his face. "Who are you with?" The intruder didn't answer. "Have you ever heard of the Osage? Is that who you're with?" No answer. "What about Oklahoma City? Does that mean anything to you?" The intruder remained silent.

"We're gonna have to kill him," concluded Anthony.

"What? No!" objected Sarah.

"He's a damn spy or something," said Anthony.

"A scout isn't the same thing as a spy," argued Jet.

"And the evidence points to him better the latter," asserted Sin. "Since when do scouts write in code?"

"We've talked about doing the exact same thing!" yelled Jet.

"Not in code!"

"Yes we did, you even said we needed a better code!" argued Jet. "And now you're saying we should kill him for doing the same thing?"

"How about we kill him because he's just sitting there quietly now, like he knows we can see through his lies?" Patty's words caused everyone to look at the intruder, who was indeed just sitting on the dirt, staring down at the grass. "You said we looked like decent people a minute ago; if you really believed that then you wouldn't mind explaining this stuff to us."

"We know there's bad groups of people out there, we've all had run-ins with them by now," said Devlin in a calm voice as he knelt down to look the intruder in the eyes. "Believe us, we're not one of them, we just want to know we're gonna be safe here if we let you go."

The intruder still refused to answer Devlin.

"We can't let him go," asserted Sin.

"We can't just kill him either," argued Jet.

"We're not killing anyone," insisted Sarah.

"Then what?" asked Patty. "I don't see a lot of options."

"We lock him up," Devlin's proclamation shook everyone, including the intruder, whose defiant facade cracked slightly upon hearing that.

"What's the point of that?" asked Anthony.

"The point is it gives us time to figure out a better option," said Devlin as he stood up.

"Where are we going to keep him?" asked Sin.

"The storm shelter," suggested Anthony.

"It can't be locked from the outside," reminded Sin.

"The shed then, we can lock it from the outside," asserted Devlin as he approached Jet. The boy seemed hesitant to hand Devlin the pistol, but did so anyway. "Unless you feel like telling us something," said Devlin as he approached the intruder, casually branding the gun in one hand.

The intruder looked up, fearful of Devlin, then started back down at the grass. He stood up and started moving forward towards the shed, and Clem followed just behind them, with all the others following just behind her. Devlin pulled open the door to shed, revealing the small collection of tools piled up inside.

"Anthony, watch him for a second while I clear it out," said Devlin as he entered the shed. "The last thing we need is to come open the shed and he stabs us with something sharp."

Watching Devlin meticulously collect every last thing the intruder could use for a weapon while he looked on in terror at his new cell made Clem fell sick as memories of being locked in a shed herself came flooding back. And despite her guilt, the first thing she thought to do was look at the ground to see if the intruder could dig under the wall. Clem was relieved to see there was a concrete foundation, but looking at the intruder himself, she could see he was focusing on the bloodstain on the pavement.

"That's from a deer," Clem whispered to the intruder. "We're not gonna hurt you, really." Clem's tone betrayed her words, as she couldn't say for sure what the others would inevitably decide on. Devlin finished cleaning out their spare fishing rods, leaving four wooden walls and a cold, blood-stained concrete floor.

"All right, go on." The intruder hesitated before moving, his knees shaking as he walked forward, desperately trying to keep his balance as he stepped past the threshold.

"Look, maybe you don't want to talk to us because you're afraid we'll do something to your people, and you're worried you'll say the wrong thing. If that's it, just take the night to think about what you do or don't trust us with," explained Devlin as the intruder turned around. "We'll be doing the same." The intruder didn't answer Devlin and just stared down at the floor again, his look of defiance now replaced with a pitiful look of hopelessness. Watching Devlin close the door and lock the shed, Clem had to resist the urge to throw-up.

"This is stupid," said Sin in a hushed voice as they all walked away from the shed. "Keeping him here is dangerous, for all of us."

"What are we supposed to do?" asked an annoyed Jet. "Just kill him right now?"

"Not right now, and we sure as hell shouldn't be talking about killing him to his damn face," said Devlin as he turned to Anthony and Patty. "That was real stupid of you two."

"Are you serious?" asked Patty as she crossed her arms. "You're worried about scaring the person who shot me?"

"I'm worried about him being scared enough to try something desperate the next time we open that shed," informed Devlin in a biting tone. "If someone thinks they're gonna die, there's no telling what they'll do."

"So it's better to pretend like we're not gonna kill someone so they won't see it coming when we do?" asked Anthony in a way that Clem couldn't be sure was sarcastic or not.

"In a sense; yes," stated Devlin bluntly. "And for now, we're not killing anyone."

"What if his people come looking for him while we have him captive?" suggested Sin. "Then what?"

"What if they come and we've killed him?" retorted Devlin. "I know I'd look more harshly on that then holding someone prisoner."

"If we killed him we could deny him ever being here," reasoned Sin.

"Granddad!" scolded Jet.

"I don't know how else you think this will end," shrugged Sin. "Even if he starts talking to us tomorrow, would any of us believe him?"

"It depends on what he says," argued Sarah. "I don't know how all of you can act like you already know him when we don't even know who he is."

"He nearly killed me, so I don't feel like giving him the benefit of the doubt right now," retorted Patty. "And I doubt Clementine does either, right Clem?"

"Huh?" said Clem as she looked away from the shed.

"I was just saying, you don't trust this person, right?"

"I… I don't know," said Clem as she turned back to the shed. "But… we should give him a blanket, that way he won't get too cold tonight."

"Are you fucking serious?" asked Anthony in disbelief. "He steals from us, shoots Patty, and you want to treat him like a guest?"

"I don't want him to spend all night freezing in a crappy shed," retorted Clem in a harsh tone. "There's no windows on it, he'll need a light too. And he's probably still hungry so—"

"Now we're giving him food?" asked Anthony.

"If you won't I will!" declared Clem as she marched towards the shed.

"I'll get him some basic necessities," assured Devlin as he intercepted Clem. "His bike already had a bedroll and a lantern on it, he can have those. Anthony, go bring his bike back."

"We—"

"If his people come looking for him, then seeing that bike might be a dead giveaway he's nearby, and if he followed the irrigation channel right to us so could they," explained Devlin. "Best keep him and the bike here for the time being."

Anthony made a face, then headed out of the gate.

"We're not giving him food though," declared Sin.

"You don't get to make that decision," stated Jet.

"Then who does?" challenged Sin.

"We all do," insisted Sarah. "And I think we should give him something to eat."

"Me too," said Clem.

"And I make three," added Jet.

"Well Sin, Anthony, and me make three no's," counted Patty. "That leaves Devlin."

"Devlin, you want to give him food, right?" asked Sarah.

"I—"

"If we give him food and then he gets away, he'll return to his people and tell him we have enough to hand out even to people we take prisoner," interjected Sin. "What do you think they would do with this information?"

"If his people are just looking for an easy score, then the field he already saw is reason enough to attack us," argued Devlin. "Giving him an extra meal on top of that probably won't change anything if he's just out looking for targets, but if he's with decent people then it might just help convince them not to judge us too harshly for holding him for a while. He might also feel more like talking on a full stomach. Besides, we got plenty of cans of stuff, we can—"

"Not a can," interrupted Sarah. "Let's just give him the tomatoes and cucumbers he already took. There probably too small to get good seeds out of so we might as well let him have them. This way he might think we only have the farm to live off of, and won't think we have a bunch of canned stuff stored up too."

Clem was surprised by that suggestion. Not because she disagreed with it, but just because Sarah was the one making it.

"Any other suggestions?" asked Devlin.

"We should put those key holders on our vehicles, today, and make sure we all know where to look if we have to get into one," insisted Sin. "And we should repark our vehicles so they're facing out towards the gate. If anyone comes for him, we might have to leave in a hurry."

"I'll try to decipher the journal," volunteered a reluctant Jet. "Maybe it'll tell us more about him."

"Anything else?" asked Devlin.

"Yeah, let's move Buster to in front of the shed and take his helmet off."

"Patty," groaned Clem.

"Oh don't look at me like that," she said. "It's easy to be forgiving when I can walk off what he did, but what if he had shot me in the chest, or hell, what if you had been carrying Omid and he shot—"

"Omid!" exclaimed Clem. "I forgot all about him!" Clem bolted into the house with the furious pace of Sarah's footsteps following right behind her. They both arrived at the door to Omid's room at the same time, and they both saw the boy curled up in the corner of his crib, crying softly.

"Oh Omid," said Clem as she reached down to grab him. "I'm so—"

"Nooo!" yelled Omid as he flailed free of Clem's grip.

"He's mad at us," concluded a guilt-ridden Sarah.

"Of course he is," sighed Clem. "I just left him in his crib all alone when I went out to get water." Clem picked up Omid, which provoked more flailing and angry crying. "I'll try to calm him down," said Clem as she patted Omid's back as he cried.

"I'll get him some ice-cream from the Brave, that usually helps." Sarah ran out of the room while Clem carried the still bawling Omid over to the window.

"Come on now, it's okay, I'm here now," insisted Clem as she patted Omid on the back. "It's okay. It's oh…" Clem watched as Anthony rolled the intruder's bike into the yard. "It'll be okay," said Clem as she watched Devlin collect the bedroll and lantern in one hand while clutching a gun in the other as he approached the shed.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 75 - Contingencies

"Can you see anything?" asked Jet as he pressed his flashlight up against the rain barrel.

"Not really." Clem moved in closer, hoping to see through the plastic just enough to know if there was any water inside or not. "I don't see anything, the plastic is too dark."

"Well, maybe if look in through the vent I can tell," reasoned Jet as he stood on the edge of the bench supporting the water barrels.

"Why did Sin use black barrels anyway?" asked Clem.

"He said he wanted to keep algae from growing inside, and blocking out the sun was the best way to do that," said Jet as he looked down one of the vent pipes. "But he said if he builds another collector on the other side of the field, then he'd include a couple of white barrels in the middle so we'd know how much water is in there."

As Jet tried to find out if there was water or not in the upper barrels of the collector, Clem stepped aside and approached the barn door. Heading inside, she looked up at the blue tarps Devlin and Sin had painstakingly rigged up to replace the missing roof. Sin had originally planned to create a water collector by stringing up tarps before they had found Ceres Acres, so using those to repair the barn wasn't too difficult. Still, Clem couldn't stop herself from noticing the bent and torn metal near the top of the walls and wonder what an even worse storm would do to their tiny farm.

"Okay, there's water in there," said Jet as Clem hurried back outside.

"You can see it?" asked Clem as she watched Jet hop off the bench.

"No, but I put my ear up to the barrel and slapped it, and I can hear water sloshing around. The top barrels definitely have water in them."

"Great, that means the new roof worked," concluded Clem. "And it rained all night, so we should have plenty of water."

"Yeah, now let's just hope there will be enough pressure for the whole field this time." Jet turned a large valve on the center of a pipe running in front of the collector, then hurried over to the small pipe running across the short side of the field, Clem following right behind him. They split up and started turning a series of smaller valves running under this pipe. Turning the last valve, Clem moved through the wooden fence and started following one of the soaker hoses across the field. Leaning down, Clem could already see where water was seeping through the hose and moistening the dirt the corn was planted in; it was working.

Moving down the row, checking to make sure the hose was still working, Clem was surprised by how tall the corn had gotten. Already it was coming up to about her stomach, and she suspected it wouldn't be too much longer before it was taller than her. She couldn't see any developing ears of corn yet, but she did notice the long vines twisting their way up the bean poles planted between the stalks. Clem concluded it wouldn't be long before they needed to wrap them around the corn stalks like Sarah originally planned.

Continuing to check the dirt as she moved, Clem's optimism dimmed as she noticed the soil grew steadily less damp until it was eventually just dry. Kneeling down for a better look, Clem could see there was still a tiny trickle of water seeping out of the hose a bit further back only to stop entirely just beyond that. Standing up, Clem could see Jet on the opposite end of the field, likely noticing the same thing. Carefully maneuvering past corn stalks and around cucumber cages, Clem met Jet in the center of the field, looking as disappointed as she felt.

"It stopped halfway, didn't it?" Clem nodded at Jet. "Dammit. I was hoping the first time it only went halfway because the tornado tore off the roof before the barrels could be filled, and so there wasn't enough pressure. But they're definitely almost full this time and—"

"It's not enough for the whole field."

Jet sighed. "Granddad said that probably was the problem. He also said if we parked the semitrailers on the other side of the field, he and Devlin could probably use tarps to rig up some kind of roof over there and build another rainwater collector if he gets some stuff from Tulsa at the beginning of May. If we had that then—"

"We wouldn't have to water half the field today," the pessimism in Clem's voice brought a weary frown to Jet's lips. Going to fill their watering cans, Clem could hear the backhoe off in the distance. Just looking over from the pond, she could see a long ditch leading off towards the lake. Clem wasn't sure how long it would take for Sin to finish the ditch, but it hardly seemed to matter since finishing it wouldn't stop them from having to hand water the rest of the field. It would assure they'd always have water for the crops, but right now that sounded more like a form of punishment in itself.

Lugging a couple of full watering cans across half the field, painstakingly watering each and every plant, stopping to pull up any loose weeds growing between them, then waking up and doing it again tomorrow was maddening. It also got a little worse every day as they inched towards summer. It was only mid-April so far and even with a hat keeping the sun off her face, Clem found herself working up a sweat shortly after starting this daily chore.

Checking the lettuce plants, Clem found a small slug resting in the shade of a leaf full of small holes. Sarah and Anthony had been routinely checking the crops for pests in the early morning, but apparently they had missed one. Clem grimaced, then squished the pest beneath her shoe. Pulling her foot back and looking at the mess of goo that used to be a slug, Clem felt a tinge of guilt. The slug just wanted something to eat, but then, so did Clem and the others, and there probably wasn't enough to share.

Worse than slugs had been birds. Looking at the trees surrounding the farm, Clem couldn't see them, but she knew they were out there. There was usually at least a few crows waiting for them every morning that needed to be chased off and it wasn't uncommon for them to show up in the middle of the day while everyone was away from the field during lunch. Sarah had assembled a crude scarecrow from a beanpole, an old shirt, and upside down bucket with a scary face drawn on it; the crows weren't afraid of it.

Hands throbbing, lungs aching for air, sweat pouring down her face, Clem finally reached the end of the last row full of wheat that she thought looked like tall grass. With the last plant watered, Clem dropped the watering can and collapsed onto the dirt while taking several deep breaths, something that was quickly becoming a tradition for her after watering the field.

Looking over, Clem could see Jet leaning against one of the fence posts, likely exhausted himself. She slowly stood up, planning to go over and talk to them, only for him to start moving back across the field. Following him, Clem watched as Jet returned to the pond and filled his watering can.

"You're not done yet?"

"Huh?" said Jet as he turned around. "No, well yeah, but I still gotta water the apple trees."

"Oh yeah, how are they doing?"

"Umm… okay."

"Only okay?"

"After the storm, one of them was… bent."

"I'm sorry." Noticing Jet looked worried, Clem decided to go with him to check the saplings. Heading down the driveway, the pair quickly returned to the trio of tiny trees planted far off to the side. Examining the saplings as Jet watered them, Clem noticed all three of them had fewer leaves on them then when they planted them, and the few leaves left on the far right tree were brown and shriveled. Looking closer, she also saw this tree had a large split running along its thin truck and a piece of rope tying it to a beanpole.

"It's dead," concluded Jet.

"Maybe—"

"It is. Its leaves have just kept shriveling since the tornado," explained Jet as he set the watering can down. "Sarah told me if I tied the trunk back together, it might be okay, but I guess it was too little too late."

"I'm sorry." Clem looked at the suffering little tree, then went to pick up the watering can.

"What are you doing? It's—"

"Are you sure it's dead?" asked Clem as she picked up the can.

"It looks like it's dying."

"But are you sure?"

"Well… no. But—"

"Then we should keep taking care of it until we are sure," said Clem as she watered the tree. "I mean, we're already out here."

"That makes sense. I'll make sure to put up beanpoles before a storm next time… if I had done that last time this tree would be okay right now."

"Did Sarah tell you that? That sounds like something she would say."

"No, it's just simple physics; reinforcing them would have protected them against the wind." Jet sighed, then looked over at Clem. "How is Sarah? I haven't seen her much lately."

"I haven't either," admitted Clem.

"Really?"

"Usually just in the morning, at lunch, and when we go to bed. Patty gave her this bottle of sleeping pills, different from the xanax, and Sarah said they help her at night, but she still spends all day working on stuff."

"Just like all of us…" concluded Jet as he looked out on the road as the Brave and Anthony's truck approached from the edge of the forest.

"I thought Patty and Anthony got back a while ago," said Clem. "Weren't they just going to get diesel and look for stuff to fix the roof?"

"Something must have gone wrong. Come on, let's get the gate." Jet sprinted for the fence and Clem followed. They each grabbed half the gate and pulled it open so the vehicles could drive inside. Shutting the gate behind them, Clem went with Jet as he raced up to the Brave's door.

"Patty," said Jet as the woman came stomping out, an irritated look on her face. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Power poles," she griped as she crossed her arms.

"Power poles?" repeated Clem.

"And your occasional tree, don't forget those," added Anthony as he hopped out of his truck. "All over the fucking road."

"That storm knocked over and blew around all kinds of stuff. I mean, you know how we found our barn's roof halfway between here and the lake?" Clem nodded at Patty. "Yeah, well, imagine crap like that all over the place."

"And since there's no post-apocalyptic road crews, me and her were stuck clearing the roads from here to the nearest gas station," griped Anthony.

"With a chainsaw and whatever tools we had on hand," added Patty. "And we could barely get that chainsaw to work, so it was mostly whatever non-gas powered tools we had."

"Our trash got to spend an extra couple hours stinking up my camper in the hot sun," moaned Anthony. "That's something they never cover in these end of the world stories: what the people who survive do with their garbage. Apparently, they get chumps like me to haul it off once every two weeks."

"I'm sorry," said Clem. "I didn't even think about how the roads could be blocked from the storm."

"Just item number six-hundred and twelve on the list of shit we've had to fix because of that damn tornado," grumbled Patty. "Oh, and speaking of which, I think I did manage to scrounge up enough stuff to fix the holes in the roof, and I could use a hand bringing them in."

"And kid, why don't you grab a couple of these," Anthony told Jet as he removed a pair of diesel cans from his camper. "Your old man has been burning through this stuff pretty fast trying to get that damn ditch finished."

"He's not my old man," argued Jet as he grabbed a couple of cans.

Clem helped Patty offload the supplies she found for the roof, which took longer than she anticipated because they had to dig through whatever was stuffed in the Brave's exterior bins just to reach them. Even after unpacking the food and other goods they had stored inside, the bins were still full of auto components and other items they hadn't needed yet. Pushing a battery aside, Clem noticed a big container of bright red liquid.

"This isn't fruit juice, is it?" Pulling the container closer, Clem unscrewed the cap and noticed it had a sweet, almost cherry like smell.

"Whoa, don't touch that!" Patty inserted herself between Clem and the container and hastily screwed the cap back on. "That's anti-freeze," she said as she turned the bottle around to reveal the label. "You drink that and it would kill you."

"Really?" asked Clem. "Why does it smell so good then?"

"Anti-freeze just smells good for some stupid reason, supposedly tastes good too," explained Patty as she pushed the container back into the bin. "We used to have a dog when I was a kid that got into a bottle anti-freeze, started puking and shitting everywhere and… by the time we thought to take him to a vet the next day, it was too late."

"It died?"

"Yeah." Patty grabbed a few tubes of caulk, then closed the compartment. "So, best just keep away from anti-freeze, okay?"

"Okay." Clem grabbed a couple of bags full of roof tiles while Patty toted caulk, a bucket full of nails, and a container of something called roofing cement. Moving into the yard, they met up with Devlin, who had recently finished building a short wall behind the storm shelter's hatch to keep the wind from blowing it shut like last time. Clem also met up with Omid, who had been 'helping' build the wall, according to Devlin.

Since it was close to noon already and the others would be back soon, the group set out everything they needed for lunch. Their grills had been broken in the storm and Clem didn't feel like fussing with the wood stove in the kitchen, so she and Patty put together a meal with things that didn't need to be heated. With all but one person arriving, Clem found herself once again going to fetch Sarah.

Heading around the side of the main house, Clem passed into the recently rebuilt greenhouse. Sin had patched the material the tent was made out of as best as he could while Devlin had cut and welded fence posts in a few places to replace broken legs and other parts of the frame. The whole thing looked rickety but was still standing. The potted plants Sarah had to replace herself, and she was still tending to them when Clem went to fetch her.

Returning to the group, they all ate their lunch quietly, except Omid who rarely did anything quietly. The last couple of weeks had been more taxing than usual and meals were usually more a source of quiet solidarity than conversation lately. But as the group finished eating and started cleaning up, Devlin and Patty exchanged glances then turned to the others.

"All right," started Patty. "Before we all get back to work, Devlin and I wanted to discuss a few things with everyone."

"What things?" asked Clem.

"Just some precautions we should have ready for the future," said Devlin.

"Like getting some of those little magnet boxes for car keys and put them all under the doors of our vehicles so we can make a fast getaway," said Jet. "We still need to get those."

"And some fire extinguishers," added Sin.

"We moved Patty's shotgun and a pistol into the downstairs closet," said Clem. "That way we can protect the house if something happens."

"Don't forget about the grenade," added an apprehensive Sarah. "I didn't like having them on the Brave, now I'm worried one will blow up the house too."

"I wouldn't," advised Sin. "Munitions aren't my field of expertise, but I know grenades are functionally the same as bullets in basic design, just with different trigger mechanisms. The odds of one exploding before pulling the pin are likely equivalent to that of a bullet going off without a gun."

"What are the odds of us getting blown away while living in tornado central?" asked an unsettled Anthony.

"This isn't tornado central," insisted Patty.

"How would you know?"

"Because if it was, we would have had to clean up the roads long before today," stated Patty. "Clearly there hasn't been a storm like that in the region since shit got bad or there would have been plenty of power poles and trees and shit lying in our way when we got here."

"Maybe whoever lived here last cleaned them up before they skipped town," suggested Anthony.

"Then we would have seen power poles and other stuff on the side of the road because that's where you and I left them," insisted Patty. "Clearly there hasn't been tornadoes tearing through here the whole time or we would have found some pretty big clues when we got here."

"Yeah, it'll be okay Anthony," urged a concerned Sarah. "We know to keep a lookout now if a storm happens."

"Don't remind me," mumbled Anthony. "I was up half last night watching the trees through the window of my camper, worried the wind would get bad the second I went to bed. I'm really not feeling too good about this place anymore."

"We talked about this," said Sin. "If we left now we'd lose all the work we've put into the farm and have nothing to show for it."

"And we've taken precautions in case another tornado happens," added Patty. "Devlin made sure we won't have to open a hatch against the wind again and we put some basic necessities in the shelter."

"That isn't what we wanted to discuss anyway," said Devlin. "Patty and I wanted to talk about what to do if something happened and we got separated from each other."

"Like what?" asked Jet, sounding worried. "What could happen?"

"And why wouldn't we just come back here?" asked a disturbed Sarah.

"Yeah, did you two see something?" asked Clem, frightened there was a new threat she hadn't anticipated.

"Wah-wah," ordered Omid from his high chair.

"Let's not get into the why right now," suggested a weary Patty as Clem got Omid some water. "We haven't seen anything you guys haven't, but after the tornado we realized we don't have a plan in place in case something ever happened to the farm and we had to leave."

"So we figured we should work one out," said Devlin. "While we're all still together."

Clem handled Omid his sippy cup and watched him take a drink before turning back to the group. "So what do we do?" asked Clem, nervous to the answer. "If something happens and we have to leave, where should we go?"

"Shouldn't we return to Tulsa?" reasoned Sin. "We left a lot of food there, probably enough to live a year off of."

"Actually we thought we should have a meeting place close by, in case we ever have to flee the farm, like if a herd came in and we got split up," said Devlin. "There's an old motel on the edge of Pawhuska. Going from here to town on the main road, it's the first thing you find after crossing a bridge to get into town. It has a big sign out front that says Economy Inn, you couldn't miss it. We figured if there's some kind of emergency, we could all meet there or at least leave a message for each other on where to go next."

"Which would probably just be Tulsa if Pawhuska is no good," said Patty. "Still plenty of food there after all."

"But, as I found out the hard way, a lot can change while you're away," said Devlin before taking a deep breath. "We need to have a plan now in case something happens to what's left of Tulsa while we're out here."

"So we need a plan in case our backup plan fails?" asked Anthony. "This is giving me a headache just thinking about this. Can we do this some other time, like when I'm not really tired?"

"This won't take long and it's not complicated," said Devlin. "None of us have any real leads or ideas left where to go, so if we can't stay here or in Tulsa we're gonna have to just pick a direction and hope for the best right?"

No one said anything but Clem noticed a look of resigned acceptance amongst the group; they truly were without any hopes beyond this one.

"Yeah, I didn't think anyone had any new ideas," said Patty with a sigh. "We haven't had any luck on the gulf or the parts of the east coast we've seen, so me and Devlin figured our best bet at this point is just to head west, and looking at a map, Interstate Eighty is the best way to get there."

"Interstate Eighty?" said Clem.

"It runs across the entire country, starting in New Jersey and ending in San Fransisco," explained Devlin. "From here, it's just a drive north across Kansas and into Nebraska to reach the interstate, then we can go west."

"But why would we want to go to this interstate at all?" asked Jet.

"The Eighty runs through eleven states and a lot of cities, big and small," said Patty. "At this point, finding anything worth finding is a numbers game, and the eighty will probably give us the most chances of success."

"And if we ever became separated, we might have a chance of finding each other again if we all stick to one road," added Devlin with a hint of concern. "Especially with the marking system me and Patty worked out."

"Marking system?" asked Jet.

"Well really it's more your idea," Patty told Jet. "I remembered when you told me you wrote your last name on the pavement and circled the N's to let your parents know you were going north."

"Wait, what?" Sin turned to Jet. "You left signs for people to follow us?"

"At a gas station in Louisiana… and a couple of times after that," stated a sheepish Jet. "I figured we had to do something in case mom and dad ever made it back here and came looking for us, but I didn't know which road we would take out of Texarkana before we left, so I stopped doing it, and I could only tell them we're going north or south with my last name."

"Well with us all knowing to stay on the eighty, that would take care of that first problem," said Patty. "And for the second one, Devlin was figuring if we did get separated, we could write 'Owens' on road signs along the eighty and mark letters to tell the others which direction we were going in.

"Like, if we're going to get off the interstate and go northwest, you could write Owens on the sign nearest a turnoff and make a little mark over the 'n' and 'w'. That way, if one of us ever gets split up and only catch up later, they at least got an idea of which way the rest of us went."

"I don't know about this," said Sin. "This isn't exactly a complicated code system; someone could easily figure it out and follow us if we did this."

"It's just an idea," said Patty. "If you can come up with something better just let us know, but Devlin and I wanted to bring it up now before anything else unexpected happened."

"This way we'd at least have a chance of finding each other again," added Devlin in a melancholy tone. "I can't speak for all of you, but personally I've lost enough people myself, and would hate to lose any of you."

A small hush briefly fell over the table before Patty opened her mouth to speak. "Any of you got any questions, or suggestions even?"

Everyone looked around at each other to see if anyone had anything to add, and Clem suddenly realized she had a question.

"I get that it has all the letters for all the different directions," said Clem. "But why are we using that name, Owens?"

"We figured we should use one of our names," said Patty. "Other's would look at it and not know what to think, but the rest of us would know what it means."

"I don't know what it means," said Sarah.

"Yeah, me either," added Jet.

"Who's Owens?" asked Clem.

"I am," answered a surprised Patty. "That's my last name."

"I never knew that," said Clem.

"Really? I swear I've mentioned it before." Most of the group gave Patty a look that made it clear they hadn't heard her last name before. "Well… now you all know."

"Wait, does that mean your full name is Patricia Owens?" Patty groaned and rolled her eyes in response to Sin's question. "Like—"

"Yes like the actor I never heard of but everyone over fifty always has. Ugh, this is why I never mentioned it, it was a subconscious attempt to avoid answering that question," rambled Patty. "Is there anything else?"

"Oh, this isn't about our plan." Clem turned to Sarah. "You wanted me to tell you if I ever found any pests; I found a slug on the lettuce today."

"There's just going to be more of them as it gets hotter, especially when it rains," groaned Sarah as turned to the rest of the group. "I need some beer."

"What?" exclaimed Clem as Patty raised an eyebrow.

"Sarah, I don't think slugs are bad enough to develop a drinking problem over."

"I'm not, I just need to make traps for slugs before they get out of control and eat everything," explained Sarah.

"And… you need beer to do that?" asked a confused Clem.

"Yes, I read slugs like beer, so if you pour some in the bottom of a cup and put the cup on the ground, they'll try to drink it but fall in and drown."

"Huh," said Anthony. "Who knew slugs were such hopeless alcoholics?"

"I'll dig you out some beer," assured Devlin. "I'll probably need one myself before I start working on the roof."

"I should get back to work on the irrigation ditch," said Sin as he picked up his yellow earmuffs from the table. "Now that we have more diesel, I can hopefully get the bulk of it dug out over the next few days, put in the floodgates the day after, then we can get started on another rainwater collector."

"You still want me and Anthony to put the pipe in the sections you've dug out, right?" asked Jet.

"You remember what I told you about placing them when Devlin got them out of the trailer yesterday evening?" Jet nodded at Sin. "Good, be sure to bring a couple of shovels in case you need to even out the trench to make them fit. With a little over half the ditch dug, you should have plenty of work to keep you busy today."

"That's a relief," mumbled Anthony. "And here I was worrying that we'd eventually run out of work someday."

"Speaking of which, I should get started on those traps," said Sarah as she stood up. "I should get some out before tonight to see if they work, and I've got a lot of stuff I need to get done in the greenhouse."

"Bree-bree," said Omid.

"Read," Clem told him. "You want me to read you something?"

"Ree-ree," said Omid.

"I guess that leaves me and you to fix the roof," Devlin told Patty.

"Ugh, just, give me a minute to catch my breath," pleaded Patty. "I'm still reeling from having to improvise solutions to all those damn power poles."

"That's fine, I gotta fetch that beer for Sarah anyway," said Devlin as he headed into the house.

Glancing over at Patty, Clem could tell she was tired, even more tired than usual around lunch time. Moving to pick up Omid, Clem paused, then turned back to Patty.

"I could help out with the roof," suggested Clem.

"Oh, would you?" asked a visibly relieved Patty. "That would—"

"If you do the watering tomorrow morning so I get to watch Omid."

"That sounds fair; you gotta deal." Patty groaned as she stood up and went to pick up Omid. "Come on little man, I'll give you all the story time you want."

"Ree-ree," said Omid as Patty toted him inside.

Clem waited for Devlin to return and informed him she would be his helper for fixing the roof. Like a lot of chores, repairing the roof of the house wasn't hard, just tedious. Even locating the leaks was a slow, dull process. Despite being incredibly familiar with every one of them last night as she had to put out buckets to catch the rain dripping in, Clem had trouble pinpointing those same locations while on top of the same roof.

Eventually, after some trial and error using a watering can while Clem watched from inside the house, the pair had located all the leaks, or at least all the ones Clem was aware of. Devlin handled the bulk of the repair work; scrapping up shingles, caulking gaps, hammering nails, spreading roofing cement. Clem did her best to be an ideal carpenter's assistant, giving Devlin everything he needed as he asked for, getting rid of broken shingles, and heading back down the ladder to fetch anything they needed.

With plenty of time to talk anytime Devlin wasn't using a hammer, Clem asked how he knew to do stuff like this and Devlin said he actually learned it all in Tulsa. There was always something that needed building or repairing and never enough hands to do it, so Devlin volunteered and after some bumbling, started to learn the basics of being a handyman. Clem told Devlin that was like cooking for her, she had gotten a lesson once and had to figure out the rest on her own. Devlin told Clem she was a great chef, and Clem told Devlin he was a great handyman.

The pair finished the roof of the main house in the late afternoon and moved onto Devlin's guest house next, hoping to fix the leaks in his roof before nightfall. While waiting for Devlin's next command, Clem noticed Sarah leaving the greenhouse and heading out past the fence. She assumed she was going to check something in the field, but went past the barn and kept going right into the forest beyond.

"Yo, Clem." Clem looked over at Devlin. "Caulk gun?"

"Oh, right," said Clem as she grabbed the caulk gun. "Sorry."

"It's a'ight," said Devlin as he took the tool. "You okay? You look like there's something on your mind."

"I was wondering where Sarah was going just now," said Clem.

"Why don't you go find out?" suggested Devlin.

"What about the roof?"

"I'm almost done and can handle the rest on my own," assured Devlin. "Why don't you go ahead and clock out early?"

Devlin smiled at Clem and she smiled back at him. "Thanks."

"No problem." Clem climbed down off the roof and headed across the field. She found Jet and Sin near the edge of the pond working on something attached to a thick black pipe, possibly its future floodgate. She asked if they had seen Sarah and they said they saw her heading towards the lake. Clem followed a path of destroyed trees through the forest, eventually passing the backhoe that destroyed them and emerging on the lake's shore.

She didn't see Sarah herself, but Clem quickly located her clothes neatly laid out on a towel resting by the water. Before she could investigate further, there was a loud splash and Clem looked over in time to see Sarah pop out of the lake like a fish leaping out of the water. She was wearing a bright blue and green swimsuit and had goggles covering her eyes instead glasses. She shook her head back and forth a few times, sending water flying from her hair, then looked over at the shore.

"Oh, hi Clem," she greeted with a friendly smile.

"Hey," said a slightly confused Clem. "What are you doing in the lake?"

"Swimming."

"Do you think that's safe?" asked a concerned Clem. "I mean, there could be a walker at the bottom of the lake. Devlin told us about how there were walkers in the river at Tulsa that people couldn't see before we lured a bunch more in there."

"I think it's okay," assured Sarah, not sounding worried. "Anthony told me there's always fish in the traps around here, and he said when he was in Gulf Port, the fish never went to spots where a walker was underwater."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he said he knew someone whose traps stopped catching fish for a week, and then one time while pulling up the cages, they felt something pull back and found out a walker was down there. Once they killed it and it got rid of its body, the fish came back."

"Really?" Clem looked down at the water. "And Anthony brought back fish yesterday."

"Yeah, so it's safe," said Sarah. "You should come swimming with me."

"I don't have a swimsuit."

"You don't?"

"No," said Clem. "Where did you get one?"

"Tulsa."

"You packed that when we were staying in Tulsa?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"In case I ever wanted to go swimming," explained Sarah with a shrug. "You never got a swimsuit in all those times you went clothes shopping?"

"No…"

"Well, I guess you can't come swimming then."

Watching Sarah turn around and dive back into the water, Clem found herself suddenly spellbound by her friend's every movement. The way she swam was graceful yet playful and Clem found herself envious of Sarah's strong legs so easily propelling her forward through the water. Stopping to catch her breath, Sarah was briefly surrounded by a heavenly orange glow as the sun reflected off of her slick skin and hair. Seeing this, Clem felt an inexplicable and overwhelming urge to join Sarah in the lake, right now.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah as she noticing Clem kicking off her shoes.

"Going swimming." Clem yanked off her socks as fast as she could.

"You can't go swimming in your clothes," said Sarah as Clem tossed off her hat and pulled the tie out of her hair. "You'll wreck them and it's no fun swimming in—Clem!"

Clem dropped her pants, tossed off her shirt, and rushed right towards the lake. A gust of wind felt refreshing against her tender sunburnt skin and the cool water of the lake felt even better as it chased away the unforgiving heat. With mud between her toes and water rushing past her thighs, Clem closed her eyes and fell forward, letting the lake envelop her. A sense of tranquility briefly overcame Clem as she drifted weightlessly in the wet void for a few seconds, then she stood up and rejoined the world above the water.

"Clem!" spoke Sarah in an urgent whisper. "You're in your underwear."

"So?" retorted Clem with a devilish smirk.

"So, aren't you embarrassed?"

"It's just you here," shrugged Clem. "And you see me in my underwear all the time when we go to bed. This… this isn't bothering you, is it?"

"No, it's just if it was me, I'd be really embarrassed right now."

"It's too hot to be embarrassed today." Clem leaned back into the water, letting herself rest on the surface of the lake as it bobbed up and down below her; she briefly wondered if this is what it felt like to sleep on a waterbed.

"I know what you mean," said Sarah as she leaned back into the water herself. "It gets really hot in the greenhouse, and it's still only April."

"How is the greenhouse?"

"Okay, I think. Devlin did a good job putting it back up and fixing it, and now I know to bring everything inside if it storms, but…"

"You're worried about another storm anyway."

"And a million other things," admitted Sarah with a sigh. "I was boiling water earlier and was thinking about what'll happen when we run out of propane and can't use that handy burner thing anymore."

"We'll probably have to use that wood stove in the kitchen," said Clem. "We haven't had a chance to refill the Brave's propane tank, so I've been trying to use it to cook meals since the storm, but it's a lot different from the grills that got wrecked. It took forever to cook fish on it the other day. I was hoping Patty would bring back a new grill today but they were too busy just clearing out the roads."

"We're lucky the burner was inside when the storm hit. Still, once we're out of propane it'll be useless, and so will the Brave's stove and hot water heater."

"We can find more propane," said Clem as she stood up, struggling to find her footing on the slippery lakebed. "There was plenty of propane we didn't take back in Tulsa."

"Yeah, but eventually that'll run out too and there won't be any left," said Sarah as she stood up to look at Clem. "The same is true for salt and sugar. We got tons from Tulsa, but it'll run out one day and we can't make more."

"How did people make any of this stuff before?"

"Salt comes from mines or ocean water, neither of which are close by. Sugar is something people got from plants they grew."

"So, we can grow our own sugar at least?" asked Clem.

"Maybe…"

"Maybe?"

"Well, sugar cane is where most sugar came from, but all the books I read said it only grows in tropical areas and you need lots of water."

"How much water?"

"Tons, like enough to flood the land it grows on." Clem found her arms stinging just thinking about trying to carry that much water. "The other thing people grew were sugar beets."

"Beets?"

"There's a special beet that you can make sugar out of. I planted a few in the greenhouse so I can make fresh seeds for later, but I don't even know how you make beets into sugar." Sarah sighed.

"Let's not talk about this right now," insisted Clem. "We spend enough time worrying as it is. Let's do something fun, like play a game."

"Oh, how about Marco Polo?" suggested an eager Sarah.

"That sounds good," said Clem. "I get to be Marco first."

"Okay, close your eyes and count to ten."

Clem closed her eyes and started counting, leaving short pauses between the numbers so she could listen for Sarah moving across the water. Around ten, Clem could tell Sarah was somewhere behind her now and was ready to pounce.

"Marco!"

"Po-hey!" Clem didn't even wait for Sarah to finish saying polo before she spun around and leapt forward. She only managed to grab a handful of water, but she could hear Sarah scrambling away just in front of her and Clem rushed after her as fast as she could across the slick lakebed.

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

"Marco!"

"Not so fast—ah!" Clem felt her hands colliding with something soft and fleshy and wasted no time grabbing it as hard as she could. Opening her eyes, Clem found herself clinging to Sarah with both hands.

"I win," boasted Clem as she squeezed Sarah a little harder.

"Okay, my turn." Sarah closed her eyes and Clem started scrambling away as she started counting. By ten, Clem had put a safe distance between them and was eagerly awaiting Sarah's first move. She had a big grin on her face as she slowly turned in place, eyes closed but ears open for movement.

"Marco!"

"Poh—"

Clem watched as Sarah dove in her direction and swam towards her like a shark that had just smelled blood. Clem struggled to wade through the water as Sarah emerged dramatically from below, erupting onto the surface with a huge splash.

"Marco!" she gasped before taking a deep breath.

"Po-whoa!" Sarah's hands came swinging right towards Clem with all the precision of a hungry walker trying to grab someone. Clementine managed to back away just in time to feel the swishing of Sarah's arms generate a small draft that nipped at her wet skin.

Sarah was giggling uncontrollably, prompting Clem to giggle herself. As they both became silent, Clem watched as Sarah stood up straight while her arms remained out in front of her, hands shaped like claws ready to snag the first thing they touched. Clem should have been moving further away, but thinking about those strong arms suddenly grabbing her compelled Clem to inch closer to Sarah instead.

"Marco!"

"Polo." Sarah leapt forward and grappled Clem with ease. Clem started laughing as she felt Sarah's arms ensnaring her; one running up and around her back while the other firmly wrapped itself around her waist. As Sarah pulled Clem in close, pressing the fabric of her swimsuit up against Clem's skin, Clem hands moved without thinking and repaid the embrace with a firm hug as she closed her eyes. Standing there in each other's arms, Clem felt she would be content to simply remain like this forever.

"Hey, Sarah!" Anthony's voice cut through Clem like a knife. Opening her eyes and turning her head, she spotted the young man standing on the shore. "How's the water?"

"Hey Anthony," called Sarah. "The water is fine. Did—"

"Go away!" yelled Clem as she clung to Sarah, trying to pivot herself in a way where Sarah would block Anthony's view of her.

"Clem, don't—"

"Tell him to go away," insisted Clem.

"Is that Clem?" she heard Anthony ask.

"But—"

"Sarah!"

"Okay." Sarah shifted slightly while Clem clung to her for privacy. "Yeah, and she's kind of embarrassed right now. Would you mind—"

"I get it. I'll catch up with you later then." Clem stood there, shivering slightly as she clung to Sarah both for privacy and warmth. She could briefly hear footsteps moving away from her in the distance, then nothing.

"He's gone." Clem breathed a sigh of relief, then rushed back to the shore. She barely spent any time drying herself before putting her clothes back on, thinking she couldn't be dressed fast enough. Sarah however moved with less urgency, taking her time to towel off, during which Clem kept her eyes open for Anthony or anyone else approaching the lake. No one came, but while Clem kept watch, Sarah had started marching back to the farm without her.

"Hey, wait up," called Clem as she ran after Sarah. "Why are—"

"I really wish you hadn't yelled at him like that."

"What?" Clem was surprised by Sarah's hostile tone. "Sarah, I was in my underwear!"

"You told me you didn't care if people saw you in your underwear."

"I don't care if you do, but you're not Anthony." That declaration stopped Sarah in her tracks. Turning around, Clem could see Sarah wasn't angry now. "There's a lot of things I wouldn't do with anyone other than you."

"I'm… I'm sorry," said Sarah before she started walking again. "It's my fault, I should have warned you Anthony was coming to swim with me."

"Wait, you knew he was coming?" asked Clem as she followed Sarah.

"Yeah, it was his idea," said Sarah. "He said I had been working too hard and swimming would help me relax. He even said he'd finish my work in the greenhouse so I could go first, then he'd come join me."

"You two were going to go swimming together?" asked Clem. "Why didn't you invite me?"

"I did, just a minute ago."

"Only because I came looking for."

"And I wanted you to come swimming with me."

"But if I hadn't come by you would have just gone without me."

"Clem, I just grabbed my swimsuit and came right here the second Anthony said he'd finish up with the greenhouse. It was so hot in there I didn't even think about anything else but getting in the lake," explained Sarah, sounding tired. "Next time I'll be sure to invite you, okay?"

"It just bothers me you didn't tell me."

"He said you'd be like this…" Sarah mumbled under her breath, as if she didn't want Clem to hear it, but Clem had.

"What? What did he say?"

"Nothing," insisted Sarah.

"No, I want to know what Anthony said about me," asserted Clem as she ran in front of Sarah to block her path. "What'd he say?"

"He just said you'd probably get jealous if I spent time with someone other than you," explained an irritated Sarah.

"I'm not jealous," refuted Clem. "I'm just… worried about you spending time with Anthony."

"Why?"

"Because…"

"Because you don't like him," concluded Sarah.

"He makes it pretty easy," said Clem as she crossed her arms. "Nobody here likes him."

"I like him," refuted Sarah defiantly.

"Why?" challenged Clem.

"He's a big help."

"So is everyone else here, but none of them said things that made Patty feel like shit."

"I know, but—"

"Or call Devlin… that word," added Clem. "You remember what I told you about it right?"

"Yes, I remember. But—"

"It's one of the words Consuelo liked to say."

"Anthony's not Consuelo!"

"You don't know that. Maybe he's just like her and pretends not to be."

"That's not true and you know it!"

"Why do you always stick up for him?"

"Because he saved your life!" Clem found herself taken aback by that statement. Standing there in silence, she watched as the anger on Sarah's face morphed into a familiar look of worry. "I… I just kept thinking about what would have happened if Anthony hadn't been there, and those men decided to shoot you and Patty."

Clem wanted to say something to comfort Sarah, but nothing came to mind.

"I know it bothered you, him shooting that man; it bothered me too. But it bothered me more to think about… about you getting shot in the head," said Sarah in-between short, pained breaths. "If Anthony hadn't been there, I… I don't know if I could… I could do that… again, I…"

"It's okay," assured Clem as she hugged Sarah. "It's all right, I'm sorry, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," said Sarah as she hugged Clem back. "Look, I know Anthony's a jerk sometimes, but I think that's just because so many people have been bad to him before he just thinks that's how everyone is."

"Really?" asked a dubious Clem.

"Yes, really. I asked him why he got so afraid in the shelter, and he told me he hates being locked in dark rooms because once, the police arrested him and then locked him in a closet all night."

"Why'd they do that?"

"He said it was because he was homeless, and that when they let him out the next morning, they told him if he didn't leave town they wouldn't let him out next time."

"That's… terrible," realized Clem.

"Yeah. That doesn't make what he said right, but I really think he was just upset and said something terrible because he wasn't thinking right, kind of like that night we were trapped on the overhang and I… I…"

Hearing Sarah bite her lip to stop herself from crying felt like a stab to Clem's heart, and thinking back to some of the things she said to Sarah that night only made it worse. "I love you," professed Clementine.

"I love you too," said Sarah. "And I've haven't forgotten about the stuff Anthony has done, and he annoys me sometimes too, but you told me even when people do bad things, they don't have to be bad people, and I don't think Anthony wants to be a bad person."

Clem found a familiar anxiety gripping her chest as her own words started swirling around in her head. "Let's just go home already." Clem let go of Sarah and the pair started walking again, eventually coming out of the forest and returning to their farm. As they reached the edge of the field's fence, Clem noticed something small moving amongst the tomato plants.

"Is that—"

"Go away!" yelled Sarah as she jumped over the fence. "Shoo! Get out of here!" A small flock of crows went loudly flapping into the air as Sarah ran across the field. "Stupid birds."

"Why can't they just leave us alone?" asked Clem as she glared at the pests flying off towards the trees, no doubt to camp out there until they left. "Did the books say anything about getting rid of crows?"

"Use a scarecrow," recited an irritated Sarah as she examined one of the tomato plants. "Everything else, like covering our plants or putting up a mesh screen would take too much time for a whole farm."

"I'm still mad at those birds who kept eating all our stuff in Spokeston," said Clem. "Now it's happening again, like they followed us here."

"We're probably the only farm anywhere around here, or at least the only one growing anything," realized Sarah. "Which means we're the only food around here… this place is going to be a magnet for animals and pests as our crops start to come in."

"Hey!" Clem looked over to see the others approaching, Omid included as Patty carried him across the field. "We heard yelling, what's up?"

"It's fine, it's just the stupid birds again," assured Sarah.

"Kem-men, Sah-rah," spoke Omid, clearly desperate for attention.

"Come here Omid," said Clem as Patty set Omid on the dirt.

"Little bastards," griped Anthony as Omid came rushing into Clem's arms. "You people should just let me shoot 'em."

"We used up enough bullets getting into Tulsa," dismissed Sarah. "We don't need to waste what's left on birds, especially when there are probably hundreds of them."

"Mah-buh," Omid told Clem.

"You hungry?" asked Clem as she pointed at her own mouth. "Hun-gree?"

"Hum-bee," repeated Omid.

"I'll get you something in just a minute."

"Plus, we don't need to be shooting off our guns and letting anyone who might be passing by where we are," added Devlin.

"Hum-bee," Clem watched as Omid walked towards one of the tomato plants.

"We gotta do something, they're just gonna keep coming back," said Anthony.

"Granddad, did your family ever do anything to keep out birds?" asked Jet as Omid approached the tomato cage.

"My mother occasionally chased them off with a broom," said Sin. "My family was more worried about droughts than birds though."

"Mah-bah." Clem watched Omid reach into the cage to grab something. Inching in closer, she could see his hand trying to grab one of two equally tiny but red tomatoes hanging from a vine.

"Sarah," called Clem. "Look at this. Omid found some ripe tomatoes."

"He did?" asked Sarah in astonishment as she hurried over on her knees. "Oh wow, they are ripe."

"For reals?" asked Patty.

"Let me see," said Anthony as he knelt down, along with everyone else eager to see the literal fruits of their labor. Clem pulled back a few leaves while Omid kept struggling to reach the tomatoes.

"Mah-bah!" cried a hungry Omid.

"No Omid, we shouldn't eat these yet—"

"Oh come Sarah, surely we can eat those?" insisted Anthony.

"Yeah, just like as a sample or something," added Patty, sounding hungry herself. "I think we've earned that."

"And… it be useful to know if they taste right," reasoned Sin, trying to sound objective. "Make sure there's nothing wrong with our crop."

"It'd be nice just to taste anything at this point," admitted Devlin. "We've been at this farm thing for over a month now."

"Two if you count the couple of weeks in Tulsa getting ready," added Jet.

Sarah looked at Clem, and Clem didn't have to say anything to answer her; she wanted to taste fresh tomatoes too.

"Just give me a second to pick them," said Sarah as she reached into the cage. "Does anyone have a knife?"

Before Clem could reach for hers, Anthony held out an unsheathed knife towards Sarah. Sarah very carefully picked both tomatoes from the vine, washed them off with a dab of water from her canteen, then used Anthony's knife to slice one tomato in half, then the halves into quarter slices she handed out to Anthony, Jet, Sin and Devlin. As the four of them all savored the first fresh piece of produce any of them had seen in a long time, Clem watched impatiently as Sarah carefully cut the other tomato into pieces.

"Hum-bee!" complained Omid as Clem held him in place.

"Just a second OJ," said Clem. "This… this is gonna be worth it."

Sarah handed a couple of quarter-slices to Clem, and Clem had to close her hand around them before Omid grabbed them both.

"Mah-bah!" cried Omid.

"I'm gonna give you one," assured Clem as she picked a piece out with her free hand. "You're not the only one who wants to try it." Clem fed Omid the tomato slice and had to pull back her fingers to avoid getting bitten in the process. As Omid's crying morphed into a happy chewing, Clem carefully placed the other piece into her mouth.

The thick grassy smell of the tomato plants in the air and the juices of that slice of fruit hitting her tongue brought back a flood of memories of Clem and Sarah's first time sampling their own garden back in Spokeston. They couldn't wait then either and ate the first couple of tomatoes that turned red. Even thinking back on it, Clem couldn't believe they ever tasted so good; juicy, cool, and tart with a strong hint of sweetness.

It could have tasted like battery acid and Clem probably wouldn't have minded since just the sensation of eating anything with such strong flavor again was almost enough to make her cry. They had gotten to eat fresh meat and fish recently, but the only fresh fruit had been the oranges from Valkaria around half a year ago. Before that, Clem would have to think back to the summer of last year and whatever little fresh fruit and vegetables they managed to salvage from the various pests trying to consume them.

She had to remember all over again what fruit not sealed in a can for over a year tasted like. That it could be more than just vaguely sweet or salty mush. Thinking about how much she had learned from then, Clem wondered what she could cook with fresh tomatoes. Could she make a meal with tomatoes and fish? She'd certainly try if she had enough of both those things. Finally swallowing the savory morsel, Clem breathed out and found herself sitting in a field of still growing crops.

She instinctively looked for more red tomatoes, but couldn't see a single one no matter where she searched. Looking up at the others, Clem saw a familiar sense of bittersweet disappointment hanging off all their faces. Each and every one of them had experienced something wonderful. For Omid, it was something completely new, and for the others, something they thought had been lost to them with so much else that disappeared after the outbreak.

"Okay, fuck it," said Patty, breaking the silence. "I see those damn crows on our field again, and I'm shooting them."

"Like I said, that's a bad idea," said Sarah. "But… we'll figure something out, even if I have to camp out here to keep them away."

"I'd camp out here just to watch for the next tomato," offered Anthony.

"Me too," said Jet.

"Wind chimes," blurted out Sin. "I just remembered, birds don't like wind chimes, or anything that makes sudden noises."

"I could probably build something like a wind chime," offered Devlin. "I mean, it just has to make noise right?"

"Kem-men, hum-bee!" announced Omid as he tugged on Clem's shirt.

"It's okay Omid, I'll get you something else to eat," she assured as she picked up the toddler. "And don't worry, we're gonna have a lot more stuff like that soon," said Clem as she looked down at the tomato plants. "You're gonna get to eat good food like that for every meal, just like I promised."

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 74 - Safety

Clementine steadied the hammer in her hand and took aim at her target. She landed a single firm tap on the lowest rung of metal wiring that formed the tomato cage she was kneeling in front of. Her strike didn't seem to drive the cage's legs any further into the soft dirt, but she hit it once more for good measure before moving a few inches to repeat the process in a different spot.

Her entire morning had been methodically reinforcing the stability of tomato cages a few taps at a time, even though the tomato plants themselves still were too small to make any use out of them. Even having grown from sprouts to proper plants, the few limbs they had were too short to reach the cage, which was narrowest at the bottom. However, with the approaching weather, Sarah said they should make sure everything was secure.

There was a crashing sound in the distance and Clem looked up expecting to see a flash of lightning. The thick gray clouds hanging over the area had been seen as a good omen by everyone. Rain would not only water the crops for them, but it'd refill the tanks on their RV's and the barrels they had set out under the houses' gutters. Clem was also grateful for the comforting shade it cast over the field, sparing her another morning baking in the sun.

There was another distant crashing sound but Clem saw no lightning. Adjusting her view downward slightly, she saw the backhoe on the edge of the field, further digging out the now severely shrunken pond. Sin had wanted to work on digging a trench the lake, but seeing it was overcast this morning, decided enlarging their pond before it rained would be a better use of his time.

Watching the backhoe move back and forth, its equipment crashing loudly as it did, Clem realized there had been no thunder, yet. After settling in place, the mechanical arm started digging again and Clem went back to work herself, reasoning she had time to finish before the rain arrived. She didn't make it much further before she noticed Anthony moving towards her.

"Need a hand?" he asked with a shrug, a hammer in his hand.

"You're done with the bean poles?" Anthony nodded weakly, to which Clem made a slight gesture with her head and he knelt down by the tomato cage next to her to begin tapping the wrung nearest the cage's legs.

"Really starting to wish Sin never told us about mercury poisoning," mumbled Anthony.

"Really?" asked Clem. "But then—"

"Getting sick and maybe dying while getting fat on fish is starting to look preferable to this bullshit," mumbled Anthony. "That lake is huge. I bet I could pull in two or three pounders every day if I actually went fishing instead of just pulling in those cages. I mean, how long would you have to eat fish before that shit would actually kill you? Weren't there people before who ate fish every day and they were fine?"

"I don't know," shrugged Clem as she moved onto to the next tomato cage. "My mom sometimes made me tuna sandwiches."

"And you're okay. I mean, the old man even said he's not an expert on this stuff; we could eat a lot of fish and be fine for all he knows."

"Or we could get sick, and then none of us know what to do because none of us are doctors," retorted Clem. "I met someone once who told me they knew people who tried avoiding the land when the walkers first showed up. They stayed on a river and just ate fish, and some of them got scurvy."

"The hell is scurvy?"

"Sarah looked it up and it's a disease you get when you don't get enough vitamin C, which fish don't have," said Clem as she tapped the tomato cage with her hammer. "She said it makes you really tired and your arms and legs sore and your gums start bleeding."

"Holy shit," said Anthony in a whisper. "Couple of days before I met you guys, my gums had started bleeding."

"You should have eaten those green beans," said Clem as she stood up.

"Huh?"

"Those cans of green beans you left in front of that… weird trap you made," reminded Clem. "You should have just eaten them."

"Why's that?"

"They're full of vitamin C." Anthony looked at Clem, baffled. She just smirked at him before moving onto the next tomato cage.

"How do you know what does and doesn't have vitamin C in it?" asked Anthony as he knelt down by the next cage.

"When we first started taking care of OJ, Sarah was really worried about what we'd feed him when he stopped drinking formula and we spent like three days just looking up different vitamins and checking the labels on cans to know what had what." Clem knelt down and started working on the next tomato cage. "And nothing really has everything you need, so even if we don't have to worry about mercury, we couldn't live off just fish."

"What about deer?" asked Anthony.

"I don't think we could just eat them either, and even if we could, we haven't seen a deer since the one you shot. That's why we need this farm."

"Yeah, yeah, I figured that. It's just this farming stuff is such a hassle," said Anthony as he tapped the cage with his hammer. "Sarah said once the corn stalks get sturdy enough, we're gonna have to carefully untangle the beans' vines, then rewrap them around the corn stalks because she's afraid the bean poles might get in the way of the corn once it starts coming in."

"Sort we're gonna have to do for the beans and corn what she said we'd have to do with the cucumbers and those weird wire tent things we setup?"

"Yeah. Thank God we did those just yesterday or Sarah would be telling us to double check them too."

"She's just being careful," insisted Clem. "After our first garden—"

"I know, she told me," said Anthony as he stood up and wiped his face with his sleeve. "I just hope we're not doing all this just to repeat what happened with it."

"Yeah, me too." Having reached the end, Clem stood up and looked out over the rest of the field. There were rows of cages, wooden poles, and tall wire structures shaped like sign boards neatly lined up across the rows of dirt, while the plants they were set out for were still tiny and frail. The cucumbers were currently just a mess of short leaves, the tomato plants were dwarfed by the cages that encased them, and the beanstalks still appeared to be little more than curly weeds. The only thing that resembled a finished vegetable were the lettuce plants, which currently looked like miniature versions of the finished product.

"Hey, take a look at this." Clem turned to find Anthony's face hovering an inch away from one of the cages. "This one's actually got a tomato on it."

"Really?" Clem knelt down to look herself, and under one of the plants leaves she could see a tiny green bump hanging from a thin vine. "I wonder how long until we can eat it."

"Probably a few weeks," said Anthony. "These are early girl tomatoes, so they'll probably be the first thing that's ready. The cucumbers shouldn't be far behind them."

"How do you know that?" asked Clem.

"Sarah's out here every morning at dawn checking everything in this field, and the second she needs a hand she wakes me up," explained Anthony.

"Really?"

"Yes really, who the hell do you think carries fertilizer for her or helps get more dirt to top off the potatoes' row?" asked Anthony. "I spend so many early mornings out here with her I can't help but ask when the hell this stuff is going to be ready."

"It's just… why does she come to you?"

"She says you're always busy in the morning taking care of your baby, and Devlin is always getting picked for some kind of construction project. I was hoping he'd finally be free today to help but apparently now is when he needs to go back to Tulsa to see if anyone has visited since we left."

"He said he'd go on the first of every month, and today is April first."

"Leaving me as the lone strong back around here; happy April Fool's Day," griped Anthony as he stood up. "Speaking of indentured servitude, I'd better go fetch some water."

Clem followed after Anthony as he headed for the pond. Running along the edge of the field was a thick white plastic pipe suspended about half a foot off the ground by blocks of wood. Looking to her right, Clem could see the pipe ran towards the rainwater collector built up against the side of the barn. Anthony stepped over the pipe with ease while Clem had to be more careful not to trip over it. Anthony grabbed a couple of watering cans tucked away by the barn door and started walking towards the pond.

"Wait, it's going to rain," remembered Clem. "Sarah said we won't need to water the field today."

"The field, no," said Anthony. "That little greenhouse Devlin put together for Sarah, that still needs water."

Clem wanted to ask Anthony something else, but as they neared the pond, the sound of the backhoe's engine drowned any attempt at conversation. Looking over at the cab, Anthony held up his hand and Clem could see Sin inside nodding. The arm pivoted away from the pond, dropping off a load of dirt near a large pile beside the vehicle, then the arm retracted and the backhoe's engine went silent.

"Why don't you go check on him?" suggested Anthony as he hopped into the wide ditch the backhoe created. "Figure out if his damn irrigation system works yet or not. I'd love a break from watering tomorrow too." Anthony moved through the ditch until he reached the edge of the dried pond, then kept walking until he finally reached what remained of the water. Turning away from Anthony, Clem noticed Sin exiting the cab of the backhoe and sitting down on the step just below his seat.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she approached the man.

"Huh?" said Sin as he looked up, as if he just noticed her.

"I just asked if you're okay."

"I'm fine," assured a tired Sin. "It just gets hot in there, and the constant sound of the engine probably isn't good for my hearing."

"We've got some special earmuffs that stop noise," said Clem. "We took them from a gun store so whenever we practiced our aim it wouldn't bother Omid, but he always takes them off when we put them on him."

"I think I could use those," said Sin as he looked over his shoulder at the rest of the backhoe. "Just digging out the pond is taking a toll on me. It'll probably take several days to dig a trench from here to the lake, maybe a week, and longer still to solidify it with concrete." Sin looked over at the pond as Anthony carried a couple of full water cans out of it.

"He's not going to water the field today he is?"

"He's getting water for Sarah's greenhouse," explained Clem.

"I haven't even looked at that yet," said Sin.

"I haven't either," admitted Clem. "Devlin finished it yesterday I think and by then I just wanted to go to bed, and this morning Sarah wanted me to come out here after feeding Omid to make sure the tomato cages weren't going to blow away." There was a sudden flash followed a few seconds later by a distant clash of thunder.

"Seems like you finished just in time." Sin closed the door to the backhoe and moved towards Clem. "We should probably all get in before the rain starts. Besides, Jet insists I come to this party Patty wants to do for our first rainy day."

"Oh yeah, that should be fun," said Clem as she walked with Sin across the dirt, eyeing the long water pipe that spanned the short side of the field. "Although, Anthony wanted to know how this rainwater collector works," said Clem as she looked over at the large stacks of barrels connected to each other by a mess of pipes. "I would too. I saw something like this once that collected lots of rainwater, but it different. It was just a shipping container they put gutters on that emptied into barrels, then they'd use one of those little mover things to carry the full barrels away."

"I suppose now is as good a time as any to field any questions about this device," said Sin as he walked over to the stacks of barrels stacked upon other barrels. "There's no carrying these barrels away. Devlin and I went to great lengths to anchor them in place and to each other to form a single large reservoir we can use to water our crops," explained Sin as he gestured to the pipes running between all the barrels.

Looking carefully, Clem could see there were two types of plastic pipes linking the barrels together; one thick and one thin. Both sets of pipes connected every barrel to every other barrel, even extending upwards in a few places to link the top and bottom rows. The larger pipes connected to tall tubes on each side of the collector that ran up to the barn's gutters. But the thin pipes only connected the barrels to each other, barring a few short lengths of open pipe sticking straight up past the top row of barrels.

"So… what are these for?" asked Clem as she pointed at the thin open pipes that looked like tiny chimneys, complete with small plastic covers that left space for air to escape.

"Those are the vents," explained Sin.

"Vents?" asked Clem. "Why do water barrels need those?"

"So there's somewhere for the air to go as the water comes in."

"I don't understand. Why does the air have to go anywhere?"

"Because if the air in the barrels couldn't get out, then the water could never get in."

"Really? If those weren't there the water would just, what, stay in the gutters?"

"Well no, some water would get in, but…" Sin scratched his chin. "Did you ever take a glass, turn it upside down, and hold it underwater in a sink?"

"Our teacher did that in school once with a bottle," said Clem. "I thought it was weird the water wouldn't go inside."

"That's because there's air trapped inside the bottle and has nowhere to go, which means the water can't enter the container because it's filled with air, which takes up space even if we usually can't see it," explained Sin.

"But what about when you just pour water into a bottle?" asked Clem. "There's air in there then too. Why does it work then?"

"That's because liquid particles aren't as densely packed as the solid ones a bottle is made out of, and air can push through water much like how we could swim through it. When you hold a bottle underwater with the top facing up, you see as air escapes the bottle in the form of bubbles being pushed up through the water."

"Well, then why do you need the vents? Wouldn't the air in the barrels do the same thing and just go up the pipes like bubbles out of a bottle?"

"What's a faster way to collect water: using a cup or using a bottle?"

"Probably the cup."

"Why?"

"Well, because the water goes right in. If you hold a bottle underwater, it makes this glug-glug sound while the bubbles come out and it takes longer."

"Exactly," said Sin with a smirk. "The cup has a wide opening that allows water to just push air right out, whereas a bottle has a narrow top that both the air and water have to pass through, which slows both of them down."

"Oh… but the pipes for your vents are narrow," noted Clem.

"Ah, but water won't be coming in that way," said Sin as he pointed at one of the larger pipes connected to the gutter. "The water will be rushing in from that pipe and come flowing into the bottom barrels, and the air will have to go somewhere. Where do you think it will go?"

"Um, I guess up and out through your vents?"

"Why?"

"Because… it's easier than trying to go through all the water coming in the bigger pipes?" guessed Clem.

"Exactly, the air will follow the path of least resistance. Without those vents, the main pipes would be a bottleneck for the escaping air and the incoming water."

"What's a bottleneck?"

"It's a part of a machine or system where very little can pass through it at once, which is a problem because most systems are only as efficient as their weakest components. Imagine if your watering can's spout was as narrow as a drinking straw. It would take a very long time to pour out the water we need for the crops."

"So… it's like a bottle's neck?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you said the water takes longer because the top of the bottle is narrow," reminded Clem. "So, a bottleneck is like a bottle… neck."

Clem was surprised to see Sin stifle a laugh and try to hide the fact he was smiling. "For me, that word has been synonymous with production problems for so long that I never even considered its very appropriate literal meaning."

Clem couldn't stop herself from smiling as she thought about how she had actually taught Sin something, even if it was only something trivial. "So, is that why the water pipes connect to all the other barrels? So there won't be a bottle neck?"

"Yes, by giving the water multiple paths, it'll help maintain a steady flow and hopefully keep the pipe from backing up and wasting water during a heavy rain. I had wanted to have more than two pipes connect to the gutters to help, but the barns angular roof means we had to build the collector on a short side where we could run pipes from both halves of the roof. Otherwise, we'd miss half the water we could collect."

"What about this bench thing?" asked Clem as she pointed at the simple wooden structure that supported all the barrels. "What's it for?"

"It suspends the barrels a couple of feet off the ground so gravity could allow the water to flow out easily. Like I said, I can't make water move uphill without pressurizing it."

"But, then how would the top barrels ever get filled? None of them are connected to the pipe coming from the gutter, only the bottom barrels. Wouldn't the water just stay in the bottom barrels then?"

"The weight of the water in the pipe creates a small degree of pressure, enough to raise the water level," explained Sin. "However, it can't raise the water higher than the source of the water exerting that pressure, and the rising water goes slower as it approaches the height of its source."

"Is that why water towers are so tall?" asked Clem. "So they create lots of water pressure?"

"That's right," said Sin, sounding pleased. "That much water that high up creates a significant amount of pressure just from gravity."

"But, how did the water get up there in the first place?"

"Usually it's pumped in from a treatment plant."

"Oh, so they need electricity?"

"Generally. There are other means, like—"

"A windmill?"

"Yes," said Sin, sounding surprised. "How did you know that?"

"I met someone once who said she was going to build a windmill so she could have running water again," explained Clem, trying to keep her voice from sounding too bitter. "Could you build something like that?"

"Theoretically."

"Theoretically?"

"I understand the fundamental principles of windmills and how we could connect one to a pump, but actually designing and constructing such a thing under these circumstances is a different matter," explained Sin. "I'm still yet to even properly test our irrigation system."

"What is our irrigation system?" asked Clem. "I saw that pipe near the field, but what does it do?"

"We took as many drip lines and soaker hoses as we would come from Tulsa and I installed a valve with a connector for a hose on each section of that pipe over there. In theory, we should be able to connect the hoses to the pipe, unroll them across the field for each row we're growing, then just turn the handle and let the water from the collector flow out to our plants."

"But?" asked Clem, knowing it couldn't possibly be that easy.

"I'm not sure if the collector will provide enough water pressure to cover that many hoses over that great a distance. Even if they do, we'll only be able to use it after it rains."

"That's still better than having to water the crops every day," said Clem. "What about the trench from the lake you want to make?"

"I'm still working on what would be the best way to distribute the water, assuming we can make a trench through that terrain. Currently, I'm thinking it might be best to just install a hand pump near the end of the main pipe near the pond, just pump water into it and let the hoses distribute it, but—"

There was a sudden flash followed by a clap of thunder. Even if she hadn't noticed that they were closer together than the last time, Clem could tell the storm was nearer because of how much louder the thunder was.

"We should probably go in," concluded Clem.

"I'm going to double check everything. I'd hate to think I left a valve open somewhere and our first rain of the season goes down the tubes, literally," said Sin as he moved in close to the collector. "You go ahead, unless you want to stay and help?"

"That's okay, but this was kind of fun, learning how stuff works."

"If you ever want another lesson on basic engineering, just ask."

"I might do that," said Clem, thinking that sounded fun. Sin must have thought the same thing as it looked like he was hiding another smile, easily making this the most Clem had seen him smile since meeting the man. Leaving Sin to work, Clem headed towards the house just as another clap of thunder sounded. Crossing past the fence, Clem spotted Jet hurrying into the shed in the middle of the yard. Needing to return a hammer, Clem followed in Jet's footsteps only to almost crash into him as he came racing back out.

"Whoa!" said Jet as he jumped several steps. "Where did you come from?"

"I was just bringing my hammer back," said Clem as she held up the tool.

"Oh, perfect, I was just looking for one of those."

"What for?"

"I was just going to put this up." Jet removed a thick wooden sign from under his arm and held it out for Clem to see.

"Ceres Acres?"

"Ceres was the Roman goddesses of agriculture," explained Jet as he turned the sign around. "Also the biggest asteroid in the asteroid belt is named Ceres… plus it sounds cool."

"Why'd you make this?"

"I figured this place needs a name, so when we went to Pawhuska I made sure to grab some stencils and paint and a sign from the hobby store we found," explained Jet. "I've been working on it in my room at night whenever I get a chance. Do you like it?"

Showing her the sign again, Clem could tell Jet had spent a lot of time on it. There were painted images of leaves in each corner; the top ones green and rounded, the bottom ones orange and pointed. A pair of short chains ran through a couple of holes in the top. Thick black lines ran with little swirls growing out of them ran between the corners to create a border. Near the bottom in tiny lettering it read 'EST. 2 A.O.' while in the center was 'CERES ACRES' spelled out in big, black ornate letters.

"I like it," said Clem.

"Really?" asked Jet, sounding a little surprised. "I was about to go hang it over the front porch. You want to help?"

"Sure." Clem went with Jet to the front of the house, heading up the steps into the quaint veranda. Discovering they had never collected any furniture to place on the porch, Jet hurried inside to collect something to stand on while Clem made a mental note to get a few cozy chairs next time they went into Pawhuska. Jet hammered a couple of nails into the roof of the veranda while Clem held the stool he was standing on steady. When he was done, she passed up the sign and he looped the chains around the ends of the nails.

Hopping off the chair, the pair immediately ran down the steps to admire their handy work. The sign hung neatly in front of the entrance, christening the property with its new name. It even swayed a little as the wind picked up, and Clem suddenly found herself tickled by an image of her and Sarah as old ladies in rocking chairs, just watching the sun set together from the veranda.

"Hey, I think Devlin's back."

Clem spun around in time to see a large red semi-truck turn off the driveway and pull up next to the other semi hitched to the trailer they had used to move the backhoe. Clem went with Jet as they rushed out to meet the man. Arriving at the truck, they watched as Devlin slunk out of the cab, a forlorn look on his face as he leaned up against the vehicle.

"Devlin?" greeted Clem as they inched closer.

"Did something happen in Tulsa?" asked an anxious Jet as the man turned to look at the pair.

"Nah, nothing happened," Devlin said with a half-hearted shrug. "If anyone had come since we left, they didn't touch anything we left out for them at the Sam's Club, least not that I could tell."

"Then what's wrong?" Clem's question was met with silence as Devlin looked away. "You can tell us."

"It's just… being back in that big empty city, all by myself," spoke Devlin in a quiet voice. "Brought back a lot of bad memories of living there, alone, thinking I was the last man alive on Earth."

"I'm sorry," spoke a sympathetic Clem.

"There… there were more than a few nights there I thought about pointing the line launcher at my own head," admitted Devlin in a hushed whisper. "I think the only thing stopping me was knowing since it didn't use a regular bullet, there was a good chance it wouldn't actually kill me."

"Devlin…" spoke a visibly disturbed Jet.

"Never mind, just forget—"

"Don't," said Clem as she grabbed the man's sleeve as he tried to turn to back to the cab. "Don't tell us to just forget about something like that. Talk to us."

"I'm… I'm not used to talking to people about stuff like this," admitted Devlin. "Especially not kids who got enough to worry about as it is."

"Like I told you before, talking to people isn't nearly as bad as a lot of things we have to worry about now," reminded Clem.

"And I'd worry less if you just talked to us," said Jet, almost pleading.

"If you don't want to talk about something right now because it makes you feel worse, then just tell us that, but if it's us you're worried about then you're better off telling us."

Devlin took a deep breath. "I guess I'm just terrified I'll wind up alone again," he confessed. "Been my worst fear for a long time. I never really knew my dad, and my mom died not long after I finished high school. Just had a heart attack one day… she wasn't even that old. She… she had been my whole life up until then."

"You didn't have any other family?" asked Jet.

"Like I said, I don't know where my dad is, I was an only child, no grandparents or aunts or uncles, not that I know of; losing her was like losing everything. If I hadn't already enrolled in college, I don't know where the hell I would have gone next. And once I graduated I immediately looked for something else, anything so I wouldn't be alone. I had a lot of student debt, and I didn't really feel comfortable with the regular military, so I joined the Coast Guard.

"Might sound strange, but the time I spent with Simmons and company was probably the first time I felt like I really belonged, like I had a purpose, and a family again. As hard as things were in Tulsa, I don't think I had ever felt closer to people than I did with them. When we drew straws to find out what order we'd take lingering survivors out of Tulsa in, each time I drew the short one it felt like another punch to the stomach, until I realized I'd have to be the one who stayed the longest, by myself."

"That's terrible," said Jet. "You… you just had to watch them leave one by one?"

"The Chief went before the rest of us, taking whoever was left downriver to hopefully be safe in New Orleans. A family of four came to Tulsa not long after that; John took them downriver. Next was Jorge and this brother and sister who couldn't stop arguing. For over a month it was just me and Gina, this older woman who loved to swear. We used to joke she was around when the Coast Guard was founded. She heard us once and snapped 'And the recruits get bitchier every fucking century!"

Jet had to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, it gets less funny when you spend a whole month alone with her. But still, the day some starving old man with torn up shoes came stumbling into the citadel, I was sad to see her go with him to New Orleans. Then it was just me, waiting for my chance to go home to them… but they're not there anymore."

"I know how you feel," spoke a sympathetic Clem. "After everything changed, I just wanted to find my parents again. I met a lot of people who made me feel like I belonged, and eventually we went to the city my parents were in… They were dead, and everyone else I had ever met was dead or gone by the end of that day. I walked for miles, covered in blood and guts, not knowing where I'd go or what I'd do because there was no one left."

"What did you do?" asked Jet, transfixed by Clem's story.

"I got lucky. OJ's parents survived and found me outside the city. If they hadn't, I don't know what I would have done. I was so sad that if they hadn't of said we needed to move, I might have just sat on that log forever."

"Sounds like how I felt like when I met you people," said Devlin. "After you told me New Orleans was gone I just thought 'That's it, there's nothing left'. Then you guys talked about taking back the shopping center, and I was suddenly part of something again."

"Is that the only reason you came with us?" asked Jet.

"In a way," admitted Devlin. "I was just kind lost in the moment, and you people needed an extra hand. I'm happy I'm here now, but part of me wishes I just told the Chief I wanted to stay with her when she left for New Orleans for the last time, but I never said a word."

"Why not?" asked Clem.

"I guess I felt like it was my duty, not because I was in the Coast Guard, which didn't mean much after going AWOL, but to my mother, who told me the best thing you can ever do is be there for other people. Seeing as she died raising me, I always thought the least I could do is honor her by making sure her son was there for anyone who needed it, even when it meant giving up what I wanted."

"But you can't give up on everything you want," said Jet. "If you really wanted to be with your friends again you should have gone after them."

"If I had done that, I wouldn't have been there for you people when you came to Tulsa," reasoned Devlin.

"You said you thought about killing yourself while you were waiting. If that had happened, you wouldn't have been there for us or for anyone ever again." Devlin's stoic expression cracked upon hearing that. Clem watched as his eyes shifted in place and he sat up slightly, as if Jet now had his full attention.

"Anytime I was worried about something I couldn't control or was so far away I couldn't do anything about it, my dad would tell me to do something that made me feel better instead. He said if I don't stop to help myself every now and then, then I won't be in any shape to help someone else when the time comes."

"Your dad sounds like a smart man," said Devlin with a smirk.

"He and mom are both smart… I wish they were here." Clem placed her hand on Jet's shoulder as he sighed. "But, people like you and Clem and Patty help make it okay."

"Although, if you did want to go find your friends, I'd understand," Clem told Devlin. "I told you back in Tulsa I don't think it's a good idea, but it's not fair to you say you can't go. You've done a lot for us Devlin, the least we could do is let you do what you want most."

"I… I really appreciate that, both of you," said Devlin with utter sincerity. "But the whole time I was in Tulsa today, I just wanted to be back here."

"Really?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, really. I could barely stand being back there today… I don't think I could handle seeing New Orleans the same way."

"If it's that hard on you maybe you shouldn't go to Tulsa every month," suggested Jet.

"No, I'd feel even worse if I didn't. I mean, we left out instructions and everything. Being pretty cruel leaving people to wait in false hope like that."

"Well, what if I come with you next time?" suggested Clem. "That way the trip won't be so lonely."

"I appreciate that, but—"

"It's dangerous and I could get killed and a bunch of other stuff people always say when I say I should come with them," dismissed Clem. "Just let me go with you next time. You'll have someone with you so it won't feel lonely, and it'll be safer with two people who can watch each other, and I could get time off from watering plants and double-checking tomato cages."

"Damn, you just lay it all out there," noted Devlin with a smile. "You sounded a little like the Chief just now."

"So that means I can come with you when you go back there in May." said Clem, not so much asking as assuming.

"It doesn't sound like you're going to take no for an answer," observed Devlin. "And truth be told, I really would like the company."

"Great, so it's a deal," said Clem.

"And in the mean time, you're coming to Patty's party right?" asked Jet.

"Hell yeah," said Devlin with a smile. "I didn't spend an extra hour at the Sam's Club getting everything on her list just to not come. When's the festivities begin?"

"She said as soon as the rain started, so that way we've all got something to celebrate." Just after Jet said that, there was clap of thunder followed by the gentle patter of raindrops.

"Perfect timing," said Devlin as he spun around and reached into the cab.

"Here, first, this is the stuff Sarah asked me to bring back for her new greenhouse," said Devlin as he handed a couple of heavy plastic bags to Clem. "And Jet, you and I can bring in the rest before the bottom drops out."

"Do you know where Sarah is?" Clem asked Jet as she adjusted her grip on the bags.

"I'm pretty sure she's still behind the house in that plastic tunnel thing Devlin set up," said Jet as he took a large bucket with both hands. "I was bringing her pots of dirt all morning, and she didn't even look close to finished with… whatever she was doing."

Clem started running back towards the house as she could hear drops of rain falling on the brim of her hat. Running around the corner, she found the narrow space between the side of the house and the fence had been filled with a very long tent made out of a see-through material. It looked a little like the one Shaffer's used for a greenhouse, but much shorter and narrower.

After spending a minute trying the peel back a flap while juggling two heavy bags, Clem emerged inside the tent and found herself standing in a narrow aisle between the long tables that ran down the length of both sides of the tent. Sitting on top of them was a variety of different pots and planters all full of dirt. Hearing the gentle patter of rain suddenly erupt into a crude battering compelled Clem to look up and see the torrential downpour that had broken out in the short time since she entered the tent. Thinking she should get inside soon, Clem hurried forward and discovered Sarah standing at the opposite end of the tent.

"Sarah," said Clem as she approached her. "Sarah!"

"Hmm?" Sarah looked up from the pot she was staring at. "Clem, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" repeated Clem. "I haven't seen you all day. I'm here because Devlin is back and said you wanted this." Clem passed the bags to Sarah, who immediately set them on the table and started digging through them.

"Finally." Sarah whipped out a large plastic bottle, hastily eyed the back label, then twisted off the cap. Clem watched as she poured tiny yellow flakes across the dirt under the table, then kept moving to do the same under the next table. Briefly eyeing the label, Clem noticed the words 'Kills Fire Ants', and checking the bags, she spotted several other containers, pouches, and aerosol cans with scary words like 'RAID' and pictures of dead insects lying on their backs.

"I guess we have a bug problem now," concluded Clem as Sarah returned to the table and set the poison down.

"Yesterday, when I was setting up the tables after Devlin finished putting up the greenhouse, I suddenly felt something stinging my legs. Stupid ants climbed all the way up my sock just to bite me," groused Sarah as she grabbed an open container already sitting on the table.

"You… you had ants in your pants," said Clem, trying not to laugh.

"Then I thought, bugs might just eat all our plants before the stuff that's supposed to get rid of them finishes growing, and how stupid it was not to bring something to deal with them," rambled Sarah. "And then I realized I haven't read up on pesticides at all, even though I really should have, so just before Devlin left for Tulsa I told him to bring—"

"Sarah!" said Clem loudly but not angrily. "Calm down."

"I'm… I'm sorry," said Sarah as she scooped a tiny bit of blue powder out of a container and started sprinkling it over the dirt in the pot.

"It's okay, you don't need to be sorry. Just, take it easy."

"It's just, I didn't even think about pesticides until those ants bit me and it's getting warmer every day, so there will be probably more than just ants before long, so I need to start figuring out which pesticides do what and how to use them," rambled Sarah as she sprinkled the powder onto the dirt.

"Is that what you're doing now?" asked Clem.

"No, this is just fertilizer, which is something else I'll need to read up on," said Sarah as she grabbed a small watering can.

"Don't you just throw stuff that rots into a big bin or something?" asked Clem. "That's what I did at a friend's house whose parents had a compost heap in their yard."

"It's more complicated than that," said Sarah as she carefully poured some water onto the pot. "For good fertilizer, you need to make sure there's twice as much carbon stuff as nitrogen stuff, and you need to mix it right, and don't throw in things that attract pests."

"Don't we have a ton of fertilizer in the trailer… like literally?"

"Yeah, so we've got time for now, but eventually I'll need to figure out how to make our own before we run out," said Sarah as she set her watering can down. "Right now, it's more important I just get this stuff to grow."

"Are these the strawberries?" asked Clem as she looked at the pot.

"About half of them. The other ones are onions, carrots, and potatoes."

"You're growing those for the seeds, right?"

"Sorta," said Sarah as she moved onto another pot and started watering it.

"Sort of?"

"Well, from what I read, you can make more potatoes by cutting up grown ones into little cubes that each have their own eye on it. If you plant those, they'll grow into full-sized potatoes."

"Really?"

"Yeah, in fact, most of the books I read said you plant parts of a potato to grow into potatoes, not seeds anymore."

"But we planted—"

"That was our only bag. I think Devlin mentioned one of the people in Tulsa was an actual farmer who brought his stuff with him and he must have had a bag for growing what are called seed potatoes, which are potatoes you grow just to use to plant more potatoes. I didn't even notice it was the only bag for potatoes until after we used up most of them in the field…" Clem watched as Sarah's hand trembled as it scooped out more fertilizer.

"So, I'm growing most of what's left in here, hopefully so I can either get more seeds out of these potatoes, or just use the ones I grow to make more. If I don't figure it out… we'll probably never be able to grow potatoes after this year… assuming the seeds we had were even good in the first place."

"I… I had no idea," confessed Clem, feeling a little anxious as she thought about what Sarah said. "Are the carrots and onions like that too?"

"Not really, they just take a long time," said Sarah. "Although, you remember how we grew carrot tops like Dr. Bostwick said? You can do something like that for onions too. If you cut off the bottoms of onions and replant them, they'll grow roots and eventually grow into a whole new onion, sort of like the potatoes, except you can only get onion since they only have one bottom." Sarah finished sprinkling fertilizer on a pot and took a step back from the table. She took a deep breath as she looked out at all the other tables. "No wonder she was so mean."

"Who?"

"Dr. Bostwick," said Sarah. "She said she grew that whole greenhouse by herself; she must have worked all day every day on it."

"That didn't make it okay for her to be an asshole to us," stated Clem.

"No, but… probably nobody at Shaffer's really knew how hard it was to grow all that stuff. I mean, I never thought about it until I saw her greenhouse, and even then I didn't really know how hard it was until after we started that garden and I made so many mistakes and—"

"We both made mistakes, not just you," insisted Clem as she approached Sarah. "And we'll do better this time. And we got a lot of help."

"Who all need to eat too."

"And that's why we planted a lot more, and it'll start making food soon."

"Hopefully."

"It will. Anthony even found our first tomato today."

"Really?" asked a surprised Sarah.

"It was just a little green thing, but it was definitely a tomato."

"I'm glad we got the cages in now then," said Sarah. "You—"

"We made sure they were good and stuck in the ground, and he made sure the bean poles were too before it started raining."

"Raining?" Sarah looked up and saw the water rushing across the top of the tent. "I didn't even know it had started already. Did Sin—"

"He said the rainwater collector was ready."

"But the pond, did—"

"He dug it out as much as he could with the backhoe. Everyone's doing what you ask them to. It's okay," assured Clem as she grasped Sarah's hand. "Devlin just got back from Tulsa, and we were all going to have a party inside while it's raining. Why don't you come in already? You've been out here all morning."

"Oh… okay."

Clem breathed a sigh of relief as Sarah tossed off her gloves and apron and headed for the end of the tent. Even rushing through the rain to the door, Clem could feel herself getting soaked as the wind was whipping at her face. Bursting through the door and hurrying into the living room, Clem found almost everyone was gathered around a roaring fire in the fireplace.

"Kem-men!" Clem looked down to see Omid rushing up to greet her. "Sah-rah!"

"Hey there Oh—Omid," corrected Clem as she scooped him off the floor.

"Did you miss us?" asked Sarah, some of the weariness melting off her face as she smiled at him.

"Chai-yo!" he cheered.

"Chai-yo," answered Clem back.

"There you guys are," said Jet as he approached the pair. "He was saying your names so much I was just about to come looking for you."

"Sorry," said Sarah. "I just wanted to finish with everything in the greenhouse before I came in."

"Ah-mah-dah-pay," babbled Omid.

"You want something?" asked Clem.

"Actually, I think he was saying he made this." Jet handed Sarah a piece of paper while Clem set Omid on the floor. Looking at the paper, Clem saw it was a messy smear of colors that collided in the center of the page to form a large brown blob.

"Patty let Omid try finger painting today," said Jet as Sarah handed Clem the paper. "She said it took him a few minutes to make that, and almost an hour to clean up everything else he touched, including himself."

"Pay! Pay!" cheered Omid as he slapped his hands across the paper in Clem's hands.

"Ah, he made his first drawing," said Clem as she handed the paper back to Sarah. "Isn't that great?"

"And I missed it," realized Sarah.

"Don't worry, Patty said he wanted to make lots more," assured Jet. "You can ask her about it as soon as she—"

"Clear a path, here comes the post-apocalyptic party ball!" Patty and Anthony burst in from the front door, the former toting a very large bucket and the latter a pair of large fire extinguishers, all of which they set on the floor.

"What happened?" asked Sarah as she approached the pair. "Was there a fire?"

"Other than in the fireplace?" clarified Clem.

"No, but we really should get some extinguishers for such an occasion," said Sin without looking away from the window he was staring out of.

"Add it to the list for my May trip," suggested Devlin as he kicked his feet up onto the couch's armrest. "Patty already tapped me out on her party supplies for this last trip."

"Which was totally worth it," said Patty as she knelt down over her bucket. "Because fire extinguishers aren't just good for putting out fires."

Peering into the bucket, Clem could see a case of beer stacked on top of another case of beer being flanked by a couple of taller bottles. There was also a simmering white fog settling in the bottom of the bucket.

"Want a cold beer partner?"

"Cold?" Clem reached into to bucket and was shocked to the find the bottles were frigid to the touch.

"Freshly cooled by yours truly," announced Anthony as he gestured to the fire extinguishers he set on the floor.

"You can cool things with those?" asked Sarah.

"If they're the type that use carbon dioxide," explained Jet.

"Sure glad you spoke up about that earlier when I told Devlin to just grab any extinguishers. I thought the people I saw do this on TV said any kind would work," said Patty as she pulled a couple of beers out of the case. "Now let's drink up while it's still cold," said Patty as she offered the beers to Sarah and Clem. "These aren't like that that cheap crap we had on New Year's, I made sure to tell Devlin to grab a couple of my favorite ales."

"Wait, you're not giving them beer?" asked Sin as he turned away from the window.

"We've had it before," assured Clem as she took the bottles. "And we've had to kill walkers, and worry about people hurting us, and learn how to take care of a baby."

"And keep this whole farm thing going," added Patty. "Pretty sure if anyone has earned a beer, it's them."

"Yeah really Granddad," said Jet. "Everything that's happened and you're still worried about us drinking beer?"

"For real man, I had my first beer when I was twelve," said Anthony as he twisted a cap off a bottle. "And I turned out okay."

"You should mellow out and have a drink yourself Sin," suggested Patty.

"I don't like beer," he said as he looked away.

"What about wine?" asked Patty as she pulled the taller bottles out of the bucket. "We got white and red."

Sin stared out the window for a second, then looked over at Patty. "What kind of white?"

"It's just some fancy for Sam's Club standards wine but I remember it being pretty good at our Christmas bash in Tulsa," explained Devlin as he sat up. "I prefer red myself but it's good if you like white wine."

"And Devlin grabbed us some wine glasses too, which we also put in the bucket, so we got chilled wine in chilled fancy glasses."

Sin turned back to the window, only to turn back to Patty. "What the hell," he said as he took one of the bottles from Patty and examined the label.

"Here." Clem offered a bottle to Sarah, who hesitated. "Come on, it's April Fool's Day."

"Do people drink on April Fool's Day?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know," shrugged Clem.

"How about we drink to finally getting a rainy day?" suggested Jet as he joined the girls' conversation. "Which means we get an afternoon off from having to haul water across the field a few cans at a time?"

"Yeah, let's drink to that." Clem watched as Sarah's expression slowly morphed from one of apprehension to a cautious smile.

"Why not?" Sarah took the bottle and twisted the cap off, prompting Clem to do the same, which took a lot more effort than she was expecting.

"Oh, we should clink glasses—or bottles I guess," suggested Sarah.

"And say cheers," added Clem.

"Or chai-yo, which is Thai for cheers," suggested Jet.

The trio thrust their bottles forward. "Chai-yo!" they said in near unison with the clinking of glass. Clem threw her head back and swallowed a few big gulps of ale. The taste was pungent, but not nearly as bad the beer she tried on New Year's. It was an odd mix of something hardy, almost wood like, with something sweeter, like bubble-gum. Clem didn't exactly like it, but she could probably stomach to drink more of it, and looking at Sarah's and Jet's faces, she suspected they felt the same.

"Bah-bah!" demanded Omid as he stretched up to take the beer.

"Tell me we're not giving a baby alcohol," pleaded Sin as he stopped pouring wine into a tall glass.

"Of course not," said Sarah as she raised her bottle out of reach.

"But I did grab something for the little guy." Devlin removed a bottle of cola from the bucket and twisted the cap off. "Patty mentioned you gave him one of these on New Year's."

"Did she mention it was almost impossible to get him to sleep after that?" asked Sarah.

"It's… like one in the afternoon," said Clem as she checked her watch. "And besides, he wants to party too."

"Bah-bah!" demanded Omid as he stretched out his hands for his treat.

"Here you go buddy, have something sweet on us." Devlin handed Omid the bottle and Clem helped him lift it up to his lips. Cola dribbled onto his shirt as he lifted his head back to drink more. Clem was afraid he was going to spill half the bottle before he finally lowered it and took a breath.

"Ah-lah-dah-ah-bree!" he said before immediately drinking more.

"All right, now that we're all getting nice and buzzed, I say we sit down, listen to some music, play some poker, eat some choice junk food I managed to dig out of our trailer, and just kick back for the rest of the day."

Patty tossed a pack of cards and a wad of worn bills on the table in front of the couch while Anthony hauled over a big box. The box had wrapped jerky, sugary candies, not-entirely stale chips, and a single pack of freeze-dried ice-cream in it. While Clem fished out something to eat, Patty turned on their CD player. Between the warm sensation brewing in her stomach and the literal warmth of the fire drying her clothes as rock music filled the air and sweet treats filled her mouth, Clem felt her worries melting away as she sat down to spend an evening with friends and family.

Everyone initially joined in the poker game while alternating between sipping their drinks, enjoying their snacks, and making small talk with each other. Sin dropped out after only a few hands, admitting he wasn't a big fan of poker, and Sarah followed not long after that for the same reason. While playing poker, Clem could overhear the two talking, and distinctly heard Sin telling Sarah his wife had been a fan of Pink Floyd too.

Omid kept moving around the room at a frantic pace, likely still deep into his sugar rush. He would shout things, climb on and off the couch, and even try to take cards from people as they played. Eventually, Devlin managed to pull the toddler into his orbit by letting him choose cards. It only took three hands for Devlin to lose all of his money, which he didn't mind. Tapped out he went to converse with Sin while Sarah played with Omid with a renewed sense of vigor.

Clem did her best to stay in the game, but her head feeling lighter with every sip of beer she took and the generally relaxed mood of the party made it hard for her to stay competitive. After gambling the rest of what little money she had left on two pair only for Jet to call her bluff, Clem left the game broke but no poorer in any way that mattered to her.

Looking around, Clem saw Omid running back and forth trying to catch a ball Sin and Devlin passed between them while Sarah was spread out on the couch. Not wanting to interrupt Omid's fun, Clem headed for the couch and very careful lied down beside Sarah. She wrapped her friend's arm around her waist and soon felt the arm tenderly squeezing her. Lying there in Sarah's grasp, listening to her soft breathing over the music while watching the others laugh and smile, Clem felt like she was finally home.

"How'd you do?" whispered Sarah.

"You weren't watching?" whispered Clem.

"I was resting my eyes."

"I lost, bad. Patty's a lot better than me, and so is Anthony, and Jet too."

"I'm sorry," said Sarah.

"It's fine, I don't really care, but I would like to know who wins." Clem sat up, prompting Sarah to as well. Clem watched as Anthony raised his bet and tossed a few more bills into the pile.

"All right, I'm out," said Patty as she lowered her cards. "I'm not throwing away any more money this hand."

"That just leaves you kid," said Anthony with a confident smirk. "You in or out?"

"I amm…" Jet deliberately drew out the word 'am' while he clearly stalled for time. What Clem found odd was he didn't actually sound unsure, as if he was just trying to keep Anthony in suspense. "All in!" Jet suddenly pushed his entire pile of money into the pot.

"Whoa, what?" said Patty as she sat up. "Mister minimum bet only must finally have a hot hand."

"Or he's bluffing," added Anthony.

"Only one way to find out," said Jet in an uncharacteristically cocky tone. "You in or out?"

"I think that beer has gone to your head kid," speculated Anthony.

"So does that mean you're in?" asked Jet, sounding no less confident while Anthony continued to stare in response.

"Guess I'm playing one on one with whoever wins this hand," noted Patty as she watched Anthony slide all his money into the center.

"I'm in," he stated with no uncertainty. "So kid, show me—"

A large crash cut through the music as everyone jumped to their feet. Patty shut off the music while Devlin rushed over to a now broken window.

"Shit, where are the guns?" Clem heard Anthony ask as she hurried over to the window for a better look.

"They're all in our vehicles," answered Sarah as Clem arrived in time to see Devlin pick up something lying amongst the broken glass.

"What is it?" she asked as she moved in for a closer look.

"I… I think this is one of our spatulas from the grill," said Devlin as he held up the utensil.

"How did—"

"Oh God." Sin's words prompted everyone else to crowd around the broken window he was looking out of. Just getting closer to it sent a chill down Clem's spine as a frigid gale blew through the broken glass. Looking past Sin and Devlin, Clem watched in terror as she saw trees violently swaying in the wind while what sounded like a massive train barreled out of control somewhere behind the black clouds that had blanketed the sky.

"Jesus," spoke an awestruck Patty. "If I didn't know better, I'd say a hurricane was coming."

"Or a tornado," announced Anthony, terror grasping his voice.

"We should go to the storm shelter," realized Sin.

"He's right," said Devlin he backed away from the window. "Let's move, now!"

Devlin's order sent everyone scrambling. Sarah grabbed Omid while Jet grabbed one of the fire extinguishers. He tried putting out the fire in the fireplace, but nothing happened, forcing him to try the other extinguisher which produced just enough of a squirt of chemicals to douse the flames. As he set the extinguisher down, Clem noticed the crestfallen look on his face.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem with as much courage as she could.

"It's… it's not that," said Jet, slurring his words slightly as he spoke. "I was going to win."

"Huh?"

"I noticed Anthony doesn't blink when he bluffs, like he's worried we know he's hiding something, and he didn't blink once when—"

"Clem, Jet, come on!" Patty's yell sent the pair racing to the backdoor. Taking a single step outside, Clem felt the wind hit her with such force she was nearly knocked backwards into the house along with the hat it blew off her head. She only made it a few steps forward before being forced to step to the side and be shoved up against the house by the unrelenting wind. The terrible rumbling she heard was even louder now while an uneven chorus of wood cracking and snapping sounded from every direction.

"Everyone!" yelled Devlin over the noise. "Head for the fence! Use it to pull yourself towards the shelter!" Clem watched as Devlin struggled against the wind for a few seconds before crossing from the house over to the fence. The man dug his hands into the gaps in the chainlink, then waved to the others. "Come on!"

Anthony crossed next and Sin struggled to follow behind him, falling to his knees as he reached the fence. Clem's heart was in her throat as she watched Patty and Sarah group together to go next. The pair locked hands, while Sarah used her free arm to keep Omid tightly grasped against her chest. Clem's heart skipped a beat as they both stumbled forward, looking ready to be bowled over by the wind at any second. It wasn't until Patty grabbed Devlin's arm did Clem finally hear someone shouting in her ear.

"Come on!"

Clem looked into Jet's eyes for a moment, then locked arms with him. She felt her stomach drop as they let go of the side of the house and the full force of the wind felt stronger with each passing step. The pair had to lean into to wind and let their weight push against it just to avoid being knocked off their feet. With the rain blinding her as she moved, Clem could only trust Jet knew where they were going as she felt him leading her arm first to what she hoped was the fence.

Clem suddenly felt herself slamming into something metal and threw out her free hand to find the stiff chainlink between her fingers. Releasing Jet and looking ahead, it felt like sharp pebbles were being tossed at Clem's head as the rain stung her face. Keeping her head down as she pulled herself along, Clem could hear that horrible rumbling sound grow even louder. Looking up, she watched as a lightning strike lit up the sky just long enough to make out the outline of a giant swirling mass of inky blackness just past the edge of the forest.

"Oh God…" The light faded and Clem found herself transfixed by the sight of the dark sky, now knowing what was out there hiding just out of sight. Forcing herself to look back down, Clem saw Devlin had reached the storm hatch buried between the guest house and the fence. Clem started pulling herself along as fast as she could, the roar of the wind becoming deafening as she caught up with the others all lined up behind Devlin as he tried to reach the hatch.

Devlin tried pulling open the hatch with one hand while clinging to the chainlink, but the wind almost immediately slammed it shut. Another, louder chorus of cracking and snapping sounded over the roar of wind as Clem spotted trees on the horizon falling over almost in sync with each other. Clem instincts drove her to move forward but she couldn't; Jet was right in front of her, who was stuck behind Patty and Sarah, who were waiting behind Sin and Anthony, who were all watching in vain as Devlin tried to juggle the impossible of opening the hatch against the wind while clinging to the distant fence for stability.

After another failed attempt, Clem watched as Sin moved past Anthony and hurried to Devlin as quickly as he could through the wind. The two men seemed to confer for a second before Devlin moved a little further along the fence and grabbed the post instead of the chainlink, then Sin moved forward and grabbed Devlin's free hand. Clem watched as the older man moved against the wind just long enough to grab hold of the storm hatch's handle, then Devlin pulled on Sin's arm, effectively using him as a human hope to pull the hatch open.

As soon as the hatch was wide enough to pass through, Anthony bolted from the fence and hurried inside. Patty followed behind him, doing her best to lead Sarah by the arm while she clung to Omid for dear life. Clem's heart was in her throat as she watched them struggle to move against the wind, terrified it would topple them at any moment or that the funnel cloud would suddenly appear on top of them and suck them away into dark sky never to be seen again.

Patty reached the hatch, then dragged Sarah far enough forward that she could reach the edge. Clem watched anxiously as Sarah threaded her legs into the hole, then disappeared underground, Patty following right behind her. Without a word, Clem felt Jet grabbing her arm and they moved in tandem as they tried to cross the short few feet from the fence to the hatch. Clem wasn't so much walking anymore as being dragged forward as it felt like the wind would pull her out of Jet's grasp any second now.

Crossing in front of the open hatch, the door blocked most of the wind and Clem almost fell forward as the sudden break from it caused her to nearly lose her balance. Edging towards the hatch, Clem briefly caught sight of Sin and Devlin and the agonized expressions on both their faces. The door to hatch shook in place as the wind tried to wrest it from Sin's aged hands. Jet let go of Clem's arm and hurried into the open hatch, Clem following right behind him, threading her legs through the opening and dropping into the dark pit without a second thought.

"Come on!" Clem didn't know who was yelling until she saw Patty move into the light and start climbing back up the ladder. "We gotta keep the door open long enough for Sin and Devlin to get in here!"

Clem felt someone brushing past her in the dark and watched as Jet climbed the ladder after Patty. Patty tried pushing against the door with one hand while clinging to the ladder with the other, but Jet climbed past her. He stuck the upper half of his body past the top of the hatch, then carefully pivoted in place on the ladder until his back was pressed against the door. Jet stretched out his hands and braced himself against the opposite edge of the opening while his back pushed on the door. Patty quickly emulated Jet's tactic, moving up a little further and turning herself around to do the same.

"Granddad!" yelled Jet at the top of his lungs. "Hurry!"

Clem watched in horror as the hatch nearly slammed shut as it knocked Patty off the ladder and nearly Jet too. Clem was about to race to Jet's aid as he strained with all his might to keep the door even cracked, but Patty scurried back up the ladder and put herself in position. Working together, they managed to push the door open just enough for someone to come tumbling in between the pair's arms.

Sin fell forward onto the ground, landing on his shoulder before crumbling onto his side with a painful yelp. Clem hurried over to the man and pulled as hard as she could to help him off the floor. Slowly rising from where he fell, Clem managed to guide Sin forward on his knees towards the nearest wall just as Devlin dropped feet first into the shelter. As soon he landed on the floor, Patty and Jet both fell off the ladder, collapsing into a mess of agonized human bodies as the hatch slammed firmly shut and the shelter was plunged into darkness.

Clem couldn't see anything but could hear voices all around her, some groaning in pain while a couple other breathed loudly while. The sound of Omid crying in a corner cut through all of them, and behind that was the roar of the storm, sounding more like an angry ocean surging above them than the wind anymore. Clem just stood there in the darkness, unsure what to do until she heard a voice call her name.

"Clementine," spoke Sin just above a whisper.

"Yeah?" she responded in the direction she thought she heard Sin speak.

"I have a flashlight… in my right hip pocket," spoke the man in-between deep breaths. "I need you to get it."

"Why me?"

"Because… I can't feel my fingers right now." The words felt like a pin had just pricked Clem's stomach. She reached out into the darkness, finding something that she tried locating the side of. "My right, your left." Clem started feeling her way down the other side of what she assumed was Sin, feeling strange as she did. Eventually, her fingers brushed past what she was fairly sure was a belt, and with a bit more work she located a pocket and the tiny light stuffed inside. Pulling it out and feeling around for the button, she suddenly found herself looking directly at Sin as he held up his hands to block out the light.

"Sorry," said Clem as she lowered the flashlight.

"It's okay." Clem noticed a series of dark bruises running across the fingers on one of Sin's hands, while there were purple and red marks around the wrist on the other.

"Speaking professionally," mumbled Sin in-between deep breaths as he did his best to rub his stiff hands together. "Whoever designed this shelter… overlooked some critical design flaws." Clem wanted to laugh, but couldn't as she watched Sin wearily try to regain feeling in his hands.

"Is everyone okay?" called a shaken Patty through the darkness. Following her voice with the light, Clem saw the woman sitting on the floor near the ladder, rubbing her shoulder. Not far from her was Jet doing the same and Devlin on the ladder fiddling with the hatch until it produced a loud click. Eventually, the light fell on Sarah sitting in the corner, a sobbing Omid still cradled in her arms.

"It's okay," Clem struggled to say as she crawled across the ground to them. "It's okay, I'm here." Clem held up the light and moved in close so Omid could see her face. "I'm right here, it's okay, we're all okay." Omid turning his head and meeting eyes with Clem seemed to settle them both; Omid stopped crying and Clem started breathing normally again.

Adjusting the light a little, Clem finally could see Sarah's face. Her eyes were bloodshot and bugged out, seemingly frozen with the rest of her face in a state of wide-awake terror. "Sarah." Clem's whisper received no answer. "Sarah," Clem said a little louder.

"Sah-rah." Omid's voice finally seemed to reach her. Sarah blinked a few times and looked around, as if she had just woken up.

"Are you okay?" whispered Clem.

"I… I think so," answered Sarah, sounding confused. She adjusted her grip on Omid, then started stroking his hair with her free hand, whenever to soothe him or herself Clem wasn't sure. "Is… is everyone—"

"Oh God!" Anthony's panicked yelp caused Clem to spin around. Her light found its way to the young man as he seemed to be pacing back and forth across the short distance between walls, almost like he was looking for a way out and couldn't accept there wasn't one. "I… I'm gonna die down here!"

"We're not going to die," refuted Clem.

"You don't know that!" Clem flinched as Anthony raised his voice, yet it was the look of absolute terror on his face that frightened her more. His eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of his head while every muscle on his face looked pulled taut. "This—this—this isn't a shelter, it's a god damn prison cell, or a coffin!"

"Anthony, calm down," urged a nervous Patty as she stood up.

"I mean, it's just four walls, there's not even any lights or—fuck, there's not even any vents! I'm gonna suffocate!" Clem found herself aiming the light up at the ceiling and was disturbed to see Anthony was right.

"No one is going to suffocate," stated Sin, raising his voice as he did.

"How would you know!"

"Because I've worked in civil engineering twice as long as you've been alive!"

"Yeah, and—and did you ever examine this death trap before we came down here today?" asked Anthony, more panic creeping into his voice with every word he said.

"There's no way they'd sell a shelter that suffocates people," argued Sin. "That'd be a liability lawsuit just waiting to happen."

"Maybe they figured they could get away with it because most people would never use this damn thing! Companies did shady shit like that all the time right? We could run out of air any minute!"

"If you don't shut up we might," suggested an irate Patty.

"We're not going to run out of air," interjected Jet. "The door isn't even air tight. I could hear this whistling sound above me after it closed so there's at least some air moving in and out of it alone."

"Oh that's great, that damn door is probably defective and the tornado will rip it right off!"

"I locked the door," announced Devlin. "Anthony, man, just relax, okay?"

"Relax!"

"Yeah, we're safe down here, and even if we needed air, which we don't, but if we did, we could risk opening the door for a second to let some in."

Devlin's words suddenly halted Anthony's pacing. He turned and stared at the man for a second, then charged right past him.

"What are you doing!"

"Leaving!" announced Anthony as he rushed up the ladder.

"Shit, stop him!" ordered Patty as she lunged forward and grabbed one of Anthony's legs.

"I'm not staying down here!" yelled Anthony as he tried to reach the door's latch. "I'm going back to the house or my truck! Anywhere but here!"

"You're gonna get yourself killed!" said Devlin as he pulled on Anthony's other leg.

"Or all of us!" added Patty.

Jet sprung forward to help and Clem was about to join him when Anthony fell off the ladder, knocking Patty to the floor with him and nearly toppling Devlin as well. Anthony sprung up in a flash and tried to reach the ladder as Devlin stepped in front of him, grabbing Anthony by the shoulder and collar of his shirt.

"Sit down!" demanded Devlin.

"Let go of me you crazy nigger, I gotta—" Devlin's fist slammed into the side of Anthony's face, knocking him to the floor. Before he could get back up again Devlin put his knee in Anthony's back while he removed his belt. Despite his flailing about, Devlin managed to loop his belt around both of Anthony's wrists and bind them with a forceful tug before tying the end of the belt, and Anthony, to the bottom rung of the ladder.

Anthony demanded to be let go as he struggled against his bonds, a demand no one was willing to entertain. After nearly a minute of cussing and fidgeting in place, Anthony finally stopped, seemingly accepting his fate as he sat there and quietly mumbled to himself. A tense hush fell over the area and everyone seemed to retreat to a different corner to sit out the storm in whatever peace they could muster. Clem left the flashlight on the floor at an angle the illuminated most of the room, then returned to Sarah and Omid.

They didn't say anything, no one did, everyone just sat in silence as they all listened to the constant rumbling above. Every so often there was a loud bang or hard thud against the door that filled Clem with dread. Every time it happened it felt like the storm was announcing its intent to invade their shelter and finish them off. Eventually, the frightening rumble became a less intimidating rushing sound, and then even that faded away as light started streaming into the shelter through the narrow cracks in the door.

Checking her watch, Clem was surprised to see it wasn't even three in the afternoon yet. With the storm seemingly subsiding, there was a long pause before anyone moved to do anything. Eventually, Patty looked at Devlin, which was enough of a signal for him to take action. He maneuvered around Anthony as he climbed up the ladder, then reached for the latch. There was a loud click as he unlocked it, then light came flooding in as he pushed the door open.

"Well?" asked Patty in a quiet voice as she looked up expectedly into the bright light.

"It… it looks clear," reported Devlin, sounding relieved before he climbed out of the shelter. Clem looked over at Sarah and Omid, the former looking exhausted while the latter was quietly whimpering.

"Come on," urged Clem in a calm voice. "Let's go."

Clem helped Sarah to her feet and the pair headed for the exit. Sin and Jet approached the ladder as Patty climbed out.

"Are you okay?" asked Jet as Sin stretched out his trembling hands.

"I… I'm all right," insisted a weary Sin as he slowly wrapped his fingers around the ladder. "My hands are just very sore… as well as my arms… and my shoulders."

"Take your time," urged a sympathetic Devlin. "We wouldn't even have made it in here if not for you."

Slowly, and only somewhat surely, Sin climbed out of the shelter, with Jet right behind him. Next Clem urged Sarah forward, who carefully scaled the ladder with one arm while cradling Omid in the other. Looking down at Anthony while Sarah climbed, she noticed his expression was oddly vacant, his head listing to one side like he was a rag doll. Looking at the red and purple bruise on his cheek, Clem could actually see the outlines of at least two of Devlin's knuckles.

Looking up, she noticed Sarah stepping off the ladder and out of sight. Clem stretched up her leg to pass over the rung Anthony was tied to and climbed up herself. Emerging from the hatch, Clem found a sudden swell of relief in breathing in the fresh cool air. She hadn't even realized how hot and stuffy it had been in the shelter until now. Looking up, the sky was clear and free now, with a bit of orange on the horizon as the sun began to set. Turning her head, Clem could see dark storm clouds to the east and reasoned that was the storm had passed far over them, hopefully.

"Clem?" Clem looked at Sarah, who's face was such a jumbled mess of mixed emotions Clem couldn't be sure what she was feeling. "Can… can you take Omid? My arm is really starting to hurt."

"Oh, sure… sorry," said Clem as she took possession of a still whimpering Omid. "You—" Sarah marched off towards the house, a sudden urgency in the way she walked. Before Clem could go after her, Devlin emerged from the hatch. He looked down at Anthony still tied to the ladder, who could only look back up in response.

"You didn't untie me." Devlin stared at Anthony in response. "Oh come on, is… is this about what I said? I… I'm from Mississippi. I've heard bumfucks say shit like that so often it just kind of gets stuck in your head and I was freaking out and—"

Devlin slammed the hatch shut.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem.

"Giving him a couple of minutes to think," said Devlin as he looked over at Clementine.

"About something he said?" Devlin only stared at the ground in response. "What did he say?" Devlin said nothing. "Was it that word? I've heard it before; nigger."

"From who?" asked Devlin, sounding almost angry. "Did Anthony say that to you before?"

"No, it was a long time ago, and by someone who said all kinds of horrible things I didn't understand," said Clem. "I asked OJ's mom about some of them, and she just told me there's a lot of bad words even adults should never say. I guess that was one of them?"

"Yeah," said Devlin in a low voice.

"What does it mean?"

"It means you’re less than a person, just because of the color of your skin."

"Your skin?"

Devlin held out his hand. "Mine." Devlin gestured to Omid. "His. Your skin. All darker than Anthony or Patty's."

"So?"

"So… some people see that and think that they know you; know that you're no good, know you're a liar, know you're lazy, know you're stupid, or a crook, or a thug, or a killer, or some dumb animal, or any number of horrible things. Just from taking one look at you and seeing your skin is darker than theirs, they know you're a god damn nigger."

"One word means all that?" asked a confused Clem.

"Yeah, it's an ugly word meant to hurt you, made worse by it having nothing to do with who you are but just because of what you look like."

"That… that doesn't make any sense," said Clem as she adjusted her grip on Omid. "I mean, how can someone look at a baby like OJ and think stuff like that about him? That's crazy."

"Yeah, well… some people are crazy," said Devlin with a sigh. "Did… did your parents ever talk to you about something like this? About… what happens when someone says something like that to you?"

"Um… my mom did, on my first day of school," recalled Clem. "Before we left the house, she told me that if any of the other kids called me any names or words I didn't understand, or picked on me because I was a girl, or because I looked different, she wanted me to tell her as soon as I got home."

"And did anyone ever call you anything?"

"Some boys said girls had cooties, and my mom said that was just boys being stupid," said Clem. "There was one boy in the first grade at my old school who always called me an idiot, and I never understood why… do you think he was calling me an idiot because of my skin?"

"I don't know," said Devlin as he shook his head. "People can be ugly to each other for a lot of reasons, and sometimes you're not even sure why. I don't know if Anthony is a racist or just blurted out something he didn't mean while panicking. I'd like to think it's the second one, but either way it's a painful reminder of no matter what I do, I'm still gonna be just a no good nigger in some people's eyes, even now."

"And… what about me? And Omid? Are there people who'd think we're no good because our skin is darker than theirs?" Devlin looked up at Clementine, a bit of sadness in his eyes betraying the sternness he was trying to keep. "Oh…"

"How old were you when the outbreak started?"

"Eight."

"Your mom was probably hoping there be a few more years before she had to tell you… I know mine said she wished I had gotten a little more time before I found out." Devlin took a deep breath. "Take some comfort in one of the few silver linings to everything going to hell is not having to worry about this shit all that much anymore; end of the world tends to rearrange most people's priorities." Devlin looked down at the storm hatch. "But not all of them."

"So, what are you going to do?" asked Clem.

"Nothing really. I'm pretty sure Anthony already knows how I feel about this, so there's nothing left to do but untie him and get back to work, of which we probably have plenty more of now."

"Even though Anthony might think terrible things about you because of the way you look… or because of the way I look?" Clem felt her already racing mind being invaded with disturbing new possibilities as she began to process everything Devlin just told her.

"I had to work around a lot of racist bullshit before the fucking Rapture happened," said Devlin as he opened the hatch. "This is just a drop in the bucket compared to that."

"Can I come up already?" Clem heard Anthony's voice echo from below. "Seriously, I gotta pee and if you leave me here much longer—"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming; I want my belt back." Devlin climbed down the hatch while Clem headed back towards the house, her mind moving from one disturbing revelation to another as she surveyed the damage.

She could see fallen trees in the distance, while large branches and what she could only guess were tiles from their roofs were scattered across the grass both in and outside the fence. Heading for the center of the yard, Clem saw the picnic table they ate at had been blown into the side of the house, one of its benches broken in half. Their grills had all been knocked over and were badly dented all over, and Sarah's greenhouse was gone now.

Looking ahead, Clem could see the entire tent and had been flipped over and was now precariously resting upside down on the far end of the fence, a hundred feet away from where it had been before the storm. Many of the legs were twisted at odd angles and the plastic top torn in numerous places where it had been bent over the fence. And where the tent used to be was Sarah, kneeling in the mud, looking at the pots, tables, and containers of pesticides strewn all across the grass.

"Sarah, I—" Patty came bursting out the back door and immediately hurried over to Clem. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing—I mean, not too much—oh, and here's your hat," babbled Patty as she handed Clem her hat back. "The vehicles are okay, and the house looks all right, except that window is still broken, and I think the roof sprung some leaks judging from the puddles I saw." Patty turned her head suddenly, and Clem looked over to see Jet and Sin approaching from the gate bordering the field. "How are the crops?"

"They're mostly all right actually," said Jet. "A lot of the bean poles blew over, and some of the cucumber and tomato cages, but the plants look okay."

"They're small, right on the ground, and probably didn't create much wind resistance," reasoned Sin as he rubbed his head.

"But something did," said Patty, noting the pessimism in Sin's voice.

"The rainwater collector," concluded a downcast Clem.

"It's… technically still there," said Jet.

"Technically?"

"It's intact… but the roof of the barn is gone," announced Sin.

"Gone?" repeated Clem.

"How's that possible?" asked Patty as she looked around. "None of the other buildings got hit that bad."

"Big open doors on both sides, angular roof… wind probably caught it just right and tore it off." Clem hurried across the yard as fast as she could while carrying Omid and looked through the fence at the barn. Sure enough, its roof was gone, and now there were just four battered and mismatched walls standing around each other. Dismayed by her discovery, Clem slowly walked back to the center of the yard where everyone else was standing.

"The actual barrels and pipes we built are all still there," reported Sin. "But without a roof to collect water for them, they're—"

Sarah started shrieking at the top of her lungs, startling everyone. Looking at her, Clem watched as Sarah started choking for air before collapsing into her own hands, crying hysterically. Just in the time it took for Clem to rush over to her, Sarah fell forward into the mud, keeping one hand on her face while pounding the wet soil with her fist.

"Sah-rah!" Omid tried kicking free from Clem's grip, forcing her to set him on the dirt. "Sah-rah!" he repeated as he hurried over to where Sarah was writhing in the mud, making pained sobs through one hand while beating the ground with other. "Muh-boo! Muh-boo Sah-rah!" cried Omid as he threw himself onto Sarah, wrapping his tiny arms as far around her body as he could. "Muh-boo!" he repeated as loud as he could. "Muh-boo-ah-ha-ha…" Omid's words collapsed into a series of loud cries as he clung to a still hysterical Sarah.

Clem knelt down close as Sarah struggled to breathe through her own sobbing. "It's okay," Clem whispered in her ear as she placed her hands on Sarah's shoulders. "It's oh—"

"Not it's not!" shrieked Sarah as she raised her head, revealing her face was racked with pain and covered in mud before immediately burying it back in the dirt as she started crying again.

"Okay, it's not," admitted Clem, fighting her every instinct to cry herself. "But… we still got each other. Okay? That's all I want right now, not a farm, me and OJ just want you to feel better. So please… please stop crying. I'll do anything for you, anything, because I love you more than anything, so please… please just stop crying…"

Clem felt herself beating back her own tears as she listened to Sarah continue to shed hers. She was just about to break down herself when she noticed Sarah's free hand had stopped beating the ground and was just laying there now. Clem reached for it, trying to wrap her fingers around Sarah's, only for Sarah to grasp Clem's hand first, squeezing it so hard it hurt.

"Come on," said Patty as she knelt down beside Sarah. "The Brave surely has plenty of water right now. Why don't you go get cleaned up, then lie down for a while? The rest of us can handle cleaning up in the mean time, and… we'll figure out how to fix this shit tomorrow morning after we've all had a good night sleep. Okay?"

Sarah finally stopped crying, although Clem couldn't be sure if it was because of what Patty said or she was finally too tired to cry. Either way, she didn't resist Patty's attempt to help her to her feet. Clem collected Omid, who clung to Sarah for as long as he could, then Patty helped Sarah stand up. She was covered in mud now and just followed quietly behind Patty and Clem as they all headed across the yard to the driveway.

Reaching the Brave, Clem was glad to see it looked intact, but stepping inside after Patty, she immediately noticed there was a massive crack on the right side of the windshield. Examining it further, the glass didn't appear in any danger of actually breaking, but the crack was yet another reminder of what was quickly becoming a terrible day. Hearing Sarah coming up the stairs behind her, Clem hurried over to her and stood between Sarah and the front, hoping she wouldn't notice the windshield. She didn't and just kept shuffling towards the bathroom as Patty came running out.

"Okay, I rigged up this little bucket over the shower head like a week ago, figuring it can collect water than I can dump out in occasional big bursts instead of that annoying ass on-and-off squirting the plumbing has been doing lately. Guess you'll be the first one to test it since this is the first time we've had water in here in a few weeks."

"Okay…" said Sarah in a barely audible whisper.

"And… I think you should take one of these." Patty opened her hand to reveal a small green pill. It wasn't a gel-capsule like the cold-medicine Clem had seen, but flat and made out of a chalky substance.

"What is it?" asked Sarah.

"It's a chill pill." Clem and Sarah just looked at Patty in confusion. "It's a Xanax, and it'll help you relax and feel better, trust me." Sarah looked at the pill with apprehension. "Look, doctors give these to people who have problems with anxiety, and if one had seen what we just saw outside, they'd tell you they'd want you to take this to feel better. I'm not going to make you take it but I honestly think it'll help right now. Not all medicine is for diseases and physical pain, there's ones like this for when you're miserable and just need some relief."

Sarah looked up at Patty, then took the pill. She popped it in her mouth, then took a swig of water from a cup Patty handed her. "Thank you… both of you," said Sarah in a barely audible whisper.

"It's fine," assured Clem, forcing some optimism into her voice for Sarah's sake.

"Just go get cleaned up and you can just lie down in the bedroom afterwards, all right?" Patty gave Sarah a gentle pat on the shoulder and a smile. Sarah headed into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The pair stood there in silence for a few seconds, then they heard the sound of intermediately running water and let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Jesus…" mumbled Patty as she rubbed her head. "Everything is so fucked right now."

"I know," said Clem.

"We can fight off hordes of the dead but get our asses kicked by a fucking tornado," groused Patty as she dug through one of the cabinets.

"And a flood before that," added a downcast Clem. "I'm starting to think it doesn't matter if we ever get rid of the walkers or not, things are never going to get better because of all this other stuff we can't do anything about."

"Come on, don't say that," insisted Patty as she pocketed something. "We'll… we'll figure something out. Our plants looked like they survived, so we just got to fix… everything else so we can keep taking care of them."

"But how we fix this stuff?" asked Clem. "And so much of it."

"Yeah, really, I don't even know where to start," admitted Patty.

"Me neither." Adjusting her grip on Omid, Clem smelled something. "Okay, now I do. OJ needs changing."

"I'll go get your baby supplies from the house."

Patty headed out while Clem took Omid into the bedroom. She undressed him, and Patty returned with everything she needed to change him as well, something Clem found oddly relaxing in light of everything else that had happened today. After fitting him with a new diaper, Clem used a baby wipe on his face next, cleaning up his dried tears and crusty nose. Omid was strangely cooperative the entire time, which Clem found concerning.

She was about to take him out when the bedroom door slid open. Clem was surprised to see Sarah standing in the threshold, dressed in nothing but her underwear. Before Clem could say anything, Sarah immediately headed for the bed, ducked under the covers, and wormed her way up to the pillows resting at the top of the bed. Seeing Sarah so forcibly place herself in bed, Clem picked up Omid and prepared to leave when the toddler finally started to stir.

"Sah-rah… Sah-rah!" he repeated as he reached his arms out towards her.

"Just let Sarah rest, we—"

"It's okay…" Clem heard Sarah slowly say from under the covers. She moved her head and arm out from under the blanket and gestured to Omid. "Come Omid, you want to take a nap too."

"Sah-rah." Clem set Omid on the bed and he walked over to where Sarah was lying.

"You're worried about me too, aren't you?" The way Sarah spoke sounded uncharacteristically at ease, and even the way she took hold of Omid seemed different; slower and without the kind of deliberate energy she usually applied when handling Omid.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she walked over to the edge of the bed.

"Yeah," said Sarah as she cradled Omid against her body.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So, that pill helped."

"Yeah," repeated Sarah. "It made me sleepy and my whole body feels… sleepy."

"That sounds kind of like when we drink too much whiskey," noted Clem.

"Sorta," mumbled Sarah. "But my head feels clear, instead of all foggy."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that, I'm not thinking about anything right now, and if I try, it just kind of fades away real quick."

"That doesn't sound good."

"No, it's really good," insisted Sarah without much authority in her voice. "Most of the time, I can't stop thinking when I go to bed."

"About what?"

"About stuff we need to do or that will go wrong. I try not to, but I'll keep thinking about it and sometimes, most of the time, I don't get much sleep."

"I… I didn't know that. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to worry you," mumbled Sarah. "I didn't think there was anything you could do. I didn't know Patty knew there was a pill that helps."

"Me neither." Clem watched as Sarah turned her head to look directly at her.

"I really miss it…" confessed Sarah, sounding half asleep already. "Miss what?"

"Just… not having to think about all this stuff," said Sarah as she turned away, burying her head in her pillow. "When you told me my dad was lying to me… I hated him for it."

"He—"

"He was trying to protect me," recited Sarah. "I didn't used to believe that, at least, not entirely. But now, thinking about all this stuff we have to do, how dangerous everything is, not just walkers or people, but how easily we could just lose everything…" Even in her sedated state, Clem could hear the tension rising Sarah's voice. "I… I'm starting to think I'd do the same thing." Clem noticed Sarah stroking Omid's hair when she said that.

"I know how you feel," said Clem. "I lied and told Omid the deer would be okay after Anthony shot it, and I didn't want to tell him he was eating it later. Right now, he's probably too young to even understand, but when he gets older—"

"Are we really going to tell him all this stuff?" mumbled Sarah.

"I… I don't know Sarah. Devlin just told me something I hadn't thought about before, and I think my mom tried to tell me about it once, and now I'm wondering what else she wanted to tell me but didn't get a chance to because she was waiting for me to be older and…"

"What did Devlin tell you?"

"It's… complicated. I'll tell you tomorrow," assured Clem. "And it'll be a while before Omid is old enough to understand these things, so we can worry about that later. Maybe by then, things will be a little better and there won't be as much to worry about for him… or us."

"I hope so…"

Clem looked over to see both Sarah and Omid's eyes were shut now as they breathed softly under the covers. She leaned over the bed and kissed Omid on the forehead, then did the same for Sarah. "I love you both."

"I love you too…" mumbled Sarah without opening her eyes.

Clem left the pair to rest, then headed back outside.

"How is she?" Clem turned her head to see Patty standing by the door, lit cigarette in hand.

"She's okay for now I think," said Clem. "She said the pill really helped."

"That's good," said Patty before taking a drag off her cigarette.

"She said she has trouble sleeping because she can't stop thinking about all this stuff that needs to be done," continued Clem. "And that pill cleared her mind and now she's not thinking about it."

"Yeah, Xanax are usually pretty good for mellowing people out."

"Do we have any more of them?"

"You don't want one, do you?" asked Patty.

"No, I just thought if Sarah has trouble sleeping, maybe they could help."

"If she just has trouble sleeping I can probably dig out something lighter for that. We really can't be giving her Xanax every night though."

"Why not? Will it hurt her?"

"Possibly, but probably not, other than she might feel a bit hungover in the mornings."

"Hungover? Like when you drink too much whiskey or beer?"

"No, not anywhere that bad, just a little groggy," said Patty before she took another drag off her cigarette. "It's just, we only got a couple of bottles of them, and once they're used up it'd be hard to find any more, so we should probably save them for… well situations like this. I mean, you saw that pharmacy I tried to raid back on our first outing together. They put up damn walls because one the first things people want when shit gets bad is drugs. And why not, drugs numb the pain of life, and there's no shortage of pain right now."

"Is that why you smoke?" asked Clem as she watched Patty take another drag off her cigarette. "You usually seem to do that when you're upset."

"Yeah, they help calm me down," said Patty as she took the cigarette butt out of her mouth and examined it. "Problem is when you use them so much you start to kind of need them to get by. I actually thought I had quit smoking; I haven't had a cigarette since we left Tulsa. But, I still stashed away a pack from the Sam's Club because I think I knew if I didn't have any smokes around to even me out… I might lose my shit when things got bad."

"You mean like Sarah did?" asked Clem.

"Something like that." Patty dropped the butt on the ground and stomped it out. "All right, we got a couple hours of daylight left, might as well not let them go to waste."

Patty headed for the gate and started moving towards the field, where Clem could see Jet and Devlin were standing up bean poles. Clem moved to follow Patty when she noticed something lying against the fence. It was a large piece of wood, and flipping it over she discovered it was the sign Jet had hung earlier. One of the corners was badly dented now and there was a large crack running across it. Looking over at the Brave, Clem realized the sign was likely what hit the windshield, but looking past that she noticed the front porch of the house.

Clem moved up the steps, grabbed a chair from inside, and hung the sign again. Taking a step back to examine it, she found it was less pleasant to look at now with the large crack in it, but Clem reasoned it was better than just tossing it out. She sighed, then headed towards the field and figured she could start with checking the tomato cages, just like she had done this morning.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 73 - Material

"You ready up there!"

"Yeah!" yelled Clementine as she looked down at Patty from her perch up on the small catwalk surrounding the billboard.

"All right, hang tight!" Clem actually did clutch the railing tightly as she watched Patty head through an opening in the fence surrounding a dusty lot. A free-standing square of red roofing in front of a small building suggested this was once a gas station. But the various trailers, bundles of long pipes and massive spools of wire made it clear it had become something else by the time of the outbreak. It hardly mattered what though as all Clem and Patty were concerned with was the yellow piece of construction equipment with a mechanical arm attached to a giant metal shovel parked in the back.

"All right," crackled Patty's voice over the radio. "Keep an eye out, this thing is loud and slow, so I can't exactly drive out of here in it if something comes running, assuming it even works at all."

"Got it." Clem briefly looked down as Patty climbed into the backhoe's cab then fixed her eyes on the horizon. A loud mechanical churning filled the air as Clem carefully scanned for threats. She slowly turned her head past the road, carefully eyed the door of an old building across the street, watched an open warehouse for signs of movement, and kept turning in place until she found herself staring out an empty field peppered by short, blooming trees.

The engine suddenly got much louder and Clem turned back to the lot in time to watch the backhoe slowly roll forward a few feet. It stopped, then the mechanical arm on the front began to extend, producing a series of loud whirs with every inch it pivoted. The large metal scoop moved down to the ground, then back up, then down, then left, and so forth until Patty finally seemed to figure out the controls. The scoop sliced into the ground and, after a lot more awkward short movements, eventually pulled out a pile of dirt.

Clem headed for the ladder as she heard the engine shut off. Climbing down in a hurry and racing over to Patty as she emerged from the backhoe, she saw a big smile on the woman's face that matched her own.

"It works?" asked an excited Clem as she looked down at the big hole.

"It works!" cheered Patty as she looked at the vehicle. "Surprised all it needed was a little routine maintenance. When Sin asked us to find one of these things I didn't think we'd actually find one, let alone on the first day."

"So now what?" asked Clem. "Should we drive it back?"

"It would take hours with how slow it moves and use up tons of diesel we don't have on hand," said Patty as she walked over to a long flat trailer. "But, we unhook one of our semis, drive it back, hitch it to this thing, drive the backhoe onto it, then when can haul it back to the farm."

"That sounds… complicated," said Clem.

"Not really, it's just going to be a time-consuming hassle," said Patty as she looked at the trailer's hitch. "Seeing as it's past noon and backhoes probably aren't high up on the apocalyptic wish list, we could come back tomorrow and figure it out. For now I'd rather just get back to the farm, in case something did hear us just now and is on its way."

"Sounds good to me."

The pair radioed Devlin and Jet with an update before grabbing their bikes. Clem pedaled down the road a bit, then stopped to look over her shoulder at the billboard she had used as a lookout. Faded orange letters spelling 'Osage' was all that remained of whatever was originally posted on it. They were barely visible through the crude red ones that spelled out their message: DEAD DON'T EAT DEAD, SMELL LIKE THE DEAD. Satisfied they had done enough for today, the pair took off down the interstate and started pedaling north.

This was the first day Clem could remember in a long time where it felt warm out, and the cool air blowing past her face actually felt refreshing for once. It was a sunny day and everywhere Clem looked she could see signs of spring. Small budding flowers poking out of the dirt, tiny little green leaves on the ends of tree branches, and even the air had a certain faint fragrance that hadn't been there yesterday, almost like freshly cut grass.

Reaching the edge of town, Clem found herself slowing down as they approached an intersection. She didn't expect anything from the town itself except the abandoned buildings they passed earlier that looked like all the other buildings they had seen in dozens of small towns. But the intersection itself offered something interesting in the form of odd looking graffiti written out on the pavement in front of each road. Rolling to a stop, Clem found herself pondering their meaning all over again.

"Yo." Clem looked up to find Patty circling her bike. "I told you, some kid probably did that before shit hit the fan. Some wannabe tagger getting all cryptic with his lettering."

"I know, but I still kind of want to know what it says," admitted Clem as she studied the symbols. The road ahead and to her left were both marked with angular shapes that resembled a square with an eye and a giant open mouth was ready to eat two slices of pizza that each had a pepperoni on the center of them. Looking over her shoulder at the road they came in on, there were six squares in a row, some missing sides, some with dots in the middle, but no two were the same. Past them was the number twenty, the only symbol Clem recognized.

"Why don't you take a picture?" suggested Patty as she pedaled onto the road leading southwest. "Then you can solve the mysteries of bad street art back home."

Clem removed a camera from her bike's saddlebag and snapped a quick picture of the bigger piece of graffiti. She waited a few seconds until she could see it developing, then tucked it and the camera back into the bag with the others photos she had taken today. Then she hopped on her bike and pedaled after Patty as fast as she could, wind whipping at the edges of her leather jacket.

The pair biked past a mile or so of suburbs, then gas stations and small shops begin to appear along the sides of the road, until eventually old brick buildings emerged on the horizon, marking the edge of downtown. An old one-story brick building with a big RV parked beside it caught the pair's attention. Patty and Clem rode right to the back of the Brave, hopped off their bikes, and set them in place on the rack.

Moving around to the front, Clem eyed the now lifeless neon sign reading 'Simple Simon's' before pushing past the glass doors. The interior was largely empty, like Clem had seen earlier, but one notable difference was the sight of a large green table slowly sliding its way out of a back room on its side. Approaching the would be escapee furniture, Clem and Patty found the source of its movement.

"Figured you two would be done by now," said Patty with a smile.

"Figured you two would be back sooner," retorted Devlin with a smile.

"Clem had to stop and admire some street art," said Patty.

"What is this thing?" asked Clem. "It doesn't look like a normal table."

"It's a ping pong table," said Jet with a smile.

"These people have a killer employee's lounge," said Devlin as he looked over his shoulder. "My place desperately needs some entertainment and there's a whole bunch of stuff back there I wouldn't mind taking home."

"But this is the only one that folds up," said Jet. "And it's still pretty heavy."

"Clem, hold the door open for us," said Patty as she maneuvered closer to Devlin. "I'll help with the heavy lifting." Working together to move the ping pong table outside, Clem thought it was a shame they were nearly done with their scouting trip. Biking across open country roads and picking up a few assorted luxuries for their home had been a very welcome break from the slow and tedious process of personally watering their entire field by hand and checking every seedling to see if anything had changed from the previous day, every day. And that was just one of many tasks that needed doing with each new day on a farm.

Managing to fit the ping pong table inside the Brave, everyone filed in and maneuvered past the various boxes and bags of assorted goods to reach their seats. Gazing out the windshield, Clem eyed rustic multi-storied buildings that made up the heart of downtown Pawhuska. They only took up a couple of blocks and looked much older than anything else in town, but Clem couldn't help wondering what the story behind them was, or what Pawhuska was like before the outbreak. But before long, they disappeared from sight and they were well on their way back to their secluded farm.

The barrier of trees that surrounded their home had thickened slightly as their emerging leaves slowly created a more effective shroud from the outside world. Rolling across the worn path leading through the woods, past the three budding saplings rooted alongside the main road, and up to chainlink fence surrounding the house and driveway, Clem let out a little sigh of disappointment.

Devlin got out to open the gate while Jet picked up a box Clem could see was full of paints, brushes and what looked like a long board sticking out of the top. Clem grabbed a couple of bags of goods herself, then headed out of the Brave as soon as she heard the familiar squeak of the parking brake. She went into the house and left one bag in the kitchen and the other bag in the living room while Jet carried his box up to his room. Moving back outside, Clem found her eyes landing on the storm shelter tucked behind Devlin's guest house.

She never actually had gotten a good look at it since moving in, and she suddenly wanted to rectify it. It was just a small cement slab near a corner of the fence, and approaching it she discovered a metal door built into it. Opening it and peering inside, Clem was disappointed to see it was just a single tiny room with four white walls. She kind of hoped it would look like a basement; instead it looked like a cell in an underground prison.

"Get that end would you?" Hearing Patty's voice behind her, Clem closed the hatch and ran back around to the front of the guest house where she found Devlin and Patty carrying the ping pong table forward.

"Here, I'll get the door," said Clem as she darted ahead. Following the pair inside, Clem though the guest house looked much more quaint than the main one, being a one-story building with a cozy fireplace like their home in Spokeston. Watching the two set-up the ping pong table in the middle of the spacious but sparsely decorated living room, it made her think about the many games she and Sarah dragged home over their first summer together. "Oh, you guys got the ping pong table set-up," said Jet as he hurried inside. "Can I go first?"

"Sure," said Devlin. "Let me—"

"Actually I was hoping I could go first," interjected Patty suddenly.

"Really?" asked Clem, surprised by how badly she wanted to play ping pong.

"I mean, please?" begged Patty as she clasped her hands together. "Maybe just go with Clem to see if Sarah needs any help in the field and give me some time to play with Devlin?"

"If you really want to go first, sure," shrugged Jet before turning to Clem, who only shrugged in response. The pair headed back outside, briefly hearing the sound of a ball bouncing across a table before moving out of earshot. Clem and Jet maneuvered around the fences and crossed the field, taking care not to step on any of the small sprouts now poking out of every mound. There they found Sarah on her knees digging a hole next to a droopy little green plant.

"I thought we finished all the planting like two weeks ago," said Jet.

"We did," said Sarah as she kept digging.

"Is this a bean sprout?" asked Clem as she knelt down for a better look. "It's like a little vine, that's—"

"A problem." Clem watched as Sarah reached over to grab a long wooden stick lying in the dirt beside her. She planted it in the hole, then carefully tugged on the sprout until the end of it wrapped around the base of the pole.

"I thought you were going to just let the beans grow on the corn stalks," said Jet.

"I was, but I didn't think about how corn takes a lot longer to grow than beans," rambled Sarah, anger buried in her voice as she crawled over to the next bean sprout. "So now, I got to put these poles out for them or they'll just grow into tangled messes on the ground and we won't get many beans."

As Sarah started digging her next hole, Clem looked over to see a series of bean poles running across the entire length of the field. "Did you do all these by yourself?"

"I've been doing it since right after you left," answered a weary Sarah.

"Granddad would have—"

"He's watching Omid while finishing his plans for the irrigation trench," said Sarah without looking up. "Anthony helped me with most of them, but he saw something near the fence a few minutes ago and went to see what it was."

"Saw something? Did—"

"It was definitely an animal, probably a deer," said Sarah. "He kept saying he wanted to hunt it so I told him to just take my rifle; hopefully it won't come back and eat all our sprouts while we're sleeping."

Noticing there were only a few plants left between Sarah and the end of the fence, Clem knelt down and started digging a hole in front of the plant closest to Sarah, and Jet followed her lead and started digging by the one nearest to Clem.

"Good news," announced Clem as she dug. "Patty and I found a backhoe, and it works. She said we just have to unhook one of the semi-trucks and use it to bring it back. Then we can get started on Sin's irrigation trench."

"Great, that will only take a few weeks, or months, assuming it works," grumbled Sarah as she dug in the dirt with her fingers. "In the mean time, we'll just have to keep doing it a couple of watering cans at a time."

"I thought the rainwater collectors were finished?" Looking up, Clem saw a dozen barrels stacked on top of another fourteen barrels stacked on a tall and very long wood bench Sin had built with Devlin's help. This rainwater collector was much more complicated than the one Clem had seen at Shaffer's, and looking at the thick web of piping connecting the barrels to each other and the barn's newly installed gutters, Clem realized she wasn't entirely sure how to get water out of it. "I mean, does Sin or Devlin need to add something else or—"

"It hasn't rained since they finished it a few days ago," reminded Sarah, sounding irritated as she planted a beanpole. "And if it doesn't rain soon we'll have to start carrying water all the way from the lake."

Looking past Sarah, Clem saw the small circular pond in the corner of the field, or more precisely, what's left of it. A couple of weeks of taking water out of it a few cans at a time had caused it to shrink to about half its original size. Clem wasn't sure how much longer before it would be gone entirely.

"And we're using up a lot of bottled water," added Sarah without looking up. "Before long, we'll need to start fetching and boiling water for us too."

Now Clem was worried the pond would be gone even sooner, and she started thinking back to how they had to boil water constantly when living in the cabin and how time-consuming it was just to keep three people hydrated.

"Well…" said Jet, trying to sound optimistic. "Um, Devlin brought back a ping pong table. Maybe we could play it when we're done here?"

"I've got to finish this, then give all the beans more water, and take down the laundry and—"

"I'll take care of this," volunteered Jet. "I'll finish planting the bean poles and then water them. All I got to do is wrap the sprouts around the poles, right?"

Sarah stopped digging for a second, then nodded.

"And I can get the laundry," added Clem. "Then I'll make lunch. You haven't eaten yet right?"

Sarah weakly shook her head.

"Okay, so why don't you rest until lunch?" suggested Clem. "You could look at the photos I took in town and even take a shower in the Brave."

"Devlin and I found some fresh shampoo in Pawhuska," added Jet. "We made sure to leave a bottle in your RV's bathroom."

Sarah looked down at the dirt, then stood up. "Thanks…" she said in a weak voice, her eyes still aimed at the dirt.

"It's no problem," assured Clem as she stood up. "Come on, the shower in the Brave doesn't work real good, but the water's still hot." Clem gently wrapped an arm around Sarah's waist. She gave Sarah a little nudge, and the pair started moving forward while Jet worked to finish the beanpoles.

Looking over, Clem was unsettled by Sarah's appearance. She was practically covered in a thin layer of dirt from head to toe, her jeans were threadbare at the knees, her shoes and gloves caked in mud, her hair a frayed mess, and looking at her face, Clem thought she saw bags around her eyes. She was also missing her glasses, but that's because she had started leaving them in the house when working so as not to risk breaking them.

"If you need anything else from us," said Clem. "You can just ask us."

Sarah didn't respond right away, which Clem found concerning. "It's just a lot harder than I thought," she eventually said in a whisper. "And I knew it would be really hard."

"It's okay, we're getting better at it," said Clem.

"If we just didn't have to water them so much," said Sarah with a deep sigh. "Or if it would just rain already so we could take a break, and then we'd have water from the barrels for a couple of days to make it easier."

"At least it's getting warmer," said Clem as she looked up at the sky.

"Yeah, that's something else I'm worried about. Right now it's okay, but it's not even April yet and it's already getting kind of hot. By the time we get to May, we're going to be burning up in that field, and every day."

Clem tensed up upon hearing that. Picking oranges in November was already hot work; she wasn't looking forward to doing that in the middle of summer. Climbing over the wooden fence the pair immediately ran into the chainlink fence. They headed through the nearest gate, arriving outside the guest house just in time to watch Patty come marching out. She moved quickly, almost stomping the grass as she hurried towards the main house only to stop halfway and pull a cigarette from her jacket pocket.

"Are you okay?"

"Jesus," said Patty as she spun around, almost dropping her cigarette. "You two scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," said Sarah.

"It's just, you looked upset," said Clem.

"I'm fine," she insisted in a tone of voice that made it clear she wasn't.

Clem looked at Patty, then over to the door of the guest house. "Did Devlin do something to you?"

"Jesus, Clem, it's nothing like that," insisted an agitated Patty as she lit her cigarette.

"If he did something like Anthony did then—"

"He didn't do anything!" announced Patty before taking a long drag off her cigarette. "That's… that's kind of the problem actually."

"What does that mean?" asked Sarah.

"It means… I like him, and want to be more than just a friend," blurted out Patty as she looked away from the pair.

"You mean like a girlfriend?"

Patty exhaled a big puff of smoke as she sighed. "Yeah, and he just told me he doesn't like me like that… he's gay."

"Gay?"

"It means he doesn't want a girlfriend," explained a disappointed Patty. "He'd only want a boyfriend."

"Oh, so that means—"

"It was never going to happen," lamented Patty. "And a minute ago when I was in his house I… I was coming on pretty strong and not getting the hints, so he finally just had to tell me and… God this is humiliating." Clem watched as Patty's face turned bright red as she turned away. "God, I feel so stupid now for nipping into the gas station for condoms earlier."

"I thought you just had to use the bathroom there?" asked Clem.

"What are condoms?" asked Sarah.

"And why did you get them?" said Clem.

Patty let out an agonized groan. "Why'd I say that out loud?"

"Just tell us," insisted Clem. "We always end up hearing about this stuff eventually."

Patty took another drag off her cigarette. "They're these plastic sock things a guy puts his dick in before sex."

"Ew!" said Clem as she found her mind imagining what that would look like despite her every effort to get it to stop. "Why would they do that?"

"Does it stop you from getting pregnant?" asked Sarah.

"Um… yeah," confirmed a surprised Patty. "Omid's great an all, but we really don't need another baby right now."

"How'd you know that?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Well when I was reading about sex in the encyclopedia, it said that a guy's thing will—"

"You know what, I don't want to know," insisted Clem, thinking she had already heard enough for one day.

Patty dropped her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. "I guess there goes my only chance of getting laid."

"Lay—"

"Sex, I meant having sex," clarified Patty. "Which is not happening now."

"I don't even know why you want to," said Clem. "Everything I hear about sex just makes it sound grosser and grosser."

"You'll understand when you're older," said Patty with a shrug.

"Yeah, just like how I'll understand tampons." Clem looked over at Sarah, but the tired look in her eyes made it clear she didn't feel like explaining.

"Typical, there's one eligible bachelor here and he's gay," griped Patty.

"What about Anthony?"

"Ugh…" Patty rolled her eyes.

"He's a jerk," said Clem.

"He's been a lot nicer lately," argued Sarah.

"I'll admit, he's been some what better behaved ever since we laid down the law with him. But I don't like him like that and I doubt that'll ever change… kind of like how Devlin won't ever like me like that," said Patty with a hint of sadness.

"I'm sorry Devlin was the only person here you were in love with," spoke a sympathetic Clem.

"I… I wasn't in love with him," spoke Patty, sounding surprised. "I mean don't get me wrong, he's really handsome, and brave, and he's got those big strong arms I just want to…" Patty trailed off suddenly as her face got a little redder. "But I wasn't in love with Devlin, he was just a good looking guy I wanted to hook up with. It's probably good I found out now he's not interested before I actually did fall in love with him or something."

"Huh? It's good you weren't in love?" asked Sarah. "I don't understand."

"Me neither," said Clem. "You tried to explain being in love once and—"

"And I didn't do a very good job," recalled Patty. "Look, you ask a dozen people what it's like to be in love and you'll probably get a dozen different answers. Some people will even tell you it's just a bunch of crap and it doesn't exist. All I'll say this time is if you fall in love with someone, it changes things between you and them."

"Like what?" asked Clem. "What changes?"

"Like… um…" mumbled Patty as she was forced to say more. "You can love lots of people, but when you're in love with someone, suddenly almost everything they say and do is a big deal, you just hang onto their every word and don't even want to take your eyes off them if you can help it, it's like… they become the center of your whole world.

"And that's where things can go wrong, because if the person who's at the center of your entire world doesn't love you back, then it hurts. And if you find out someone is in love with you, but you don't love them like that, it gets hard to be around them because you know they want something you can't give them.

"I mean, I wasn't even in love with Devlin and now it's going to be awkward between us because of what I said, at least for a little while. You tell someone you're in love with them, and you want to be with only them for the rest of your life, and they tell you they don't feel the same way about you... it can get ugly, real ugly."

"You make it sound like falling in love sound is a bad thing," noted Sarah, her voice even more downcast then from a minute ago.

"Well, like I told Clem, I had kind of a bad experience once, so maybe I'm biased."

"How do people even fall in love?" asked Clem. "Can't they, like, choose not to be in love with someone?"

"I honestly have no idea," confessed Patty. "I don't think it's something you can just turn off though. I mean, I can't stop finding Devlin sexy, but I can keep my hands to myself. In my own admittedly bitter experience, self-control goes out the window once you're in love. As for how it happens, I heard it just hits you one day, like a bolt of lightning, but I don't know if I believe…" Looking up, Patty's eyes suddenly fell on Sarah. "Are… are you okay Sarah? I'm not bothering you by talking about all this stuff am I?"

"No… I'm just tired," mumbled Sarah as she started shuffling towards the driveway. Patty watched as Sarah slowly stepped into the Brave, then looked back at Clem.

"I think Sarah is mad at herself because she thinks she messed up, and she's definitely tired spending all morning trying to fix it," informed Clem. "I said I'd make her something to eat while she rested."

"I'll help; it'll give me an excuse to hide from Devlin for a little while." Patty went with Clem to the food trailer, picking out their favorites from whichever cans they could reach without climbing over the top of their bounty of stored food. Carrying everything back to the picnic table in the center of the yard, Clem passed by the back door to the main house just in time to watch it swing open.

"Kem-men!" yelled Omid as he came hurrying out as fast as his short legs could move him.

"OJ—I mean Omid!" Clem dropped her bag on the grass, knelt down and wrapped both arms around her favorite little boy.

"Chai-yo!"

"Huh?"

"It's Thai for cheers," explained Sin, hiding a grin as he closed the door. "I know I probably shouldn't teach him another language while he's still learning English, but I noticed a noise he was making wasn't far off from—"

"Chai-yo!" repeated Omid, sounding excited.

"I just had to keep repeating it until he said it," concluded Sin.

"Chai-yo!" said Clem back as she smiled at Omid.

Mixing up a beef stew and spooning out some corn into a bowl wasn't exciting, but Clem didn't mind. Devlin emerged from the guest house before long to join in the meal, much to Patty's embarrassment, and Jet returned from the field next, and then finally Sarah arrived. Sitting down to eat, Clem noticed she had her glasses on now and was in clean clothes, but still had a glum expression on her face as she began to eat.

"Sah-rah chai-yo!" said Omid as he waved at her from his high chair.

"Did... did he just say something in Thai?" asked a very confused Jet.

"Just that one word," assured Sin, amused by his grandson's shock.

"Sin said it means cheers." Looking at Sarah, Clem noticed her eyes looked a little red. "Have… have you been crying?" she whispered.

"Huh? No," assured Sarah before chewing another bite of stew. "The water in the Brave ran out right as was shampooing my hair."

"Oh, so—"

"I couldn't get it all off with just a towel, and I couldn't find a bottled water in the closet without opening my eyes, so…" Sarah trailed off as she ate another bite.

"I'm sorry," said Clem, feeling guilty for ever suggesting a shower.

"I should have known better, I knew the tank was almost empty," lamented Sarah, the tiniest hint of anger in her voice. "I had to waste half a bottle of water to clean out my eyes and they still hurt."

"I'm… I'm really sorry," repeated Clem.

The rest of the meal passed with little conversation and before long the group started cleaning up the table. Clem went to grab Omid when she noticed he had moved from a moment ago when he took him out of his high chair. Looking around, she saw the tiny boy standing in front of the fence. At first she thought he wanted to go out, but then she noticed he was looking at something off in the distance.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she knelt down beside him.

"Pah-sah."

"You see a possum?" said Clem as she looked out at the woods. "Where do you…" Clem suddenly saw it moving out from the edge of the forest. It was furry and walked on four legs, but it was much too tall to be a possum.

"Guys, come look," urged Clem in a careful whisper. Everyone gathered around while Clem watched as the deer grew nearer. "Sarah, is that what you saw earlier?"

"I think so," said Sarah. "It's a lot smaller than that one we saw back in Sumac, and it doesn't have horns."

"It's a doe; a female," informed Devlin. "And probably a young one."

"I'm surprised we haven't seen more animals out here," said Jet. "There's no walkers to chase them off around here."

"Winter only recently ended," reminded Sin. "They'll probably become more active as it gets warmer."

"Pah-sah, paw-sah!" chanted Omid as he tugged on the chainlink.

"Deer," said Clem as she knelt down to look Omid more closely in the eyes. "Can you say deer? Deer? Duh-ear?"

"Duh… deer." Clem's heart skipped a beat as she heard Omid say that.

"That's right, deer," said Clem, barely able to contain her pride.

"Look at the deer," encouraged Sarah, joy suddenly returning to her voice. Clem gently tilted Omid's head back towards the deer and he stared right at her.

"Chia-yo deer!" The deer noticed Omid's call, stopping in her tracks.

"Oh no, he's going to scare it off," realized Sarah.

"It probably wouldn't have come over here anyway," reasoned Sin. "It's not like it has any reason to think we'd be friendly to it."

"Oh!" Jet ran back to the picnic table and grabbed the big bowl sitting in the center. He ran up to the fence and heaved it forward without letting go, causing bits of corn to go flying over the top and into the grass on the other side.

"Why'd you do that?" asked an irritated Sin. "You just wasted—"

"It was almost empty and we got tons more," declared Patty in a harsh tone without looking away from the deer. "Now be quiet so Omid can enjoy this."

Everyone remained still and, after a tense pause, the deer started moving forward again a few careful steps at a time.

"Deer! Deer!" Omid's chanting seemed to stall the deer, but not scare her. Moving ahead several steps, she tilted her head down and started licking up loose corn kernels from the ground, prompting a surprised gasp from Omid.

"Deer…" he said again, sounding awestruck as the deer followed a sloppy trail of kernels closer towards the fence.

"It's coming this way," whispered Sarah as she and Clem watched the hungry animal inch ever closer. Clem realized if the deer held up her head, she would about as tall as Clementine. Watching the deer comb what little grass there was for more corn suddenly made Clem wish she had more on hand to give her.

"Deer…" Omid moved his tiny hands through the links in the fence, trying to touch her.

"Come on," urged Sarah in a quiet but inviting voice as she saw the deer nearing the fence. "Just a few more feet and—"

The left side of the deer's head exploded into a gruesome display of blood, bits of fur, and pieces of skull as a deafening bang rang out across the area. Clem grabbed hold of a screaming Omid, clasping one hand over his eyes as the deer collapsed onto the dirt.

"Finally," said Anthony as rushed up to examine the deer's body. "Clean in the head; perfect." Turning his head, Anthony saw everyone else staring at him through the fence. "Shit, did I miss lunch?"

"Jesus Anthony, you could have hit us!" yelled Patty.

"I saw you guys," assured Anthony as he knelt down to examine his kill. "I lined myself up with the fence and aimed a little to the right so the bullet wouldn't even be moving in the house's direction; no chance I could have hit any of you as long as you were on that side of the chainlink."

"You could have warned us though," scolded Clem as she cradled a whimpering Omid. "You scared him half to death."

"A warning would have scared off our next meal here off," said Anthony as he threw the rifle over his shoulder.

"Do you even know how to butcher a deer?" asked a dubious Sin.

"Hell yeah, my first summer job was working as a butcher's assistant during hunting season," said Anthony as he stood up. "Guy told me I was a natural."

"You serious?" asked an eager Devlin. "So, we're gonna have meat for the next few meals?"

"Probably safer we just eat as much as we can tonight," said Anthony. "It's warm out, we got no way to cool the meat down, and I never really paid that close attention to how the whole aging thing worked, just the cutting them up so you don't spill their stomach and shit part."

"Still, did you have to shoot it right then?" asked Jet. "Omid was looking right at her." Looking at Omid, Clem saw a lot of unhappiness still lingering in his big sad eyes, but the initial panic had passed and he was beginning to settle. "You could have waited until after we went in or—"

"Look, you can all remind me what an asshole I am later if you want, but if you don't want this to go to waste, I should get to work; we wait too long and bacteria's gonna spoil it," explained Anthony. "Now I need some big kitchen bags, and some rope, and the biggest and sharpest knives we got, oh and some gloves and a load of paper towels. We can probably hang it in the shed in the yard and let it cool off in the shade while the blood drains—buckets, almost forgot that."

"I'll… I'll get the rope and buckets," announced Patty, almost as if she only realized what she was doing mid-sentence.

"I'll grab the towels and some gloves," said Jet as he ran off.

"I've been using some large serrated blades to cut boards; they were sharpened just two days ago," said Sin as he headed into the house.

"And I'll help you carry the deer." Devlin hurried over to the gate while Clem watched Omid move as close to the deer as the fence would allow him. The deer was lying lifelessly on her side, her eye now a gaping hole, blood pooling around her head. Staring at her, Clem suddenly felt panic shoot up her spine as it felt like a hand had just tried to strangle her lungs. Gripping her chest and taking a couple of quick breaths, Clem hastily looked away from the deer.

"Deer!" cried Omid, as if he expected her to respond. "Deer? Geh-buh deer! Geh-buh! Deer!" Omid banged his hands on the chainlink and looked on the verge of crying as Devlin approached the corpse. He gave Clem a look at sympathy, then made a slight motion with his head.

"Come on, it's okay," lied Clem as she picked up Omid and turned away from the fence. "She'll be okay later, right Sarah?" Sarah was gone, and the door to the house had been left open.

Clem stepped inside, passing Sin as he hurried back outside. Searching the living room, she found Sarah sitting on the big couch they had put in the middle of the room in front of the fireplace.

"Are… are you okay?" No answer, which felt like an answer in itself. "I know, that was… scary, and sad. But, we'll get to eat meat tonight, and she… she didn't suffer, and you said you were worried about her eating all our—"

"You think I don't know all that!" barked Sarah as she spun around, startling Clem and scaring Omid, who started crying again. "No I… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Omid." Clem watched as Sarah's already miserable face was further twisted by a sudden swell of guilt as she stood up and hurried over to Omid. "I didn't mean to raise my voice, I'm sorry." Clem carefully passed Omid to Sarah, who tried to beat back her tears as she cradled Omid.

"It's okay," whispered Clem. "It's—"

"It's just…" Sarah bit her lip to stop her voice from getting any louder. "It wasn't just the deer," she said, making every effort to be quiet. "It's just… everything, and when I was finally not thinking about it for a minute, Anthony shot that deer and—"

"It's okay," assured Clem as she moved in close, putting one arm around Sarah while using her other hand to gently stroke the back of Omid's head. The three of them remained in each other's embrace for quite a while, Clem content to stay with Sarah and Omid for as long as it took for them to calm down.

"I… I had a nightmare last night," Sarah whispered suddenly.

"About… about what?" asked Clem, afraid to what the answer would be.

"I went outside, and all our sprouts were dead because they dried up in the sun."

"And?"

"That's it, that was the whole dream."

It took Clem a moment to process what Sarah said. It didn't sound that scary initially, but listening closely, Clem could hear Sarah was breathing a little harder now.

"You know if you need help with growing food or anything else, I—"

"You can't," sighed Sarah.

"I can't?" repeated Clem.

"I mean, there's stuff you can't help me with. No one here really knows much about farming, not even Sin. I've been reading everything I can about growing crops for over a month now, so if there's something I can't figure out or don't understand… there's no one here I could ask who would know more about it than I already do. If… if I make a mistake, then I'm the only one who can fix it. And… and if I make too many mistakes then—"

"It's fine Sarah," insisted Clem suddenly.

"You don't—"

"I know we started a farm this year in case we needed time to get it right next year," reminded Clem. "And I also know I won't be mad at you if something goes wrong. Okay? Whatever happens, we would know you did your best and none of us would blame you. Okay?"

"I… I know you guys wouldn't." The way Sarah said that implied there was someone else that would blame her. "I'm… I'm going to take him upstairs," said Sarah as she adjusted her grip on a now softly whimpering Omid. "He could probably use a nap."

"So you could," suggested Clem.

"It's the middle of the day, I can't—"

"Is there anything else wrong with the field?" asked Clem. "Do you need to do anything that you haven't already told us to do before?"

"Not right now, but—"

"Then you can take a nap right now," concluded Clem. "It's okay, we can handle everything else. Just rest for a while."

"I… thanks Clementine." Sarah moved in close, gently kissing Clem's cheek, which Clem was happy to return in kind.

"Love you," whispered Sarah.

"You too," whispered Clem.

"Muh-boo," mumbled Omid.

The rest of the day was uneventful, with everyone working wherever they were needed. Anthony tended to the deer, Patty worked on unhooking one of the semis from its trailer, Sin went to survey the area between the lake and the farm, Devlin and Jet worked in the field, while Clem just wandered from one minor task to the other.

She brought in the laundry and then unpacked the things they brought back from Pawhuska. She put some new books on the shelf in the living room. They had to throw out most of their fiction books when they left Tulsa to make room for all the ones Sarah used in her research, but Jet had picked up some new ones today. Looking at the titles, Clem was looking forward to reading something new, as soon as she had time for a book that is.

She also unpacked some new silverware, dishes, cups, and other basic items their kitchen was needing. Heading into the modest dining room they really haven't used that much, she carefully laid out a linen on top of the table, then set a tall blue vase on top. She didn't have anything to put in it yet, but she figured one of the flowers Sarah planted would be perfect, as soon as they bloomed. With each little addition, the house looked a little less bare and felt more like a home.

By sundown, Anthony had readied three plates full of strips and chunks of dark red meat. Clem had never cooked any meat that wasn't fish and felt out of her element. Luckily, Anthony and Devlin both seemed more than eager to help man the two grills overloaded with meat. Discussing how long cooked meat remains safe to eat without refrigeration, the group agreed they weren't really sure and should just eat as much as they could tonight in case the leftovers were no good tomorrow morning.

When it came time to eat it felt like Thanksgiving. Because they had so much and couldn't really save it for later, everyone was free to eat to their heart's content, and so they did. The fresh meat was better tasting than any Clem could ever remember trying, even the freshest fish she had tried. She sampled all the differently seasoned strips, tried them with barbecue sauce and other condiments, and just couldn't stop herself from taking more.

Cutting off pieces and feeding them to Omid made Clem feel uneasy though. He clearly loved the meat, always asking for more every time he'd finish chewing a piece. But knowing how upset he got when the deer was shot, it seemed almost dishonest to feed it to him if he had no idea what he was eating. Spearing another small piece with her fork, Clem held it up and watched as Omid reached out for it. She thought about saying 'deer' while pointing at the meat, to tell Omid the truth and see if he understood; then Clem gave him the piece because she was finding this upsetting herself the more she thought about it and didn't want to upset Omid any more today.

The only one not eating was Sarah, because she wasn't at the table. Clem figured she must have come down at some point since Omid was here, but Patty said she brought Omid down and that Sarah was still in her bedroom. As the others finished their meals, so full they couldn't eat anymore, Clem took the remaining pieces and carefully piled them onto a clean plate. She grabbed a glass of tea and a fresh set of utensils, then took them upstairs.

Coming into the bedroom while announcing room service had arrived was met with little fanfare. Sarah's face was buried in a book and several more were lying around her on the bed. Clem offered the meal to Sarah, who took one look at the meat, then turned away, saying she was grateful but that the others could have it. Noticing a grimace on Sarah's face as she turned back to her book, Clem pondered what was wrong. Was she so upset by the deer's death she didn't want to eat its meat now? Did she feel her mistakes made her unworthy of this meal? Had Sarah discovered some new problem with the farm that she didn't know how to solve yet?

Seeing her weary and slightly blood-shot eyes darting back and forth at a frantic pace as she read as fast as she could, Clementine felt her concern only growing more desperate. She thought about just asking Sarah what's wrong, but decided against it, afraid whatever was bothering Sarah was something Clem was incapable of helping her with and asking would just remind Sarah of that fact and make her more upset. So instead, Clem left Sarah to be in peace, and hoped none of them had nightmares tonight.

Previous Chapter - First Chapter - Next Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 72 - The Simple Life

Clementine smiled as Omid spun plastic shapes and pushed along colored beads built into one of the walls of his new playhouse. Between it, the abundance of toys the others brought back surveying the surrounding area yesterday, and the ones they had brought in from the Brave, the young tyke had a veritable fun house to enjoy in his new room. He had already spent all morning hurrying from one plaything to the other, barely willing to stop even for breakfast, and Clem hadn't missed a second of it.

"Clem, can you help me with this?"

Clem spun around and saw Sarah holding a headboard against a mostly assembled crib. She hurried over to her friend and grabbed hold of the piece.

"Just keep it there for a moment," instructed Sarah as she removed a screwdriver from her pocket. "This will only take a minute."

"This is a lot bigger than his old crib," noted Clem as Sarah screwed the headboard in place.

"I don't think his old crib was even a crib."

"It wasn't? What was it then?"

"I think it was a bassinet."

"A what?"

"A cradle."

"…a what?"

"You know, like a baby crib."

"I thought cribs were for babies?"

"Well some of them are for newborns," said Sarah as she tugged on the headboard. "I remember reading about that in one of our parenting books."

"And this one isn't?" asked Clem as she watched Sarah lean the new crib forward.

"No, the box on this one said it's for babies over a year old." Sarah set the finished crib upright; Omid's entire old crib could have fit inside of it.

"Hopefully he'll actually sleep in this one," said Clem.

"If he doesn't, don't forget it's your turn to stay with him tonight," said Sarah before taking a breath. "I'm more worried about him getting out of it though." Sarah moved over to where Omid was stacking wooden blocks and scooped up the toddler by his armpits.

"Ah-wah-duh-dee!" he protested as he was carried away.

"This will only take a minute." Sarah placed Omid in the crib and took a step back. Watching carefully, Clem noticed he seemed confused at first, then stepped forward to examine the bars. Omid stretched his short arms up as far as he could, but could only briefly touch the top of the crib with his fingertips. Listening to Omid grunt, Clem found herself disturbed by how distressing he found his new crib the longer he was trapped in it.

"ow-sah!" he pleaded in desperation as he struggled in vain to even take hold of the top of the crib. "Sah-rah ow-sah!"

"It's okay," said Clem as she found her arms shooting forward without thinking. "I've got you." Clem hurriedly picked up Omid and set him on the floor, where he rushed back to his tower of blocks.

"Well I don't think he'll get out of that," said Sarah.

"Yeah, but is that really a good thing?" asked Clem.

"What? Yes."

"It's just… it's like we're putting him in a cage."

"It's… it's not all the time," reasoned Sarah. "And it's just so he doesn't wander off and hurt himself. He's got a lot more room here than in the Brave."

"I know all that," said Clem as she watched Omid carefully tried to add another block to his tower before knocking it over. "It's just, I remember when I lived in that cabin, and how much I hated it; how long will he spend in here before he wants to leave?"

"Right now, I'm not sure we're even going to stay here that long," said Sarah. "We've got to plow the field, plant seeds, and still—"

"Goddammit!" Swore Anthony from the hall before there was a loud clattering as something fell down the stairs.

"Get moved in," finished Sarah.

"I'll go help him." Clem headed for the door, taking a moment to step over the baby gate Sarah had set up.

"Son of a bitch," mumbled Anthony as he picked up a box off the steps while precariously holding two others and a large bag in his other arm.

"Can I help?" asked Clem.

"Grab something, anything." Clem took one of the boxes from under his arm and helped Anthony carry everything upstairs. Peeking in the box, she saw it had small electric lanterns it.

"Thanks," said Clem as she carried the box towards the master bedroom. "We've been staying in the Brave so long we forgot what it's like not to have working lights. Last night, Sarah spent like five minutes just trying to find a flashlight when Omid started crying."

"Well there's a shitload of flashlights, candles, and lighters here, along with some of the other stuff you guys wanted," said Anthony as he followed Clem. "Surprised you're all keen on staying here in the big house together."

"It's nice in this house," said Clem as she headed into the bedroom. "Except for how dark it gets at night, but now that we got this stuff it should be okay." Anthony set the boxes down on the floor while Clem set her box on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

"Wouldn't have minded a home of my own," said Anthony. "But that Devlin guy already claimed the guest house."

"There's a room on the first floor that's empty," said Clem as she removed a lantern from her box. "If we got another bed, you could stay there."

"Ehh, I'm not big on roommates, and besides, I think Patty mentioned something about not liking the idea of me living with all the 'kids'," griped Anthony. "Also, she and Sin both want at least one person sleeping in the vehicles at night in case we have to make a quick get away, and I'm the only one sleeping in my camper."

"I know, Sarah doesn't even want us taking too much stuff out of the Brave right now," said Clem as she placed an electric lantern on the night stand next to the baby monitor. "I was going to bring in our photo album, and she told me to leave it. When I asked her why, she said if something went wrong and we had to leave in a hurry, we might not have time to grab before we get to the Brave."

"And here I was thinking she just didn't want us unpacking until after we knew this farm isn't a bust," said Anthony as he headed for the door. "I've got to get back outside before Devlin comes in and hounds me about helping him dig the holes for the damn fence posts."

Clem took her time distributing candles, flashlights, and lighters across the various rooms, finding something oddly nostalgic about living in a house again. Even though it was only their second day, she was always growing fond of the idea of settling in and living together under a single roof not connected to a set of tires. This place felt like a bigger and better version of their home in Spokeston, and with a larger family of friends to share it with.

Even the empty walls and shelves had felt like an invitation to Clem for her and the others to stake their claim on this place. Heading back upstairs, she watched as Omid crawled across the blanket they had spread out and pictured replacing it with actual carpet, then she thought about what kind of carpet he'd like most. Then she looked at the walls and thought about what kind of fun things they could paint on them for Omid, or themselves.

Before she could dream about interior decorating anymore, Sarah picked up Omid and carried him downstairs. She was going to watch him in the yard while preparing their seeds for planting, one of many tasks that needed doing today. Not one to stand by while others worked, Clem headed out to get started herself. It was still early in the morning, the sun was still hidden behind the trees surrounding the farm, the air was cool and crisp, and Clem was ready for the first day of the rest of her new life.

Moving past the short wooden fence, she spotted a couple of long metal poles come flying out of the back one of the semi-trailers parked just across from the house. Approaching it, she could see Devlin hopping out to collect the pair of poles. He carried them over to a break in the wooden fence where Anthony was digging a hole with a tool that looked like a couple of shovels attached with a hinge.

Leaving the two men to work on their new fence for the house, Clem ducked between the boards of the fence surrounding the unplowed field just past the driveway. Looking down at the ground as she walked, it was hard for Clem to envision turning this patch of dirt into enough food for eight people, but she was more than willing to try. As she neared the barn, Clem could hear loud voices echoing from inside.

"I'm telling you, the fuel lines are still clogged," said Sin as he shook the grime off his gloves.

"And I'm telling you we've blown them out twice now, and cleaned out the carburetor," said Patty while standing over a big green tractor with an open hood.

Looking around the barn, Clem thought it was strangely empty, even compared to the house. The barns she had searched before usually had a tool or two left behind on the wall or at least a few pieces of scrap wood in the dirt; this one was virtually spotless except for the tractor and the contraption parked behind it. Taking a closer look, Clem saw the device hitched to the tractor looked two large rows of sharp gears ready to mash up whatever they were dragged over.

"It's got to be the solenoid," concluded Patty as she knelt down to get a better look at the tractor's engine.

"If it was the solenoid it wouldn't click when you turned the key," argued Sin.

"A defective solenoid can still click while not doing shit, trust me."

"Like how I trusted you when you said this wouldn't be hard to start."

"Hey, who's the mechanic here?"

"Who's the one with a master's degree in engineering?"

"Yeah, but how many tractors have you fixed?"

"How many have you?"

"That's… that's not the point. I—"

"What's that Clem?" Clem was startled by Jet's loud announcement as he suddenly appeared next to her from seemingly nowhere. "Sure, I'll give you a hand."

"I didn't say—"

"I'll be with Clem, just call me on the radio if you two need any help." Before Clem could say another word, Jet grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the barn. "They have been arguing like that for like twenty minutes now," griped Jet as he led Clem away from the barn. "It's the starter, no it's the spark plugs, no it's the diesel. Ugh, I don't even know why they asked me to help when they just spend all their time arguing."

"Does this mean the tractor doesn't work?"

Jet stopped suddenly. "I… I don't know," he said as if he had just thought about that.

"Sarah told me we need that to plow the field."

"They haven't even looked at the plow yet," reported Jet. "They've been too busy trying to just get the tractor to work."

"If they don't fix it, then what?"

"I… I don't know, but I know I can't fix a tractor, so there's not much I can do."

"Me neither," realized Clem as she looked out over the empty field, a sense of helplessness gripping her chest as she did.

"Well, I guess you and I could plant those little saplings I've been keeping in the Sunseeker," suggested Jet. "I wanted to do that yesterday, but we were so busy finding stuff for the house and unpacking things from the trailers that I didn't get a chance. We could do that, at least until they actually need us for something."

"That sounds better than doing nothing." Clem followed Jet back towards the driveway where the pair squeezed past the Brave and Anthony's truck to get to the Sunseeker. Following Jet inside, Clem found herself face to face with three not all that small plants in pots standing in her way.

"These are saplings?" Walking up to nearest one, Clem was surprised to see it was nearly a head taller than her.

"Well yeah, if they were fully grown trees we could climb them," said Jet as he knelt down to grab the pot. "Devlin said the woman who used to run Tulsa's community garden had been raising dozens of saplings for over a year before they were attacked. These three were the only ones who survived after everything was left out during the winter. There was a fourth one I thought I could help too… but it was already dead."

Clem felt a tinge of sadness upon hearing that, which was then replaced with an unbearable strain in her arms as she worked with Jet to carry the first sapling out of the RV. It was heavy and awkward, yet delicate enough that dropping it would likely kill it. Luckily, they managed to carry it out of the RV without incident, and after retrieving the creeper board from the Brave, the pair were able to move it along with considerably less effort.

Jet had already picked out a spot between the house and the front gate nestled between the trees surrounding the property. The gravel road leading between them bordered a smaller field across from the fenced one. After wheeling the tree to center of the area, the pair sprinted back and grabbed a couple of shovels from the trailer. Breaking through the hard dirt was a challenge for Clem, and it didn't look much easier for Jet. It wasn't long before her arms started hurting as she did her best to widen the hole, but she gritted her teeth and kept shoveling until finally, she heard Jet said that was enough.

Jet was meticulous in their removing the sapling from its pot, unfurling the ball of roots that had formed, then lowering it into the hole with the uttermost of care. Clem had to assist with every step, holding the tree firmly in place while Jet pulled the pot off, then keeping it from falling over as he tugged at the roots. After planting the tree, Jet said they needed to pack the dirt tightly to get rid of the empty space between the roots, and so they grabbed their shovels again.

"So, did Sarah tell you all this stuff?" asked Clem as she dropped some dirt into the hole.

"She actually made a whole binder for fruit trees," said Jet as he patted the ground with his shovel. "I was reading it yesterday evening. The next thing we'll need is water and some stakes."

"Stakes?"

"To tie the trunk too, so if the wind picks up it won't snap," explained Jet. "There should be some on the trailer with our building supplies. I didn't see them when we got the shovels, but—"

"I'll get them," said Clem. "And the water."

Clem hurried back to the trailer, where she found Anthony standing.

"I'm just saying, we put them fifteen apart, that's like fifty percent less holes we gotta dig," he said.

"And I said ten feet apart is as far as the posts can be and the fence be worth a damn," said Devlin as he passed a bag of cement down to Anthony. "Trust me, I spent a lot of time setting up the fence around Tulsa's M.O.B."

"Yeah, and we're not in Tulsa anymore," groaned Anthony as she set the bag of cement on the ground. "We really need a professional fence out here in the sticks?"

"It doesn't matter where we are," said Clem suddenly. "A herd of walkers could come from anywhere, or even another group of people."

"And a fence will stop them?" asked Anthony.

"Long enough for us to think of something hopefully," answered Clem.

"All the more reason to do it right," said Devlin before turning to Clem. "What's up?"

"I need some stakes to make sure the apple trees don't break in the wind," said Clem. "And a watering can."

"Right, just give me a minute to find them." Clem watched as Devlin dug through the trailer, creating a large racket as he did. He pushed rolls of chain link aside, tossed out the occasional fence post, and even passed a couple of barrels down to Anthony. Wandering deeper into the trailer, Clem heard more things banging about before Devlin returned carrying a watering can in one hand and a bundle of thin metal stakes in the other. He handed them both down to Clem, then removed a coil of rope from his shoulder and a hammer from his pocket that he also passed down.

"Figure you'd need these as well for the stakes," said Devlin as he hopped out of the trailer. "Come on Anthony, we got cement to mix."

"Don't remind me," grumbled Anthony as he grabbed the bag and started following Devlin. Clem stuffed the hammer and rope into the watering can and quickly delivered them to Jet along with the stakes. Then she took the now empty watering can and hurried back to the field. Crossing in front of the barn, she could hear a distant mechanical churning and some swearing echoing from inside.

After filling the watering can at the large pond on the edge of the field, Clem started rushing back to Jet as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast while carrying water. She had barely made it a few steps before the strain in her already sore arms nearly ground her to a halt. Carrying a single can of so far made Clem wish they still had running water even more than she already did, or at least whatever irrigation system Sin was planning to build. Finally delivering the water to Jet, Clem elected to sit and rest in the grass for a minute while he finished up with the stakes.

"What was it like?" asked Clem as Jet started wrapping a rope around the stakes and the tree trunk.

"What like?" asked Jet as he pulled the slack out of the rope.

"Tulsa's community garden. I never got a chance to see it before we left."

"Oh, it was mostly just an empty park with some tomato cages and other things left over, but nothing edible," said Jet with a shrug. "There were a bunch of big pots filled with dirt under this gazebo. This tree and the other saplings were near the edge, so maybe they got enough rain and sun to stay alive, but besides them, everything else was dead. If Devlin hadn't told me it was a garden before, I never would have believed it."

Watching Jet struggle to tie off the rope, Clem stood up and took the loose ends from the boy. Tying a firm knot and then taking a step back, Clem stopped to admire their handy work. The fledgling little tree didn't look like much, but seeing it standing tall in the soil did give Clem a sense of accomplishment.

"All right, let's get the next one," said Jet.

"Next one?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, we got three of them, remember?"

"Oh yeah…"

The pair dragged the creeper board back to the Sunseeker so they could bring the second tree over and start the entire chore over again. They didn't need to retrieve any additional tools but it took longer anyway as they struggled to dig another hole. Sometime around planting the second tree, Clem could hear a loud engine coming from the barn. Returning to retrieve the last tree, the pair caught eye of Patty slowly riding across the field on the tractor. They both stopped for a moment, watching the plow churn up the earth and leaving neat rows of dirt in its wake; it made it look so easy.

Working together, it probably took the pair over a half-hour before they finished the final hole, and the process of planting the last tree happened almost in slow-motion due to how tired and hungry they both were. Packed, watered and staked, Clem was ready for a break, only for Jet to reveal that he wanted to spread some mulch around the trees. Clem let out a long groan, then helped Jet to carry a bag back over to the newly planted trees.

Helping Jet to carefully arrange the mulch around the trees, Clem was finding herself feeling less accomplished and more eager to rest for a while. Still, she didn't complain, and before too long they had three little trees neatly tucked into their new home where they'd hopefully take root. Heading back to the farmhouse, the pair passed a series of tall fence posts now anchored in place around the driveway and the front of the building.

"Wow, this new fence is going to be tall," realized Clem as she looked up at one of the posts.

"I can't wait to see it finished," said Jet.

"I'm more concerned with our crops." Clem and Jet turned around to see Sin leaning against the wooden fence bordering the field, seemingly observing their handy work. Looking out on the field herself, Clem was surprised to see how much different it looked now, with neat mounds of dirt running across where they're used to just be flat earth. "At least we won't have to till it by hand, at least not this year anyway."

"So the tractor works?" asked Clem.

"It's fine," said Sin in a sharp tone before facing Jet. "How are the trees?"

"I think they're going to be okay, and I'll be sure to check them every day to make sure there's nothing wrong with them."

"In the meantime, I could use your help," said Sin. "There's not enough time today to rig up gutters on the barn, but the house and the guest house already have some. With some minor tweaking, we can at least set up a few barrels today for the next time it rains."

"Got it." Jet went with Sin back to the house while Anthony emerged from his camper. His hands were coated in a gray powder, and the front of his shirt and jeans were stained the same color. He briefly tried brushing himself off, only to give up after a few seconds of no success.

"What happened to you?" asked Clem as she approached the young man.

"Cement, a lot of it," he said as he gestured to the row of posts running along the driveway. "And we still got two sides left. What happened to you?" Anthony gestured to the dirt covering Clem's hands and clothes.

"Trees, three of them," she answered. "Luckily, we don't have any more."

"Well, I hope you're not too tired because I need your help bringing in the catch of the day."

"Why me?" asked Clem.

"Devlin's tied up helping Sarah with her seeds or whatever, and Patty volunteered to the get the rest of the food ready for lunch, so that leaves you. It's just as well, you're the best one at skinning fish, after me of course."

Clem collected her filleting tools and a cooler from the Brave while Anthony grabbed a couple of rods and his tackle box. Walking along the gravel trail leading south, Clem briefly thought back to the day she went fishing with Omid. The dead trees' bare branches obscured her view of the sky as she marched forward to collect fish, and again it was unusually quiet. Unlike that day, the pair reached the edge of the forest almost immediately, and instead of a pitiful stream waiting for them there was a lake.

Even this small inlet bordering the edge of the farm was pretty big, and it was only a fraction of the entire lake. The water was dark and still, a slight breeze was causing ripples across the surface, and the trees created a natural shroud that blocked out the rest of the world. If it were a little warmer, Clem might be tempted to go for a swim. Eyeing the shore, she saw thin ropes tied to trees that led into the lake and beneath the water.

"All right, let's see if these new fangled traps are worth a damn." Anthony set his equipment down and moved towards the nearest rope. He knelt down and started pulling on the line. "Well we definitely caught something; this thing is a lot heavier than when I threw it in the lake this morning." Clem watched as a long cylindrical cage made out of a mesh material came tumbling onto the shore. Looking inside, Clem could see a couple of decent size fish thrashing about along with several smaller ones.

"Wow," said Clem as opened the cooler.

"Yeah, really," said Anthony as he carried the cage over to Clem. "The other traps looks like this one and we won't even need to go fishing today."

Clementine held the cooler steady while Anthony grabbed one of the bigger fish. He tossed it into the cooler, then the other one. He then dragged the trap over to the water and dumped the numerous smaller fish back into the lake.

"You don't want to keep those too?" asked Clem.

"I got plenty of bait right now, and trying to gut and skin fish as small as them would be a major pain in the ass for very little meat," said Anthony as he set the now empty cage on the ground. "Better to let them go so they can either fatten up or get eaten by something bigger we can catch later."

Emptying the other three traps, the pair ended up with a dozen sizable fish in total. Looking at them thrash around inside the cooler, Clem noted they were a little smaller than the ones they'd get by fishing with a rod and reel, but they had so many it more than made up the difference.

"God damn, them fuckers in Gulf Port were holding out on me," said Anthony as he set the last cage on the ground.

"They were?" asked Clem.

"They looted all the fish traps in the area, told me and others we'd get more with just a rod and reel anyway… lying sacks of shit," griped Anthony. "Well hopefully they all get mercury poisoning and died. Speaking of which, how much did the old man say we could eat a week?"

"He said he looked it up and twelve ounces a week should be safe; less for me since I'm smaller," recited Clem.

"That's less than a pound, and per week?" Clem nodded as Anthony looked at the empty fish cage sitting on the dirt. "God damn it, if not for this mercury bullshit, we could just eat fish every day, and for every meal. Instead, we're stuck growing a bunch of picky ass shit that won't grow in the wild no more and I probably got brain damage or some other horrible shit from those weeks where I had nothing but fish to eat."

"Well, Sin said fish around here probably have the least amount of mercury," reassured Clem. "He said tuna had the most, and you could never catch those here. And we're just eating it only once a week to be safe, we probably could eat more and be okay. And Sin also said since you didn't eat fish for a couple of months, you should be better now."

"Unless the mercury screwed up something permanently, I remember him saying that too," said Anthony with a concerned look on the face. "And that if something is wrong with me, there's no hospital I can go to anymore…"

Clem tried to think of something "You know, if there was anything wrong with you, we'd help you."

"Well, at least we're not dying of hunger here," shrugged Anthony before picking up his fishing rods. Clementine followed Anthony back to the farm, struggling to carry a now very heavy cooler with both hands. Arriving back at the house, Patty directed the pair towards the backyard. Devlin had offloaded a couple of propane grills they had taken from Tulsa, which Sin had hooked up. Clem also found most of her prominent cooking tools from the Brave had been set out on a long picnic table in the middle of the yard.

Anthony started killing, gutting and cleaning the fish while Clem went with Patty to retrieve ingredients for lunch. Watching the woman slide open the door for the massive semi-trailer that contained their primary source of food, Clem was still in awe of the towering wall of canned, dried, and jarred goods tightly stacked nearly as high as the container's ceiling. After doing her best to pick through whatever should reach, Clem helped Patty carry back everything they'd need to make a big meal.

Returning to the yard, Clem helped Anthony by skinning the fish while he worked on gutting the remaining ones. Clem wasn't used to cooking on the grill, let alone trying to manage two at once, but with some care, she eventually managed to get every piece of fish onto them. Seasoning that much meat at once took some adjusting, and Clem found herself constantly fiddling with the knobs as she tried to figure out the particular combination that would make the grills match the heat of the burner she used in the Brave.

Eventually, the slices of fish turned a familiar golden brown and Clem started piling them onto plates Sarah had brought out. Placing them on the big picnic table, Clem noticed Patty had set out big bowls of peas, pears, and corn. There was also jugs of freshly mixed sweet tea just waiting for them. Clem hurried to the bathroom to wash her hands as fast as she could, then came running back.

Everyone was already seated at the tables by the time Clem got back, including Omid in his high chair that had been moved outside. Sitting down herself, Clem wasted no time in piling more than a little bit of everything onto her plate and then dug in. With such a variety of things to eat, including freshly caught fish, all while sitting out in the open in the warm midday sun with family and friends, Clem almost forgot she was living in a broken world. If only the canned goods were as fresh as the fish, then the illusion would have been complete.

Looking around, Clem saw that everyone was as hungry as she was. They were all not at all quietly scarfing down anything they could get their hands on with hardly a second to catch their breath between bites. Omid's normally insatiable hunger actually looked tame in comparison with the others. Eating through the bulk of her own meal, Clem eventually felt a full stomach signaling her to stop, much to her disappointment. Seeing a collective weary look on everyone's but Omid's faces as they finished their meals, Clem felt compelled to say something.

"So," she said as she tried to think of a way to start a conversation. "What was wrong with the tractor?" Sin groaned after hearing that and Patty took a deep breath.

"It was a kill switch," she said in a meek voice.

"Tractors have kill switches?" asked Jet.

"This one did," grumbled Sin. "It's a safety mechanism to prevent it from running when no one is on it."

"Turns out one of us just sitting on the tractor when we tried to start it would have saved us a few hours of guessing," spoke an embarrassed Patty. "You think we would have tried that by accident even."

"Nice to know we got you two to count on for all our mechanical needs," spoke Anthony, sounding more tired than sarcastic.

"Cut 'em some slack," urged Devlin as he leaned back in his seat. "None of us have ever been farmers before."

"I have," reminded Sin, sounding annoyed. The conversation seemingly died right after that as everyone but Omid suddenly became very quiet.

"Mah! Mah!" he urged as he tried reaching for a bowl.

"Here you go." Sarah scooped some pears into a spoon and then fed it to Omid, much to his approval. "Sin, you can watch him while we get started on the planting, right?"

"I've got a lot of prep work I need to do for our rainwater collectors," said Sin. "But if I do it indoors, I could keep an eye on him while I work."

"Good, that means Jet and Clem can help me and Patty with the planting," said Sarah. "We need to get seeds in the ground as soon as possible."

"Shouldn't we wait until after Granddad finishes the irrigation system?" asked Jet.

"It will probably take us over a week to dig a trench from the lake to the field, and even longer to set up mechanisms to control the flow of water, assuming the terrain will even let us make a functional trench. I can't make water flow uphill without pressurizing it, which is something we can't do," explained Sin. "Even building the rainwater collectors will probably take a few days."

"And it's not going to rain all the time, especially when we get into the summer," added Sarah. "We should probably just get used to watering crops the hard way. It's what we'll have to do if we never get an irrigation system working."

A tense hush fell over the table, Omid's mumblings for more food the only noise anyone could hear over the silence. Sarah scraped whatever little she could out of the bottom of the bowl and fed the boy before turning back to the rest of the group.

"We should get back to work." Just like that, the meal had ended and everyone sat up. Sin took Omid into the house, along with numerous barrels, tools, hoses, and plastic fittings all delivered care of Devlin and Anthony. The pair then returned to digging holes and filling them with fence posts and cement while Patty grabbed hold of a wheelbarrow parked behind the house. Pushing it behind Sarah as they were led back to the field, Clem could see the wheelbarrow was full of buckets filled with seeds.

"So what are we growing?" asked Clem as she studied the different seeds.

"Today we're just going to be planting onions, lettuce, and carrots," explained Sarah as she opened a gate for Patty. "Jet, can you go and fill these up with water?"

"Sure." Jet took a pair of watering cans out the wheelbarrow and started hurrying towards the distant pond while Patty did her best to maneuver over the mounds of dirt as she moved towards the closest corner of the field.

"What about after that?" Clem asked Sarah as Patty set the wheelbarrow down and took a deep breath.

"Well, after a lot of reading, I tried to pick the best stuff that should be easy to grow," said Sarah as she started examining the buckets carefully. "After the onions, lettuce, and carrots, we're going to plant green beans, corn, wheat, tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, and pumpkins."

"Pumpkins?" repeated Patty as she stretched her back. "Can we even eat those?"

"Winter squash ones we can. The book I read said they're not like the hard ones people use for Jack-o'-lanterns, these we can use for soup and the seeds we can cook and eat too."

"What about strawberries?" asked Clem as she eyed a bucket of long, thin seeds. "I thought you mentioned them while we were looking for the farm."

"They take a year before they start growing berries," said Sarah without looking up from the wheelbarrow.

"Really?"

"Sort of, they do grow fruit sooner, but it's usually really small and doesn't taste good. One book I read said it's better to cut off the flowers in the first year so it'll grow bigger and better fruit next year," said Sarah as she removed a binder from under her arm and started flipping through the pages. "I found these walk-in tunnel things made out of plastic for gardening at one of the stores in Tulsa. After he finishes the fence, Devlin said he'd help me set them up."

"Plastic tunnels?" said Patty. "What are those for?"

"You're going to make a greenhouse," realized Clementine. "Like Dr. Bostwick did."

"It's not going to be anywhere as big as hers, or as good…" admitted Sarah in a meek voice. "But yeah, strawberries can grow fruit for several years, so if I can grow them in a greenhouse, we can keep getting fruit from them even in the winter. Well, maybe next winter if I do everything right. I'm also going to set up some other stuff like onions and carrots in there just so we can collect seeds from them later, again, if I do everything right."

Briefly eyeing the binder Sarah was flipping through, Clem could see large tables of handwritten information spanning both pages, with a criss-crossing mess of arrows drawn in pencil pointing to various numbers whose purpose she couldn't even begin to guess. Sarah closed her binder with a quiet little sigh just as Jet came back, struggling to carry a couple of now full watering cans.

"Okay, Clem, you take these onion seeds." Sarah set her binder in the wheelbarrow and removed a bucket of what Clem thought looked like small, tan sunflower seeds. "Patty, you take the carrot seeds; Jet does lettuce," said Sarah as she handed a bucket to Patty next. "I'll water the dirt and plant whatever we need to keep a good pace when I'm not planting the chives."

"Chives?" said Clem. "You didn't mention those before."

"Wait, isn't chive just a spice?" asked Jet in between breaths as he set the watering cans down. "Do we really need to be growing them too?"

"Chives keep aphids away and help carrots grow and taste better," explained Sarah as she passed Jet a bucket of seeds.

"For real?" asked Patty as she looked at her own bucket. "They help these grow?"

"That's what one of the books said."

"If they get rid of bugs we should plant them everywhere," concluded Jet.

"When chives flower they spread seeds everywhere," explained Sarah as she knelt down to examine the dirt. "I'll try to cut off the flowers before that happens so we have seeds for next year. But if I miss any they'd probably pop up all over the field, and we'd have to pull them up like weeds since they would just take away space and water from stuff that gives up more food. But since they're good for carrots we can plant a few near them, and aphids don't like onions either, so that will help."

"Well we should just plant onions then," concluded Jet. "We want more of them and then we'd get even less aphids."

"We'll be eating the onions, so they won't always be here, but we can just leave the chive out here all season," said Sarah as she removed something that looked like an oversized thermometer from her pocket. "Also, onions hurt the growth of green beans, so we can't plant them everywhere."

"Man, plants are picky," concluded Patty.

"I know." Sarah used her fingers to dig a small hole, then buried the odd thermometer device up to its digital display.

"What are you doing now?" asked Clem as she watched Sarah fiddle with a couple of buttons on the display.

"I'm testing the soil's PH levels."

"What's PH?"

"It's—"

"Potential of hydrogen," said Jet suddenly. "It means how many hydrogen ions are in something." Everyone stared at Jet, as if they expected further explanation. "It just shows if something is acidic or not."

"All I know is the soil needs to be around a certain number for plants to be healthy," admitted Sarah as she looked at her tester.

"And?" asked Patty.

"And… I think this will be good enough, if the tester is right." Sarah put the device away and removed some rulers from the wheelbarrow. "Here, I cut these so you'd know how far you need to plant seeds apart without constantly looking at the numbers, just set them on the dirt next to the last few seeds you planted and it'll tell you where to put seeds next."

"Man, you've really got all this planned out," realized Patty as she examined the comically short ruler she was handed.

"Wait, onions need to be this close together?" asked Clem as she looked at her ruler, all four inches of it. "How come Jet's is so much longer?"

"Onions and carrots are root crops, they grow straight down and don't take up much space. Lettuce grows out, along with its roots, which take up more space. Hopefully they'll take up enough space between the onions and carrots that weeds won't grow near them."

"I'll trade you," offered Jet as he offered Clem his bucket.

"It's not that, it's just… this is going to take all day."

"Yeah, that's why were only doing three crops today," said Sarah. "We'll probably need all day tomorrow to do the three sisters."

"Sisters?" asked Jet.

"Oh hell, are we gonna have to read our crops Macbeth every night or some other insane crap?" asked Patty.

"No, three sisters is something the Indians did," said Sarah as she grabbed a watering can. "They'd plant corn, beans, and winter squash together. Corn is tall so beans can grow up it, beans add nitrogen to the soil that corn needs, and squash, which will be our pumpkins, cover the ground with their leaves, which makes it harder for weeds to grow, keeps moisture in the soil, and the prickly hairs on their vines keep certain pests away."

"So… the plants work together," concluded Clem.

"Some plants do, others don't," said Sarah.

"Shame there's no Osage left," lamented Jet. "I bet they could tell us which ones work with which."

"But you know which ones now because you read all about them, right?" asked Clem. "I bet you know which plants get rid of those stupid caterpillars who ate most of our tomatoes in Spokeston."

"Those are tomato hornworms," stated Sarah as she started watering the mounds of dirt near them.

"Worms that eat only tomatoes, wonderful," mumbled Patty.

"There's lots of stuff like that," said Sarah. "Like beetles that only eat pumpkins; there's a flower you can plant that keeps them away, but not for hornworms."

"So how do we get rid of them?" asked Jet.

"Find them and kill them," shrugged Sarah as she set the watering can down. "Also, I read you can spray tomatoes with soapy water and then throw cayenne pepper on them, that keeps them away."

"Uh, we'd have to wash and season every single tomato?" asked Patty as she looked out at the very long rows of dirt running across the field.

"Yeah, I think that tip was more for gardens than farms," said Sarah. "Oh, and you remember that one caterpillar with all those gross white eggs on it?"

"Ugh, I hated touching it, even with gloves on," said Clem.

"Don't touch it if you see one this year, any of you," instructed Sarah.

"Why, are they dangerous?" asked Jet.

"Yes, but not to us, to other caterpillars. Those eggs were actually cocoons for these special wasps that lay their eggs right inside caterpillars. When they hatch, they kill the caterpillars, then go fly off and find more caterpillars to lay eggs in."

"So instead of caterpillars we'd just have to worry about a swarm of killer wasps?" mused a sarcastic Patty.

"These wasps are super tiny and can't hurt people, but they kill lots of bugs that like to eat crops," explained Sarah, sounding frustrated as she did.

"So, if we just left that one I found alone… it would have killed all the other caterpillars, and we wouldn't have lost so many tomatoes?"

Sarah looked at Clem for a second, then turned away. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, I was just—"

"I should have known," Sarah blurted out.

"You couldn't have known that—"

"Yes I could." Sarah turned to Clem suddenly, starting the younger girl. "I had those encyclopedias and all those books, and I should have known that pests would have been a problem and… and… I screwed up."

"Jesus, cut yourself some slack Sarah," urged a sympathetic Patty. "None of us know jack shit about farming."

"Even Granddad told me he doesn't remember much from when he used to do it, other than he hated it," added Jet.

"And studying up on what kills what bug during a fucking apocalypse wasn't high up on any of our to-do lists," said Patty.

"And we know now," reasoned Clem.

"I still don't know what to do about birds," confessed Sarah. "None of them books I read mentioned any plants or things we can use to get rid of them, and they eat everything, even the seeds. I… I guess we can build a scarecrow, but I don't know how well that would really work."

"We'll figure it out." Clem placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder, but it didn't seem to reassure her. Instead, Sarah looked up at the sky and sighed.

"We need to get to work," she said. "It's noon and we haven't even started yet."

There was no shortage of work to be done, as Clem became more painfully aware of with each passing minute under the afternoon sun. Every time she looked up from sowing a handful of onion seeds, the field suddenly seemed to get a little longer. When asking Sarah why they were using so many seeds in each spot, she explained that some of the seeds probably aren't going to grow, and since they're two years old, she wasn't even sure any of them would grow.

Hearing that along with Sarah's constant micromanagement of their every action made the task feel even more arduous than it already was. The only minor breaks in the tedium were runs to get more water a couple of cans at a time and pushing the wheelbarrow forward, both things Sarah handled so the others could keep working. She was also extremely aware of the others progress, not hesitating to go ahead of them and plant some of their seeds so none of them would ever fall behind the others, eliminating any down time aside from the occasional water break.

Clementine's mind couldn't help but wander, constantly reminding her of literally everything else she could be doing right now instead. Playing a game, reading a book, spending time with Omid, sleeping, cooking, doing inventory, even doing a scavenging run all would have been better than constantly kneeling down, placing her ruler in the dirt, tossing a handful of seeds onto the ground, and repeating the entire series of actions for what felt like an eternity.

After a couple of hours, reaching the end of the field felt like something that would never actually happen. Clem could clearly see it long before they would ever arrive at it. Literally inching towards the end of this mind-numbing chore only a few short steps at a time while they baked in the hot sun felt like a form of torture. The last ten feet felt like they happened in slow motion and Clem's every attempt to speed things up just seemed to slow her down more as she nearly dropped things in her rush. Finally reaching the end of the field, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief; only for Sarah to inform them they needed to plant seeds going back the other way now for the next three rows.

This revelation was immediately met with a lot of resistance and more than a hint of resentment from everyone involved. But after looking out at how much of the field remained bare and her watch confirming they still had a few hours of daylight, Clem reluctantly agreed to complete at least one more set of rows before nightfall. Jet and Patty didn't look happy, and Clem nor Sarah was really all that thrilled about this either, but a weary sense of duty compelled the entire group to keep working without further discussion.

Briefly breaking for a mid-afternoon snack, Sarah retrieved the portable CD player from the Brave. Strangely, just a bit of familiar music did seem to help the task go faster; at least now Clem could listen to some songs instead of just plant seeds, which she could nearly do without thinking by this point. Planting seeds wasn't exactly hard, even with Sarah's various instructions; the difficulty came from having to do it so many times.

Night fell before they reached the other end of the field, but they weren't far away so the group continued to work in the dark. Sarah grabbed a few lanterns from the house while Clem struggled to remain standing. Her feet hurt from being on them so long and even her back ached a little from having to bend over so many times. Looking into her bucket, Clem was shocked to see it was nearly empty now, with her having to scrape the bottom with her dirt-stained fingernails just to get enough seeds to finish.

Nearing the fence, the music, which by now had burned itself into Clem's mind from having been repeated so many times, died. Shortly after, Sarah confirmed it was only the batteries, not the player itself, that was dead; Clem couldn't bring herself to care right now. Finally finishing the second set of rows was an accomplishment celebrated with everyone tossing their now mostly empty buckets into the wheelbarrow with all the excitement of someone clumsily throwing an empty can aside.

The four shuffled back towards the house in what would have been utter silence if not for their occasional weak moan. If Clem hadn't been so exhausted, she might have noted they looked and sounded like walkers right now, but really all she could think about was getting out of her dirty clothes and into her big soft bed. Patty broke from the group to retire to the Brave while the others walked past the metal fenceless posts and into the house.

An excitable Omid desperate for attention rushed up to meet Clem and Sarah, while a less excitable Sin followed behind him. Briefly glancing at the older man, Clem noted he looked tired too, but didn't look half as tired as she felt. She listened in disinterest as he explained how he had alternated between babysitting Omid and working on the rainwater collectors, which at the moment appeared to be a dozen barrels, long black hoses, and pieces of PVC piping sprawled across an otherwise empty living room.

Clem just let it all fly past her after she agreed to stay with Omid while Sarah took a bath. Eating a late dinner, feeding Omid, listening to Sin lay out what they would do tomorrow all just felt like a dream to her. Not the fun or exciting kind, but the odd ones about mundane things where you couldn't be sure if you were actually doing something or were just dreaming about it. Even eating some of their cherished freeze-dried ice cream didn't taste as sweet as she remembered it usually being.

Eventually, Sarah returned and agreed to help Omid get to sleep while Clem got changed. Heading for the bathroom, Clem was annoyed to find it was locked. She briefly considered heading back out to the Brave and using its shower. But the thought of going outside, into the Brave, bathing, coming back to the house, and heading back up the stairs, felt like more work than Clem's legs and arms were willing to commit to right now. Instead, she just slid down the wall and sat on the floor for a while.

Clem wasn't sure how long she just sat there, she was too tired to even check her watch. Eventually, Clem heard the lock on the door click and Jet stepped out. Looking up at the boy, the pair exchanged a mutual look of exhaustion, then parted ways without a word. Jet headed into his room while Clem headed into the bathroom. She sloppily brushed her teeth before undressing and climbing into the bathtub. Clem could barely muster the strength to lift a bucket of water over her head, and washing away the dirt was difficult when there was so much of it.

After rinsing out her hair, Clem hastily dried herself off and got dressed. It was pitch black now, and hearing quiet from Omid's room convinced her to leave it that way. Navigating by bits of moonlight streaking in through the windows, Clem slowly crept into their new bedroom. She could make out the outline of Sarah lying under the covers, likely asleep. Clem tossed off her shirt and nearly tripped stumbling out of her pants before collapsing onto the bed. Crawling under the covers, she discovered Sarah's warm body beside her while the bed enveloped her in its gentle embrace. Her head finding its way onto a soft pillow, Clem could feel her conscious self drifting away as quickly as a single leaf caught in a strong wind.

"Sah-rah!" called Omid's voice from the baby monitor. "Kem-men!"

"Your turn…" mumbled Sarah through her pillow.

Clementine took a deep breath, then grabbed the lantern resting on the night stand.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 71 - Wide Open Spaces

Clementine felt the wind stinging at her face as she pedaled down the road. It was warmer today, but still not nearly enough for her liking. The snow had disappeared almost as suddenly as it had come, and once again it felt like they were on their way to an early spring, or maybe they were just a few days closer to an ordinary spring now. Looking out at the vast empty fields of the Osage Nation, midday sun lighting every withered blade of grass, Clem was disappointed to find no signs of civilization beyond the power poles running beside the road, her only clues to a possible oasis in this desert of emptinesses.

Seeing a barn approaching on the horizon, Clem stopped pedaling and started coasting along on her momentum. A wooden fence came into view, and Clem suspected this was another cattle farm instead of the kind they were looking for, but seeing it was the only building for miles she stopped to check it out. Deploying her bike’s kickstand, Clem removed the tomahawk and raincoat stashed in her saddlebag and climbed over the decrepit wooden fence.

There wasn’t much in the pasture but a few stray weeds, but Clem could see something piled up in one of the corners across from her and a couple of bodies lying in the dirt just before that. Approaching them, she could see their decaying limbs had been twisted into unnatural positions, and their clothes were little more than darkly stained rags now, but she still raised her tomahawk and punctured the nearest one’s lifeless skull. Approaching the second body, Clem felt a leg bone snap under foot. Suddenly, the second corpse twitched, causing Clem to jump backwards in response. Watching anxiously, Clem saw that the walker’s head could only barely pivot in place using the torn strains of flesh that were once its neck. It could only fruitlessly chomp at the air, or even the dirt depending on which way its head bobbed; Clem put an end to its pitiful existence.

Reaching the corner of the field, Clem discovered what she had seen before were piles of bones that probably use to belong to a couple of horses. Their skeletons had been picked clean and left to bake in the sun, with weeds growing in the spots shaded by their presence. Looking ahead, Clem noticed the corner of the fence had been knocked down and past it she saw one more animal’s skeleton. Whenever that was the last one or there had been others who had escaped, she didn’t know.

Clem headed for the barn next, where she found nothing of interest, then the farmhouse just beyond it, which wasn’t much better. There was no food left, the dressers were left half-empty from when the previous occupants had fled, and the interior dotted with leaves, dirt, and other things that had likely blown in through the windows over the last two years. Having found nothing of value, Clem returned to her bike and resumed her lonely search.

“Pawhuska’s gone,” informed Devlin over the radio. “I was holding out hope this far into Osage land we’d find signs of them, but nothing.”

“When we investigated Hominy and the surrounding area, you said the damage was much worse than you expected and speculated it was possible troops from Oklahoma City could still be here into the Osage Nation,” reminded Sin. “Do you think they could be this far in?”

“Doubtful,” said Devlin. “We already knew the people living out here had consolidated on the area bordering Tulsa a long time ago. Even if OKC came in this far, Pawhuska looks abandoned like everywhere else, not burnt down and shot to hell like Hominy was…”

“I guess there’s probably not any Osage left,” concluded Sarah.

“Or any troops,” added Sin.

“Or if there are, they went in a different direction than us,” noted Devlin.

“We’re already halfway across the Osage Nation, and we still haven’t found anyone,” said Sarah. “Although, it’s a big area.”

“And empty,” added Sin. “This is our third day, and we still haven’t found a suitable place for the farm.”

“Only because you two are so picky,” retorted Anthony. “We’ve found tons of abandoned farms now, but for every single one you guys say—”

“We need to find the right one,” recited Sarah.

“Yeah, that,” said Anthony.

“I gotta ask, do we have any room to compromise on this?” said Patty. “I mean, multiple water sources, one big enough to fish in, two acres of flat farmland, buildings with roofs right for rainwater collection; can’t we get by without the fishing or—”

“You were all worried about the workload necessary to run a farm, as you should be,” reminded Sin. “Sarah and I devised what we felt were the bare minimum of necessities needed for the seven of us to run a self-sufficient farm without any help. Remember, we have no running water, no electricity, no animals, and we’re going to have to grow many different things. Farms usually grow many of one thing because different crops have different requirements, but we’d have no one to sell a surplus to, so—”

“I get it!” insisted Anthony.

“I did find a small river,” reported Patty. “I guess I can follow it for a while, see if it borders any farms.”

“Keep us posted.”

Clem slowed to a stop as she spotted something sitting in the road. Using her binoculars, she could see it was a black bicycle; Patty’s bicycle, which she had lent to Jet. Clem had known he was making a sweep of this area, but didn’t think she’d already looped back into the area he was surveying. Rolling her bike up to his, she looked around for any sign of the boy and spotted someone standing on a small hill in the distance.

“Jet!”

Clem watched as the figure turned around; it was him, and he started waving for her to come closer. She hopped off her bike and started walking across the hill. “Did you find something?” asked Clem as she moved up to join him. “It looks like it’s just cattle farms and ranches around here, no…” Clem looked out at the mass of metal debris blanketing a field leading up to a large broken metal tube. “Whoa.”

“Yeah.” Jet started moving down the hill, Clem following behind him. Charred chunks of metal littered the entire area, seemingly weaved into the thin layer of dead grass they were walking across. Even trying to avoid the bigger pieces, Clem heard harsh metal crunches under her shoes as she moved forward. Most of the debris was so badly burnt it was difficult to tell what they used to be. It wasn’t until she got closer to the tube in the distance an image of a passenger plane started to form in Clem’s head.

Approaching the broken fuselage sitting just beyond the debris field, Clem found herself becoming tense. Jet pulled his machete while Clem readied her tomahawk as the two stepped into what remained of the dark tube. Listening to their feet echo across that metal gave Clem a shiver, and carefully scanning the area made her paranoid something was going to jump out at her.

Jet suddenly raised his machete over his head as he pulled open a large cabinet, only to find nothing inside. Facing forward, the pair found themselves staring at a partially opened door just ahead. They moved in close, Jet approached the door while Clem traded her tomahawk for her pistol. He slowly pulled it open and Clem could see a wrecked cockpit inside. Jet briefly stuck his head back past the entrance then looked back at Clem.

“It looks empty.”

She followed Jet in, discovering a couple of seats facing cracked windows that looked out over the empty fields. Clutching her gun in her hand, Clem crept past the edge of the seat only to discover it was empty. There were a few stains on it that may have been blood, but were so faded it was hard to tell. Looking over, Clem saw Jet standing right beside her examining the other empty seat.

“I guess we shouldn’t have expected to find anything,” concluded Jet.

“You never know anymore,” said Clem as she put her pistol away.

“We’re out of the sun in here,” noted Jet. “You want to stop for lunch?”

“Sure.” The pair shut the door, piled their equipment into the corner and removed a couple of cans from their packs. Sitting down in the seats, Clem found something odd about looking out at an empty field through a cracked windshield. Observing the desolate landscape from the confines of an abandoned vehicle didn’t feel much different than sitting in the Brave actually.

“Thanks again for the hat.” Clem looked over to see Jet was wearing the Apollo cap she had given him not long after they met.

“It’s no problem,” she assured. “I’m surprised it fits you; I thought it was too small for me.”

“Granddad did some stuff to it make it bigger,” said Jet as he removed the cap. “He said I should just get a bigger hat, but I told him I’m probably never going to find another one like this now that we’ve left Houston. I think he likes that it says ‘Failure is not an option’, so he made little cuts in the back that let me stretch it out more; he’s handy like that, when he wants to be. Although I guess it’s silly wanting to keep this so bad, but…”

“You like it,” concluded Clem. “That’s a good enough reason to keep it.”

“I tell myself that I’m wearing this to remind me that if people could travel into space, then we can at least survive,” mused Jet. “But really, I just like it, like you said. If you had any more NASA stuff I’d wear it too.”

“We have a NASA jacket for when OJ gets bigger, but I don’t think your granddad could ever stretch it enough for you to wear it,” informed Clem. “We used to have a toy space shuttle too, but OJ lost it.”

“How?” asked Jet. “Doesn’t he stay in the RV most of the time?”

“He does, but he managed to lose it anyway. One day he had it, the next day he didn’t, and we couldn’t find it anywhere. He did the same thing with a pink marker we gave him once and some other stuff. Sarah thinks one day we’re just going to find some spot in the Brave where OJ has been hiding everything, but I think he probably just threw them in the trash and we didn’t notice until it was too late.”

Clem fished some corn out of her can and started chewing on it.

“So what do you think happened?” said Jet.

“To this plane?” asked Clem.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe someone was bitten, got on a plane, turned into a walker, then caused it to crash.”

“Yeah, probably.” Jet twirled his spoon around his can and sighed. “I remember when it all started, there was a plane crash on the news.”

“You think it was this one?” asked Clem.

“No, they said this happened near Dallas, so I guess there were two plane crashes that day… at least. At the time, people were worried about if it was terrorists or an accident or… something else. I guess it was the last one.”

“We still don’t really know what happened,” said Clem. “Not really, other than people turn into walkers now when they die or get bitten by one. You didn’t hear anything on TV that told you why this happened did you?”

“No, at least I don’t think; it all happened so fast,” said Jet as he shook his head. “I remember waking up that morning, seeing that plane crash on TV, and thinking how horrible it was. Around noon, the news was on every major channel, and they were talking about a riot in downtown Houston, and Granddad called to say he’d be coming home early. By the time he got back, there was an emergency broadcast on every channel telling everyone to stay indoors. It stayed on TV for a few days, then there was nothing…”

“I remember me and my babysitter being annoyed most of the channels didn’t have our favorite shows on, so we just did other stuff. It wasn’t until I was getting ready for bed did I know something was wrong. My babysitter thought she heard someone knocking on the door and went to check.”

“It was a walker, wasn’t it?”

“I heard her scream, then I found her in the kitchen, bleeding all over herself… then she tried to kill me. It just got worse after that.”

“I always thought things would have to get better eventually, but they never really did,” spoke Jet in a quiet voice. “Well, except meeting you and Sarah and Patty.”

“Things got better after you met us?” asked Clem. “I mean, we just told you how bad things really were and that New Orleans was wrecked.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. But, for once, people said they would help us, and you did… that was probably the best thing that happened to us in a long time.” Clem looked over at Jet, hunched over in his seat and he scrapped the bottom of his empty can. “Thanks…” he spoke in a whisper.

“Don’t thank us yet,” insisted a weary Clem as she tossed her empty can aside. “We’ve still got a lot to do.”

The pair gathered their equipment and returned to their bikes to pedal off in opposite directions. Clem didn’t like traveling alone, likely no one did these days, but with such a wide area to search they had little choice. No matter how far she went she could only find more empty space spreading out in every direction. If not for the utility poles and what remained of the road, Clem would suspect that no one had ever lived here to begin with.

Eventually, she found a worn but still paved road breaking from the highway, with power lines leading off in the same direction, meaning there had to be something this way. Following this path for a while, she found herself passing by a fairly large pond; a possible water source for their own farm Clem thought. She was going to detour towards it for a closer look when Clem noticed a truck parked on the road in the distance.

Skidding to a sudden stop, Clem used her binoculars to examine the vehicle. She could see the truck was parked between a gap in a fence, which was obscured by the dead trees bordering it. At first she assumed the truck was being used to block the road, but upon closer inspection she noticed the hood had been popped and one of the doors was open. Clutching her gun as she approached the vehicle, Clem saw more signs of it being abandoned, with all the tires being flat and the seats being covered in a thin layer of dirt. Checking under the hood, Clem saw a lot of disconnected cables and stray tools resting on the engine.

Moving past the truck and the fence, Clem discovered a one-story house just beyond them. A quick survey of the building revealed nothing out of the ordinary or any recent signs of habitation. Stepping out onto the back patio, Clem spotted something at the end of the yard she hadn’t noticed during her immediate inspection of the house’s exterior. Moving past the swimming pool half full of murky green water, Clem discovered three grave markers.

They weren’t as crude as the crosses made from random scraps of wood the military had left behind in areas they cleared out, but they were still primitive. They were little more than planks of wood cut in the shape of graves, the words carved on them barely legible. The first two graves had just names, likely James and Eleanor from Clem’s best guess, but the third one had ‘I’M SORRY’ written across it in big letters. Looking down, she saw this last marker stood in front of a grave that was still partially open.

Peering into it, Clementine could see the outline of a corpse only half covered in dirt, the vacant eye sockets of its head staring up at her. As distasteful as she found to do so, she gripped her tomahawk tightly and swung its blade into the rotten skull, creating a sickening crunch as she caved in what remained of this person’s face. Pulling out her tomahawk, Clem spotted something metal sitting in the corner of the grave.

Pushing aside the dirt with her hand, she discovered a pistol sitting right next to the deceased's head. Examining the weapon, she found it was in poor shape, filthy and rusted likely from being left in the dirt for so long. Removing the magazine was difficult as it refused to slide out, and even using her bayonet it was hard to pry the piece from the rest of the gun. There were still six bullets inside, and one more in the chamber after Clem managed to cycle the rusted pistol.

Tossing the gun itself back into the hole, Clem noticed a shovel lying in the grass not far from the grave. The house had been devoid of even scraps of food, with jars of condiments having been scraped clean. The broken truck was the only transportation she had seen in the area, with not even so much as a bicycle left in the garage. Considering the gun she found in the grave and the words on the wooden headstone, Clem surmised this person possibly shot themselves after running out of food, likely even climbing into their own grave before they did it.

Whenever or not that was the fate of the other two people, she couldn’t say. She hadn’t seen any overt messages or notes in the house, and she wasn’t keen on going back to look for one. All Clem had was the message ‘I’m sorry’ on the final grave, and even trying to decipher its exact meaning unsettled her. Looking at the still uncovered corpse, Clem felt a sudden urge to finish it. Whenever motivated because of sentimentality or guilt from literally robbing their grave, Clem picked up the shovel and started moving dirt into the hole one scoop at a time.

“Sound off,” Clem heard Devlin say through her radio. “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah,” said Clem as she grabbed her radio. “I’m fine.” Clem took a deep breath as she placed the radio back on her belt, then started shoveling again.

“I’m okay,” she heard Jet say next. “Still haven’t found anything that you guys want though.”

“We’re okay too,” assured Sarah.

“No one has had any luck?” asked Sin.

“None,” reported Patty’s voice.

“You think we’d at least find someone’s leftover crops by now,” reasoned Anthony. “Didn’t you say these Osage people were already growing stuff?”

“They were attacked near the end of the growing season,” answered Devlin. “If they were any survivors, from the Osage or OKC, they probably took whatever was left before leaving.”

“Yeah, but surely there were some corn farmers or something around here,” said Anthony. “Shouldn’t we at least see something growing after they left? I mean, corn grew in the wild before right?”

“Not like we have now,” said Sarah.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Anthony.

“In one of the books I read, it said that most of the fruits and vegetables we eat are only the way they are because people started growing them.”

“What?” asked Patty.

“Well like corn, the book I read said thousands of years ago, corn was a really small and dry grass, and it wasn’t until people started growing it did it change and get a lot bigger like the corn we have now.”

“It just… got bigger?” asked Jet.

“It likely mutated over dozens of generations after it was domesticated,” speculated Sin. “Farmers would obviously want to maximize their yield, so they’d do everything they could to make their crops as fruitful as possible, and over hundreds of years the plants themselves would adapt to their new conditions.”

“Yeah,” said Sarah. “But that means they’re used to being grown on farms now, and don’t do well in the wild.”

“Are you serious?” asked Anthony. “You’re saying we can only grow food on farms now because that’s what they’re used to?”

“Some foods,” said Sarah. “Others were bred with similar or different fruits and vegetables to make them better, or make new ones altogether.”

“Make new fruits and vegetables?” asked Devlin. “Like what?”

“Well, I read lemons were something people created by mixing two different citrus fruits,” said Sarah. “Animals wouldn’t eat something so sour which means they wouldn’t spread its seeds, so the only way they could exist is if people invented them.”

“We invented lemons?” asked Anthony in disbelief. “Um… we invent any other fruits?”

“I seem to remember reading that bananas were similar to lemons,” said Sin. “The ones we got at stores don’t have seeds because they were created by cross-breeding two different types of bananas, and the result was a bigger and better-tasting fruit with no seeds.”

“Wait, if they don’t have seeds, how did we ever make more of them?” asked Patty.

“Probably through cloning,” said Sarah.

“Are you serious?” asked Patty.

“Well, cloning a plant isn’t like cloning animals,” said Sarah. “You cut off part of it, plant it in the ground, then take care of it until it grows into a new plant on its own. When strawberries stop growing berries, they grow these long vines called stolons that grow away from the plant and into the dirt to make a new strawberry plant just like the old one; they actually clone themselves.”

“Stolon?” asked Clem as she stopped shoveling for a second. “That word sounds familiar.”

“Yeah, Dr. Bostwick said it when she was… well not teaching us about plants really.”

“The problem with cloning is there’s no opportunity for the species to adapt if its environment ever changes,” said Sin. “What I read also mentioned the bananas we have now, or had, were actually smaller than the ones people ate until the nineteen-fifties. A disease wiped out most of those types of bananas though, and since they were all clones of each other and couldn’t produce different versions that could possibly adapt, they died out and we had to switch to a different type of banana that wasn’t susceptible to the disease.”

“I thought you were only an expert on oil or something?” asked Anthony.

“I’ve done a lot reading on horticulture and botany lately,” said Sin.

“Me too,” added Sarah.

“How the hell did Valkaria keep all those orange trees going if this stuff is so complicated?” asked Patty.

“Southern Florida was probably the right climate for orange trees to grow,” said Sin.

“And orange trees don’t usually need to be pollinated to grow fruit,” added Sarah. “So you just have to worry about keeping them alive.”

“What about apple trees?” asked Devlin.

“I think I read they need to be near a different kind of apple tree to pollinate each other, otherwise they might not grow any apples,” said Sarah. “I’ll have to check, I brought notes for apple trees.”

“Devlin, do you know what kind of apple trees those saplings should make?” Jet asked.

“I have no idea,” answered Devlin.

“This is all making my head spin,” said Patty.

“I always thought you just put seeds in the ground and that was it,” said Anthony.

“Agriculture is complicated; if it wasn’t, famine never would have been a problem.” Clementine paused as Sin said that. She found herself staring at her own shadow laying on the mound of dirt in front of her, the headstone resting just past it. “The surpluses of food we used to enjoy weren’t by accident; we arrived at that by careful design.”

“And cheap labor, don’t forget that,” added Devlin with a hint of derision. “Which we don’t have.”

“We don’t have anyone who’s an expert on this stuff either,” said Sarah. “If Dr. Bostwick was here—”

“She’s not,” said Clem as she tossed the shovel aside. “Nobody is…” she said as she turned away from the graves. “It’s just us.”

“Yeah, I know…” said Sarah.

“Unless one of you find a suitable site soon, we should prepare to move on,” said Sin. “Sarah and I will check the map to see where we can try tomorrow.”

Clementine returned to her bike and continued her search of the area, finding more emptiness and a few scant abandoned homes that weren’t adequate for their needs. Moving into the late afternoon, Clem reunited with Jet, who confirmed he had no success either. The pair started pedaling back the way they came, eventually arriving at a lone neglected airstrip where two semi-trailers and a couple of familiar RV’s were parked.

Standing behind the Brave, Clem saw Devlin leaned up against the RV.

“Was just about to call you kids,” said Devlin as he tossed his cigarette aside. “You two okay?”

“Yeah,” said Clem as she hopped off her bike.

“Except we didn’t find anything, again,” added Jet.

“Join the club.” Devlin grabbed Clem’s bike and carried it over to Brave’s bike rack. “Pawhuska was a total bust; not even any infected left.”

“We found a crashed plane,” reported Jet as Devlin moved the second bike onto the rack.

“A plane?”

“What’s left of one,” said Clem. “It crashed a long time ago, probably right after everything got bad.”

“Probably just one of many,” said Devlin as he set the second bike on the rack. “That first day, we were hearing reports of all kind of things. Some of us thought it was actually a coordinated attack before we realized it was an outbreak… or whatever the hell it was.” Devlin sighed.

“Do… do you know where Granddad is?”

“He went to chill in his RV after I brought it back from Pawhuska,” said Devlin. “Guess he needed a break.”

“So do I,” said Jet as he headed towards the Sunseeker.

“Me too,” said Clem as she took off her backpack.

“You sure you two are okay doing this?” asked Devlin as Clem headed for the Brave’s door. “I mean, I talked with Sin and he said he was willing—”

“It’s fine Devlin.” Looking over her shoulder at the man, Clem could see the unsettled look resting on his usually chiseled face. “I get it bothers you kids are doing this, but the sooner we find somewhere to stay, the sooner we’ll all feel safer.”

“You ever change your mind or just want a break, you just tell me.”

“I will… thanks Devlin.” Clem managed to force a smile on to her face for the man. She was grateful for his concern, but her mind was too preoccupied to fully appreciate it right now. Heading into the Brave, Clem found herself stepping over boxes and maneuvering past a still unassembled crib in front of the couch just to reach the fridge to store her raincoat.

Tossing her backpack aside, Clem headed for the bedroom as quickly as she could while stepping over large boxes sitting in the way. Inside she found Sarah sprawled out on the bed, surrounded by binders and books while a map was laid out in front of her. She didn’t even look up when Clem entered the room, and appeared exhausted herself.

“Kem-men!” Clem watched as Omid climbed over his crib’s railing to get to her faster.

“Hey OJ,” said Clem as Omid landed on the pillow set outside his crib.

“Omid,” dictated Sarah.

“Huh?”

“You should start calling him Omid,” said Sarah without looking up. “Now that he’s starting to learn words, we shouldn’t confuse him by calling him different names.”

“Kem-men,” repeated Omid as Clem looked away from him.

“He can already kind of say our names,” said Sarah. “But I don’t think he knows his yet because you and I call him different things.”

Clem found herself irritated that this was the first thing Sarah said to her upon her return. “I’m back by the way…” Sarah looked up, clearly annoyed herself, prompting an awkward stare down between the pair for a few seconds before Sarah sighed.

“Sorry,” she said as she looked away. “I had a lot of time today with nothing to do, so I was trying to get him to say Omid and noticed he had trouble with it, even though he’s getting better at saying Sarah.”

“Sah-rah,” repeated Omid.

“Listen to you,” said Clem in a sweet voice. “You’re talking like a big boy now Oh… Omid.”

“Oh-muh,” babbled Omid.

“That’s about as close as he gets right now,” said Sarah as she carefully crawled off the bed.

“I’ll start calling him Omid,” assured Clem as she set him down.

“It won’t be forever, just until he learns his name, and only when he’s around; it doesn’t matter if you call him OJ when it’s just us and he doesn’t hear you.”

“Where’s Patty?” asked Clem.

“She said she was going to meet up with Anthony and check something out before they came back.”

Clem pulled her radio from her belt. “Patty?” Clem waited for a second, but received no answer. “Patty, are you—”

“Give me a minute,” whispered Patty in a harsh tone.

Clem looked over at Sarah and saw she was every bit as concerned. Without thinking, the pair moved back towards the front; Clem collecting her backpack and Sarah heading for the driver’s seat, both anticipating trouble. Watching through the windshield, Clem could see Sin stepping out to meet Devlin, the two men clearly worried about what they had heard over the radio. Sarah already looked ready to turn the key when there was another cracking sound from the radio.

“Okay,” said Patty. “I think we found it.”

“Found what?” asked Clem.

“Sarah, are you there?” asked Patty.

“Yeah.”

“Get your map.” Patty passed along some directions and both RV’s headed for the nearest road. The sun was setting now, but Patty assured the group they didn’t have far to go. From her seat, Clem eventually watched as something come into view just beyond the vast empty fields spread out before them. She could see the orange glow of the sunlight bouncing off water on the horizon. It was pleasant at first, then somewhat blinding as the size of the body of water they were approaching became apparent.

“I think we found a water source,” said Sarah over the radio in awe as she slowed down to get a better view.

“Yes,” said Sin, sounding stunned. “I see that.”

“Bet the fishing’s good too,” added Anthony.

As they drove along a road bordering the lake, Clem could see just how big it really was. It paled in comparison to Lake Pontchartrain or even the Indian River, but it still dwarfed every meager pond and stream they had seen since entering the Osage Nation.

“The lake is just the start,” said Patty. “You’re gonna love what comes next.”

Following the road through a dead forest and over what looked like a small swamp where the lake met the land, the trees began to thin out and an old wooden fence came into view. Beyond that, Clem saw a fenced in field with a pond in the corner and what looked like a stable. Across from it was a big farmhouse with a chimney, along with a smaller guest house and a big shed. Rounding a corner, Clem found themselves moving down a driveway to where Anthony’s truck was parked.

“Come on out,” prompted Patty. “We checked the area, it’s safe.”

Stepping out with the others to examine her surroundings, the group was immediately greeted by Patty and Anthony.

“Whatta think?” asked Anthony as he gestured to their surroundings. “Pretty nice huh?”

Clem moved over to the fenced-in field to study it closer. It was pretty quaint compared to the other fields she had seen, but still seemed big enough for their needs. Staring at that patch dirt, she started envisioning rows of vegetables growing there and her coming out every morning to water them from the large pond sitting in the corner of the field.

“That stable’s roof would be good for rainwater collection.” Clem looked up to see Sin was studying the large structure just past the field. It was long and metal, with deeply slanted roofs. “If we could put some gutters up, we could probably collect barrels of water easily every time it rains.”

“This looks like at least two acres,” said Sarah as she stared out over the field. “At least… I think it is.”

“I also found what looks like a pretty new tractor in that barn that I can probably get running,” said Patty “I think this place was in the process of changing owners or something because the house is almost bare.”

“Bare?” repeated Clem as she moved to get a better look at the house in question.

“Almost nothing in there but some basic furniture; dressers, one big bed and a smaller bed in a separate room, a few tables, chairs, and so on,” listed Patty. “Looks real sturdy though, like they had just finished renovating, two stories, plenty of room, one and a half bathrooms, even has this old timey looking stove that’s part of the kitchen.”

“One and a half bathrooms?” asked Jet.

“One with an actual bathtub on the second floor and then there’s a closet with a toilet and a sink on the first floor,” said Patty.

Studying the house, Clem saw it had a big welcoming front porch leading up to a bright red door. Seeing the chimney in the back, Clem started reminiscing about the many nights she and Sarah had spent in front of a fire in Spokeston, and checking one of the second-story windows, she imagined what the view must have looked like from up there.

“What about the guest house and the shed?” asked Sin.

“Pretty much the same, mostly empty but they look sturdy,” said Patty. “There’s also a storm shelter on the edge of the yard.”

“Ugh, stay away from that,” cautioned Anthony.

“Why?” asked Clem. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s creepy.”

“Creepy?”

“It’s small and dark and cramped.”

“It’s a storm shelter Anthony,” said Patty. “It’s what they’re like.”

“Well then I don’t like storm shelters,” said Anthony as he crossed his arms.

“We could probably put up chainlink fence around all of this and the driveway, keep any stray infected who wander in away from us and our vehicles while we’re sleeping,” proposed Devlin. “And all the cover will make this place harder to see.”

Looking around, Clem noticed the entire area was surrounded by dead trees, almost like they were encircling this tiny farm. At the moment their branches were bare and casted twisted shadows over the area, but as spring came and leaves returned, they would block out any view of the outside area, as well as hide the farm from sight from anyone looking in. Again, Clem found herself picturing what it would look like, and found the idea of a home tucked away in a small forest very comforting.

“I’m concerned about how close this place is to Pawhuska though,” said Sin. “We can’t be more than a few miles away, and that lake we passed is big enough that it’s probably on most maps of the area.”

“Being close to Pawhuska might not be a bad thing,” said Devlin. “It might not have any food, but there’s still plenty of tools and goods we can salvage; save us a long trip back to Tulsa if we ever need anything.”

“The lake is on the map in my atlas, but it doesn’t list a name for it,” said Sarah. “It’s a lot smaller than the one we checked out near Hominy though.”

“You can’t have it both ways man,” said Anthony. “Anywhere with a big ass lake or river isn’t going to be totally isolated because other people are going to want water for the same reasons we do.”

“We did spend some time scouting around the edge of it,” said Patty. “Lot a little small docks built just past the shore, probably for people to go boating in the summer, but we didn’t see any other farms or big houses, let alone one as close as this.”

“That’s another thing, there’s some distance between that lake and this actual farm,” said Sin. “Trying to build a trench out to here from it would be a challenge.”

“Seriously?” asked Patty. “This is pretty much everything you and Sarah have been asking for. We haven’t seen anything else even close, not on these damn country roads we’ve been searching.”

“And the longer we wait the closer we’re going to get to the growing season,” said Sarah. “It’s already early March, and we haven’t even started yet.”

“Kem-men! Sah-rah!” Clem spun around to see Omid slowing climbing down the Brave’s steps one at a time.

“I gotcha you.” Clem picked up the boy, then looked ahead at the spacious house and large yard in front of her. “I vote we stay,” announced Clem suddenly.

“Ditto,” said Anthony.

“I think we all do except you,” said Patty as she turned to Sin. The man crossed his arms and looked out over the land, slowly evaluating everything with a careful eye. “Well?”

“I think we should search the immediate area a little more thoroughly.”

“Granddad, are you seriously—”

“Just to be sure there are no immediate threats in this region, or even better places to settle on this same lake,” explained Sin. “We can do that tomorrow, and if we don’t find anywhere better to settle, we could probably make this place work for us.”

“Good enough for me,” said Patty. “Anthony, give me and Devlin a lift back to the airstrip so we can bring the trucks up. Unless we stumble upon Xanadu in northern Oklahoma tomorrow, we’ll probably be off-loading them before long.”

“Got it.”

“Come on Clem, we should—” Clem took a step towards the house.

“Let’s go inside,” she said.

“Why?” asked Sarah.

“To see our new home.”

“We don’t know—”

“If we stay here, it’ll be our new home; don’t you want to at least see what it looks like first?” Clem looked down to see Omid trying to approach her while Sarah held onto one of his hands. “Omid wants to see his new home.”

“Oh-muh,” he repeated as he kept trying to pull free from Sarah.

“All right,” said Sarah as she took a step forward, bringing Omid close enough to Clem to hold his other hand. “Let’s check it out.”

The trio pushed past the big red door and emerged into a spacious foyer. The house was largely bare as Patty had described it, but Clem found herself quickly growing comfortable with her surroundings anyway as she kept envisioning filling in the empty spaces with their own possessions. Their books in the book shelves, their pots and pans in the kitchen cabinets, even their laundry hanging in the backyard.

The living room was spacious with a massive brick fireplace positioned in the back, which the girls had to stop an excitable Omid from crawling into. Sarah suggested a table in front the fireplace would be a great place to spend evenings playing games together. Picturing it, Clem saw it as something big and open like the cabin while being cozy and comfortable like their home in Spokeston; she felt warmer just thinking about it.

Heading back to the foyer and towards the stairs, the pair stopped to help Omid climb his way up. He still struggled to scale each step, but seemed to enjoy the challenge, looking more determined with each one he conquered. Reaching the top, Clem pushed open the nearest door and the trio entered an almost entirely empty room. Except for the window and the empty closet, it was a bare four walls and Clem was about to leave when she felt Omid pulling free from her grip.

“Omid, come on.”

“No,” said Omid as he pulled away from the girls. He walked further into the room, awestruck or perhaps just confused by his surroundings.

“I don’t get it, what’s he looking at?” said Sarah.

Clem watched as Omid stood in the middle of the room, his mouth agape as he kept staring up at the blank ceiling.

“He’s never been in a room this big before,” realized Clem.

“He hasn’t?” said Sarah. “At the Space Center we—”

“Not like this, where it’s just a regular room you stay in,” said Clem. “Everywhere he’s stayed has always been really cramped. Even back in Spokeston, he stayed in a bedroom with us, and it was smaller than this. This is… it’s like more space than he’s ever had before.”

“You’re right,” noted Sarah as she knelt down to get a better look at Omid. “Do you like this room?”

“Do you like your new room?” corrected Clem.

“Ruh-roo.” Omid eventually turned his gaze downward, and instead started walking over to the window. Clem scooped him up and held him up to the glass. “Ah-bree-duh-ah-sah!” he cheered as planted his hands on the window.

“It’s perfect,” said Clem with a smile.

“Really?” said Sarah. “It’s empty.”

“Exactly,” said an excited Clem. “We can make a room just for Omid, one that he can grow up in and be happy in for years.”

“All we have to do now is learn how to run a farm,” said Sarah, sounding less enthusiastic.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 70 - Finality

"Eight, ten, twelve—wait, didn't I already count these two?" Clementine had come to deeply regret not doing inventory before she painstakingly stuffed every compartment, cupboard, and drawer on the Brave full with everything they had taken from the shopping center. Fresh tools, auto supplies, ammo, new clothes, and a massive but nutritionally diverse horde of food were just some of the many goods that had consumed every last speck of free space left in her humble home. Even going to check on their supply of medicines required Clem to maneuver around a stack of encyclopedias sitting in middle of the hall and inch past a large box containing a new crib before she could even open the bathroom door.

"Kem-men!" greeted Omid as he waved from inside the toilet.

"OJ, no!" Clem dropped her pen and notepad and rushed forward. "How did you get out again?" Carrying Omid back to the bedroom required Clem to dance around the boxes full of salt and sugar parked in front of the door while carrying a messy baby. "What were you doing in there?" she asked as she set Omid on the bed.

"Ah-clah-da-geg." Clem cleaned Omid off and changed his clothes, then doubled checked his old crib. He hadn't managed to pry it open, nor tip it over. Setting him inside, Clem briefly watched as Omid pawed at the top of the railing before she realized the boy was taller than from a month ago and he could probably just climb out now. Knowing there wasn't a lot she could do to stop Omid from escaping his crib, Clem set a couple of heavy books on the toilet seat and got back to work.

She tallied the many medicines they had taken from the Sam's Club pharmacy. The previous residents had written simple layman terms like 'ANTIBIOTIC' or 'PAINKILLER - STRONG' across the original labels in big letters, making Clem's work a little easier. She also counted up their other medical supplies like gauze, alcohol, and a bunch of tools taken from the nearby hospital. Opening a small box, Clem cringed when she saw it was full of small, curved needles. She quickly put them away and hastily wrote down 'Box of Scary Needles' on her notepad.

Counting the packages of tampons under the sink, Clem found herself reaching for one facing the wrong way, curious to what was written on the back of it. What was there didn't do much to satisfy Clem's curiosity, in fact it only raised more questions. The picture of something she thought looked like a big plastic pen, some vague instructions about 'insertion', and some claims of offering protection from 'leaks' baffled Clem. She was about to open the box when she heard a loud bang from outside. Hurrying past the clutter as fast as she could, Clem retrieved her gun and burst outside.

"Patty?" Clem saw the woman moving away from the semi-truck parked in front of the Sam's Club.

"Oh sorry, I didn't scare you or anything?" said the woman as she grabbed hold of a cart parked next to the vehicle.

"I heard a bang a second ago."

"That was just me slamming the door," said Patty as she pushed her cart forward. "I was just dropping off some stuff for our big ass food truck here."

"None of those are for the Brave are they?" asked Clem as she eyed the glut of spare parts and containers of various fluids automobiles needed all sitting in Patty's cart. "Because we don't have any room… at all."

"Nah, this is for the semi we're storing our building materials in," said Patty as she pushed the cart. "Was just gonna run it over to the hardware store."

"I could do that," volunteered Clem.

"It's okay, I—"

"Please?" begged Clem.

"You… want to push this heavy stuff across the lot?"

"Not really, but—"

"Kem-men!" Clementine turned to find Omid waddling up to her. "Ah-wah-ah-bree!"

"I could use a break from OJ," confessed Clem. "I love him, but—"

"Parenting is a full-time job." Patty marched up the Brave's steps. "And you could use a babysitter." Patty scooped Omid off the ground. "What do you say little man, you want to hang out with your aunt Patty today?"

"Pad-dah." Omid grinned as Patty held him.

"Great, thanks Patty."

"Dress warm," said Patty as Clem rushed into the bedroom. "We got another freaky cold snap today." Rummaging through her own dresser, Clem was annoyed she packed her winter clothes so deeply into the drawer. "Oh, and before you go, leave the box on the bottom rack here," said Patty as Clem rushed outside to the shopping cart.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she knelt down and grabbed the large, flat box hanging out past the edge of the cart.

"Read it."

The box was surprisingly heavy, forcing Clem to drag it off. Dropping it onto the pavement created a slight clanking sound, at which point Clem noticed the words written on the cardboard.

"Bike rack for… RV's?"

"Yeah, I figured since we got that portable generator from the hardware store for our pump, we wouldn't need another trailer and could use the hitch for that. We could take our bikes with us to our new home. They'd be handy to have, plus, if we're going out into the country, there're probably lots of great places to ride."

"Wait, you said we. Does that mean—"

"I picked myself out a nice looking black mountain bike yesterday when I rounding up some odds and ends for our expedition into Indian territory," said Patty with a sly smile as she adjusted her grip on Omid. "If it works out, I might put one on the Sunseeker too; Jet mentioned he used to love riding his bike, so we might even have some company."

"That'd be great," said Clem as she buttoned her jacket. "Or it will be, as soon as it warms up."

"All right, say bye to Clem."

"Bah-kem-men!"

"Bye OJ!"

Clem pushed the cart forward across the cracked asphalt, the cold nipping at the uncovered parts of her face as she moved. The delay of what had felt like an upcoming early spring had been irritating but was only a minor annoyance compared to the last several days of preparation. Clem had lost track of how many hours they had spent loading things into trucks, and their attempts to plan for every contingency would always inevitably be derailed later by some other then unseen issue that forced them to start over.

Just looking at the other semi-trailer parked in front of the hardware store made Clem feel tired, and the long walk over to it gave her plenty of time to think about all the hassle involved with trying to prepare these hulking vehicles for the road. Everything from Patty fixing the trucks, to attaching the trailers, to getting them in the shopping center had been a struggle, and seeing Devlin and Sin talking outside the hardware store just led Clem to believe there had been yet another issue with loading it today.

"Then ditch some of the jars," Clem overhead Devlin say as she neared the pair. "Make some room that way."

"We'll need those to can our crops for the winter," insisted Sin. "We can store some of the jars in the truck's cab."

"The cab is stuffed with crap as it is, we'll barely have room for…" Devlin stopped when he noticed Clem pushing the cart towards him. "Let me guess, that's the auto supplies Patty sent over for the semi?"

"Yep," answered Clem as she let go of the cart.

"Just leave it there, I'll take care of it." Clem watched as Devlin opened the door to the truck and revealed the space behind the seats was already stuffed with boxes and large tools. Grabbing a battery out of the cart, Clem watched as Devlin pushed things around in a desperate attempt to squeeze just a little bit more into this already overpacked space.

"If these jars are so important why don't you keep them in your RV?" suggested Devlin.

"Our RV is already full; it's hard enough to move around in there as it is without knocking over one of the fruit tree saplings we salvaged from the community garden you showed us," said Sin. "Especially with Jet watering them every morning."

"Our RV is full too," added Clem as Devlin grabbed a couple of containers of motor oil from the cart.

"This would be a lot easier if we had another vehicle," mumbled Devlin as he tried to find a spot for a box of large fuel filters.

"Patty said she was lucky to get these two trucks working," reminded Sin. "Trying to find and repair a third would delay us even further, and when we've nearly finished packing anyway."

"Yeah, nearly. How bout we just cut back on the damn jars then? Do we really need five hundred of them?" Clem moved around to the back of the trailer, discovering stacks of cases full of glass jars piled up on the ground.

"Eight of us, eating every day over three, four, or even five months of winter depending on the weather; do the math. I have, and even with other food sources like fishing, five-hundred is actually still on the low side."

"Then ditch a few of the barrels. We've got plenty."

"Actually we're a few short on them going by the estimates I've worked out with Sarah," informed Sin. "I'd rather we not cut back any more than we have."

Moving past the edge of the trailer, Clem saw the door was still open. She could see black plastic barrels lined up by the very edge with various pieces of building materials such as rolled up chainlink and fence posts laying on top of them.

"We're not going to need these jars for a while," reasoned Devlin. "So why don't I just grab them on my first trip back to Tulsa in a month?"

"We'll likely still be using both trailers for storage in a month," reminded Sin. "You'd only have the truck itself, which doesn't hold much, and depending on what happens we might need you to bring back other things on your monthly trips; I'd rather not commit that space to the jars if it can be helped."

Clem hopped up onto the lip of the trailer's interior and looked at the barrels. Most of them were a single solid piece, but she noticed one past the first row had a separate lid on it. Climbing over the top of the barrels and inching towards the one with a lid, Clem squeezed herself under a roll of chainlink and undid the barrel's clasps.

"Look man, I don't know what to tell you." Clem heard Devlin say as she slid the lid off. "Transporting a bunch of jars in there without breaking them was going to be hard enough without running out of space. If we just threw them on top then we'd probably just be opening a trailer full of broken glass by the time we find somewhere to settle."

"Why not put the jars in the barrels?" yelled Clem as she looked into the empty container.

"What'd you say?" Clem looked over her shoulder just in time to see Devlin and Sin move in front of the trailer's open door.

"I said, why not put the jars in barrels." Clem climbed across the barrels and showed the pair the lid she was holding. "The barrels are empty, so why not put the jars in them?"

"We only got four of the ones with lids, the rest are all one pieces," said Devlin as Clem carefully climbed off the barrels and back onto the lip of the trailer. "That's a lot of jars for four barrels."

"Those barrels hold fifty-five gallons each; the jars come in cases of twelve, hold a quart each, which makes three gallons a case. Even with the shape of the containers we probably could get ten to a barrel, that's nearly five-hundred jars, and the barrels would give them protection."

"Yeah, but I don't know where the hell the other three barrels with lids are," said Devlin. "They could be packed all the way near the back of the trailer; we'd have to move everything on top of them to get in there."

"If we start now we'd probably be done by lunch."

Devlin stared at Sin for a moment, then sighed. "Clementine, could you do me a favor and go find Anthony? We're gonna need an extra hand here. I think he's parked in front of the big kid orphanage."

"Sure." Clem hopped off the trailer and started jogging across the parking lot, wishing she had her bike with her. Approaching the orphanage, Clem spotted Anthony's truck and headed towards the store it was closest to. Moving inside, she found Anthony shooting a three-pointer from the end of the building.

"Hey Clem," greeted Anthony in a loud voice as he retrieved the ball. "You here for a little one on one?"

"No. Devlin just sent me to tell you he needs your help loading the truck."

"What? He said he could handle the rest without me."

"He needs help moving some stuff around so everything will fit."

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"Goddammit!" Clem jumped as Anthony drop-kicked the ball, sending it slamming into the wall with a loud and hard thud before bouncing violently backwards towards the end of the store. "We haven't even started this farm yet and it's already turning into more trouble than it's worth. I can barely get to my bed through all the fucking bags of seeds and fish traps piled up in my camper."

"Yeah, the Brave is cluttered too…" spoke a tepid Clem. "Still, Sin said you should be done by lunch."

"Yeah great, another meal of crap out of a can because everyone is too busy to cook," groused Anthony.

"Um… well, I could cook something." Anthony's eyes lit up when she said that. "Patty is looking after OJ, so I've got nothing to do right now."

"Hmm, the stuff you make is usually pretty good." Clem couldn't stop herself from smirking upon hearing that. "You think you could make one of those beef stews? I don't know what you do to it but it tastes a lot better than when I eat it right out of the can."

"I just warm it up and add some spices."

"You added something else last time you made it. I distinctly remember chewing on something that wasn't beef."

"Probably carrots," said Clem. "I used to add it to soups back when we had a garden, and I found some canned carrots last time I cooked stew."

"That'll at least give me something to look forward too," said Anthony as he headed for the door. "That and the hope that all this bullshit will lead to something better to eat than whatever we scoop out of a can."

Clem stepped out in time to watch Anthony get into his truck. He drove off towards the hardware store, leaving Clem alone. Checking her watch, Clem lamented that Devlin insisted they all start wearing watches. Although she enjoyed how the rainbow colored band matched the bracelet on her other hand, looking at the clock's face reminded her of how their lives were going to change once they were on a farm. Clem didn't necessarily like scavenging for food, but living without strict schedules had been a minor perk that she found kind of liberating. Still, she had to admit it was useful to know it was an hour to noon and she had time to cook lunch for everyone.

Hurrying back to the Sam's Club, Clem headed right into the concessions area. She retrieved a few cans of beef stew, one can of carrots, some onion powder and other spices, and went straight to work readying a meal ready for a group of hungry and hardworking people. As the stew simmered, she spooned some sliced apples out of a couple of cans, mixed some beverages, and decided to even grab some freeze-dried ice cream from the Brave, where she stopped long enough to let Patty know she was making a meal for everyone and it'd be ready at noon.

After she had finished setting out the bowls, plates, and utensils, Clem sat down to enjoy an early lunch herself, figuring it was the least she could do for herself after cooking it. Canned meat stews were a treat, normally being a rare find this long into the outbreak. Yet even with her delicate balance of spices it still tasted off. Not spoiled, but the chunks of meat were mushy and had little flavor, and the carrots weren't much of an improvement. The apples faired a bit better, tasting very sweet, but were still mushy. The freeze-dried ice cream however was just as good as the first time Clem tried it, and she savored each piece for as long as she could.

"So you did cook us a meal." Clem looked over to see Jet pushing a cart towards the concessions area. "I thought I heard Patty wrong earlier."

"Nope, she gave me a break from OJ," said Clem as she spooned some stew into a bowl for Jet. "So I figured I'd make everyone lunch."

"Great, I'm starving." Jet sat down in a hurry and grabbed a spoon. As he dug into the stew, Clem noticed the cart he had been pushing was full of small books.

"Are these the guides you made to help anyone coming here?"

"Yeah," said Jet between bites as Clem grabbed one of the books. It was different from what she expected, being a smaller black leather case with a zipper running along the side. Written in silver marker on the cover were the words 'OUTBREAK SURVIVAL GUIDE'.

"I thought you were just going to write everything down in a notebook," said Clem as she studied the guide in her hands.

"I was, but then I found these cool little day planners and figured I'd use them instead. You could keep other stuff inside of them, and they're smaller than normal notebooks so they're easier to carry."

Flipping the guide over, Clem saw more words written on the back in silver. "Don't panic?"

"Oh, that's from a book I read. I thought it'd be funny to put that on the back, but it's good advice too," said Jet with a shrug as he got some apples out of the bowl. "I was just coming over here to put them out on the welcome table for… whoever comes here after we leave."

"I'll take care of it." Clem grabbed hold of the cart and pushed it towards the concessions counter. The large ads above it for foods they could no longer get had been covered with a banner they created. 'FOOD, WATER & MEDICINE AVAILABLE - SEE TABLE FOR MORE INFO' it read. It was one of many signs they had strung up across town in anticipation of other weary travelers reaching Tulsa after they left. Set up right in front of the concessions counter was a long wooden table, which Clem parked the cart in front of.

Already on the table were six radios, packs of unopened batteries, and simple instructions taped onto the wood itself: 'Tune to Channel 11 - Wait To Be Contacted - Help Will Arrive No Later Then 30 Days'. There was also the words 'SURVIVAL GUIDE' written in paint on the end of the table, which Clem began stacking Jet's guides in front of.

"I thought you were just going to make a few of these," said Clem as she offloaded the cart. "There's like two dozen books here."

"I was going to, but then I saw there were still printers at the Target, and Devlin said he had another one of those little diesel generators I could use, so I figured I'd use the printers to just make copies of the notes you and Sarah gave me instead."

Placing another stack of books on the table, Clem grabbed one and unzipped the case. Flipping the guide open, the left side had small, thin pouches, presumably for business cards, along with a pen clipped to it. The right side had a stack of small pages held in place by binder rings. Flipping through the pages, Clem was surprised that the words on them were typed. "These aren't copies of the notes Sarah made for you."

"Well I was going to make copies, but since I figured I'm already using a generator, I could plug my laptop in, type up everything you and Sarah wrote down, then just print it, that way it's easier to read. The tricky thing was getting the page size right for something that small."

Flipping through the pages, Clem was surprised at how many there were, as well as the dividers where the words 'FOOD', 'WATER', 'GUNS' and 'UNDEAD' had been carefully handwritten in different colored inks. Flipping to the tab labeled 'CONTENTS', Clem found herself reading off the page without thinking.

"The undead: behavior, tactics, infection; Food: scavenging, growing, foraging; Places; scouting, roads, major cities," she read out loud as she wandered back towards where Jet was sitting. "We didn't give you notes on anything but walkers and a little on looking for food."

"I was just going to print up your notes, but then I remembered some stuff you and the others told me, so I wrote that down too, then I started looking up stuff in the bookstore and found books on common diseases and some other stuff, and… Well, I guess it ended up a lot bigger than I planned."

Flipping through the pages, Clem was surprised how many words were on each one. Scrolling through the section on cities, she found herself reading out loud again.

"New Orleans served as base of the operations for the US Navy until it was likely evacuated sometime during the summer of… two A.O?"

"After outbreak; I figured with everything that's happened, we should just start counting years after that. I explained that and some other stuff in the introduction."

"While occupied, the city received electricity from the nuclear plant, Waterford Three," read Clem. "However, with the city now abandoned, the fate of this power plant is unknown, and is speculated by a former resident of a post-outbreak New Orleans it was either shut down, or even possibly melted down. If there was a meltdown, then it's possible the New Orleans area is irradiated now and should be avoided. For more about radiation and a map of other nuclear plants, please turn to page…"

Clem found herself turning to the page listed without thinking, finding herself landing on a lengthy explanation of what radiation was on her left, while a map of the United States with small icons marking the location of nuclear power plants was on her right. Studying them, she was disturbed to see marks along the east coast of Georgia and Florida, along with the words 'no simple cure for exposure to radiation' on the other page.

"How did you make this map?" asked Clem as she shut the book.

"I scanned it from a book I found in the bookstore," explained Jet as he poured more tea into his cup. "Then put it all together with a program on my laptop and printed it up. I did the same thing for an edible plants book. I scanned all the pictures and wrote shorter descriptions so I could fit it on just a few pages; did you know you could eat clovers?"

"Yeah I did actually," said Clem as she flipped through the guide. "When we lived in a cabin, Christa, OJ's mom, had a book about edible plants; clovers weren't so bad, but we couldn't find any once winter started and were stuck eating mushrooms instead; I hate mushrooms."

"I also updated a map with everything we know, and put it on the left side along with a pen, so people could fill in stuff as they moved around."

Clem turned to the left side and discovered another larger pouch behind the smaller ones and a page printed on a slip of cardboard card inserted into it. Pulling it out, she saw it was a map of the United States with hand written symbols and words for cities they had visited. Most of the symbols were X's, Houston had a circle around it, and off to the right side were the words 'Shaffer's' and 'Valkaria' with arrows pointing to certain parts of Georgia and Florida. At the bottom of the map in Jet's handwriting was 'See cities section for more information'.

"I can't believe you did all this," said Clem as she closed the book.

"It's all stuff other people knew or wrote down, I just put it together," dismissed Jet. "I probably spent more time hole-punching all the pages than anything else; there's no three hole punch for pages that small so I could only do one hole on a few pages at a time."

"This will really help anyone who comes here."

"If you say so," said Jet as he looked away.

"It will," insisted Clem. "I'm gonna keep one."

"Why?"

"Because, this is really useful," said Clem as she flipped through the pages. "I don't remember most of the plants we could eat from that book Christa had, but this has all their pictures right here, and a bunch of great stuff; you should be proud."

"Well…" The sound of footsteps approaching derailed the conversation as Clem watched the others file into the area. Now that everyone had watches it was rare for anyone to arrive late to a meal.

"Kem-men!" called Omid as Patty carried him to his high chair.

"Hey OJ," said Clem in her sweetest voice as he was placed next to her.

"Granddad, I finally finished the guide I was working on," said Jet as he picked up the one on the table. "You want to see it?"

Sin took the book. "Why did you use these for the guide?"

"Well they were smaller, so… so they're easier to carry," mumbled Jet. "Do you like it?"

Sin flipped through a few pages, stopping to read one for a few seconds before placing the book back on the table. "It's fine," he said before moving past Jet to take a seat.

"What's this?" asked Devlin as he looked at the brown, white, and pink chunks sitting on a plate.

"Freeze-dried ice cream," informed Jet.

"Oh hell, she put some out?" asked an eager Anthony.

"I don't remember seeing that in the store," said Sin.

"Cause it ain't from the store, Clem hordes it in that RV of their's," said Anthony as he grabbed a piece of chocolate ice cream.

"Does it actually taste like ice cream?" asked Devlin as he picked up a piece.

"Oh yeah." Clem watched everyone's faces light up as they sampled the freeze-dried treat.

"Holy hell," mumbled Devlin as he chewed.

"It's… very good," admitted Sin, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"Don't get used to it," said Anthony. "They only break that stuff out once in a blue moon for the rest of us."

"We're trying to make it last as long as we can," said Clem. "Because we don't know where we could get more, or that there even is any more left."

"Well then, a major thanks for sharing it with us then," spoke a gracious Devlin with a smile. "And for cooking us this tasty looking meal."

"That's the very least we deserve after today; just getting ready to start a farm is hungry work," griped Anthony as he spooned a heaping amount of stew into the nearest bowl. "We'd better get some damn good vegetables and stuff out of this. I mean, what are we planning on growing this year?"

"You'd need to ask Sarah," said Devlin. "She had me load a bit of everything into your camper, but I don't think she was planning on growing all that this year."

"Where is Sarah?" Clem stood up, expecting Sarah to be walking past the door as she spoke, but she wasn't there.

"She's probably still at the bookstore," said Anthony. "She practically lives there now."

"I'll go get her," said Clem as she stood up. "Patty, can you watch OJ?"

"Sure," said Patty as she spooned some stew out of her bowl. "You hungry little man?"

"Mah-bah!" said an excited Omid before opening his mouth.

Clem stood up and was about to head to the door, when she noticed Jet slumped over in his seat. "Why don't you come with me?"

"Huh?" said Jet as he sat up.

"You're done eating right? Why don't you come with me to get Sarah?"

"Um… sure. Why not?" Walking along with Jet, Clem waited until they were outside the store before leaning over to talk to him.

"I'm sorry," she said as they walked across the parking lot.

"For what?" asked a confused Jet.

"For your granddad not noticing how hard you worked on the guide," said Clem. "He barely looked at it."

"Oh that." Jet looked down at his feet as he moved. "It doesn't matter. It was just something I did to keep myself busy for a while, since I can't do much else."

"Don't say that."

"It's true. I can't carry nearly as much as Anthony and Devlin, Sarah's looking up stuff for the farm, Patty fixed the trucks, Granddad's figuring out how to build stuff we'll need. While I was spending all my time making guides that will probably never get used, everyone else was doing something that's actually important."

"I wasn't," reminded Clem. "I've mostly been watching OJ, and when I wasn't doing that I was just putting up stuff."

"You still cook a lot of our meals," noted Jet. "Look at how happy everyone was you had enough time to do it today. I can't do that."

"I couldn't either at first. I only got one lesson on how to cook and then I had to figure out everything else on my own. The stuff I cooked after we started living on our own was pretty bad for the first month, just ask Sarah."

"You mean the person who helped you when you had to save me and Granddad's lives?"

"I mean the person I almost got killed a bunch of times for being stupid." Clem turned around suddenly. "Jet, I know you feel like you're not useful because you haven't done as much dangerous stuff as me, but I never wanted to do any of this."

"Well, I know you don't want—"

"And for everything you think I've done right there's been a time when something did go wrong, and I almost got someone killed, or someone did get killed, or I killed… I mean…" Clem suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"I'm… I'm sorry," spoke Jet in a voice just louder than a whisper. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's… it's okay," stuttered Clem before taking a breath. "It's just… don't think you're weak because you find this bad stuff so hard, because I don't feel stronger for doing any of it… it just makes things harder."

"I'm sorry…" spoke a sympathetic Jet. "Is there anything I can to do to make things easier for you?"

"You already do," said Clem. "You watch OJ when we can't, and let us stay in your RV when ours was wrecked, and you care about us."

"Does just caring really help all that much?"

"Yes," stated Clem with no uncertainty.

"More than being able to fix stuff that breaks or help people if they get sick or fight off walkers, or worse?"

"Those are all things anyone can all learn, like Sarah and I did, and are still doing."

"Yeah, but can't anyone care about people too?"

"Most people don't, especially not now," stated Clem. "People who care are always better than ones who don't, because people who care make life better, and that's really important with things being so bad."

"I wish Granddad felt like that," said Jet. "He says my worrying doesn't help, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm not doing enough."

"Yeah, well, he's wrong." Clem started walking again. "Trust me, adults get stuff wrong all the time, they just don't like to admit it."

"Yeah, but I gotta live with this adult, so I can't just tell him that." Reaching the bookstore, Clem pushed past the entrance and headed for the small restaurant tucked into the corner of the store.

"Weren't you going to help Sarah with looking up stuff we need to know about for the farm?" asked Clem.

"I tried to help, but she was always way ahead of me. Anything I'd read she already read along with two other books on the same subject. It was like…"

A single lantern revealed a sprawling mess of open books, torn pages, and sloppily written notes that canvassed every surface in the restaurant, from the countertop to each table set out in front of it.

"It was like she was obsessed," finished Jet.

"Do we really need all these books just for a farm?" Approaching the counter, Clem noticed there were binders, not books, perched on it. Looking at the nearest one, Clem could read something written on the front in marker. "Onions?" Clem placed her hand on the cover.

"Don't touch anything!" Sarah came rushing out of nowhere and slammed her hand onto the binder. "Please, I'm still working on them."

"On what?" asked Jet as he eyed the binders lined up across the counter. "Are each of these really for only one plant each?"

"Yeah, they are." Sarah dropped some books onto a pile of different books, then immediately started flipping through the book sitting on top of the stack. Clem was surprised when Sarah ripped out a page and then grabbed one of her binders.

"So, you're making your own books for different plants?" realized Jet.

"Pretty much," said Sarah as she flipped the binder open. "It's taking forever though."

"Then why do it?" asked Clem as she watched Sarah stick the page into the binder, merely pushing it through the open rings until they tore small holes through the paper. "Isn't there just one book that tells us everything we need to know?"

"Not really, at least not in this place," said Sarah with a hint of irritation. "One book may talk about what kind of soil a plant likes, and another what kind of pests eat it, and then another book tells you how to get rid of pests and another for how to get seeds, and…" Sarah groaned. "It's such a pain."

"Well, we just came over to tell you I made lunch," said Clem.

"Beef stew. It's really good, like everything Clem cooks," said Jet.

"I'll be by in a few minutes. I need to finish up with this, then double check everything in the Brave and—"

"I said I'd do inventory for the Brave. Here, I got the list right—"

Sarah snatched the notepad away from Clem the second it left her pocket. "I thought we had more bullets than this," said Sarah.

"We gave a few boxes to Sin and Anthony after the flood, then used up a lot more getting here," reminded Clem.

"I know, I know, but Devlin said Tulsa still had—"

"Most of the bullets he gave us don't go to our guns, and the ones that did we had to split with the others."

Sarah flipped the page and continued to pour through everything Clem had written. "We don't have enough diesel," said Sarah, her voice cracking. "I was checking the atlas last night, and the Osage Reservation is like eighty miles across. We might run out and—"

"Sarah," said Clem, raising her voice slightly. "It's okay. We'll get some diesel and—"

"It's just we're so far behind," lamented Sarah. "It's already March and we haven't even left yet."

"It'll be okay, we'll… wait, it's March?"

"Yeah, today is the first day of March. So…"

Clem and Sarah both went wide-eyed at the same time.

"What?" asked a confused Jet. "What's so special about the first of March?"

"It's OJ's birthday," answered a dismayed Clem.

"His first birthday," added Sarah. "And we forgot!"

"I can't believe this."

"It's my fault. I was so busy with this I didn't even realize it."

"No it's my fault. I had almost nothing to do and I still forgot his first birthday."

"Hey!" The pair turned to Jet. "There's still time, it's only the middle of the day."

With that, Sarah took one last look at her binders of torn pages, then left the bookstore with Clem and Jet. The trio hastily returned to Sam's Club where everyone was finishing up their meals.

"Sah-duh!" said Omid, spewing a few pieces of stew as he talked.

"Hey Omid. I'm sorry I've been gone so long," said Sarah as she quickly sat down in front of the boy. "I'm so sorry that…" Sarah stopped talking and let out a deep sigh.

"What's wrong?" asked Patty.

"It's OJ's birthday today," explained Clem as she sat down.

"Really, that's—"

"And we forgot about it until just now," added Sarah.

"Oh…" said Patty as her smile quickly disappeared.

There was an awkward silence as Sarah used a napkin to clean Omid's face. "Sah-dah," he said with a smile. "Kem-men."

"We need to do something for him," concluded Clem. "Like a party."

"Why?"

"Anthony," scolded Patty.

"What? He's a baby," said Anthony. "He's not going to remember it; do any of you remember being one year old? I don't."

"He has a point," said Sin. "A party would probably be lost on him. At that age, parties are really for the child's parents and their friends."

"Exactly," said Jet as he approached his grandfather. "This is really important to Clem and Sarah, and we should do something for them."

"I understand that," said Sin. "But—"

"I'm up for a party," announced Anthony.

"You just said—"

"I said he wouldn't remember a party. I'd remember us having one."

"We've got work to do," argued Sin.

"We've been working our asses off," said Patty.

"And we're almost done," said Anthony. "We were talking about leaving today before you people figured out some more last minute stuff to do."

"There's more work still once we start the farm," reminded Sin.

"All the more reason to take a break now," argued Patty. "Before we got a bunch of crops we got to worry about."

"Come on Granddad," urged Jet. "The day is already half-over; why not enjoy ourselves?"

"Doing what?" challenged Sin. "Anything we could do to celebrate are the kind of things we could any day, and anywhere, so why is it so important we celebrate today? Why not wait until after the move, where we can plan our a proper party then? It's not like there are any amusement parks left open in Tulsa we'll be leaving behind."

"Actually," said Devlin. "There might still be one left."

"Really?" asked Sarah.

"Tulsa used to have a big fair at the end of every September," explained Devlin. "We had moved it up a little earlier in the month to avoid the cold, and we're getting ready to celebrate this year when… OKC attacked."

"There's actually an amusement park left somewhere in Tulsa?" asked a skeptical Sin.

"The closest thing to anymore," said Devlin. "Would be nice to spend some time there before we leave Tulsa behind."

"Be nice just to not spend the rest of the day playing Tetris in a semi-trailer with big ass barrels and heavy bags of cement," added Anthony.

"You want to have some fun on your birthday, right OJ?" asked Clem. "Fun?"

"Fud! Fud!" chanted Omid as he clapped his hands.

"Come on Granddad," prodded Jet.

"Well, some rest before we leave would probably be helpful," admitted Sin. "I suppose I could stay in the RV and read if nothing else."

"You do that, the rest of will be living it up," said Patty before she turned to Devlin. "Lead the way."

Finishing up their meals, the group returned to their vehicles and, for the first time since arriving here, left the shopping center behind. Devlin rode with Anthony, leading the others down the interstate. Clem watched from the windows as they retraced their path through the stacks upon stacks of bodies they had left in their wake when they had fought their way to this oasis a month ago.

Eventually, they drove past the bridge that returned them to East Tulsa and started moving north. Clem saw the Citadel come and go, and then they kept moving north for a while before turning east. She watched as they drove past one empty neighborhood after another, each riddled with clear signs of being abandoned; broken windows, flung open doors, and crude graves in most of the yards.

Sarah had said Tulsa's population had been over four-hundred thousand before the outbreak, but the scale of that had never fully dawned on Clementine. Even now, the seemingly never-ending stream of empty houses they were driving past represented only a very tiny fraction of this city's former population, which represented an even smaller fraction of the world itself. The longer Clem stared at them, the more she couldn't help but think the houses looked like graves, which would make Tulsa a graveyard.

"This has gotta be it." Patty's words snapped Clem out of her trance.

"You ready to have some fun?" asked Sarah.

"Fud!" said Omid as Clem looked out the windshield. The sprawling neighborhoods were finally receding and coming up on their left was a massive parking lot full of rides, carnival games, and colorful decorations as far as Clem could see.

"By the time we got the dam running, we had cleared out this side of the river and it was nearly time for the city's fair," explained Devlin. "After some discussion, we agreed to keep the tradition going into the outbreak, and worked with a couple of people who used to own a company that did fairs and carnivals. Once we moved the stuff out to the fairgrounds, we just left it there for next year, even turned it back on for a Christmas bash."

"But without electricity, none of the rides will work," said Sin.

"I know," said Devlin. "But there's enough stuff here that doesn't use electricity to keep us busy for at least an afternoon."

Clem watched as the RV slowed to a stop in front of a long building that blocked her view of the parking lot. Standing watch outside was a thirty-foot tall statue of a man with a hat. He was striking a heroic pose, with his chest sticking out, one of his hands on his hip and the other resting on a tower made of black metal. Looking closer, Clem also saw the word 'TULSA' written in big letters across his belt buckle.

"Who the hell is that supposed to be?" asked Patty into her radio.

"I have no idea, but we didn't come here for him," said Devlin. "Me, Anthony, Sin, and Jet can circle the area, make sure it's still clear. East Tulsa has been empty for a long time, and there were no infected left when we started setting up this year's fair, but we should double check to be safe.

"Patty, you should park the girls outside the water park, just drive forward a bit until you find the spot we left empty. The water park has more fences than other parts of the fairgrounds, so I doubt any infected managed to wander in, but be careful."

"Got it," said Patty.

"Everyone stay alert and keep your radios on, at least until we secure the area. After that, we can kick back for a while, enjoy what'll probably be our last night in Tulsa, at least for a while."

The Sunseeker and Anthony's truck sped on ahead while Patty crept the Brave forward at a modest pace. Moving past the building and the carnival games bordering it, Clem spotted an empty space in the parking lot which Patty immediately pulled them into.

"All right, I'll go first, make sure everything is good," said Patty as she wrapped her scarf tightly around her face. "Then I'll buzz you on the radio."

"Okay, that'll give us time to put on Omid's winter clothes," said Sarah. "Come on Clem."

The pair navigated past the various things cluttering the center of the Brave and returned to the bedroom, where they began the long process of trying to dress Omid in more than a shirt or a jumper. He'd kick off shoes, yank off gloves, and throw off any hat placed on his head

"Come on OJ," said Clem as she fought to thread the boy's arm through a jacket's sleeve. "It's—"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Omid no!" scolded Sarah as she struggled to tie his shoe through the constant kicking. "If it were just a little warmer we could skip this."

After a lot of setbacks, the girls finally got Omid to accept his winter attire, at least for the moment. The girls armed themselves with guns and noisemakers as a precaution, but skipped the raincoats so as not to upset Omid. Stepping out into the parking lot, Clem tightened her jacket as the wind gave her a slight shiver. The pair briefly surveyed the area, finding it eerily quiet, then radioed the others to see if there was anything wrong.

As they waited for a response, Clem looked over at the attractions in the adjacent parking lot and spotted what appeared to be a dunking booth. She grimaced as she saw its tank was full of dirty water and its glass caked in a layer of thick algae. Looking past it at what appeared to be a simple game of ring toss, it dawned on Clem that without any people to run the games, there was little point in playing any of them. As she pondered what they could even do at this 'fair', she heard the familiar click of the radio.

"We're just about done with our sweep of the north side and we're going to start moving back towards you," confirmed Devlin. "So far everything looks good."

"Clem, Sarah, I'm about done with the water park if you want to check it out," added Patty. "There's a pretty killer slide not far from the entrance you could take Omid on."

Looking down at Omid, he seemed intrigued by his surroundings, but not awestruck like he had been in the past when he was outside. Clem briefly wondered if there was any fun to be had here for him, or for themselves. Each taking one of his hands, the girls walked with Omid until they reached a black metal gate that led to a simple dirt trail surrounded by trees on one side and a long iron fence on the other.

Walking along the path, Clem noted it was quiet out, like it usually was in Tulsa, but much colder than normal. The barren trees casting their twisted shadows out over the dead grass that canvassed the area just added to the sense of desolation. This place was probably full of life not that long ago, but now was just another mausoleum in this city-sized cemetery. It felt so prevalent that Clem barely noticed the small wooden shack with a green slide sticking out of just past the trees.

"Is the birthday boy ready to play on the slide?" asked Sarah in a chipper voice. "Ready to have fun?"

"Fud," repeated Omid.

"Go ahead and climb up, and I'll pass Omid up to you."

"Okay."

Clem climbed the incredibly short ladder to the small wooden playhouse, then turned around. Sarah carefully handed Omid to Clem, who carried him over to the edge of the plastic slide. Clem didn't think it looked all that great herself, but for Omid it was probably good enough. "Okay, get ready." Clem positioned Omid at the top of the slide while Sarah took up position at the bottom. "Here we go!" Clem gave Omid a gentle push and the boy squealed in delight the short distance down the slide and into Sarah's arms.

"Do you want to go again?" asked Sarah as she picked up the boy.

"Ah-din!" cheered Omid.

"All right, we'll…" Sarah stopped suddenly as she turned around.

"Sarah?" Clem slid down the slide and stood up. "What is…"

Just a bit ahead was a concrete path, and just past that a pool. Instead of water, it was filled with something much more colorful, but what exactly Clem couldn't tell from where she was standing. Looking for a better angle, she spotted a set of wooden stairs that led up towards some bigger slides. Clem raced up the steps, with Sarah carrying Omid right behind her. At the top of the stairs, Clem discovered the entire pool was full of plastic balls.

"Whoa," said Clem.

"This must be the slide Patty mentioned," realized Sarah.

Looking over at the pink and green slides next to her, Clem had to resist the urge to plunge headfirst into the world's biggest ball pit and picked up her radio instead.

"Devlin," called Clem. "Are these slides at the waterpark leading into a big ball pit safe?"

"The ones with the ball pit? Yeah. The others were too big to use safely without water, but that one has gym mats at the bottom under the balls, so you shouldn't hurt yourself," reported Devlin. "But double check to make sure an infected didn't wander into it before jumping into it yourself."

"Got it." Clem hurried back down the steps and over to the edge of the pool. She began rattling her noisemaker like crazy, looking for even the slightest movements, then would move to a different spot and do it. The pit remained still the entire time, there was no noise other than the noise Clem was making, and she couldn't smell even a whiff of pungent walker aroma in the air. Satisfied, Clem hurried back up the steps and hopped into a slide while Sarah sat down in the other one.

"Let me hold OJ," insisted Clem as Sarah tightened her grip on the baby.

"No way, you got to hold him on the last slide," said Sarah.

"The crappy little one, and only at the top," argued Clem. "This is a big slide into a ball pit, I want to do it with OJ."

"You can hold him next time," insisted Sarah.

"Paper, rock, scissors for this time," said Clem as she balled her hand into a fist.

"Fine. Three, two, one!" Sarah threw paper; Clem threw scissors.

"Yes! Come here OJ." Sarah grimaced, but passed the boy over to Clem.

"Kem-men," he said as he smiled at her.

"Oh yeah, this is going to be fun."

"Fud!"

Clem took a breath, then pushed off against the back wall. The sudden pull of the slide caused her to let out a startled yell as she felt herself flying down the pink plastic chute. She was laughing so hard her chest hurt and yet she couldn't even hear herself over Omid's squealing. Clem suddenly felt gravity yanking her and Omid downward and everything suddenly became a haze of multicolored plastic before landing on something soft and lumpy. Taking a second to catch her breath, Clem felt Omid suddenly pull free from her grip.

"OJ? Where are you?" Clem could hear him laughing nearby, but couldn't see him through the pond of plastic balls. "I'm gonna find you!"

"Not if I find him first!" Clem heard Sarah say from somewhere to her right. As Clem honed in on the sounds of a baby laughing, she found her foot brushing past something heavy. Reaching down, she found discovered something soft squirming against her gloves and grabbed it tightly.

"Got you!" said Clem as she jumped to her feet, sending balls flying as she poked her head past the surface.

"Got what?" Clem looked over to find Sarah next to her, neck deep in the same ball pit.

"I got…" Clem watched in disbelief as Sarah lifted a giggling Omid out of the ball pit. Raising her own arms, Clem discovered a pair of black eyes attached to a furry head staring directly at her. "Ah!"

Clem tossed the thing away and then waded towards the edge of the pool as fast as she could.

"What… what was that?" asked a startled Sarah as Clem climbed out.

"I don't know, some animal." Clem spun around and helped Sarah and Omid out of the pool, then drew her gun. Scanning the immediate area for threats, Clem spotted a furry animal lying on its back just a few feet away from where they were standing. Taking a step forward, she saw that it was about the size of a cat with gray fur, but had a long stringy tail like a rodent.

"It's… it's a possum," realized Sarah as she set Omid down.

"Are you sure?" asked Clem as she lowered her gun.

"No, but, I don't know what else it could be except a possum."

"Pah-sah," said Omid as he tried to move closer to it.

"Oh no, you're not touching a dead animal.” Clem holstered her gun and grabbed hold of Omid.

"What's going on?" Clem looked over her shoulder to see Patty rushing towards them, shotgun at the ready. "I was on my way back when I heard a scream."

"It's okay, I just found a dead possum at the bottom of the pool."

"Doh-bree-pah-sah!" begged Omid.

"Yeah, it's right—" Clem turned around to discover the possum was gone.

"Pah-sah!" Letting go of Omid, Clem watched as he started walking as fast as his short legs could carry him towards some trees, where she briefly spotted something scurrying away.

"What the hell?" asked Clem.

"It must not have been dead," concluded Sarah.

"It looked dead," said Clem.

"Maybe it was faking?"

"Why would it do that?"

"Because it was a possum?" suggested Patty. "I mean, that's where we get the expression, playing possum… I assume."

"Pah-sah!" Clem hurried over to Omid and took hold of them. "Pah-sah!" he repeated as she lifted him into the air.

"That's enough," said Clem.

"Pah-sah!" repeated Omid, sounding upset now.

"Come on OJ, it's just an animal."

"He never sees animals," realized Sarah. "I mean, other than that cat in Valkaria, the only thing he ever sees alive is us."

"I saw some big birds over by this empty pool," announced Patty. "Maybe the little man would like to see them."

"Come on OJ," said Clem. "Let's go look at the birds instead."

Omid protested being taken away from the possum, but eventually relented as he was carried further into the water park. Following Patty, they passed by a playground that had sprinklers built into the pavement. Clem couldn't help thinking what a shame it was they couldn't have brought Omid here before the outbreak, or when it was warm. Following Patty to the edge of a mostly drained tidal pool, Clem was surprised as she looked down the concrete slope and found an entire flock of large, web-footed birds idling about in the shallow water at the bottom.

"Wow," awed Clementine.

"Yeah, I made sure to go around them so I didn't scare them off."

"Pah-sah! Pah-sah!" cried Omid as Clem set him down.

"Birds," said Sarah as she knelt down to look at Omid. "Can you say buh-erds?"

"Buh-ber."

"Canadian geese to be precise." Clem looked over to see Devlin walking up to meet them.

"Buh-ber." Omid started walking down the gentle slope, with Clem and Sarah following close behind him.

"Residents said they usually didn't come this far into town before the outbreak." Clem heard Devlin say. "But I guess with both the living and the dead gone now, there isn't anything stopping them."

Clem watched as Omid stopped to look at a lone goose standing away from the rest of the flock. She smiled as she noticed a sense of awe gripping the boy's chubby face as he stared up at the regal long-necked bird just ahead of them. Even Clem was a little surprised by how big the goose was the closer they got to it, realizing its head probably came up to her chest.

"That one's the lookout," said Devlin in a whisper as he approached the group from behind. "If he sees anything that looks like bad news he'll warn the others."

"Huh, sorta like we do," realized Clem.

"Cept they probably spend less time arguing about it," said Patty.

"I just wish I had brought our camera," whispered Sarah.

"Buh-ber." A curious Omid waddled towards the lone goose while Sarah and Clem followed behind him as quietly as they could. As they neared the goose, it suddenly turned its head and looked right at the Omid.

"Buh-ber!"

The goose let out a violent honk and snapped its neck forward, prompting Omid to scream and stumble backwards into Sarah's arms while the ornery fowl reared its wings back and stuck out its chest.

"Hey!" Clem stepped in front of the goose and it immediately hopped backwards. Before Clem could make another move, the goose spun around and took off into the air, honking loudly as it flew. The rest of the flock nesting at the bottom of the tidal pool suddenly spread their wings and started darting into the air, creating a cacophony of flapping wings and loud honks as they temporarily blanketed the sky right above the group.

"It's okay now, it's gone," said Sarah as she cradled a frightened Omid. "Look, see, they're flying away."

Omid let go of Sarah and looked up in time to see the flock of geese flying overhead.

"Buh-ber." Clem watched as Omid stretched up his hands towards the sky and tried in vain to grab the distant flying animals, only to pull back nothing.

"I think that's enough birds for now," said Sarah as she picked Omid up.

"I probably should have warned you they're pretty territorial," realized Devlin.

"Why are you here?" asked Patty. "Is anything wrong?"

"Nah, I just wanted to tell you everything looks all clear," said Devlin. "Figured I'd come by in person to let you know there's still a bunch of playground stuff on the main fairground that doesn't need electricity, and you can take all the prizes you want from the games too if you want. Jet and Sin were going to check out the mini-golf course in the back. I'll be at the stadium on the corner, settling something with Anthony."

"Settling what?" asked Clem.

"Just a little personal bet we made."

"I spotted a dirt track with some go-karts next to this place," noted Patty.

"They don't work, at least not anymore,” said Devlin. “We were going to fix them, but, you know.”

"Still, I think you'll enjoy yourselves. Most of the buildings in the middle were going to be used for activities we had planned for the residents, like the swap meet, so there's not much there. But you could check out the Pavillon, it's the fancy building that stands out from all the others. The Tulsa Fair used to do art exhibits, so we worked with some of more creative residents to set up a new one in the fairground's old arena… shame we never got to finish it."

"Thanks Devlin," said Clem.

"You kids have fun, especially you buddy." Devlin smirked at Omid, then started walking away.

"So, where to next?" Patty asked the others.

"Back to the Brave," stated Sarah.

"What?" asked Clem. "Why?"

"Omid needs… changing."

"Oh."

"That goose literally scared the shit out of him," chuckled Patty. "Come on, I'll walk you two back."

The group headed back and Sarah hurried inside to change Omid. Before Clem could follow her, she felt Patty tugging on her shoulder.

"I bet I could get one of them running," she said.

"You mean one of the go-karts?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, there were like a dozen of them," said Patty as she removed a toolbox from one of the Brave's exterior compartments. "We only need to get lucky on one. Let's give it a try."

"Right, let me just tell Sarah where I'm going." Clem stuck her head past the door. "Sarah, me and Patty will be at the go-kart track!"

"Okay!" Sarah yelled back from inside, prompting Clem to go racing after Patty, who Clem spotted disappearing behind the Brave.

"Wait up, I don't… whoa."

"You didn't think we were walking there, did ya?" Clem watched as Patty removed a black bike from the Brave's back-mounted bike rack. "Seriously, you didn't notice this until just now?"

"No," said Clem as she stared at the rack in disbelief. "How did you even have time to put this on?"

"I lucked up, got Omid down for a nap after you left this morning."

"This is awesome." Clem carefully removed her own bike from the rack. As she put her helmet on, she noticed Patty's bike had pouches mounted on each side of it. "Where did you get those?"

"Found them at the Target," said Patty as she slipped her toolbox into one of the saddlebags. "We can get some for yours when we get back."

"Definitely," said Clem as she mounted her bike. "Where's the go-kart track?"

"The dirt path past the gate wraps around the edge of the waterpark and leads right to track," instructed Patty as she put a helmet on. "Can't miss it."

"Race ya!" Clem took off towards the entrance of the water park before Patty could even get on her bike. She was pedaling so fast she barely noticed the massive cluster of colorful and twisty slides towering over her until she had nearly zoomed past them. Looking back, Clem found herself a little sad they'd probably never be used again, but looking ahead, she saw she was about to crash into a fence.

"Whoa!" Clem skidded to a sudden stop and managed to avoid a head-on collision with a gate. Catching her breath, she spotted a wide dirt road just past the chainlink.

"You rotten little cheater," chuckled Patty as she came to a sudden stop in front of the fence.

"I won," claimed Clem.

"Yeah, cause you cheated," smirked Patty as she got off her bike. "You'd never beat me in a fair race."

"Wanna bet?" challenged Clem.

"Oh, we're betting now," said Patty as she made her way to the gate. "What do you want to bet me?"

"I… don't know," realized Clem. "I really don't have anything, or at least anything I wouldn't already give you."

"How about whoever gets to the go-karts first gets to ride one first?" proposed Patty as she opened the gate.

"Sounds good," said Clem as Patty returned to her bike. "Where are they?"

"They're…" Patty took off pedaling.

"Hey!" Clem went chasing after the woman as fast as she could, but it was no use. Even without a head start, Patty still would have beaten her, and all Clem could do was follow from behind, far behind. Patty quickly veered off the dirt and disappeared into the asphalt parking lot nestled in the center of the race track. As Clem reached the lot herself, she spotted several small tents in the distance, many of which had been blown over. Closing in on those, she discovered over a dozen tiny race cars with faded paint jobs parked by the tents, and one familiar looking mechanic parked by the karts.

"Look who's finally here," said Patty as Clem rolled up to the collection of go-karts.

"You cheated," accused Clem.

"You first," reminded Patty with a smile. "And besides, if I bring one of these suckers back to life, I want to be the first one try it out. It might be a poor substitute for a motorcycle, but at least I'll get to drive something with a sense of speed again."

"You drive the Brave all the time," reminded Clem.

"That's different. It's a big ass vehicle that's completely enclosed, you can't feel how fast you're going in something like that. But something smaller like this, where there's no windshield; you can feel it."

"Like the first time I rode on your motorcycle," realized Clem. "It felt kind of like I was flying."

"Exactly," said Patty with a smirk as she removed the toolbox from the back of the bike. "Why don't you go take a lap while I get one of these damn things running? Get in a little practice with a dirt track on your bike before we move out to the country?"

"Okay." Clem pedaled back to the dirt track, riding along at a brisk pace as she examined her surrounding. She saw little of interest beyond some very tall bleachers in the distance that likely belonged to stadium Devlin mentioned. Every now and then she could hear the sound of an engine trying to start, but it usually went silent before long.

After circling the track a couple of times, Clem stopped to talk to Sarah over the radio. She said she was showing Omid all the games and rides at the fair, and that even though they didn't work, he was thrilled to just look at most of them. Clem was about to ride back to the fair to join her when she heard another engine start, but this time it didn't shut off right afterwards.

Riding back towards the parking lot, Clem watched as a green go-kart burst on the track with incredible speed before racing off into the distance. The kart charged down the straightaway like a horse out of the gate, skidded through a hairpin turn, zipped right through the next straightaway, past the next turn, and came barreling right back towards Clem herself. Clem was just about to run out of the way when the cart skidded to a sudden stop about twenty feet from where she was standing.

"Oh yeah!" As the dust settled, Clem could see Patty slowly climbing out of the kart, an odd smile on her face and an intense look in her eyes. "I really missed that."

"You got it to work," said Clem as she approached the kart. "That looked like a lot of fun."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Patty stepped aside, leaving nothing between Clem and the go-kart.

"Me? But you only rode it for one lap. That's not really a whole turn."

"Eh, I got to drive stuff better than this for a pretty long time," reasoned Patty with a shrug. "You've got a lot making up for lost time to do."

Clem deployed the kickstand on her bike, then raced towards the still idling go-kart. She scrambled into the driver's seat only to discover her feet didn't quite reach the pedals.

"Hang on," Patty reached behind Clem, then she felt the seat sliding forward. "All right; brake, gas, steering wheel. Got it?"

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Don't crash." Patty picked up Clem's bike and moved it out of the way, leaving her with just a long stretch of dirt road and the two hundred pounds of metal she was sitting in that was just waiting for her command. Gripping the steering wheel, Clem could feel it vibrating in her hands. She pushed down on the gas pedal and the kart shot forward so quickly it startled her. After quickly slamming on the brake and coming to a sudden a stop, Clem could see Patty off to the side, waving her on.

Clem mashed down the gas pedal and the kart shot forward with such speed it felt like Clem had been slammed against the seat. She let go of the pedal but didn't hit the brakes this time. Even without the gas, she was rolling forward with incredible speed towards a turn. Clem jerked the wheel to the left and the vehicle just as hastily swerved to the left with her, nearly pointing Clem at the opposite wall.

She quickly turned the wheel back the other way long enough to correct herself, then pulled it closer to the center. With a little practice, she was able to wrangle the kart into turning the corner. With some gentle taps on the gas pedal, Clem was able to maintain enough speed to escape the hairpin. With the wheel centered and another long straightaway in front of her, Clem mashed the gas again. Another sudden jolt of force shoved her against the seat, but she was ready for it this time.

The engine was roaring in her ears, the smell of gasoline singed her nostrils, and the cold wind was practically scratching at her face, but Clem couldn't be happier. The sense of speed she felt was addicting, and her heart beat faster and faster the further she drove. After going through the hairpin turns a couple of times, she discovered she didn't even need to slow down to make it through them, so she didn't anymore.

The track was the only thing she could see as everything else melted into a sprawling blur, and more now than ever on her bike or Patty's motorcycle, Clem felt like she was flying. She could almost feel the vehicle pulling off the ground and if she could just push the gas pedal a little harder, go just a little bit faster, she might take off into the sky itself. What happened instead was there was a loud pop and the engine suddenly went dead. Clem tried the pedal, but it did nothing, and she eventually rolled to a stop.

"Hey!" Clem turned her head to see Patty rushing up behind her on a bike. "Was starting to think you were never going to stop."

"I don't think I would have if the kart hadn't," admitted Clem as she placed her trembling hand on the side of the vehicle. "That was… amazing," spoke a woozy Clem as she tried to stand up.

"Wasn't it?"

"It… it felt like… like…"

"You were free?"

"Yeah, I guess it did," realized Clem. "It was suddenly like I could go anywhere, even though I didn't leave this track."

"Felt the same way the first time I drove my motorcycle," said Patty with a warm smile. "Felt like I could go everywhere, even though I was really just annoying everyone on the block by revving the engine so much."

"It was different from when I rode on your bike. This was—"

"This time you were in the driver's seat," finished Patty. "That makes a big difference."

"Yeah," said Clem.

"Imagine if you were riding a motorcycle instead of just a little go-kart."

Clem did imagine riding her own motorcycle instead of just a go-kart, and out on the open road instead of on a track, and she liked what she saw in her head. "Do you think I can get a motorcycle someday?" she suddenly blurted out. "I mean, when I get older."

"Well, I'm sure we could find one, but…"

"But?"

"Motorcycles run on gas."

"All of them?"

"All the ones I know of. I mean there might be some diesel ones out there, but diesel engines are usually better at hauling things than speed, people typically don't put them in motorcycles."

"Or go-karts?" asked Clem as she looked at her now motionless joy ride.

"Yeah, typically small things that go fast usually use gas."

Clem sighed.

"Hey, buck up, maybe we'll find a motorcycle that runs on diesel. Or maybe we'll get a gas one to work for a little while. I mean, I got this thing to run."

"Until I broke it," said Clem.

"It's probably just out of gas or something. I'll fix it… again," assured Patty as she grabbed her toolbox off her bike. "Why don't you go check in with Devlin and Anthony real quick, seeing as we're already right next to the stadium."

Clem hadn't even realized it until just now, but the kart had stalled right outside the bleachers she spotted earlier.

"Go head, I'll stay here and play Bicycle Repair Man."

"Play what?" asked Clem.

"You know, Bicycle Repair Man, cept I'm repairing a go-kart instead of a bike, and I'm a woman instead of a man…" Clem just stared at Patty in confusion. "You know what, forget I said that. Why don't you go see if Anthony or Devlin want a turn in the go-kart?"

"Sure."

Clem left her helmet with the kart, then headed for the stadium. She found a large opening in the track's outer wall which led her onto a paved road running along the sports arena. Following it towards the street, Clem spotted a small path past the edge of the stands that took her inside. If not for the rows upon rows of seats surrounding the area, Clem would assume she was just walking across a dirt lot full of dead weeds instead of a stadium.

Looking off in the distance, she could see a couple of figures near the center of the stands. As she approached them, she heard a faint cracking sound before something small went flying into the air. Following the object with her eyes, Clem watched as a baseball landed a little further down the field from where she was standing. Running over to get a better look, she noticed several more lying on the dirt in roughly the same area.

Another crack sounded and Clem saw a second ball go flying into the air, prompting her to hurry downfield before one landed on her head. As she neared the infield, Clem could see Anthony standing on what remained of the pitcher's mound, along with a bucket of baseballs by his feet. Beyond him was Devlin at home plate, a bat tightly clutched in his hands. Anthony pitched the ball and Devlin swung with such speed Clem barely saw the bat move before there was another loud crack.

"That's twelve to twelve," Clem heard Devlin yell in uncharacteristically jovial voice. "This one is going to make thirteen and break the tie."

"Only if you hit it!" yelled Anthony as he grabbed another baseball. "This is your last ball, so if you miss it, that means another rematch."

"Not a chance!" boasted an excited Devlin.

Clem watched as Anthony arched his hand behind his back, then snapped it forward. The ball came flying out of the man's grip and went screaming towards Devlin at an odd angle. Before Clem knew it, there was a loud crack and the ball went flying high into the air. She followed it with her eyes as long as she could before it finally disappeared behind the scoreboard.

"God dammit!" swore Anthony as he tossed his glove onto the dirt.

"When we organized teams to play here during the fair, do you know who was first pick two years in a row?" Anthony glared at Devlin in response. "Come on, don't look at me like that. If you had been here then, you probably would have been a top tier pick yourself."

"Lucky me," griped Anthony.

"Well looky here, we got an audience," said Devlin as Clem walked across the infield. "Did you catch the exciting ending?"

"Yeah," she said as she moved towards Devlin. "What was it?"

"Just a little batting practice. Me and Anthony were seeing who could hit the ball more times, and I just won, again."

"Yeah, and I'm just leaving," grumbled Anthony as he wandered off the pitcher's mound.

"Hang on, Clementine here might want to try her luck," said Devlin. "How about it?"

"I don't know, I—"

"We keep some smaller bats for the kids' teams. Just give it a few swings." Devlin turned to Anthony, who was walking away. "Come on man, don't you want Clem to have a challenge? You gotta be the pitcher, you know I can't pitch for shit." Anthony stopped in place, then started walking back towards the mound. "If I could, he never would've gotten a single hit." Clem giggled at what Devlin whispered. "You want to give it a shot, right? You're already wearing a baseball hat."

"Umm… sure. Why not?" Clem located a large variety of bats and other equipment scattered across the dugout's floor. After fishing out a bat that felt good in her hands, she went running back to home plate where Devlin was waiting.

"All right, that's what I like to see," said Devlin. "You ever play baseball before?"

"I played tee-ball one summer," said Clem.

"Were you any good?"

"No."

"Well, we're changing that right now, bend your arm." Clem followed Devlin's instructions as he changed her stance and showed her how to grip the bat properly. It was a lot to take in so quickly, but Devlin had a way of explaining it that kept it simple. "All right, here we go. Keep your eye on the ball and swing."

"Got it."

"All right Anthony, whenever you're ready."

Clem watched as Anthony flashed a wicked smile before throwing back his arm. Clem could barely see the ball before it had nearly reached her. She dropped the bat and instinctively darted out of the way.

"Hey, hey now," said Devlin in a calm voice. "You can't be afraid of it."

"Sorry," said Clem as she came back to the plate.

"Strike one," called Anthony.

"You want to take it a little easier on her?" suggested Devlin as he tossed the ball back. "She's only… how old are you?"

"Ten," said Clem as she picked up her bat.

"No promises," said Anthony as he caught the ball.

"All right, top arm bent, keep your back foot on its toe so you can pivot, and don't be afraid of it."

"I'll try," said Clem.

"All right Anthony, shoot."

Clem tightened her grip on the bat and observed Anthony carefully. He had that familiar smug smile on his face she wanted to just slap off him. The pitch came suddenly and Clem swung her bat, but hit nothing but air.

"Strike two."

"You gotta keep your eye on it," said Devlin as he tossed the ball back. "Just shut out everything else until that ball is the only thing left in the world, then glue your eyes to it. Wherever it goes, your eyes go."

"Okay, but when do I swing?" asked Clem.

"If you focus on the ball hard enough you'll just know when to swing," instructed Devlin. "You got only a split-second so there's no time to think. If you think about it then you're over thinking it and you'll miss. So don't think, just act."

Clem gripped her bat and turned to Anthony. He still had that annoying look, but she forced herself to ignore it and instead stared at the ball in his hand. He tossed it up and down a few times, and Clem followed along with her eyes. Even when Anthony bent his arm behind his back, Clem's eye tracked where she thought the ball was. That sudden snap of his hand didn't seem so sudden this time, and Clem found herself just watching the ball grow bigger until a sudden sense of urgency compelled her arms to move.

"Shit!" Anthony dove to grab the ball as it bounced across the ground. He slid across the dirt but the ball bounced right over his glove, prompting Anthony to groan as he rolled onto his back in frustration.

"There you go now, that was a solid hit!" Clem felt a firm slap on her back as she watched Anthony just lay in the dirt in defeat. "If there were anyone up in those stands, they'd all be screaming for you to hurry to first base right now. Just picture it; roaring crowd, lights on you, and running as fast as you can."

"That would be pretty cool," said Clem as looked up at bleachers, trying to picture that many people all looking at her.

"That was always my dream." Clem turned back to Devlin, noticing a hint of sadness on his face now. "I always wanted to in the major leagues, ever since I was a little boy, but it never happened."

"Why not?"

"Eh, just not major league material. I was a good hitter, but that was it. I never got noticed by anyone playing ball in college, and after that, I needed work so I joined the Coast Guard, and that was it." Devlin looked out at the empty stands. "I was really looking forward to this year's fair. The first year, I actually hit for the cycle. Can you believe that?"

"No, because I don't know what that is."

"It means you hit a single, a double, a triple, and a home run, all in the same game. I couldn't believe it, I felt like Jackie Robinson."

"Who?"

"One of the best ball players," said Devlin with a smile. "I was really looking forward to doing it again this year, to be a big shot and have people cheer my name, if just for a little while. Chief had to promise we wouldn't be on the same team because no one wanted to play against both of us." Devlin took a breath. "Just… forget I said any of that, it's stupid."

"No it's not," assured Clem. "You had fun doing this, and it made you happy, and you wanted to do it again; everybody wants to be happy."

"Yeah, but I need to stop thinking about the past, start thinking about what's ahead of us."

"We'll have to do that tomorrow," reminded Clem. "So, let's not think about it today, at least for a little while."

Devlin smiled at Clem, which made her smile too.

"What are you three up to?" Clem turned to see Patty walking across the field.

"Nothing," mumbled Anthony from the ground. "I'm officially retiring."

"Did you fix the go-kart?" asked Clem.

"Go-kart?" Anthony suddenly sat up and looked at Patty. "Devlin said all the go-karts were broken."

"I fixed one, then Clem wore it out and I fixed it again," informed Patty.

"Where?"

"It's on the track, next to the gate that leads out here to the stadium."

Anthony jumped to his feet, tossed off his glove, and started sprinting across the dirt. "Dibs!" he said as he disappeared into the outfield.

"Great, now we're gonna find it and him wrapped around a lamppost in a couple of minutes," chuckled Patty as she crossed into the infield. "Sorry Clem, you might be stuck waiting a while for another go."

"It's fine," assured Clem. "I had my turn; let him have some fun."

"Speaking of fun, you girls want to try some batting practice?" offered Devlin.

"I think I've had enough, but thanks for letting me play," said Clem as she handed the bat to Devlin. "Didn't you say there's a mini-golf course?"

"Right this way." Devlin led Clem to the back wall bordering the field. "All right, up we go." Devlin knelt down and offered his hand, which Clem recognized as a boost. She stepped onto his hand and he helped her climb over the wall and into the nearest row of bleachers. "All right, just head straight out of the stadium and to the parking lot across from it. You'll find the mini-golf course there."

"Got it."

"So, does this mean I get a private lesson?" Clem heard Patty ask as she jogged down the aisle.

"Sure, grab a bat," Devlin answered before Clem moved out of earshot of the pair. She quickly exited the stadium and hurried across the asphalt. As she reached the next lot, Clem found herself looking out on many twisted paths of green carpet boxed in by pieces of wood in every direction she looked. There were ramps, tunnels, a big toy castle, and everything else a mini-golf course should have, just a little rougher looking.

"You're stalling." Clem turned her head to find Jet standing by a small windmill that looked like it was meant to go in someone's yard. Sin was standing across from it with a putter in hand and a powder blue golf ball at his feet. "If you wait any longer I'm gonna give the windmill blades another push."

"That won't be necessary." Sin tapped the ball and it rolled forward, banging into one of the windmill blades as they swung past. "Dammit."

"Ha, that's another one I beat you on," boasted Jet.

"That makes what, ten holes now?" asked Sin.

"Eleven."

"Of course." Sin set his putter down and stepped off the course.

"Where are you going?"

"I thought I'd check on the art exhibit Devlin mentioned."

"But you haven't finished the last hole."

"Seeing as I've already lost, badly, I concede."

"You really beat him?" Clem asked Jet as Sin walked away.

"Yeah, mini-golf is like the one thing I'm better at than he is," said Jet as he rested his putter on his shoulder. "Probably because it's stupid and not important so he doesn't care, but whatever, it's nice to know there's one thing he's not an expert on."

"It might not be important but this definitely isn't stupid," said Clem as she looked out over the expansive golf course covering the entire lot.

"Yeah, Devlin said some of the kids from the orphanage helped build it," said Jet. "They did a really good job, I think it's even better than Speedy's."

"Speedy?

"Speedy's Fast Track. It was this awesome place we'd go every year on my birthday. They had a really cool mini-golf course, but their arcade was even better." Jet sighed as he looked out over the fairground. "It's weird huh, thinking about how there used to be places where people would just go to have fun all day."

"A little, yeah," agreed Clem.

"If Omid was older, and you tried to explain this to him, I bet he wouldn't understand," spoke a melancholy Jet. "I mean, places where everything is just there to have fun, it sounds like something out of a dream now; he probably wouldn't believe it."

"I remember stuff like this and I barely believe it was ever real," admitted Clem. "We went to Disney World back when we were in Florida, and Omid was mostly just scared of all the dead bodies there. Without people, it was just a lot of broken decorations and rides that didn't work."

"Sorta like here," said Jet. "A lot of the decorations for the mini-golf course were blown over and we had to try to put them back where we think they went, and most of the other stuff here doesn't work without electricity.

"I remember, after we finished clearing out the areas around the shopping center, Granddad went with Devlin to check on the dam, and I hoped maybe he could get it working again, only for him to tell us the machinery was broken beyond repair, and even if it wasn't, he didn't know how to fix it."

"And then there was that other dam that broke and almost killed us when it flooded," said Clem. "Your Granddad said it made electricity too."

"I guess it's all gonna break eventually now that there's no one left to fix things or make new parts to replace the old ones." Clem tried to think of something to say to Jet, but could only manage a look of quiet resignation. "Sorry, just thinking out loud."

"Why don't we play some mini-golf?" asked Clem, desperate to change the subject. "We can still do that."

"Yeah, it's just a shame there will never be another Speedy's. Seriously, they had the best go-karts there too. I liked them more than the mini-golf. I wish the ones here worked."

"Actually, Patty got one of them working."

Jet went wide-eyed with shock upon hearing that. "Really?"

"Yeah, I got to drive one. It was really fun." Jet just stared at Clem, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but then Clem heard a buzzing sound way off in the distance, and she realized Jet probably couldn't believe he was hearing that instead. "That's probably Anthony driving it right now."

Jet turned suddenly, as if he was going to leave, but hesitated. "Umm… would you mind if—"

"Go head," prompted Clem with a smile. "You already played mini-golf anyway."

"Thanks!" Jet set his putter on the ground and took off running in the direction of the go-kart track. Looking at the two discarded golf clubs, Clem found an idea forming in her head as she reached for her radio.

"Sarah?"

Clem reunited with Sarah and Omid, then returned to the mini-golf course. As they played their way through the eighteen holes, Clem found herself disappointed by how badly damaged they were. The green carpet on most of them and had been warped by the weather, creating little creases that messed up the ball. One hole wasn't even finished, missing the actual hole anywhere on the course. And whatever decorations Jet hadn't put back where now scattered across the lot between holes, often in pieces.

Still, Clem enjoyed herself. Neither she or Sarah were very good at mini-golf, but that keep things competitive as they both struggled to prove they were marginally less terrible than the other one. And Omid never tired of chasing after the colorful golf balls the girls hit or pushing over decorations that Jet had likely painstakingly set back up, something Sarah couldn't resist taking a picture of. After taking turns spinning the windmill for the last hole, the girls realized they had lost track of the score and just agreed to a draw.

Moving past the mini-golf course, the girls explored some of the buildings making up the center of the fairgrounds. One was full of now lifeless arcade cabinets, likely brought in later judging from the displaced furniture. Clem briefly fiddled with a few of the controls while Omid stared at some of the artwork on the sides before they moved onto another building.

The next one was likely a cafeteria, with very long tables running across the length of the building. Whenever it was always or cafeteria or recently converted into one Clem couldn't say. The building past it had much smaller tables spread out all over the place, along with a few boxes sitting on them. Digging through one, Clem found only odds and ends like books, knick knacks, and a few other things. Sarah surmised this was likely meant for the swap meet that never happened.

Eventually, the girls found themselves arriving at a white building with large glass windows and big trees planted out in front of it. This must have been the pavilion Devlin mentioned, so the girls went inside to check out the art exhibit. Sadly, there wasn't much to see, being a large but empty arena of seats surrounding a floor that would also be empty if not for the few rows of free-standing walls. Most of the walls didn't have anything on them, and there were boxes and tipped over walls cluttering the floor, marking this as yet another incomplete attraction of Tulsa's final fair.

Wandering the improv halls, Clem found herself briefly eyeing drawings and other illustrations hanging on the walls. Some of them were portraits of people Clem didn't recognize, other landscapes. Some were painted in watercolors, some were simple pencil sketches. Approaching a long wall in the center of the arena, a single canvass caught Clem's eye.

It was hard to see all the details in the low light, but in the center of canvass was a set of disembodied hands grasping each other. Each hand's fingers had interlocked with the other's, forming an almost heart-like shape that was the center of the painting. The background was several shades of dark green, forming a kind of murky bog decorated with ink blots of varying shape and size.

"It's an interesting piece." Clementine nearly jumped out of her skin as she spun around.

"Sin?" Clem watched as the man moved in from the edge of the arena. "You scared the hell out me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," said Sin as he stepped forward.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sarah.

"I came here to look at the art," said Sin.

"Wasn't that a while ago?" asked Clem. "Why are you still here?"

"My miea, wife, used to say I usually couldn't appreciate art because I didn't have the patience for any art that wasn't hers," said Sin as he approached the painting. "So, I decided to take my time, think about what I saw, then look at it again and see if I noticed anything new."

"And?" asked Sarah. "Do you?"

"I'm curious to what the darker shapes represent. I initially assumed they were a simple representation of evil or danger, but now I'm not so sure. Looking more closely, they might be hands as well."

Studying the painting more closely, Clem saw the blots had much more defined shapes than she realized, but couldn't tell if they were supposed to be hands or something else in this dim lighting.

"Perhaps it's trying to say for every two souls that make a connection, a dozen others won't, and the piece is really a tragedy. Or, maybe the other shapes are people Tulsa was yet to find and take in from the cold.

"I'm not much of an art critic. Mostly, I was just thinking about how difficult it must have been to be create any art under these circumstances. But then, art and adversity often go hand and hand… perhaps that's the painting's meaning."

"It still just looks like a couple of hands to me," admitted Clem. "Sarah?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe—"

"Ah-wah-fud," said Omid as he tried wandering out of Sarah's grip.

"Omid, no," said Sarah as she held him back.

"Fud! Wah-fud!"

"I think he wants to go back to the rides and games," realized Sarah. "He likes touching the stuff they draw on the signs."

"This art gallery is kind of drab for a one-year-old," admitted Sin with the slightest of smirks.

"You want to come with us?" asked Clem as she picked up Omid.

"I should find Jet, see what he wants to do. Have either of you seen him?"

"Last I saw him, he was going to the go-kart track," said Clem.

"I thought the go-karts didn't work?"

"Patty fixed one."

"Well then, that's where I'll find him."

Sin headed for the exit while Sarah raised her camera. She took a picture of the portrait hanging on the wall, then went with Clem out to parking lot. The pair gravitated back to the numerous rides and carnival games set up across the parking lot. Like so much else at the fair, some of them were unfinished, and many others had been ravaged by the weather. Eventually, Omid honed in on a small funhouse built onto a long truck bed.

"Fud!"

Omid started clumsily moving towards the alleged funhouse while Sarah and Clem followed behind him.

"This place again," sighed Sarah.

"Again?"

"He came earlier when you were on the go-kart track. More than once."

"Fud!" cheered Omid as Clem helped him up the steps. "Fud!" Clem followed Omid as he walked past the circular hole that served as the entrance. The funhouse interior appeared to be a small obstacle course composed mostly of padded obstructions, none of which were a hindrance to someone as short and small as Omid. Pushing past the large foam cylinders blocking her way, Clem watched as the tiny boy hurried towards the huge wheel built into the center of the area.

"Fud!" Omid slowly climbed into the wheel, then started trying to walk along it. He was too light to make it spin, but when he couldn't move any further he started pushing against the wall. Clem watched as Sarah entered the wheel and leaned against the side Omid was pushing on, causing the wheel to spin forward slightly, which then caused Omid to burst into a fit of giggles.

"He really loves this thing."

"Fuh-huh-ha!" giggled Omid as Sarah tilted the wheel a little more.

"Give me your camera," said Clem. "I'll get a picture of you two."

"Sure." Sarah removed the camera from her neck and handed it to Clem.

"Okay," said Clem as she unfolded the camera. "Say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

"Wee-hee-hee!"

Clem pressed the button and there was a loud click.

"Here," said Sarah as she fished something out of her pocket. "While you're waiting for that one to develop."

Clem sat down to examine the handful of photos while Sarah continued to amuse Omid. After skipping past the picture from the golf course, Clem found herself looking at a photo of Omid standing by a sign that read 'You must be this tall to ride'. Another was Omid placing his hands on a different sign that had a picture of a large bird on it, and the next was him sitting in a giant teacup.

"I think he's even cuter in photos," said Clem with a smile.

"I would have taken more but he almost never sits still," said Sarah as she tilted the wheel forward a bit more for Omid. Clem turned to the next photo and found herself looking at Sarah's copy of the painting.

"You know, I just realized something," said Sarah. "If Omid is a year old, that means it's been over a year since you and I met."

"Oh yeah, I guess it has," said Clem as she pocketed the photos. "It feels like it's been longer, a lot longer."

"I know. I wish I could remember the exact day we met."

"Why?"

"I don't know, it just feels important. Like… it's our anniversary or something."

"We should do something to celebrate," suggested Clem.

"I thought we already were?" said Sarah as she pushed the wheel forward again, prompting more giggles from Omid.

"We're celebrating Omid's birthday," reminded Clem. "We should do something extra for our anniversary."

"We should find out what day our anniversary is," yawned Sarah. "Maybe sometime next year."

Looking at the exit, Clem could see the already waning light was fading fast. "It's probably time we go back," she realized.

"Yeah." Sarah knelt down to pick up Omid.

"Nuh! Wah-fud!" protested the boy loudly.

"I know," spoke a sympathetic Clem. "But we can't stay here forever."

Walking back to the Brave, Clem conferred with the others over the radio that they were ready to leave too, especially since Patty said she was done repairing that go-kart. By the time they made their way through the twisting maze of abandoned amusement park rides, they had found the others and their vehicles gathered near the Brave. Jet, Anthony, Patty, Devlin, even Sin all shared a look of sadness that the day was over.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," said Anthony, as if he was stating what everyone was thinking.

"Yeah," said Devlin with a sigh.

"If we hurry back, we can finish our preparations tonight," suggested Sin. "That when can all get a good night's sleep before we head out tomorrow."

"To start our new lives as farmers," lamented Patty.

"Maybe we could come back here next year?" suggested Jet. "You know, if things work out."

"That'd be nice," said Sarah.

"Yeah, it would." Clem opened the door to the Brave, but didn't go inside.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Now that he's a year old, we should see how tall he is," realized Clem as she looked at crude height chart they had made on the doorframe.

"Oh yeah, go—"

"On it." Clem hurried inside and to the cupboard they kept their markers in. She dug past a stack of whetstones and a couple bottles of cleaning solution to find them, then bounded back outside.

"Okay Omid," said Sarah as she picked up the toddler. "Hold still."

"Wah-fud!" protested Omid as Sarah placed him on the Brave's bottom step. His constant squirming made it hard for Clem to make a mark on the door, but eventually Sarah held him in place long enough for Clem to trace a line just over his head. As Omid hurried away from his place on the bottom step, Clem wrote the date next to the line, along with 'Happy Birthday!'

"He's grown a lot in a month and a half," realized Sarah as she studied the marks. "Like over half an inch."

"Maybe we have too." Clementine looked at Sarah, then hopped onto the bottom step. Clem was pleased to see her newest mark was noticeably higher than her old one. It was minuscule growth compared to Omid's, but just the fact she had gotten taller at all pleased her. Clem measured Sarah next, and was mildly annoyed that Sarah seemed to be getting taller slightly faster than her. Finally, Jet stepped up to be measured, and his slight growth pushed him closer to Patty's mark on the door.

"What about me?" asked Anthony. "I'm pretty sure I can get taller still before my next birthday."

"How old are you?" asked Devlin

"Seventeen. Surprised?"

"Yeah," said Devlin. "I figured you were a little younger."

Clem couldn't stop herself from smirking when she saw how Devlin's comment annoyed Anthony. Sarah grabbed a yellow marker out of the bag and Anthony took his place on the Brave's bottom step. Stretching up to make a mark above Anthony's head, Clem found herself a little annoyed at the way he was smiling at Sarah, but then she always found his smile annoying.

"Well, look at that," said Anthony as he admired how much higher his mark was on the door. "I think I'm even taller than Devlin."

"No way," said Jet.

"Well, there's one way to find out." Anthony looked at Devlin, who just shrugged and climbed onto the Brave's step. Sarah used an orange marker to draw the line, then Devlin stepped back, revealing his mark was just ever so slightly higher than Anthony's.

"Told ya," said Jet with a smug grin.

"Oh just barely," reasoned Anthony. "And he's wearing those big ass army boots."

"You're wearing boots too," reminded Jet.

"Sin," said Sarah. "We should measure you too."

"Why? I'm not going to get taller. If anything, I'll start shrinking."

"It's just, then we'll have everyone on the door," said Sarah.

"And it'll be a reference," reasoned Jet. "Like Patty's mark."

"They're growing kids," Patty said to Sin. "Just go with it."

Sin sighed, then stepped forward. Sarah grabbed the brown marker, the only they hadn't used, and made a mark for him as well. Looking at the door frame, it was amusing to see the lopsided and out-of-sequence rainbow of marks leading up to the top, but Clem felt like they should do something else to commemorate this occasion.

"We should get a picture while we're all here," said Clem as she grabbed hold of the camera. "Everyone, just stand next to each other."

"What about you?" asked Sarah. "You should be in the picture too."

"I think there's too many of us this time to just hold the camera out in front of our face," concluded Clem.

"May I see it?" Clem handed the camera to Sin, who's eyes and fingers immediately went to the button on the side of it. "Could I take one picture to test something?"

"Sure."

"Take a picture of Devlin," said Sarah. "I don't have one of him yet."

Devlin stood by the Brave while Sin aimed the camera at him. He very slowly clutched the button for the camera, almost as if he was trying to take a picture as slowly as possible. After what felt like several minutes, the camera clicked and out a came a photo, which Sin handed to Sarah.

"The button takes a decent amount of pressure, but not too much that we can't probably use it from a distance." Clem watched as Sin set the camera down, then knelt down to untie his shoe. He removed one of his shoelaces, then tied it into what Clem recognized as a slipknot. Threading the loop around the button on the side of the camera, Clem realized his plan and knelt down to untie her own shoe.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah.

"We're gonna need a longer rope." Clem removed her shoelaces, which Sin tied to his own, eventually creating a long pull cord for the camera. Sarah then climbed into the Brave and set the camera on the top step where she began the painstaking process of positioning it while arranging the others standing outside with orders to move in certain directions.

Eventually, Sarah seemed satisfied with the group's arrangement, then proceeded to tape the camera to the floor per Sin's suggestion so the pull cord wouldn't just yank their only means of taking photos down the steps and onto the hard pavement. Hurrying down the steps, Clem grabbed the pull cord and waited for Sarah to get into position. Sarah took hold of Omid, who kept trying to wander off, then looked right at the camera.

"Okay, everyone smile." Clem put on a smile herself then, very gently, tugged on the rope of tied shoelaces. It took more effort than she thought it would, and she found herself hesitating because she was afraid she'd pull too hard and yank the camera free from the tape, but finally a firm tug was rewarded with a satisfying click and a photograph. Hurrying over to it, Clem could see even on the still developing outline that everyone was in the shot.

"It looks good," said Sarah.

"Yeah," said Clem.

"Great, can we leave now?" asked Anthony. "I'm freezing my ass off out here."

"Yeah, me too," added Patty.

Clem handed the photo to Sarah and went over to collect Omid, who was slowly trying to walk back towards the fair. "Come on," said Clem as she grabbed Omid's hand. "Let's go." Trying to move Omid back to the Brave was instantly met with much resistance.

"Wah-fud! Wah-fud!"

"OJ, no. It's time to go."

"No!"

Everyone looked at Omid in shock.

"Did he just…"

"OJ," said Clem as she knelt down "Let's go." Clem gently tugged on Omid's arm, prompting him to pull back.

"No!" he said.

"He said his first word!" exclaimed Sarah.

"You… you want to go," said Clem, unable to restrain her giddiness. "Right OJ?" Clem tugged on his arm again, prompting him to pull it out of her loose grip.

"No!"

"Holy crap," said Anthony.

"I know," spoke an awestruck Patty.

"Not him, that." Anthony pointed up at the sky, prompting everyone else to look up.

"What's that?" asked Jet.

"What's that—are you serious?" asked Anthony. "It's snowing!"

"I'm from Houston, we don't have snow there," retorted Jet.

"Ditto, cept for Miami instead of Houston," added Patty.

"We usually don't get snow this close to spring in Tulsa either," said Devlin. "Especially after it barely snowed this winter."

"Suh-no." Omid reached his hands up into the sky and tried to grab one of the tiny white specks falling towards him. But unlike the clouds or the birds, this time he was able to pluck them right out of the air, and seeing a snowflake stick to his glove caused the boy no small amount of amazement. "Suh-no!" Clem watched as Omid started stumbling about the area, eyes and hands both aimed skyward as he tried catching more snowflakes.

"I guess we're not going in yet," concluded Clem.

"Yeah," said Sarah.

"Actually," said Patty as she approached the pair. "Why don't you two head inside and get warm. We can watch Omid until he gets bored."

"You're sure?" asked Clem. "Knowing him, that might be a while."

"I'm sure."

"If anything—"

"We'll come get you." Patty smiled at Clem and Sarah, who both turned and headed back into the Brave. Watching Omid run about, trying to catch the snowflakes, with all the others looking on, Clem found her hand moving to the camera. She peeled off the tape and snapped one more photo, then closed the door.

"I think this turned out be a pretty good first birthday," said Sarah as she plopped down on the couch.

"Yeah," said Clem as she sat down right next to Sarah. "And hopefully, he'll be tired enough to sleep all night for once."

"Hopefully," repeated Sarah as she leaned back in her seat.

"You know, while we're waiting, we still got time to do something for our anniversary."

"Like what?" asked Sarah. "I'm pretty tired, and I still got to finish my work on those books for the farm when we get back."

"Well… how about we just play chess?"

"You know… that sounds nice."

Clem set up the chess board between the driver and passenger seats so they can watch Omid through the windshield while Sarah flipped on the Brave's headlights to give themselves a better view of the outside. The high beams repelled the encroaching darkness and gave every snowflake in the area a twinkle, which just made Omid more eager to grab them.

"This kinda reminds me of that night we spent at Walter and Matthew's," said Sarah as she finished placing the pieces on the board. "Except, you didn't even know how to play chess back then."

"I do now."

Clem made her opening move and then Sarah made her's. The pair played quickly, often only stopping to briefly glance out the window at Omid as he collected snowflakes. By now, Clem was very familiar with Sarah's opening strategies and how to counter them. Unfortunately, Sarah was well aware of Clem's tactics as well, resulting in the first several moves feeling more like a formality. It wasn't until they had progressed past that did it feel like they were actually playing, and shortly after that Sarah seemed to stall. Looking up at her friend, Clem noticed she appeared distracted.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem. "Afraid you're going to lose?"

"No, it's not that."

Clem grimaced in response. "What then?"

"It's just… I'm worried this isn't going to work," confessed Sarah.

"What?"

"The farm," she said. "This was all my idea, so if it doesn't work, then—"

"It'll be okay, Sarah. It—"

"What if it's not? Then I'll have made everything worse and—"

"Sarah," said Clem in a stern voice. "It's okay. We all agreed with you to do the farm, and if it doesn't work, we can come back and make new plans."

"I know, it's just… I don't know," said Sarah as she shook her head. "I don't know what's going to happen, and that scares me; that always scares me."

"It scares me too…"

Clem watched as Sarah finally took her turn. Looking down at the board, still cluttered with pieces, Clem tried to decide what her next move should be. She had maintained control for the moment, but by now she had moved past all of Sarah's opening moves and where the game went from here was unknown territory for Clementine. She placed her hand on her queen, then pulled it back suddenly, fearful it would be the wrong choice.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 69 - Spoils

"You ready for this partner?" asked Patty.

"I… I think so," said Clementine as she tightened her grip.

"All right then, here we go." Clem felt her stomach drop as she was pushed forward, the bike picking up speed beneath her.

"Okay, don't let go until—"

"I already did!" Briefly glancing over her shoulder, Clem saw she was swiftly pulling away from a now distant Patty. "Pedal!"

The bike wobbled as Clem looked ahead and she was afraid it was going to fall over any second, but she managed to steady herself long enough to start pedaling, and then it happened.

"I'm… I'm actually doing it," realized Clem as the cold wind blew past her face. "I'm riding it!" She pedaled harder and the bike moved faster with her. Seeing the cracked asphalt rushing by beneath her tires, Clem suddenly felt like she was flying, and she wanted to fly faster. She pedaled as hard as she could and everything began to disappear into a blur as she tore across the parking lot. In no time, the many shops and superstores that made up the shopping center were gone and Clem was zooming past a broken chain-link gate and onto the road.

She veered left suddenly, feeling the weight of the turn as she weaved her bike around the stacks of bodies lying in the road, then quickly turned back to the center of the street. Clem smiled as she raced down the open road, moving faster than she had ever moved before on her own power. The bike felt like it was an extension of herself, and with a quick twist of her wrists she took off down a smaller road bordering the main road.

After blowing past a gas station, Clem stopped pedaling for a moment and examined her surroundings. A pond flew past her on the left while a dead forest to her right almost seemed to follow her as she coasted by on momentum. Looking ahead, Clem saw the hospital quickly coming up to meet her. At least Devlin told her it was a hospital, even though it didn't really look like one. It was a large one-story building whose walls snaked out at odd angles; it reminded her more of a school.

Putting her feet down and skidding to a sudden stop, Clem took a moment to catch her breath. She had been here about two weeks ago when the group had cleared out the surrounding areas of walkers. Clem remembered the trip to the hospital had taken several minutes of walking, whereas the bike had brought her in a fraction of the time and effort. She briefly looked downward to admire her shiny new red mount, then took off racing back towards the shopping center. It wasn't long before she was rolling up to the curb bordering the Sam's Club, where Patty was still waiting.

"I was starting to think I wasn't going to see you again," said the woman with a grin as she stood up.

"I was having too much fun," said Clem as she slowed to a stop. "I didn't want to stop."

"I know the feeling. First time I rode a bike I just took off down the road, nearly got myself killed when I rode through an intersection."

"I just didn't want to stop," admitted Clem as she stepped off the seat. "Thanks so much for teaching me how to ride a bike."

"It was no problem, you're a fast learner. Took me like a month to get up the nerve to ditch the training wheels; you did it in just a few days."

"Do you want to ride together?" asked Clem. "There were more bikes left at the Target. We could get you one."

"Maybe another time. I was gonna see if I could finish up with the Brave's tune-up before lunch."

"How is it?" asked a concerned Clem as she looked over at the weathered RV parked next to the curb. "Did you ever find out what's wrong with it?"

"Well, I guess the good news is I haven't found anything wrong with it that I haven't been able to fix yet, and it starts most of the time now."

"But not every time?"

Patty shrugged. "I think the cold might be part of the reason; diesel engines tend to be stubborn when it gets cold. I guess we'll find out soon since it's… what's today?"

"Um… February fourteenth. I remember because I asked Sarah what the date was a week ago, and it was the seventh, and I was counting the days until Valentine's Day, which is today."

"I couldn't think of a more romantic place to spend it," joked Patty as she looked out at the empty parking lot and vacated storefronts. "Anyways, it'll start getting warmer soon which hopefully means it won't be so stubborn to start. Other than not knowing how to fix the damn shower, I think the Brave is all right."

"What if it's something else though?" asked Clem. "What if it gets warmer and it still doesn't want to start every time? Then what?"

"I don't know what to tell you then," said Patty with a sigh. "Moving parts wear out, all that heating up and cooling down causes metal to crack and break, and getting caught in a flood doesn't help either; eventually, things just break."

Clem found herself disturbed by what Patty was telling her, mostly because she knew it was true. "I hope that doesn't happen for a while."

"Yeah, well, as long as we take care of the Brave and avoid any more damn rivers, there should be plenty of miles left in her." Patty took a breath and looked over her shoulder at the vehicle. "Well, I should get back to work. I don't suppose you want to help out?"

"I can," offered Clem.

"I was just kidding, go enjoy your new bike," said Patty with a smile.

"Actually, I was thinking about going over to the Target."

"For what?"

"Clothes."

"More? You've gone clothes shopping like three times this week. Don't tell me you're going to replace that leather jacket so soon."

"No way, I love my new jacket," said Clem as she admired the black leather covering her arms. "It looks just like yours."

"Better, mine's getting worn out," admitted Patty as she examined her own jacket. "Still can't believe they had that in your size."

"They have lots of stuff in my size," said Clem as climbed back onto her bike. "But today, I want to get some earrings."

"I can always lend you mine," suggested Patty.

"Yours are cool, but I want my own."

Clem took off down the road and before long she found herself wheeling up to the Target's front doors. She unclipped her helmet and hung it on the handlebars, then parked the bike by the curb. The store's interior was dimly lit by a series of small skylights running across the ceiling, like most of the larger buildings in the shopping center. Devlin had said after they had moved anything they considered a resource to more secure locations, they let residents take whatever they wanted from the stores.

Everything from furniture to cookware to hardware had been whittled down to the point where one department was barely discernible from any another. Electronics in particular was just empty space now, apparently having been cleaned out shortly after the Keystone Dam was brought back online. With few exceptions, like the greetings card aisle, the shelves and racks that made up the store's inventory were mostly empty now.

But Clem had been here enough times to know what had and hadn't been taken, and navigated towards what remained of the jewelry section. She found herself tempted by the various necklaces, rings, and bracelets on display, and even a few of the more stylish watches. But it was the earrings Clem spent most of her time perusing. She spent some time modeling the different types in the mirror, but eventually settled on a couple of hoops covered in colorful beads and tiny tassels, carefully hooking them to her recently pierced ears.

Happy with her selection, Clem headed for clothes next. She had been fortunate in there was much more clothing left for children than adults. She had successfully replaced most of her wardrobe by now, everything from spare socks to a nice top and skirt combo for if there was ever a need to look festive. There really wasn't much left for her to find in the half-empty and often overturned sales racks at this point, but as she was digging through a pile of shirts, she spotted something bright blue peeking out from underneath all the clutter.

Unearthing the mysterious garment, Clementine discovered it was a sleeveless gown. It was a striking shade of dark blue, with an intricate floral pattern decorating the top, a sparkling white series of white gems running across the waist to form a belted section, then transitioning into a long flowing skirt split down the middle by the same floral pattern as the top. Examining it more closely, Clem could tell the gems were just plastic or something else of little value, but she didn't care, it looked beautiful.

Holding the dress up against her chest, Clem realized it was too big for her, and it'd probably be a long time before she would grow into it, but she took it anyway. Satisfied with her finds, Clem was going to make for the exit when there was a sudden bang in the distance. She dropped the dress and reached for a pistol she hadn't brought before she realized the sound wasn't a gunshot. The bang was followed by many more loud yet rhythmic noises echoing throughout the store.

Following the sound out of the clothing aisles, it grew louder and it became more obvious it was drums she was hearing. At first, Clem thought someone was playing a CD or something, but it sounded too loud, and all she could hear were drums and no other instruments. Following the percussive beat, Clem realized she had entered a section of the store that sold musical instruments, and not long after she found the source of the noise; it was Jet sitting behind a drum kit.

She watched as the boy rolled the sticks on top of a snare drum before twisting to his right and bouncing the sticks off every drum head in front of him. He hit the cymbal hanging in the air to create a loud crashing sound before swinging one hand back to snare drum while crossing his other hand over it to tap out a beat on a pair of cymbals mounted on a rod attached to a pedal Jet was tapping with his foot.

Clem sat down and watched as Jet continued to play, doing more drum rolls, hitting cymbals, and stomping on another pedal that caused a mallet to strike the huge overturned drum the other smaller ones were mounted on top of. Even with just the one instrument, she liked listening to the boy play and enjoyed watching him in motion even more.

His movements were fluid yet forceful as he effortlessly transitioned his arms to and from every piece of the kit, all the while his feet moved to a elaborate but consistent beat. The grace and precision Jet demonstrated made it hard for Clem to believe he ever struggled so hard fighting walkers. Eventually, after a final explosive volley of cymbal crashes, Jet stopped playing suddenly. Hearing him take a few quick breaths and realizing he must be taking a break, Clem started clapping.

"Huh," said Jet as he spun around on his stool. "Clementine? How long have you been here?"

"Since not long after I heard you start playing. You're really good."

"Am I?"

"Yeah."

"I was just messing around. It's what I used to do back in Houston. After they wouldn't turn on the power anymore, and I read everything in the house twice, all that was left was just to practice playing the drums, all day."

Jet sighed. "I wished the dam Devlin mentioned still worked, then maybe we could at least watch movies or do something more fun."

"You could go get some new clothes," suggested Clem. "I find that fun."

"Ehh, I don't."

"We could play chess, or maybe another game I'm better at," said Clem. "There's tons of stuff we could do if you're bored."

"It's more then me being bored," said Jet as he shook his head. "I mean, how long are we going to stay here?"

"You want to leave?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Jet. "I mean, here is definitely better than driving around and looking for food like we had been doing, but I'm still worried what'll happen when the food here runs out eventually."

"That won't be for a long time," reasoned Clem. "You should have fun and enjoy yourself while you can."

"I can't. Every time I try, I just keep thinking about all the things I can't do now. I can't get to my parents, I can never be an astronaut, I can't even go back to school."

"You want to go back to school?"

"A little. It was nice seeing other people my age, or just other people at all I guess. I mean, don't you miss it, the ways things were?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I miss it but… it's been so long; it feels like it was a million years ago."

"Not to me it doesn't. In Houston, it always felt like I was just waiting for things to go back to normal, or close to it, but it just kept getting worse. They kept giving us less food, they turned on the electricity less and less, and now we're here and I can't stop thinking about how much better things were."

Although it was still distant in her mind, Clem did briefly remember her relatively carefree life before she was forced to scrounge for food, kill monsters that wanted to eat her alive, and be afraid of every single person she met. She just went to school, played with her friends, and spent time with her parents. Despite knowing that's how it happened, it still felt unreal to her, like she had never really lived that life. But looking at Jet, it was clearly real to him, and the loss of it was weighing heavy on the boy's mind.

"Maybe one day things will get better," suggested Clem.

"That's not going to happen," said Jet.

"You don't know that," argued Clem. "If we can kill all these walkers by ourselves, other people will figure it out eventually, especially if we keep leaving behind messages that say they can use the walker smell, and the walkers are so dumb that a lot of them will kill themselves. One day, they're gonna be gone and—"

"And the world will still be screwed up." Jet slumped over on his stool.

"There… there could be other people out there, trying to make things better," reasoned Clem. "We don't know if all the people who left aren't ever coming back, or if there aren't other people still here trying to fix stuff."

Jet twirled one of the drumsticks in his hand, as if he was thinking about what Clem said. "I remember asking my parents why they had to go to somewhere so dangerous, like Afghanistan, and they told me people there needed help. I asked them why they couldn't help people here, they said the ones over there needed help more. Then I asked why did it have to be them, and they said because they could… now everywhere needs help."

"Maybe there are more people like that still out there coming to help us," suggested Clem with a grin. "Maybe your mom and dad made things better over there and will come back here to help us, and you'll find them again."

"They said what they were doing would take years," informed Jet. "And that was before everything got screwed up. Even if they're okay and find a way to get back here, it'd probably take decades for it to be safe enough to go looking for them, if ever; we'll be out of food by then."

Clem tried to think of a counter argument, but nothing sprung to mind. In fact, she found Jet's analysis of the situation upsetting the more she dwelled on it.

"I'm sorry," said Jet, likely noticing Clem's distress. "Truth is, I didn't even see my parents that much anymore because they were gone much, but I still miss them, a lot. I guess it's selfish to say this, but I want more than just not worrying about starving to death."

"I do too," admitted Clem. "But not starving means I can do a lot of stuff I've wanted to do but couldn't because I never had time."

"I guess it's different for me, since when I was in Houston, I had tons of time to read whatever we had, play old board games, and this," said Jet as he hit one of the cymbals. "In a weird way, it feels like I'm stuck back home again, just waiting for something to happen. Like I said, it's better than where we were but—"

"It's still hard," finished Clem. "I know, I spent a lot of time just waiting. The first few months after things changed, I spent all my time at this hotel, just waiting for the day I could go home, which never happened. And then I spent like half a year in this cabin in the woods, just me and OJ's parents. It wasn't bad but…"

"You feel like a prisoner," finished Jet. "Because you know you can't just leave and go somewhere else."

"Um… yeah," said Clem, realizing that was how she had felt. "But once we left the cabin, Sarah and I stayed in this house together for a long time, and that didn't feel like a prison."

"Why not?"

"Because, we had plenty of food, and we had each other, so we could just spend whole days together."

Jet groaned. "I spent too many days alone with Granddad in Houston."

Clem watched as Jet pivoted on his stool back towards the drum kit, frustration stewing on his face. After thinking about what she could say, Clem inched in close and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You've got all of us now too," spoke a sincere Clem.

"Um… thanks," said Jet, sounding a little surprised.

"There's lot of things we could do together; Patty keeps saying she wants to play poker with more people than just me."

"You think she'd really want a kid like me around?" asked Jet.

"Sure, she's really nice to kids, but doesn't treat me and Sarah like kids. You should come play poker with us, you'd love her."

"Yeah, that could be fun, I might do that later," said Jet as he turned back to the drum kit. "I think I'd like to keep doing this for a while though, it does help me relax, a little."

"Okay." Clem turned to leave, but stopped when she noticed the dress on the ground. "Oh, you don't know where Sarah is, do you?" she asked as she grabbed it. "I think she said something at breakfast about getting some stuff from here for OJ."

"She and Anthony were here earlier. They said they were going to take some things over to Devlin," informed Jet. "He's probably watching the road from where he usually is."

"Got it." Clem skipped out of the store to the rhythm of Jet's drumming. She stopped briefly at the checkout counters, grabbing one of the few plastic bags left on the rack, then burst back outside. Clem carefully folded the dress before placing it in the bag, then threaded the bag's handles around the bike's handlebars. She then put her helmet back on and took off in a flash.

Racing across the parking lot on her bike, Clem found herself lamenting never learning to ride a bike sooner. Not only was it fun, she was also able to ride a lot faster than she was ever able to run. The endless hours she spent walking desolate roads easily would have been cut in half on a bike. It had no engine, so it'd make no noise that would attract walkers, and if she got a basket she could carry food and other things much easier with it then she could on her back.

Before Clem could even finish thinking about how much easier her life would have been with a bike, she discovered she had already crossed the parking lot and arrived at the other end of the shopping center at the narrow gap between buildings. The stacks of walkers bodies lining the sides of the opening festering in the morning sun was an unpleasant sight, and an even more unpleasant smell. Luckily, she didn't need to pass through the gap to reach Devlin. Turning to her right, Clem looked past the broken remnants of the semi-trailer and at the rope ladder hanging in front of a store called Marshall's.

Climbing up the ladder, Clem didn't even need to reach the top to know Devlin was there. After they had finished securing the area around the shopping center, Devlin insisted he serve as their lookout. Since then, he diligently spent his days on top of this store to keep watch over the highway. She had hardly seen Devlin over the last two weeks except at meals, and despite his initial warm behavior he had become withdrawn since then, something that had made Clem worry for the man. He had done a lot to help them, but seemed to never want anything in return.

Reaching the top of the ladder, Clem discovered a few pieces of furniture had been added to Devlin's normal lookout spot on the far end of the roof. The few times she had come up here before there had only been a single folding chair and a small stool Devlin usually left his binoculars on. Now there was a lounger chair with a large umbrella providing shade over the area. Walking up to the chair, she spotted Devlin lying on his back while looking out into the distance.

"There a problem?" Clem was a little startled by Devlin speaking so suddenly; she could have sworn he hadn't noticed her yet.

"There's no problem," assured Clem as she moved in front of the man. Seeing his face, he seemed detached, his eyes staring off into nothing, like he wasn't really there. "What about you? Do you have any problems?"

"Like I told Sarah, you don't have to worry about me," assured Devlin as he shifted slightly in his seat.

"Did Sarah really bring you this stuff?" asked Clem as she also noticed a portable CD player sitting by Devlin's lounger.

"Her and Anthony, although I'm pretty sure it was her idea, not his," said Devlin. "Like I said, don't worry about me."

"But I am worried," said Clem. "If you don't want us to worry, you should tell me what's bothering you."

"The last thing I want to do is saddle a kid with my problems, especially one who's raising a baby," said Devlin.

"Sarah is taking care of OJ today, and I've had to deal with really bad problems before."

"I don't think you've had to deal with my kind of problems before."

"Are you worried about what happened to your parents?" said Clem as she crossed her arms. "Because I did for a long time, and it didn't end well, and that was just one time I was worried about someone I loved."

Devlin turned to look Clem in the eyes. "Point taken," spoke the man in an apologetic tone as he sat up. "I just keep thinking about the Chief."

"She was the one who was in charge in Tulsa, right?"

"She was more than in charge, she was leading us," stated Devlin. "Even if the Navy hadn't of assigned her to us we would have followed her."

"You miss her," concluded Clem.

"I do, but that's not what's got me thinking about her lately. Why would she just leave without a word?"

"What do you mean?"

"She said she'd send someone back up the river if anything ever changed in New Orleans, so why wouldn't she send someone up to tell me about the evacuation?"

"Maybe she couldn't?"

"You don't know the Chief. If she was still alive, she would have found a way to get a message up to me."

"Well, maybe she isn't," said Clem in as sympathetic a voice as she could.

"Don't misunderstand me, I know death is around every corner, but the bits and pieces you told me about New Orleans make it hard for me to believe she just up and died. She already said she was going ahead of the other boats, so if something happened to her right then, they all would have come back here, so they didn't kill her at the border.

"Then, what you told me about New Orleans, about how it just looks like they up and left… Sarah showed me the photo she took, and I just can't stop thinking about how there has to be some clue to what happened to the Chief somewhere in the city. I mean, you said you weren't even there that long, and that most of what you know came from a couple of soldiers who got there before you."

"Well, yeah, but—"

"I've got my boat anchored outside of town. I could go down there and—"

"Devlin," said Clem in a stern voice. "I know how you feel, and so does Jet. He wants to find his parents, but they're all the way in Afghanistan, so there's nothing he can do."

"His parents were soldiers?" asked a surprised Devlin.

"No, he said they were part of a group who went places to help people. He also said they were gone a lot even before things changed, but he stills misses them."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but New Orleans is a lot closer than Afghanistan. If the rivers are still mostly clear, I could probably make the trip and back in a few days."

Clementine took a breath. "My parents went on vacation to Savannah before the walkers, and after that I ended up in Macon, which was about half-way across Georgia. I spent months just wanting to go there, to find them, and we did eventually go to Savannah."

"I'm guessing you didn't find them," said Devlin.

"Not then, but I wanted to keep looking anyway. Savannah was a big city, and I thought even if we didn't find them, we might find out where they went, or maybe a message they left me, or…" Clem bit her lip as he thought back to that dark day. "I didn't want to leave, so instead, I trusted someone I shouldn't have and… almost everyone else I knew died because they didn't leave when they had the chance."

"Who was this person you shouldn't have trusted?"

"A man who pretended to be my friend and lied to me," recalled Clem, unable to conceal the bitterness in her voice. "He said my parents were still alive and he could take me to them, but they were already dead."

"I'm sorry," said Devlin. "But it sounds like he's the reason the people you knew died."

"He was," stated Clem in a stern voice. "But, thinking about it now, even if he hadn't of been there, I might have went out to look for my parents anyway, because I couldn't stop thinking about them."

"It can't be easy for a kid your age to be separated from her parents," spoke a sympathetic Devlin. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

"I don't, at least not anymore. But it does make me think about how lucky I am, for all the people who care about me and take care of me that are still here."

"I understand what you're saying and don't worry, I'm not gonna run off on ya," assured Devlin. "If you and Jet can tough it out, then so can I."

"You don't have to be tough all the time," assured Clem. "It's okay if you miss your friend." Devlin laughed a little. "What?"

"Just you being worried about me when it feels like it should be the other way around; I'm the adult."

"That's what Patty said once when I was trying to make her feel better. Adults get sad too, all the time in fact."

"Just feels like it should be other adults who shoulder the burden instead of Sarah getting Anthony to drag this stuff up here and you having to listen to my troubles because you're worried about me; you two kids have enough responsibility as it is with taking care of that baby without adding me to your list."

"I've had to do a lot of things kids shouldn't do," said Clem with a shrug. "I don't think talking to people who feel bad is one of them."

"Well, I think you've done enough talking for today; thanks Clem." Devlin finally cracked a slight smile, which made Clem smile. "If you or Sarah ever need anything, just come see me."

"Actually, I was wondering if you knew where Sarah went."

"She was looking for stuff for your baby," said Devlin as he stood up. "A lot of the toys and the like in the stores we gave away to any family who wanted them, but we saved some for the orphanage."

Clem followed Devlin across the rooftop and back towards where the ladder was. "We turned the chain of stores across from here into some rooms for the kids who lost their parents." Devlin gestured at two sets of small stores in the middle of the parking lot between the far ends of the shopping center. "Ones of the right were for the older kids, ones on the left the younger ones. I heard her and Anthony moving something around down there earlier, so they must have found something they liked."

"Thanks Devlin."

As Clem climbed back down, she heard music start playing from the roof, which made her smile. Reaching the ground, Clem grabbed her bike, choosing just to walk it the short distance over to the nearest shop. Looking at the signs, Clem could see there were a couple of restaurants, a nail salon, a couple of electronic stores, and a UPS store. Moving to the nearest shop, Clem could read 'smashburger' written over the entrance, but pushing past the front door, she found anything but a restaurant inside.

There were no tables or booths to be found, but there were tons of long linens hanging from crude hooks fastened to the ceiling, forming separate spaces like in an emergency room, except these curtains were much more colorful. Moving to the back of the area, Clem found a counter and pieces of what used to be a kitchen, as well as the bathrooms, the only remaining clues that this used to be a restaurant.

With no sign of Sarah, Clem headed back to the entrance. She briefly stopped by one of the bunks. Peeking past the curtain, Clem discovered a small bed inside and a matching dresser. Pulling open one of the colorful drawers, she found clothes that appeared a little too small even for her. Turning away from the dresser, she spotted some papers lying at the foot of the bed.

Picking them up, Clem could see they were crayon drawings. They were crude and simple, reminding Clem a lot of the ones she used to make. The first picture was of a blue house with four stick figures standing by it; two short, two tall. The next picture appeared to be random pieces of food drawn across the page. Clem recognized what was clearly supposed to be a piece of swiss cheese and a watermelon, but the rest of the shapes were much harder to make out.

The next drawing was even more abstract, being an odd arrangement of hastily drawn shapes. Clem couldn't be sure what she was looking at, just that a bunch of dark shapes were surrounding a smaller yellow shape in the middle. The last page was just covered in black marks that filled the entire sheet of paper. Looking in between the marks, Clem could see there was something else drawn underneath, but whatever it was she couldn't tell anymore.

Thinking back to the girl she saw amongst the hundreds of walkers they had killed to reach this place, Clem felt a sense of overwhelming pity for the children that must have lived here before. As she set the drawings down and headed out of the bunk, she couldn't help eyeing every bed as she moved towards the exits, silently counting how many there were. Clem didn't know if that girl she had seen ever lived her, but many other children had.

Searching the other stores provided Clem with no leads to where Sarah had gone. She found more crudely made bunks for children, and more amenities for them. The two buildings in the middle lacked beds and were more like daycares, stocked with tons of toys and other fun playthings that even now Clem felt a slight urge to play with herself, while the last two buildings had more bunks for small children.

It donned on Clem she had never met anyone younger than herself since the outbreak. The only exception was Omid, and she and Sarah both had to work hard to keep him alive. The only other children she knew were dead now, and the next youngest person she knew was Sarah, and they both had more than their fair share of close calls in their time together. But crossing past the wrecked remains of the tank stalled in-between the two types of orphanages just made Clem realize how many more horrible situations they had been been fortunate enough to avoid.

Arriving at the first of the buildings assigned to older kids, Clem found largely the same as she did in the previous stores. The beds were bigger, she found magazines instead of drawings, the curtains were less colorful, and the books had fewer pictures, but the bunks were largely the same. Instead of a daycare, there were three small stores in the middle rebuilt into what Clem could only assume were hangout spots for the children living here.

The left one had TV's and headphones set up all over the place, along with various DVD players and game consoles hooked up to them. The next one simply had racks of clothes set out, even though it wasn't a clothing store. Clem stopped to briefly browse their wares only to find the outfits were all too big for her. And the last store had been made into an indoor basketball court, with hoops attached to different ends of the area and everything in-between cleared out. Looking at the floor, Clem could even see small holes were tables used to be bolted to the ground.

With still no clues to where Sarah was, Clem approached the final building in this cluster of stores. The sign outside read 'Mattress King', and stepping inside, she found more of the same. Eyeing the many bunks she passed, Clem noticed they were larger than the others she had seen, possibly because this store was bigger than the last few, but otherwise there was nothing of interest.

"Now what?"

"Now what what?" Clem nearly jumped out of her skin upon hearing that and spun around to find Anthony suddenly sitting up on a bed behind her. "Whoa, why the hell are you wearing dreamcatchers?"

"They're earrings," retorted Clem.

"Could have fooled me."

Clem glared at Anthony. "What are you doing here?"

"Testing beds," he answered. "Figured the best ones wouldn't have been hauled too far from the mattress store.

"Why are you testing beds?"

"The one in my camper is getting worn out, figured now was a good time to upgrade."

"But why are you testing them? Aren't they all the same?"

"Not hardly. When you spend as much time as me without knowing where you're going to sleep, you learn to appreciate the difference between lying on a fine mattress and some crappy ass futon," said Anthony as he stood up. "Your basic spring mattresses might seem like they're good enough, but once you've tried a foam mattress, you'll never go back if you can help it." Clem watched as the man threw himself onto another bed and just laid there quietly for a moment. "But what I'd really like would be a waterbed."

"A waterbed?"

"You never heard of a waterbed?"

"No."

"Well, I've only been in one myself. I think they're kind of a retro thing," said Anthony. "Man, it feels like sleeping on the ocean."

"The bed's not actually made out of water though, right?" asked Clem, trying her best not to sound foolish.

"No it is," said Anthony.

"It's a bed made out of water?"

"Well, filled with water, like a big balloon."

"And you sleep on it?"

"Hell yeah, like I said, you're sleeping on the ocean. It moves under you, like it's rocking you to sleep. There's nothing else out there like it. I was hoping to find a waterbed here, but no dice."

"You sure know a lot about beds."

"You spend a third of your life sleeping, so where you sleep should be a top priority. It's a shame I didn't think to come here sooner," said Anthony as he stood up. "Besides, I'm bored. Got sick of breaking things the day before yesterday."

"Breaking things?" repeated Clem. "What were you breaking?"

"I started with empty bottles and some other garbage behind the Sam's Club before I found some plates and glasses at one of the restaurants."

"Why… why were you breaking those?" asked a confused Clem.

"It's fun, especially the plates; you throw them at just the right angle and they practically explode when they hit the wall." Clem stared at Anthony in confusion. "Oh come on, you never get pissed off and just wanted to hit something?"

"There have been a few times I felt like that… they weren't fun."

"Probably because you didn't hit the right thing," suggested Anthony. "Don't act you don't know what I'm talking about. Back in Baton Rouge, I could tell you enjoyed killing those people who came up on the bridge."

"They were walkers, and like, only for a second," argued Clem.

"You should try enjoying it longer, you won't regret it." Anthony had a weird smile on his face that made Clem feel uneasy. "Come on, I can show you some nice plates that are just waiting to be smashed."

"That's okay…" said Clem as politely as she could. "I was just trying to find Sarah."

"Oh, after we finished bringing the military man his stuff, I helped her drag some things from the kids' sections into the Books-a-Million to keep your baby happy," said Anthony as he moved towards another bunk. "Seemed like she planned to spend a lot of time there."

"Why?" asked Clem. "She's already brought back tons of books to the Brave. How many more does she need?"

"Got me. I told her it'd be easier for me to grab the books she wants and drag them home than drag stuff in there, but she insisted." Anthony threw himself onto another bed. "She's acting like someone died lately. You should tell her to loosen up; we hit the jackpot."

"Yeah, I'll do that," said Clem half-heartedly as she left the mattress store. The Books-a-Million was just across from her, so Clem quickly biked over to the front entrance. Parked outside was a shopping cart with a tiny plastic driver's seat built onto the front of it. It was an odd sight, with the top being a metal cart and the bottom being a red and yellow toy car with plastic steering wheels in front of the tiny seats. The pair had been using it anytime they needed to move Omid around the shopping center. It was easier than carrying him as well more fun for Omid than being carried.

Knowing Sarah must be inside, Clem removed her helmet and grabbed the bag with the dress from the handlebars. The bookstore had faired slightly better than most of the other stores. Devlin said they had used it as a library, and even added books to it by offering to trade the ones in the store for older books people had in their homes. As such, the shelves were fully stocked with books, old and new.

Walking down the aisles, stepping over piles of books that had never been cleaned up, Clem found herself frustrated she still couldn't find Sarah. She was just about to call out for her friend when she heard a familiar giggling in the distance. Following the noise, the laughter became unmistakeable as Omid's. Hearing him laughing made Clem want to giggle a little herself, and stepping out past a few shelves, she found the noise growing louder as she approached a corner dedicated to a now defunct snack bar.

"OJ…" teased Clem as she eyed past the edge of the counter. "Where are you?" Inching in closer, Clem discovered there was an entire collection of toys surrounding a small plastic pool full of brightly colored plastic balls. "OJ…" Clem could hear him giggling as a few balls near the center of the pit moved slightly as she inched over to edge of the pool. "I wonder where he could be?" Clementine dropped the dress and thrust her hands into the ball pit. A loud squealing sounded as Clem's hands grabbed onto something soft and squirming. "Found you!" Clem pulled Omid out of the ball pit, prompting the boy to laugh uncontrollably as she held him in the air. "Who's my sneaky little boy?"

"Sah-duh!"

"Huh?" Clem looked over her shoulder to see Sarah approaching. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Why, what's wrong?" asked Sarah.

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to see you." Clem placed Omid back in the ball pit while Sarah set some books down on the counter. "It sounds like you've been all over the place. Getting stuff from the Target, then bringing it to Devlin before—"

"I just wanted to do something nice for him since he's always up there all alone," said Sarah without looking up from her book. "But I don't know if he even cared about the things we brought him."

"Well, I talked to him, and I think he feels better now," said Clem. "And I think what you did helped too."

"Really?" asked a dubious Sarah.

"Yeah. Just as I was leaving, I heard him turn on the CD player you brought him."

"You did?" Clem nodded. "That's great." Sarah smiled, then turned back to her book.

"Guess what else happened?" asked Clem.

"What?"

"I finally rode a bike today without training wheels."

"That's great Clem," said Sarah as she thumbed through a different book.

"You gotta learn how too, it's so much fun."

"Maybe later." Sarah jotted something down in her notebook.

"Then I got some new earrings," said Clem as she tilted her head. "Do you think they look good with my new jacket?"

Sarah briefly turned towards Clem, then turned back to a book. "They look fine I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm just… not big on earrings," said Sarah without looking up. "I still can't believe you let Patty pierce your ears. Didn't it hurt?"

"A bit for a little while. It didn't hurt nearly as much as a lot of other things that have happened to me," dismissed Clem. "You should let her pierce your ears too, then we could all go pick out earrings together."

"No thanks." Clem found herself at a loss for words. Sarah was completely engulfed in whatever she was reading and barely noticing Clem. Seeing little point in staying, Clem started to leave before spotting the shopping bag sitting on the ground.

"I know you don't like dresses," said Clem as she removed the dress from the bag. "But I thought you could use one in case you ever wanted to look nice, like for a party or something, and I think this one would be perfect for you."

Sarah was glued to her book, so Clem unfolded the dress and held it up. It looked like a good fit for Sarah but Clem couldn't be sure, so she inched forward and pressed the straps up against Sarah's shoulders. The dress seemed to neatly line up with Sarah's body, or it did until Sarah tried to turn around and nearly bumped into Clem.

"Um… what are you doing?" asked a confused Sarah.

"I just wanted to see if this dress would fit you," said Clem.

"Why, you know I don't like wearing dresses."

"I know that; I just said that."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was right behind you," said Clem. "You didn't hear me?"

"Sorry, I'm just kind of busy with this," said Sarah as she turned back to her notebook.

"Doing what?" Clem glanced at the page Sarah was writing on and saw a long series of numbers scrawled across it in every direction.

"Just… something. I'm still in the middle of it, I'll tell you later."

"Well, okay," spoke a disappointed Clem. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"It's Valentine's Day?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah."

"I forgot all about that," admitted Sarah as she picked up a different book.

"Oh… okay." Seeing Sarah was pre-occupied with whatever she was reading, Clem let the dress drop onto the floor and turned away.

"Clem, wait."

"Yeah," said Clem as she turned around expectedly.

"Do you think you can take Omid for a while?" asked Sarah. "I've got a lot I want to do and it'd go faster if you watched him."

"Oh, sure." Clem sighed, then went to collect Omid. She found Elma amongst the toys and gave it to him. "I'll take OJ back to the Sam's Club."

"Thanks, I'll see you at lunch."

"See ya." Clem carried Omid back outside. She seated him in the toy plastic seat under the cart, then placed Elma right next to him in the other seat, much to Omid's approval. "Okay, buckle up."

"Bup-bup!" Omid slapped his hands against his plastic steering wheel and Clem pushed the cart forward. She was disappointed to leave her bike behind, but listening to Omid's joyful giggles helped offset the loss. She made sure to occasionally make a sharp left or right turn, just to get a rise out of Omid, which it always did. As they closed in on the Sam's Club, Clem spotted Patty rolling a cart of goods out the front door and towards the Brave.

"Ahh, check out the little man driving himself around," said Patty as she knelt down to look at Omid. "You enjoying the open road?"

"Oh-roh!" repeated Omid as he twisted his wheel around wildly.

"I think he loves it as much as I love riding my new bike," said Clem.

"We'll have to get him a tricycle someday."

"Why not today?" suggested Clem.

"Nah, I think you usually need to around three years old before you can handle a trike; we had to block off the bottom of this thing just to keep him from falling out," said Patty. "How long until he hits his first birthday?"

"It's Valentine's Day now, so his birthday is in two weeks… or two weeks and a day."

"You're not sure?"

"Well, Sarah said the day he was born was February twenty-eighth, but because it was really late at night it might have been past midnight, which would mean he was actually born the next day, and Sarah said it might have been a leap year that year, so…"

"So it's kind of a mess."

"Sarah said it's probably best to just have his birthday on March first."

"Well, I'll be looking forward to it." As Patty took hold of her cart, Clem noticed it was loaded with numerous automobile products and even a couple of car batteries.

"Is all that to fix the Brave?" asked a concerned Clem.

"Nah, I'm done with the tune-up, and I think the old girl will be fine for the time being. This is all just backup stuff for later, and this time I'm storing it inside." Patty's face twisted slightly as she looked directly at Clem. "I uh… I see you got your earrings."

"Do you like them?"

"Um…"

"You don't."

"Sorry partner, they're pretty tacky." Clem frowned in response. "Not trying to be mean, but I'd be a lousy friend if I didn't give you honest fashion advice."

"Well, thanks for that," said Clem as she carefully removed her earrings.

"Don't get down, we'll pick you out some better ones after lunch." Clem smiled upon hearing that. "Speaking of which, I think Sin could use a hand with the cooking, and you're our best chef."

"Got it." Clementine pushed Omid into the Sam's Club, moving past the area full of carts and into the actual store. She had grown to enjoy her visits here, with the group normally convening for their meals at the concessions area. They'd often talk with each other and make plans for how they would spend their day. It was like sorta being back home and having family meals again.

Moving past the collection of tires and automobile products stored just to the right of the entrance, Clem spotted the familiar rows of red and white benches lined up in front of the store's built-in restaurant. Her eyes wandered up towards the large signs running over the area that advertised pizzas, pretzels, and hot dogs. As big an improvement as the food in Tulsa was, Clem found it hard not to look at those ads and want to eat the things on them instead.

"Clementine." Turning her gaze back downward, she spotted Sin standing by the series of caged shelves that ran beside the benches, removing one of their propane tanks. "I'm afraid lunch won't be ready for a little while."

"It's okay, I came by to help," said Clem as she pushed the cart closer to the kitchen.

"Hmm, even when you take time off as our cook you came by to check on me," noted Sin as he carried a propane tank back towards the small kitchen tucked behind the concessions' checkout counter. "Well, I probably could use it, I'm not much of a chef."

Clem watched as Sin set the propane tank on the ground and started attaching it to a hose that ran to a burner positioned under a large pot. "I grabbed this by mistake." Sin picked up what Clem thought was a coffee can. "Cajun peanuts instead of the regular kind." Sin set the container on the counter, revealing it to be not a coffee tin but an incredibly wide can with the words 'boiled peanuts' written on the side. "Would you mind getting me a normal can? It's at the back of the store on the left hand side; they have a green label instead of red."

"Sure. Just let me put OJ in his playpen first."

"Oh, that reminds me. Omid doesn't have a peanut allergy does he?"

"No."

"That's good, hard to make a peanut sauce without them," said Sin. "Hard to make it with boiled peanuts too, but I'm going to try."

Clem pushed the cart past the concessions area, arriving at an open spot where there was fairly lavish looking lawn furniture surrounding a small wooden canopy. Clem wasn't sure where any of this stuff had come from, but she knew the plastic playhouse walled in by cartons of unopened copy paper was their own recent addition. "Okay now," said Clem as she placed Omid inside. "You be good while I help Sin make lunch."

"El-muh," pleaded Omid.

"Here you go," said Clem as she passed Omid his favorite stuffed animal.

"El-muh," he repeated as he tightly gripped the tiny stuffed pachyderm.

"You play with Elma and I'll be back in a little bit."

Clem grabbed the can Sin set out, finding it took both hands to carry it, then hurried further into the store. As she moved, she looked out at the various other foods they had left to choose from. As plentiful as it all was, Clem couldn't help noticing that large parts of the building were empty. The aisles were multi-layered industrial shelves that looked more at home in a warehouse than in a store. But only the section under the bottom shelves ever had any food left, with pallets of mixed goods safely tucked away under most of them; all the shelves above them were empty. It was still more food than Clem had seen in a very long time, but all the empty space above it served as a constant reminder of how much more there used to be.

Locating the boiled peanuts, Clem double checked to make sure she had the correct kind, then hurried them back to Sin. She mostly let the man work on his own, only helping to prepare ingredients briefly before letting him take over. Clem mostly kept herself busy getting ready everything else they needed. She set out bowls, plates, napkins, and silverware, then filled cups and pitchers with water. Next, she used instant mix products to create tea, chocolate, and even coffee for Patty using a mug of hot water Sin had boiled. As Sin finished up in the kitchen, Clem selected a couple of cans of oranges to be their fruit for today's meal.

"So, is lunch ready yet?" asked Anthony as he strolled into the area.

"Almost," said Sin from the kitchen.

"You can have some oranges while you wait," said Clem as she removed the lid from the first can. "And—"

"And you mixed our favorite drinks," said Anthony as he looked at the cup of chocolate milk on the table in front of him. "That's the kind of service I like to see."

"Lunch will be ready in a minute," said Sin from behind the counter. "Why don't you go get Omid?"

"Right." Clem finished opening the cans of oranges, then hurried over to the playpen. She moved in to grab Omid, only for him to run off towards the playhouse. Watching him climb the plastic ramp to get inside, Clem snuck around to the other side and waited. As soon as Omid reached the top of the ramp, she burst in and grabbed him. "I gotcha!"

"Kem-men!" squealed Omid as she carried him back to the concessions area.

"Here ya go," said Clem as she set the boy in the high chair placed next to one of the benches. "Why don't you start off with some oranges?"

"Mah-bah," said Omid before Clem fed him a spoonful of oranges.

"I never really played poker before." Clem turned her head to see Patty and Jet walking together.

"Well hell, next time Clem and I play you can jump in." The pair sat down across from each other while Devlin slowly marched in from behind them. "You know, I used to hate places like this; crowded, dirty, full of walls of crap nobody needed," said Patty as her hand moved right to the coffee Clem had prepared. "But these days, this place feels downright cozy compared to a lot of places we've been lately."

"Thank the Chief," said Devlin as he sat down. "Once she got a good look at this place, she declared this our new command center. The funny thing is we didn't actually have to change all that much. That weird ass cabana thing and its furniture we used for our morning meetings was already here, we just rearranged it. Same goes for all those tires and stuff next to the entrance, this place just had that built in already."

"Probably because they found it as convenient as I did to wheel stuff right out to a vehicle you need to work on," said Patty before sipping her coffee.

"You probably haven't even looked at forklifts in the back of this place yet. There's a whole fleet of them back there, as well as what was basically a maintenance area for them to be worked on. We got a lot of use out of them when we still had power since they're all electric. Then there's the pharmacy which had built in shutters, and that chain link cage around the tobacco section was already there as well. This place was already pretty secure, we just appropriated it."

"Yeah, going back to the tobacco aisle," said Anthony. "You mentioned you also stored the alcohol back there."

"Yeah, so?" asked Devlin.

"So, there any chance we can get some beer after lunch?"

"Make that two," added Patty.

"Just ask me after lunch." Clem felt tempted to ask Devlin for something to drink too, but decided to hold off for now.

"Mah! Mah!" Clem turned to see Omid reaching for the sippy cup resting on the bench. She had wanted to wait for lunch to start before giving it to him, but reasoned it wouldn't hurt if he got it earlier. "Mah-bah," he said before sampling the chocolate milk inside, prompting Clem to take a sip from her own cup. Clem wagered the instant mix chocolate milk was a poor substitute for the real thing, but it had been so long since she tasted any kind of milk that didn't come in powder form it was hard for her to judge.

"Oh, and after lunch, could you check to see if they have anything for headaches left in the pharmacy?" asked Patty. "I've had a migraine off and on all this week."

"After lunch," repeated Devlin as he stirred his sweet tea with a straw.

"You know, if you just gave us the keys or left those areas unlocked, we wouldn't have to bother you every time we wanted something," reminded Anthony.

"Yeah, come on, it's not like we're alcoholics," assured Patty.

"Oh no, I saw enough people drowning their sorrows or worse to deal with this shit as it is," insisted Devlin. "Enough stress and an ample supply of something that kills stress can turn anyone into an addict, and things are plenty stressful right now; I didn't start smoking until I came to Tulsa. Like I said, talk to me after lunch and I'll give you something in moderation."

"Speaking of which, is lunch ever coming?" Anthony said in the direction of the kitchen.

"I'll be right there," retorted Sin in a harsh voice.

"These benches are bolted to the ground," noted Jet before turning to Devlin. "That means they were already here too, right?"

"Yep, like I said, Chief figured this place already had a lot of things we could use for a command center, it just needed some tweaking. After getting a good look at concessions, she told us to rip out those electronic cookers, stick in the gas grills, and turn those cages used for layaway items into storage for propane tanks because this was our new mess hall," said Devlin as he gestured around him. "Although, that grill thing kind of bit us in the ass later when we got the power back on."

"Well we don't have power anymore," said Sin as he placed a large pot on one of the benches. "So it's working to our advantage now." Sin retrieved a second, smaller pot from the kitchen, then started spooning out lunch into everyone's bowls. One pot had noodles while the other had a thick sauce or stew Sin poured on top of the noodles.

"So what is this stuff?" asked Anthony as he examined his meal.

"Noodles with spicy peanut sauce," said Sin

"Oh, like Grandma used to make?" asked an eager Jet.

"The closest I could get without fresh ingredients, and without your grandmother to cook it."

"Wait, I thought you didn't want the spicy peanuts?" asked Clem.

"I didn't, the spice comes from other things," said Sin with a smirk.

"I never thought I'd get to try Thai food after everything fell apart," said Patty with a smirk as she picked up a fork.

"I'll take just about anything at this point that's more elaborate than spooning something out of a damn can," said Anthony before swallowing a spoonful of noodles..

"Well," said Sin as he filled his own bowl. "I guess we're ready to eat."

"Wait, where's Sarah?" asked Clem.

"I'm here," called Sarah as she hurried to join the others. "I'm sorry I'm late." As Sarah sat down across from her, Clem detected a fair amount of anxiety stewing just behind her eyes. Maybe it was how her glasses framed her face, but she didn't look scared so much as worried about something. But about what Clem couldn't say. "I just kind of lost track of time."

"Really?" asked Patty. "You're the only one of us who wears a watch anymore." Devlin cleared his throat. "Well, you and Devlin."

Unable to wait any longer herself, Clem dug into Sin's dish. She found the noodles a little hard to chew, almost like they were undercooked. The vegetables and peanuts in the sauce were a little better and helped to offset the noodles, but their texture was very mushy by comparison. The spices in the dish however felt at odds with each other, giving the dish an odd flavor.

Looking at the others, Clem saw conflicted expressions on their faces that reflected her own mixed feelings. It wasn't a bad meal, just not a great one. Turning to Omid, Clem fished a few noodles out of her bowl, mused up a small piece of them, then feed it to Omid.

"Nuh!" he yelled as he spat out the piece.

"OJ no! You barely tried it," scolded Clem as she mushed up another piece. "Sin worked hard to make this, you can at least eat one bite." Clem moved her spoon closer, but Omid swatted it away.

"Nuh!" he yelled.

"No!" said Clem before turning to Sin. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he assured with a sigh. "I don't think this is my finest work either."

"It's good," said Jet, his words sounding forced out of his mouth. "Just…"

"Not as good as Grandma's?" Jet nodded. "Even if I had fresh ingredients, I think it'd be a far cry from her cooking."

"It's fine man," said Patty with a warm smile. "How lucky are we that we can even be picky about what we eat, right?"

Clem noticed Sarah flinching slightly upon hearing that. She hadn't said a word since sitting down and didn't even seem interested in eating. "What's wrong?"

"It's… it's nothing," insisted Sarah as she stirred the noodles in her bowl.

"Tell me," pleaded Clem. "What's bothering you?"

Sarah stopped stirring and took a breath. "This food is only going to last two years." Everyone stopped eating and turned to Sarah. "I… um… Devlin let me look at the list they made the last time they took inventory, before they were attacked, and it already broke up most of this stuff into servings, so I added those up and averaged everything we've been eating lately and…" Sarah noticed everyone staring at her, prompting her to turn away in embarrassment. "The food will last two years…" she repeated.

"Jeez Sarah, you say that like it's bad news," said Patty. "I mean, two years of not having to hunt for food means—"

"We'll just have to hunt for it all over again in two years," stated Sarah.

"Yeah, in two years," said Patty.

"In two years there will be no food left to find," declared Sarah.

"Oh come on, there's no way you could possibly know that," argued Anthony.

"I know a lot of this stuff is already past its expiration dates," retorted Sarah. "And I know everything I've looked at will expire in under two years."

"It doesn't always expire," reasoned Clem. "We eat lots of things past the date on the cans, and they're okay."

"Yeah, and a lot of stuff uses 'best by' dates," added Jet. "They don't expire on those dates, that's just when they're at their best, but they're still safe to eat afterwards."

"But for how much longer?" challenged Sarah. "If that's the date they're best by, that just means they're gonna get worse after that. How long until we can't eat them?"

"She has a point," said Sin. "I won't make excuses for being a lousy cook, but even I can't mess up boiling noodles; they went stale, even while still packaged."

"And there's got to be other people out there still looking for food. We're not the only ones who know about using the lurker smell to get past them. In two years, there probably won't be any big stores full of food left for us to find because other people will have eaten it all by then."

"Jesus Sarah, you're really bumming me out here," said Patty. "I mean, you're talking about stuff we have no control over; there isn't anything we can do about it."

"There's something we can do,” said Devlin as he turned his head slowly and looked over at Sarah. "You got some kind of plan, don't ya?"

"Well… yeah. I mean, I haven't figured out everything but…"

"It's okay," said Clem as she placed her hand on Sarah's. "Just tell us."

"We… we need to start a farm," said Sarah with as much authority as she could muster. "And we need to start one soon."

"A farm?" repeated Jet.

"There's a lot of things I still want to do," said Anthony. "Farming isn't one of them."

"And what do you mean we need to start soon?" asked Patty. "You just said we had two years of food, and we just got here a couple of weeks ago."

"It'll be spring soon," said Sarah. "If we don't start making plans now we'll come into the growing season late."

"You say that like you're already a farmer," noted Sin, a certain harshness in his voice. "Do you have the slightest idea of how hard farming really is?"

"Just a bit," admitted Sarah. "Clem and I tried growing a garden last summer. It was really hard, and we didn't even grow that much food."

"And now you want to build a farm?" asked a baffled Sin. "Do you have any idea how much we'd have to grow just to keep ourselves feed?"

"There's eight of us, including Omid. If we ate a single fruit or vegetable at every meal of every day, that's twenty-four a day, and after three-hundred and sixty-five days, that'd be—"

"Nearly nine-thousand for a single year," finished Sin.

"Yeah, and we'd need to grow more than that actually, a lot more, because just one fruit or vegetable wouldn't be enough since we'd all be working more and we'd need to eat more."

"And you want to try and grow that much food?" asked Sin. "After trying to manage a garden, something you admit was difficult, you want to move onto something that's roughly equivalent to growing a thousand gardens at once?"

"No…" admitted Sarah in a quiet voice. "But I don't see any other choice. The food is going to run out eventually, that's a fact; what are we going to do when that happens?"

An uneasy silence filled the air as everyone pondered Sarah's question. Clem herself had no answers, and looking around at the others, it became apparent they didn't either. Even Sin, despite being the most outspoken against a farm just now, appeared frustrated that he had no response.

"Ah-bree." Omid waved his empty cup in the air.

"Okay, but one only more cup," said Clem as she spooned instant mix chocolate into Omid's sippy cup. "And that's it for today." Clem poured in some water, mixed it until it turned a solid brown, then screwed the lid back onto the cup.

"Okay, I think you've made your point Sarah," admitted Patty. "But if we got two years of food, then why do we need to start soon? Can't we start next year?"

"It might take us two years just to get good at farming," said Sarah. "If we start this year, and mess up, we'll have enough food leftover to try again next year. If we wait until later, we'd only have one chance to get it right."

"Assuming we get it right at all," said Anthony. "I mean, I did some odd jobs working as a butcher's assistant, but I don't know shit about farming."

"I picked some oranges when I was in Valkaria," said Clementine. "And there's the garden we grew, but that's it."

"Why don't you just ask Granddad what to do?" suggested Jet. "He was a farmer."

Sin and Jet swapped looks of irritation before Sin turned back to the rest of the group. "We might not be able to get it right even in two seasons," he stated. "My parents were second-generation farmers, and our family still struggled to make ends meet. A farm demands whole seasons of back-breaking labor, and we'll be at the mercy of things we can't control. Something as simple as a long enough drought can devastate an entire crop."

Sin suddenly turned to Jet. "And for the record, my experience farming ended about forty years ago, and the thing I remember most about it is never wanting to do it again." Jet turned away while Sin looked at Sarah next. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any brilliant insights into agriculture that'll help us; I don't think any of us do."

"That's why I've been reading a lot lately," said Sarah. "There's books on how long it takes to grow certain plants, what kind of soil they need, how to harvest their seeds."

"We have seeds actually," interjected Devlin. "We had been storing them at the hardware store for when we'd eventually start our own farms."

"I know, and we'll need those, but they'll run out too eventually, so we'll need to be collecting new seeds as well," informed Sarah.

"Okay, this is getting more complicated by the second," said Anthony. "I mean… how the hell do you get seeds from say, an onion, or a carrot?"

"You let them grow for two years and they'll make a flower with seeds in it," informed Sarah. "Then you collect them."

"Which one, onions or carrots?" asked Patty.

"Both."

"They both have to grow for two years before you can harvest them for seeds?" asked Jet in disbelief.

"Yes, it's one more reason we should start a farm this year," said Sarah. "A lot of stuff we'll need to do will take time, and we'll only have less of that if we wait."

"As much as I love onions, I could live without them," reasoned Anthony. "Why not just grow stuff like cucumbers? I know where the seeds on them come from."

"Cucumber seeds won't grow if you don't harvest right," said Sarah. "You have to let them grow until they get mushy, then put the mush in a bucket and stir it every day until the good seeds sink to the bottom."

"Wait, what?" asked a baffled Patty.

"It's… it's complicated, I'm still reading about how to do it right." Sarah turned to Sin suddenly.

"I don't know anything about harvesting seeds," he said. "My family just bought bags of them at the store; I never thought to ask where they came from."

"Neither did I until recently," admitted Sarah. "Just from what I read, it's complicated. You have to make sure they're pollinated, and that they don't pollinate with the wrong thing or themselves or the seed might not grow."

"Themselves?" repeated Jet. "So… plants can inbreed? And if they do, the inbred seeds don't grow?"

"For some plants, yeah," said Sarah. "Some plants do self-pollinate, and they're okay."

"We're having a discussion about incestuous plants now," realized a dismayed Sin.

"Incestuous Plants would be a killer name for a band," said Anthony.

"Do we even need to be talking about this?" asked Patty. "People are out there looking for food, but there's probably tons of seeds still left around the country. I mean, we never even went looking for them. We probably passed tons of farmer's markets loaded with bags of seeds, so do we really need to be worried about which plants can and can't screw their cousins?"

"Seeds only stay good for so long," informed Sarah. "Like a lot of food, most of them will go bad after a few years."

"Man this shit is complicated," mumbled Anthony as he scratched his head. "How the hell did we ever have so much food before?"

"There was an infrastructure in place before," said Sin. "Someone else harvested seeds so others could concentrate on just growing them; division of labor."

"You mean like hiring people for pennies an hour to harvest crops?" groused Devlin as he crossed his arms. "I guess that was a step up from just forcing them to do it for free." Devlin's words made Clem think back to her time at Shaffer's, and how hard she was forced to work so others could live comfortably.

"They don't pay farmers themselves well either," added Sin. "That's why many farms are usually subsidized by the government, to keep food prices low. Even then, most of this country's food was probably being grown at large corporate farms that could afford complex irrigation systems, pesticides, and large-scale farm equipment. I don't know how much, if any of that we can reasonably use at this point."

"Sarah, this sounds really hard," spoke a concerned Clem. "I know we're gonna have to do something when the food runs out, but are you sure you want it to be this? I mean, just working at Shaffer's those few weeks was pretty bad, and they usually gave us easier stuff because we were young."

"I… well… I'm—"

"Ah-bree." Clementine looked at Omid as he waved his empty cup in the air again. Clem took the cup, but hesitated refilling it. Instead, she put the lid on the container of chocolate mix and flipped it over. Printed on the bottom in barely legible ink was a date. After briefly counting years in her head, Clem sighed as she realized the chocolate mix was only a couple of months away from expiring. It also dawned on her, with another spring approaching, it'll have been two whole years since the walkers arrived.

"Ah-bree!" demanded Omid and as he banged his hands on the highchair's table.

"OJ, no, you've already gotten enough chocolate today," said Clem as she loaded some oranges onto a spoon. "Why not eat some nice—"

"Ah-bree!" Omid clamped his mouth shut the second Clem moved the spoon forward.

"Here," said Sarah as she handed the cup to Clem. "I filled it with water, but there was still a tiny bit of chocolate left, so maybe it'll taste close enough that'll he'll drink it."

"All right, here you go." Clem handed the cup to the toddler. Omid took one sip from it before tossing it on the ground. "OJ, no!"

"Nuh!" refuted Omid.

"Omid no!" scolded Sarah.

"You got enough chocolate already," insisted Clem as she picked up the cup. "More will make you sick, so just drink your water." Clem moved the cup towards Omid and he turned his head away in protest.

"Nuh! Nuh!" he said defiantly.

"Then you don't get anything else to drink." Clem pulled the cup away, which prompted Omid to start crying. Clem tried to ignore him, but she couldn't and gave the toddler his cup back. He took one sip off it, then tossed it back on the ground again. "Nuh-huh-huh!" Omid broke down crying again, prompting Sarah to pick him up.

"It's okay," she assured as started cradling the infant. "It'll be okay."

"I wish we still had fresh oranges," lamented Clem as she watched Sarah try to coddle Omid. "I tried making orange juice from the canned ones after we got here, but it just doesn't taste right and Omid won't drink it. He’ll eat them but he won’t drink juice made from them and I don’t know why."

"They probably add preservatives or treat them to last longer, maybe it’s more noticeable as a juice" suggested Sin.

"That reminds me of something else we'll have to learn how to do," realized Sarah. "Can or jar our own food to last through the winter when we can't grow anything."

"You're pretty dead set on us starting a farm," realized Patty.

"Even though none of us know what the hell to do," added Anthony.

"What else can we do?" asked Sarah. "Does anyone else have a plan?"

"I talked a little with Devlin about what we should do if we ever needed to leave Tulsa," said Patty. "We both heard rumors about the West Coast. We don't really believe them but—"

"We literally have no idea where else to go at this point," finished Devlin with a shrug.

"We could always do that later if the farm doesn't work out," said Sarah.

"I guess we could always go back to Houston," said Jet. "But—"

"We left because it was probably going to collapse soon too," reminded Sin as he shook his head.

"We could just stay here and enjoy two years of easy living," suggested Anthony as he leaned back in his seat. "I mean, with the ways things are, a couple of years is pretty good."

"I want more than a couple of years," demanded Sarah in a surprisingly stern voice. "I want to see Omid grow up and be happy. I want him to live as long as me—longer than me. And that will never happen if we don't start thinking about the future. We have a chance, right now, to make something that will last longer than a couple of years, and we might never get it again."

Clementine looked at Omid, still sobbing softly as he fidgeted in Sarah's arms. After Sarah returned the toddler to his highchair, Clem scooped some oranges onto a spoon and tried feeding him again, but Omid wasn't interested. Looking at the chunk of congealed fruit sitting on the spoon, Clem briefly recalled how much sweeter Valkaria's oranges tasted than the two year old canned ones she was looking at right now.

"You're right," Clem told Sarah. "We need a farm."

"If you do this," said Sin. "You'll be committing yourself to a hard and often tedious life."

"I kind of think we're already committed to that," noted Patty.

"Farming is different from scavenging, it requires constant care from dawn till dusk," argued Sin. "And the various obstacles and dangers we face now won't disappear just because we start a farm. If anything, that'd make us a target for other scavengers."

"We're already sitting on a target," stated Devlin. "OKC probably wasn't the last army out there. I mean, you were telling me there were still troops left in Houston when you left, and that people there had heard about Tulsa. And, no offense to any of you, we had a lot more people ready to defend Tulsa back then."

"There's also the lurkers," added Sarah. "One herd already came here, another could still come. This is a big city with interstates leading in every direction to other cities that might be full of lurkers."

"We can handle dead people," argued Anthony.

"When we have time and somewhere safe to plan and prepare," retorted Sarah. "If a herd came here in the middle of the night while we're all asleep, we might not get out."

"They only have to bite us once to kill us," spoke a nervous Jet.

"If we go somewhere out in the country, far from the main interstates, then we probably won't run into people or lurkers," reasoned Sarah.

"Hold up, the country?" repeated Devlin. "You mean, you don't want to start a farm here in Tulsa?"

"I think it'd be too dangerous," said Sarah. "Like you just said, other people knew about it."

"So what, you want to pack up everything and leave?" asked Devlin.

"You got a problem with that military man?" retorted Anthony.

"I thought you were worried we'd be attacked a minute ago," said Jet.

"We could be attacked, or we could find more hungry people like you coming here for help," said Devlin. "I was just trying to say adding a farm wouldn't make Tulsa any bigger a target than it already is. I'd rather not just leave this place empty for whoever stumbles upon it next."

"So what, we gotta give up all our plans because you want to stay here forever?" challenged Anthony.

"I thought you didn't want to be a farmer," said Jet.

"I don't, I… I'm speaking hypothetically," reasoned Anthony. "I mean if we did do this, is he really saying we can't take the food here because someone else might come and need it?"

"I didn't say you can or can't do anything," corrected Devlin. "I just said, I'd rather not just abandon this place and leave nothing behind for anyone still heading here."

"In a couple of years there won't be anything left and that will happen anyway," argued Sarah. "And if more people do come they'll need to eat and that will just happen faster. You said Tulsa was already planning to start a farm. I know there's only a few of us now, but I still think that was the right plan, and not only for ourselves. If we do get good at growing our own food, we might able to make enough to feed other people who need help."

"Well, yeah, it was the right plan then, and probably still is now, and I always did want to go looking for the Osage," admitted Devlin. "We know they got hit in the attack, and their town closest to Tulsa got torn apart, but I always wondered if any of them survived. Their territory extends north to the Kansas border, it's possible there's still some up there trying to stay alive."

"We could find out," suggested Sarah. "You said they had farms in the Osage nation, and that you were going to start one there, maybe we still can, and if there's still people there, maybe we could even work together."

"I like the sound of that, but I'm still weary about leaving Tulsa behind," admitted Devlin. "Maybe it's just because I've been here so long, but I hate to think about what happens to the next group who gets here and there's no one or nothing left to help them."

"Well, we could leave some of the food here," suggested Jet. "We don't need to take all of it to start a farm, and then whoever comes here wouldn't starve."

"Leave food? Are you serious?" asked Anthony. "Just so some assholes can come along and steal it?"

"We probably can't bring it all with us anyway," argued Clem. "Even if we packed our RV's and your truck until they were full, there's no way we could get it all in there."

"All the more reason not to do this in the first place," argued Anthony. "We'd be leaving behind a fortune that someone else can snatch away while we're playing farmers up north."

"There's also all the tools and seeds we'd need to even start a farm," added Sin. "Leaving us with even less room to store food in our vehicles."

"Then let's get bigger vehicles," suggested Jet. "All those semi-trailers used to make the wall at the Citadel, they could hold tons of stuff. If Patty could get a truck working, we could use one of them. I bet we could get a year's supply of food into one of them."

"If I can get one of them working," said Patty.

"And even then, that still means leaving half of our stash behind for someone to take," added Anthony. "Seriously, we busted our asses getting this stuff, why just give it away?"

"Because you're not the only people who are hungry," argued Devlin. "And to be honest, I don't think it's enough just to leave food behind. We should leave instructions on how people can reach us too."

"So another roaming gang of pissed off soldiers with a tank can find us and kill us to get the other half of the food?" asked an annoyed Anthony. "That's an even worse idea."

"Fine, I'll stay behind, the rest of you can go," dismissed Devlin. "That way there's someone here who can tell the needing where to go and point anyone else in the wrong direction."

"Jesus Devlin," spoke a concerned Patty. "You really want to stay here after everything that's happened?"

"I thought you wanted to stay with us," added a surprised Clem.

"I do, but I don't feel right just ditching anyone else who comes to Tulsa, and since a sign can't tell the difference between a family and an invading army, somebody will need to be here, like I was when all of you came to town." Devlin sighed. "Maybe it's just as well, I figured I'd die here for quite a while now."

"Devlin, don't say that," pleaded Sarah. "I wanted us to do this together."

"If he's not coming I'm not," insisted Anthony. "Farming is gonna be hard enough without you guys dumping all the hard labor on me."

"It wouldn't all be on you," argued Clem. "If we do start a farm, we'd all help out."

"Yeah, great, one elderly man, some kids, and a couple of women who are barely five-feet high," grumbled Anthony as he crossed his arms. "No offense, but I don't see y'all doing the bulk of the literal heavy lifting."

"No offense? You son of a—"

"He has a point," interrupted Sin.

"Point?" repeated an annoyed Patty.

"Like I said, farming is hard work, and he and Devlin demonstrated they're the fittest amongst us when we had to fight our way here," noted Sin. "That means they can do more physical labor."

"It's just physics," realized Clem with a sigh.

"Oh yeah, well… I'm five-foot-four," blurted out Patty. "Not barely five feet high."

"You're all still smaller than Anthony and Devlin, and I'm far from my physical peak anymore. Not having either of them is going to greatly reduce the amount of work we can get done in a day," stated Sin. "And there will be a lot of work needed to run a successful farm."

"Devlin, we're gonna need you," insisted Sarah.

"I… I suppose you would," realized the man as he looked at the rest of the group. "But… I still don't know if I can just leave this place without a word of warning to the next group who might come here."

"Okay, well…. I'm gonna get bigger," reasoned Clem with a shrug. "So will Jet, and probably Sarah, and then we can do more work."

"That might take a few years, and as Sarah pointed out, we'd need to start this season," said Sin with a sigh. "Even with Devlin and Anthony, this is going to be an uphill climb."

"And I'm still not convinced we should even do this," added Anthony. "Seriously, even if it's only two years, that's two years I'd rather live happy then breaking my back in the dirt just to go hungry anyway because I don't know dick about farming."

"You… you didn't literally work the whole day, every day?" Jet asked Sin. "Right?"

"Well… I suppose not literally," said Sin with a shrug. "But it's a constant chore that needs doing, and then there's the added challenge of having to harvest our own seeds, something I know nothing about, and we'd have no chickens for eggs or cows for milk, meaning we'd be entirely dependent on what we harvest once we eat our current supply of food."

"Two years is a really long time. Maybe things will get sorted out while we're here," Patty told Sarah. "I mean, obviously they're not going back to normal, but in a couple of years maybe most of the walkers will be dead and there will finally be some kind of rescue effort."

"It's already been two years almost," argued Clem. "And there's been no rescue this whole time."

"And even if help does eventually come, it could take more than two years for it to get here," added Sarah. "It might take five years, or ten."

"Or decades," added Jet.

"Exactly," said Sarah. "But if we had a farm, we could last longer than two years—a lot longer."

"That's if we can even build one," said Sin.

"Or want to," added Anthony.

"Look, I know you wanted to start right away, but how bout this: we wait until next year to start a farm," suggested Patty. "We'll all have lots of time to rest, and you and Clem and Jet will all get some time to get a little bigger and stronger."

"And we'd all have more time to read up on the essentials of maintaining a farm," added Sin.

"A year would also give people a lot more time to reach Tulsa too," added Devlin. "After that long, I think I'd be comfortable moving on, and maybe we'll meet a few more helping hands during the wait."

"Yeah, people who like working on a farm," added Anthony with a grin.

"We can start a farm next year," said Patty with a smile. "This year, we can just enjoy ourselves."

Clem watched as Sarah's face sank, clearly heartbroken over her plan being rejected. It hurt Clem too, not just to see Sarah sad, but because Sarah had Clem convinced a farm was not only necessary to live, but that there best chance to succeed was now, not next year. Seeing everyone older than them, all people who got to live more of their lives before the world was thrown into chaos, nodding along with Patty's suggestion to simply forget about it for a year angered Clem.

She realized the reason they could speak so dismissively of something that would grant them greater longevity is because they had already lived a lot longer than Clem. Most of them had been given at least twice as long as she had ever been given to live in a world where they didn't have to constantly fear death and destitution around every corner. While they had been given the time to grow into adults and, at least briefly, pursue their hopes and desires, Clem had only been given just long enough to learn how the world worked before it was turned upside down and she was forced to relearn how to live in a far crueler world that afforded children no luxuries.

The exceptions would be Anthony, who seemed content to drift through life both before and after things changed for the worst, and Jet, who was only a couple of years older than Clem. Looking at the boy, she saw he didn't share the others sense of relief in not wanting to start a farm this year, likely because he was dwelling on the same thought Clem was dwelling on; in two years time, they'd still be children.

And then there was Omid, who would likely never even realize what he was denied just from being born when he was. Reaching over to collect the boy from his high chair, he fidgeted slightly in Clem's grip, likely still upset he was denied his treat. Coddling him close to his body and rubbing her hand up and down his back, she thought about all the other things he'd be denied if he never lived long enough to enjoy them.

Two years would be long enough for Omid to get to ride a tricycle, and that wasn't good enough Clem realized. Nor was it good enough passing up their best chance for him to live a long and full life, or for Clem's own chance to do the same. Watching the others finish off their plates, as if the decision had been made for them, was enough to make Clem scream; but she didn't scream.

"We'll leave behind instructions."

"What?" asked Devlin as he noticed Clem speaking to him.

"We'll leave them instructions," repeated Clem as she set Omid back in his highchair. "Not on how to get to where our farm is, but to wait for us."

"Wait for us?" asked Sarah.

"For one of us to come back, like once a month, to see if anyone has come here while we're gone," figured Clem. "There's enough food for even a really big group to stay a month."

"What's the point?" asked Anthony.

"So we have time to find out if they're bad or not before we tell them about our farm," said Clem.

"Our farm, you mean next year?" asked Anthony.

"We need to do it this year, like Sarah said."

"Clem—"

"What if there are more people out like the ones from Oklahoma City?" challenged Clem as she looked Anthony in the eye. "What if the soldiers in Houston come here because they heard about it like Sin and Jet did?" Clem stared at Devlin as she spoke those words. "Do you want to be here when that happens, or somewhere far away, where they won't find us?"

Clementine watched the pair closely, noticing both Anthony's smug smile and Devlin's typically chiseled face cracking as they were forced to ponder Clem's words.

"There's still the issue of the labor," reminded an unconvinced Sin. "Even if all of us pitch in, we're still likely to be short-handed."

"If more people come to Tulsa, they can help us," reasoned Clem.

"Whoa, I thought we were talking about avoiding people," said Anthony. "Are you seriously still suggesting we should tell people how to get to this hiding spot that I'm still not convinced we should even build?"

"Only if they're good people," said Clem.

"And how the hell do we determine that?"

"Well… we'll leave them a radio and instructions to leave it on a certain channel, that way whoever comes back can talk to them."

"Because people never lie over the phone… or radio."

Clementine scowled at Anthony in response. "Whoever comes back can watch them from the citadel, see what they do, maybe even catch them lying about how many people they say they have."

"Maybe, which means there's still a ton of risk," said Anthony.

"But it's a lot less risk than we were discussing before," retorted Devlin. "I'll be the one that comes back, I can do it on the first of every month. If there's anyone waiting here for us, I'll scout them out. If they look like trouble I'll come right back, if not I'll see if they want to join us on our farm."

"In the meantime, we're all we have to make a farm work by ourselves," reminded Sin. "And if we don't get any volunteers from Tulsa, ourselves is all we'll ever have."

"We killed over a thousand walkers in a single day," Clem reminded Sin. "I think we can handle a farm if we work together and plan things out."

"And if we can't handle it?" retorted Sin.

"Then… we know we can't and can come back this year, when we'll still have plenty of food left, which will give us plenty of time to think of another plan. If we wait until next year, that's a year less of food we'll have if the farm doesn't work."

Sin stroked his chin as he analyzed Clem's suggestion.

"We'd only have to grow enough food for ourselves," reminded Sarah. "It's not like we'll need to grow extra to sell to people for money."

"We don't use money at all anymore. Which means, we can take anything we need," said Jet. "Granddad, you said your family struggled to make ends meet on a farm. Was that because they couldn't always afford what they needed?"

"Sometimes…" admitted Sin.

"We got no shortage of building supplies at the hardware store," said Devlin. "PVC piping, gutters, sheet metal; I helped build a lot of the walls around here, so I've got a little experience with welding, and I think we still have a few acetylene torches left."

"Granddad, you're an engineer," reminded Jet. "You could use that stuff to build an irrigation system."

"I… I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, I couldn't design anything sophisticated, but some simple irrigation systems might be possible if I have some time to think about it."

"If we find any farm equipment, I could try to fix it up," offered Patty. "From what I remember, they're not much different from big trucks."

"So does that mean everyone wants to do the farm?" asked a surprised Sarah. "I mean, this year?"

"I think what Clem suggested would work for keeping watch over people coming to Tulsa," said Devlin. "And screening the area for threats too."

"The last time I worked as a farmer, I was a young and inexperienced man, and it was the nineteen-seventies," said Sin "There have likely been some improvements to farm equipment since then, and if we plan carefully, we might be able to get by just the seven of us."

"I could help Sarah research stuff about plants," offered Jet. "And anything else we need to know about farming."

"There's no mercury in the damn ground is there?" Anthony asked Sin. "Or lead, or something else that'll mean we can only eat stuff that grows out of the dirt twice a week or we get lead poisoning or whatever?"

"Not that I'm aware of," said Sin.

"Well… between eating fresh food again and living somewhere that won't be an obvious target for hundreds of miles, I guess I could put up with a rural lifestyle, at least for a while."

"So we all agree?" asked Sarah. "We're going to start a farm this year?"

Everyone looked at each other, a bit of hesitation on their faces before they all turned to Clem and Sarah.

"Yeah, I think you and Clem sold us," said Patty with a smile.

"At least on not sitting around on a treasure trove that other people might be coming to claim," clarified Anthony. "Still not entirely convinced we can actually run a farm, but whatever, I'll give it a shot."

"If we can't manage a farm, we can always return here, formulate a new plan like Clem suggested," said Sin.

"All right then, it's settled," declared Devlin. "We got a lot of work ahead of us, so let's get started." Everyone quickly filed out in different directions while Sarah gravitated towards Clem.

"I… I can't believe it," she said.

"They're going to do it," said Clem with a smile.

"Because of you."

"Because of both of us," corrected Clem.

Sarah shot forward and wrapped her arms around Clem. Before Clem couldn't even respond, Sarah leaned over and kissed her cheek, much to Clem's surprise. "Thank you," whispered Sarah.

"You're… you're welcome," whispered Clem as she felt her heart skip a beat. Before she could return the favor, Omid started to cry again. "Don't worry, it'll be okay." Clementine let go of Sarah and took hold of Omid, carefully cradling him as she removed him from his highchair. "It's okay OJ," whispered Clem. "We're gonna grow a bunch of really good things, and then you will get to eat food you like for every meal."

Previous Chapter - First Chapter - Next Chapter

[threeorphanpilgrimage]

Chapter 68 - Day of the Living

Clementine took a breath as she examined the instrument in her hands, dreading what came next. She tried to force herself to act, but couldn't summon the will to go through with it.

"Clem?" asked Sarah. "Are you—"

"I'm going to," assured Clem. "It's just… you have such beautiful hair."

"It's fine Clem," assured Sarah. "I don't mind."

"I mind." Clem sighed as she carefully took hold of Sarah's long, dark hair. "I hate this almost as much as I hate cutting my own hair."

"You know I would cut your hair if you just asked."

"You cut it too short," accused Clem as she carefully angled her scissors. "I barely have any hair left when you do it."

"You're the one who told me it's important to keep our hair short," reminded Sarah. "And if there are as many lurkers on the other side of the river as Devlin says there are, we need to be ready for anything."

"Yeah… we do." Clem sighed and made her first of what would be many cuts. She found each and every one of them painful, and it was all made worse that Sarah had asked for her hair to be cut as short as possible. Clem pleaded with her to settle on cutting it just short enough to tie back but she refused, and now she was sitting there calmly as if nothing was happening. After dozens of traumatic snips, Clem found the terrible task finished when she was unable to remove any more hair.

"You're done?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah," said Clem with a sigh. "It's done."

Sarah stood up and hurried into the bathroom while Clem looked down at the piles of black hair at her feet. She moved the chair and started shoveling it all into the garbage back they had set on the ground. Tying off the bag, Clem watched as Sarah returned from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," said Clem immediately.

"For what?" asked Sarah.

"For cutting it so short."

"I told you to."

"It really doesn't bother you?" asked a surprised Clem. "I mean, you kind of look like a boy now."

"I really don't care," assured Sarah. "I was just making sure it was short enough that it couldn't get grabbed." Sarah walked over to Clem and picked up the bag she tied. "I'll toss this out and check on Patty real quick, make sure her and Devlin don't need anything."

"I'll go get breakfast." Clem headed for the closet and eyed their loose collection of cans scattered across the mostly empty shelves. It was a hard choice, but she eventually settled on artichoke hearts and their final can of beets as the least disgusting foods they had left. Sarah went to collect Omid while Clem cracked the cans open.

The beets were okay, but the artichokes tasted like wet mush mixed with too much salt. Omid didn't like either one, and made it very clear he didn't as well. Some well-executed maneuvers on Sarah's part did manage to get him to swallow a few tiny bites of beets, but not a bit more. Neither of them wanted to even try to feed him the artichokes, so they let him skip to dessert and eat his ice cream.

"Maybe we could borrow a can of fruit from Sin and Jet, or Anthony," suggested Sarah as she fed Omid a tiny piece of ice cream. "They would understand, right?"

"Yeah, I think so…" An uncomfortable hush fell between the two girls as they watched Omid eat. The boy finished his piece and immediately opened his mouth for another.

"Why don't you go get ready? I'll finish feeding him," said Sarah.

"Okay." Clem headed into the bathroom to do her business and brush her teeth. Moving to the mirror, Clem was disappointed her hair was as short as it was, but was grateful she still had some of it. She picked up a worn brown elastic tie and used it to pull her hair into a tight bun. Clem adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, admiring the multi-colored beads briefly before grabbing her hat.

Slipping the cap on her head, Clem couldn't help staring at the bruise on her right arm. It and others on her right leg had formed the morning after she had fallen in the river. They were still sore, but the sight of the blackened marks running along the right side of her body pained Clem more than the bruises themselves. The day before yesterday she had fallen off a bridge, and now she was going to try to do something far more dangerous.

"Clem?" There were a couple of gentle knocks at the door. Pulling it open, Clem found Sarah standing outside. "Are you okay?"

Looking at Sarah, it was obvious she had already noticed Clem's distress, approaching her friend without a word. Clem couldn't think of anything to say as Sarah stared anxiously at her, so she didn't say anything; she threw her hands around Sarah instead.

"I'm scared," Clem whispered into Sarah's ear.

"Me too," Sarah whispered back as she embraced Clem. "I think we have a good plan, but—"

"Something could go wrong," said Clem.

"I was just going to say, we've never tried something like this before. But yeah, something could go wrong."

"Something always goes wrong…"

"Not always."

"Name a time we did something and nothing went wrong."

"Well… the first time Patty helped us and we got all that food from Titusville. Everything went as planned and we got a lot of food."

"Yeah, but this a lot different."

"I know… but we've got a lot more help this time," reasoned Sarah. "We haven't had this many people since… back at the cabin."

"I guess that's true," said Clem, not finding much comfort in that fact. "I'm also worried about what Devlin said, about the power plant."

"Yeah, it worries me too."

"Does radiation really make your hair fall out?"

"I don't know. I wanted to look it up, but our encyclopedias were ruined in the flood. But I was more worried about the other part, about getting sick and dying."

"It's… it's been like two weeks," reasoned Clem as she tightened her grip on Sarah. "If there was something wrong, we would have noticed by now, right? I mean, how long does it take for radiation to make you sick?"

"I don't know," repeated Sarah. "Again, I wanted to look that up, but we don't have the 'R' encyclopedia anymore."

"I… I love you Sarah," professed Clem, suddenly fearful she wouldn't get a chance to say that again.

"I love you too Clementine." Clem turned her head and gently kissed Sarah's cheek, and found herself a little disappointed when Sarah didn't return the gesture.

"Mah-bah!" Looking past Sarah, Clem spotted Omid standing in the door.

"He's still hungry," realized Clementine.

"I'll get his stuff together and take him over to the Sunseeker," said Sarah as she pulled away from Clem. "We were going to keep him there anyway since Patty says it's the only vehicle that hasn't stalled on us."

"Speaking of which, I should bring her what's left of breakfast." Clem left Sarah to deal with Omid while she grabbed the beet and artichoke cans off the table. Looking through the windshield, she could see Patty handing out something to Devlin while Sin, Jet, and Anthony looked on. Stepping outside, she could see Devlin was holding a hand grenade.

"Where did you get these again?" he asked.

"I found them after I left Miami for good," explained Patty as she shut the lid on a green ammo box. "They were in a drainage pipe near a crashed truck. Not sure if they landed there or if someone stashed them for later, but it was the only thing left of value I could find."

"And there were only three left in the box?" asked Sin as he looked at the grenade he was holding.

"No, I used up the others. I'd toss them at old houses; the explosion would set them on fire while the noise would drag walkers in from all over. They'd walk right in and get burnt to a crisp, then I could loot the rest of the area knowing it was mostly clear. I was always hoping I'd just stumble upon another box of them eventually. I don't suppose you have any?"

"Nah, we used up most of our ordnance on the bridges, and the rest not long after that," said Devlin as he clipped the grenade to his belt. "If we get cornered, these will be good for drawing the infected off, but I really hope we don't need them. Y'all remember what I told you about using these things, right?"

"Yeah," said Jet while the others merely nodded. Yesterday, Devlin had explained to each of them how to use a grenade. Holding the handle on a grenade prevents it from exploding after pulling the pin, but once the handle is released they only had five seconds before it blew up. Clem was glad the others were handling the grenades; just looking at them reminded her of the time she accidentally crossed paths with one Patty had thrown in Titusville.

"All right, let's go over the plan one more—"

"We've been over it and over it," interrupted Anthony. "We must have talked about it a dozen times the other day, everything we needed to get from your fancy citadel is already in our vehicles, and we all know what we're supposed to do, so I say we just do it already."

"Yeah, I'm with Anthony," said Patty. "Let's roll."

Devlin looked over the rest of the group and saw a silent agreement in the faces of all of them. Clem herself was anxious to proceed, finding the mere act of planning yesterday stressful enough without reviewing it yet again.

"All right then." Devlin shrugged, then turned to look at the citadel's gate. "If this trick for slipping past the dead you told me about works, then—"

"It does," confirmed Sin. "It doesn't make sense, but it works."

"I hope so, because there's too many over too far an area to ever try walking the food back, so we're gonna need every advantage we can get if we're actually going to clear them out." Devlin looked out at the gate and took a breath. "I always assumed the Bible was talking about people who were already long gone when it said the dead would rise, not the recently deceased. I never thought this is what the end of the world would look like."

"I always assumed it would be a slow collapse scenario brought on by mismanaged resources and short-sighted fools blocking significant progress for quick gains," said Sin. "That or a solar storm."

"Solar storm?" repeated Patty.

"Activity on the sun results in the release of electromagnetism. A strong enough electromagnetic field colliding with the Earth would destroy our satellites, and wipe out most of the world's power grid along with just about everything plugged into it at the time."

"Are… are you serious?" asked Anthony.

"Am I ever not?" answered Sin.

"But that's the kind of thing that won't happen for a billion years, right?" asked Clem.

"Actually, the planet was struck by a major solar storm back in eighteen, fifty-nine. It was so intense that auroras could be seen in the sky from almost anywhere on the planet, and telegraph equipment shot out sparks big enough to start fires."

"Jesus…" said Devlin.

"Glad that happened over a hundred years ago and not now," said Jet.

"There was another solar storm of similar strength a few years before our current apocalypse," informed Sin. "It narrowly missed the Earth, but had it hit us… well actually a worldwide blackout may have better prepared us for what's happening now. At the very least it would have given us a few years to adjust to life without a functional electrical infrastructure, convince us to pursue more self-sufficient alternatives."

"Your old man always this optimistic?" Devlin asked Jet.

"He's my granddad," he answered. "And yeah, he's always like this. He was talking about the end of the world before it happened."

"It's not the end of the world," everyone turned to Sarah as she stepped out of the Brave. She was carrying Omid in her arms and had a backpack slung over her shoulder. "At least not yet."

"Whoa, what happened to your hair?" asked Anthony.

"Clem cut it, so it's safer," explained Sarah.

"Why do you care?" asked Patty.

"I just thought it looked better before," noted Anthony.

"I told you," said Clem.

"And I told you I don't care." As Sarah moved in closer, Clem could see Omid was still upset. She wanted to comfort him, only to remember she was still holding Patty's breakfast in each hand.

"Here," said Clem as she finally handed the beets and artichokes off to the woman.

"Jeez, I was kind of hoping for something a little better for our big day," said Patty as she studied the labels.

"Those are probably the best ones we have left," informed Clem, wishing those weren't the best canned foods they had left.

"Omid wouldn't even eat most it," said Sarah as she cradled the boy. "I was kind of hoping we could borrow a can of fruit from one of you, just so he'd eat something today."

"I'm fresh out," reported Anthony. "Down to just vegetables now."

"I'm sorry," said Sin. "But we don't have any fruit either."

"We've still got a can of corn through," said Jet. "Will he eat that?"

"Yeah, he's had corn before," said Sarah.

"Hey OJ," said Clementine as she leaned in close to the boy. "You like corn right?"

"It might not be the end of the world yet, but it sure feels like it," said Anthony. "I remember not long after this started, how I missed my favorite foods and hated eating out of cans. Nowadays, I'd settle for more cans of sugary mush than salted mush. At this rate, I'll probably be happy just to have salty mush in a few months."

"Kem-men," said OJ with a smile as he looked right at Clementine.

"Yeah, really, it feels like we're all just living on borrowed time," noted a glum Patty. "God knows our vehicles certainly are."

"Ah-sah." Omid started eyeing the sky with a sense of awe.

"Devlin," said Sin. "Did you every hear any news about the rest of the world?"

"I remember hearing news reports of their being signs of the outbreak in England, France, and China before communications went to shit. There were probably some other places mentioned too but I can't remember anymore."

Clem watched with great curiously as Omid start grasping at the air above him. She wasn't sure what he was trying to touch until she looked up and spotted a single puffy cloud hanging in the otherwise clear sky. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she realized Omid was trying to grab the cloud.

"You said China?" asked Sin.

"Yeah, you got friend's there or something?"

"Not there, but back in Thailand," said Sin, a hint of sadness in his voice. "With news being so scarce, I was holding out hope that maybe some parts of the world had been spared this madness."

"You like being outside, don't you?" asked Clem in a whisper.

"Ow-sah…" awed Omid, revealing his two front teeth.

"We didn't hear much else after that, but what we did hear sounded like whatever this is, it's global," said Devlin.

"There's nowhere to go," concluded a dismayed Jet. "And nothing is ever going to change."

"Don't say that," snapped Clem in a harsh tone as she turned to Jet. "Things will change. That's why we spent all day yesterday planning, and that's what we're gonna do today; change things for the better."

Everyone looked at Clementine for a second, surprised by her declaration.

"Well you heard her," said Devlin. "Let's make this happen."

"Jai yen yen." Everyone looked at Sin in confusion.

"It means stay frosty," translated Jet. "At least I think it does."

"Semper paratus," added Devlin with a smirk.

"Isn't that the Marines' motto?" asked Anthony.

"That's semper fi, the Coast Guard's is semper paratus; always ready. After sitting on my ass and going stir crazy for a couple of months, I think I'm ready for anything."

"Be good for Sarah," whispered Clem before leaning in to kiss Omid on the forehead. "Love you."

"Muh-boo," repeated Omid while trying to reach out to Clem before being carried away by Sarah. She joined Sin and Jet as they all filed into the Sunseeker while Devlin followed Anthony to his truck.

"You ready partner?" asked Patty.

"I hope so." Clem followed Patty back into the Brave and sat down beside the woman as she tried to start the engine.

"Come on dammit, don't make me get out," grumbled Patty as the engine produced only an annoying churning sound.

"It keeps doing that," noted a concerned Clem. "Do you know why?"

"Could be one of a million things. Even if I had time to check, I probably wouldn't have the supplies on hand to fix it," groaned Patty as she turned the key again. "Devlin said they had hoarded stuff for their vehicles at this shopping center, maybe I can give it the tune-up it needs there."

"The shower isn't working that good either," added Clem. "The water only comes out a little at a time, like—"

"The sink," finished Patty as she tried the key a third time. "Yeah, I noticed that."

"Do you think you can fix it?"

"Honestly? Probably not. Just because it's attached to a vehicle doesn't change the fact it's plumbing, and I don't really know anything about that."

Clem sighed. "I guess it's not a big deal. Sarah says we're only supposed to use a little water anyway, so we don't waste it. But—"

"It was great having long showers while it lasted."

"Maybe we can use the other RV's shower sometimes?" suggested Clem.

"It doesn't have one," said Patty. "Just a toilet and a sink."

"And a shower rod they took to hang clothes on," recalled Clem. "But no actual shower."

Patty sighed, then tried the key again, finally starting to engine much to her and Clem's relief. "At least this thing is still working for now, along with the hot water heater."

"And the toilet," added Clem with a grimace.

Patty put the Brave into drive and Clem watched as they pulled past the citadel's gate. Heading north, they passed by more empty buildings, looted stores, and crowded parking lots overflowing with abandoned cars. Clem could also see modest houses complete with humble backyards closed in by a simple wooden fence running alongside the road. Clem would say they reminded her of her old house in Georgia, but she could hardly remember what it looked anymore.

They weren't on the road long before Patty turned the Brave onto a bridge leading over the river. This wasn't the same bridge Clem had fallen off the day before, but it was missing a section in the middle just like that one. The destroyed bridges was a safety measure according to Devlin, allowing them to quarantine the more walker heavy east section of town from its west. But since they did that, the east side had been gradually cleared out while the west had been swarmed by the herd from Oklahoma City. Unfortunately, what they wanted was west of the river.

"All right," said Patty as she put the Brave in park. "Let's go partner."

Patty loaded her shotgun while Clem equipped her pistol and her spare magazines, then collected their raincoats, respirators, binoculars, radios and backpacks. Clem grabbed her tomahawk while Patty strapped a machete to her back. Removing the sheath, Clem examined the weapon's razor sharp edges. She had spent over half an hour carefully sharpening both the axe and knife-edge yesterday, as well as cleaning her pistol in preparation for today.

Clem adjusted her hat while Patty finished tying off her scarf, then the pair turned to each other. There were no words between them, just a quiet look of understanding before they barged outside. It was warmer today, but still cold enough to make Clem shiver. Briefly eyeing the edge of the bridge, Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as her thoughts suddenly shifted to the icy river churning below, and the bruises on her right side felt a little sorer as she scooted away from the edge.

Scanning the area for threats, Clem found little beyond a mostly empty four lane road that stopped abruptly in the middle. Eyeing a lone derelict car off to the side, Patty raised her gun while Clem approached it. She banged her tomahawk against the side of the vehicle, then checked inside when that failed to produce any results. The front was empty, as was the back and the trunk, likely picked clean months ago.

After that the pair moved towards the end of the bridge. The middle of the road looked as if something had forcibly ripped it away in a flash. If not for some scorch marks near the edge of the concrete, Clem never would suspect explosives were used to do this. The rest of the road past the break was empty, and an abundance of dead trees on both sides of it blocked her view on what lay past the river. According to Devlin, this road led right to the shopping center they used as a base, but if it was out there, Clem couldn't see any clues to its existence.

"Everyone ready?" Clem heard Sarah ask over the radio.

"Me and military man are in place," reported Anthony.

"Give us a minute," said Clem as she and Patty removed their backpacks. Clem started pulling glass bottles out of her bag while Patty unpacked a huge bundle of fireworks. The pair quickly set a rocket in each bottle until they had a row of six set up and ready to be fired.

"All right Sarah, count us down." Patty clipped the radio to her belt and removed a pair of lighters from her pocket, one of which she gave to Clem.

"Okay, get ready." Sarah's words prompted Clem to bend down and position the lighter right by the nearest rocket fuse. "Three, two, one!" Clem flicked the lighter and the fuse almost instantly sparked to life. She hurried to the next rocket, then the third one. After lighting those, she looked to her right and spotted Patty lighting her final rocket, after which the duo took several steps back and waited.

The first pair of rockets took off screaming into the sky and exploded into bursts of smoke, with any colorful lights being invisible against the morning sky. Clem could hear other fireworks in the distance, both to the north and south. The next pair of rockets streaked into the sky followed immediately after by the final set, each of their detonations echoed by two other sets of explosions in the distance. The loud bangs sent some stray birds flying from the trees on the other side of the river, and then there was silence.

"Now we wait and see if that was loud enough for them." Patty reached for her binoculars and Clem did the same. They both scanned the horizon for signs of walkers, but only found only an empty bridge. "We should have taken a bunch of those Saturn missile things instead of bottle rockets."

"A bunch of what?" asked Clem.

"You know, those boxes full of tiny red plastic missiles that make horrible screeching noises when they go off."

"Oh, those… I hate those."

"Yeah, me too, but in retrospect, we should have packed a bunch of them instead of bottle rockets, they make tons of noise and eat up less space. Hell, why didn't we at least pack more bottle rockets?"

"We were going to, but we had to move all your stuff into the Brave, so we could only take as many rockets as we could fit in the closet."

"That's right," recalled Patty with a sigh. "We should have just found another vehicle instead of me living with you and Sarah."

"You don't like staying with us?"

"What? No, I love being around you two and Omid, it makes everything feel less insane, almost normal."

"We like being with you too," assured Clem.

"Thanks, I… I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me before," professed Patty. "Still, we could have found a truck to use for hauling things, and I could have still slept in the RV at night, or—"

"I see them," announced Clem.

"Yeah, me too, on the right side of the bridge."

Clem watched as a rotten corpse stumbled into view on the horizon.

"Is… is that it?" asked Clem.

"Dammit, maybe the rockets weren't loud enough," mumbled Patty.

"Or maybe there's just not that many walkers left," reasoned Clem as she watched the lone walker stumble across the broken bridge. "Devlin did say it's been a long time since he went over there."

"Yeah, but he also said… oh shit."

Clem watched as dozens of walkers sprung into view, like an infestation of grotesque weeds growing out of the horizon. More kept pouring into sight until there was an entire mob of them canvassing the bridge. Clem felt a familiar sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach as they shambled relentlessly forward, the dull roar of their uneven moans filling the air.

"Jesus, that's a lot of them."

Clem instinctively took a step backwards as the walkers lurched forward, and she found herself unable to breathe until the first walker plummeted off the bridge. It hit the water with a huge splash, which made Clem flinch as her bruises suddenly felt sorer than they did a moment ago. That walker was followed by a dozen more, all diving into the river and creating a series of loud splashes to accompany the non-stop moaning. Some of them thrashed about in the water, others seemed to give up and start floating downstream, while some of them simply didn't come up after falling beneath the water.

"It seems to be working," reported Sin over the radio.

"Seems too?" asked Patty.

"They're coming, I'm just not sure when they're going to stop," he said.

"Like I said, there's hundreds, and that's at the very least," added Devlin.

"And he said it could be as many as thousands," Patty mumbled to herself as she watched the dead pour off the edge of the broken bridge, almost like a waterfall of festering, moaning meat. Clem found herself growing uneasy as the walkers continued to march into view over the horizon without end, and she started to wonder if the next part of their plan was really going to work.

It dawned on Clem there could be walkers on this side of the river as well, and she spun around in a flash expecting at least a dozen of them shambling up to meet her. But there wasn't, and she didn't see any in the distance, only the Brave blocking her view. Walking past it, Clem saw nothing moving at the intersection or beyond it. Devlin had said he hadn't seen any walkers on this side of the river in a long time, but Clem kept searching, just in case.

"Clem, take a look at this." Patty's words sent Clem rushing back to the woman's side. She had moved from watching walkers rushing over the bridge to standing by the edge and looking out north over the river. Clem inched up to the edge, then took a few steps back. "In the distance, I think I can see the ones from Anthony and Devlin's bridge."

Raising her binoculars, Clem spotted another broken bridge north on the river, and just south of it in the water was an uneven trail of what she could only assume were walkers floating downstream. It was hard to tell from this distance, the bodies appearing to be little more than black dots even with the binoculars, but there was no doubt they were floating towards their position, all the while more walkers tumbled off the bridge to join them.

"Devlin, why did you say your people never tried anything like this while you were waiting here?" asked a nervous Patty.

"A lot of reasons," he said. "For one, we didn't like the idea of clogging up the river with these damn things and sending them downstream to be someone else's problem, or polluting our best water supply with rotten meat. But according to you people, there isn't anyone left downriver, and I know there's no one left here needing water anymore but us."

"They seem to be piling up on the ones who sink," noted Sin.

"Yeah, we can see that too." Patty's words prompted Clem to look back to their bridge. Following a couple of walkers as they toppled off the edge, she noticed one of them didn't immediately sink to the bottom. The top of their feet briefly remaining above the surface of the river before falling forward into the water and beginning their trip downstream.

"That's another reason, these things don't drown, so the ones who sink just sit there, until someone is unlucky enough to walk past one of them," said Devlin. "After a nasty drought during the first summer caused the river to shrink, we had people go out to get water one morning, and found out the hard way that some of the infected who fell off the bridge were still waiting there, like fucking land mines that crawled out of the water."

Clem found herself unnerved by what Devlin had just said. When she fell into the river, her only thoughts were of trying not to drown, but seeing the dead pour into the water by the dozens forced her to think about how much more danger she could have been in. Just one of her feet brushing past a walker lying on the river bed could have killed her before she even knew it.

"Mostly, we just didn't have the manpower to deal with what's left," said Devlin. "I really hope this smell trick of yours works as well as you say it does. Even with all the infected we're drawing off now, there's going to be a plenty left waiting on the other side."

"Yeah, we don't doubt it."

Clem watched as the stream of dead continued to flow forward, not unlike the river they were throwing themselves into. Only after several minutes did the mob of dead thin out to just a few loose walkers wandering forward, prompting the group to coordinate another launch of rockets. More walkers came spilling forward in response, less densely packed this time, but still in great numbers as they plunged into the water a few at a time.

Clem divided her time between watching the walkers push forward over their side of the bridge and checking over her shoulder to make sure there weren't any approaching her side of the bridge. It was odd to her seeing walkers by the dozens on one side and empty roads on the other, as if the city had been split into two most common sights Clem had come to expect these days; death or nothingness.

Turning away from the road, Clem saw the walkers were already starting to wane, but only slightly as more kept arriving to replace their fallen kin. After several uneventful minutes of waiting for them to end, Patty fetched a deck of cards from the Brave and sat down to play a few hands of poker with Clem. Clem was grateful to spend some time with Patty, she just wished she wasn't so bad at poker.

"I'll take... three." Clem tossed some cards onto the pile and grabbed new ones from the top of the deck.

"Try not to hesitate," instructed Patty.

"Huh?"

"The way you paused between saying I'll and three cards. It gives away you're not sure about what you're doing, which makes me think you're weighing a couple of options, like you've got two pairs and you were trying to decide between keeping them or losing one to get more cards."

Clem frowned as Patty said that. "Is it that obvious?"

"It was an educated guess," said Patty with a shrug as she tossed out two cards before grabbing more from the deck. "When you get rid of three cards, it's usually because you've got a pair, and since you were thinking about it, I figured you might be deciding between trying for a full house on your next draw, or losing one pair hoping to turn the other into three or four of a kind."

"Well I didn't get either." Clem dropped her cards on the concrete.

"Don't just fold, you can still bluff with a bad hand."

"You always know," argued a defeated Clem.

"Not always, sometimes I bluff about knowing when you're bluffing."

Clem groaned as Patty smirked at her. "How do you do it?"

"I guess I got a lot of practice bickering with my dad. He was always riding my ass about one thing or another, which meant I had to get better at making excuses and looking innocent just to keep him at bay."

"My parents were really nice to me," said Clem as she found herself looking at another terrible hand. "I'll never learn to bluff."

"That's not true, you had me going when I first met you. I never thought for a second you and Sarah were alone in that old RV with a baby."

"That was before I knew you. I guess—"

"It's easier to lie to people who aren't your friend," concluded Patty.

"Yeah, it is…" Clem found her mind drifting after saying that. "How do you lie to me? I mean, you think I'm your friend, right?"

"Of course," said Patty with a smile. "And for you, it's not so much lying as just pretending like nothing is bothering me, like I don't care. I just kind of let the game happen and try to think about something else."

"Like what?"

"Just, boring crap that needs doing. A minute ago when we were playing, I was making a list in my head of stuff we'd need to give the Brave a proper tune-up. It keeps the game kind of distant so I don't look excited if I get a good hand. You could also wear sunglasses."

"Sunglasses?"

"Hide your eyes, make it harder for people to see what you're thinking."

"But you don't wear sunglasses."

"I used to when I was a little older than you," said Patty with a smile.

"All right, they're down to the single digits again," said Devlin. "I'm thinking we should do one more volley then move on to phase two."

"I agree," added Sin.

"Got it." The pair prepared another row of rockets, using up most of their remaining supply. Sarah counted down and they lit the fuses. Soon after another crowd of walkers arrived at the broken bridge. After briefly viewing more of them plummet to their doom, the pair resumed their game.

Clem tried Patty's technique of occupying her mind. She diverted her attention between watching for walkers approaching from their side while thinking about things they needed to be on the look out for. Most of their clothes were showing a lot of wear and tear, Omid was already beginning to outgrown his, and they had been so pre-occupied looking for food lately they hadn't time to look for things like shampoo, soap, or toothpaste.

As they played, Clem noticed she was starting to do better, winning a couple of hands in a row, but noticing that brought her attention back to game itself and she immediately returned to her losing streak. She tried distracting herself again, but between the cold and the distant moaning, she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything anymore, especially a game she wasn't particularly good at.

"I fold," she said.

"You—"

"I know, could bluff, but I think I'm tired of poker," admitted Clem as she tossed her hand onto the pile.

"Yeah, that's probably enough for today." Patty collected the cards and stuffed them into her pocket. "It looks like that's about it for the walkers, at least for now."

Clem looked over to the other side of the bridge, spotting only a couple of lone corpses idly stumbling across it. Moving closer to the edge, Clem saw there was now a long trail of floating bodies that ran the length of the river. There had to be at least a hundred of them, and looking to her right she saw the trail continued all the way from their bridge to the next one north of here, forming a river of dead inside the rest of the river.

Watching another walker fall off the bridge, Clem was surprised it hit not water, but a small island made of corpses. It was tiny, and its most recent visitor immediately slid off the twisted stack of mangled bodies and into the water, but just that there had been enough dead walkers to make a small land mass was disturbing in itself.

So were the many bodies drifting by as Clem got a closer look at them. There had been so many before she had never focused on a single one, but studying them now she could see many of them had snapped legs, broken arms, and necks that had been twisted into unnatural positions. Their badly mangled bodies should have a provided her with some small comfort, reassuring Clem they probably couldn't attack even if they drifted back onto land, but instead it just felt like a series of painful reminders of the fate she narrowly avoided after her own unfortunate plummet.

"I think we've lured about as many as we can off a cliff," reported Patty over the radio. "Everyone ready to move on to the next part?"

"Been ready for about an hour now," asserted Anthony.

"We've only been out here for an hour," reminded Patty.

"Exactly," said Anthony. "I'll take anything to break up all this sitting and watching."

"We ran out of walkers a few minutes ago," reported Sarah.

"We've scouted ahead to the rendezvous point on the other side of the river," added Sin. "It definitely looks like we can use it as a starting point to clear a path to the shopping center."

"We already killed the ones nearby, so as long as we're quiet it should give us time to get ready," said Sarah.

"Right, we'll be there in a minute." As Patty put her radio away, Clem spotted something approaching from the road.

"Look." Clem pointed at a walker clumsy lurching across the intersection and towards the bridge. It looked pitiful even for a walker, its clothes nearly rotted off its body and its face so deformed that Clem couldn't be sure if it was a man or a woman. Whatever it was, it moved very slowly, dragging one of its ankles as it walked. Clem briefly looked past it, expecting more following it, but it was alone.

"I'll take care of—"

"No." Clem removed her tomahawk from her shoulder. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure? I—"

"We're gonna have to kill a lot of walkers today, so I want to make sure I'm ready for it."

"All right, I'll be right behind you." Clem could feel Patty walking beside her, and heard the woman removing her machete from its sheath. Clem took that as her cue to unsheathe her tomahawk, taking a moment to admire its fine edge before adjusting her grip on it.

Despite having done this countless times before, including a few times as she and Patty had explored the outskirts of Tulsa, Clem felt a little nervous as she stepped forward to intercept the lone walker. She had her raincoat, Patty was right behind her, and this walker looked weaker and slower than most, and yet there was still a lingering fear slowly moving up her spine as she approached it, that constant reminder that a single mistake could kill her.

As it moved into arm's reach, Clem swung her tomahawk, slicing the rotting tendons just above the sorry corpse's broken ankle, causing it to collapse onto its side. Clem flipped the weapon over in her hand, then stepped forward to finish off her prey. The walker lay there, thrashing about hopelessly, snapping its deformed jaw full of broken teeth up until the moment Clem brought her tomahawk down on its skull. There was a loud cracking sound, followed by silence.

"You okay?" asked Patty as she moved beside Clem. "You looked kinda nervous."

"Is it that obvious?" asked Clem as she pried her tomahawk free.

"What's got you worried? It looks like you handled that one just fine."

"That one," repeated Clem. "Here's hoping I can do it a few hundred, or thousand more times."

Clem took one last look at the walker she killed, noticing it had long, dark hair. Their hair was stringy and filthy now, but whoever this was probably had beautiful hair before they died.

The pair returned to the Brave and Patty started driving them south. Clem took a moment to clean off her tomahawk, then proceeded to double check all their equipment. Their guns were fully loaded, the radios equipped with fresh batteries, and their raincoats still freshly coated in the stench of the dead from the preparations they made yesterday. Everything she could check was ready and in working order, yet Clem still felt anxious.

"Where you'd say we should turn off?" Clem heard Patty ask the radio.

"The first exit on the right," answered Jet. "Turn right at the end of the ramp and we'll be at the first intersection past it."

"And be careful," warned Devlin. "Most of the infected are a little further north from this position, and we probably drew a lot away from the area, but there could still be some nearby. The ones stuck in buildings probably didn't find their way out when they heard those bottle rockets."

"Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye out for them," reported Jet.

"And we'll be there in a minute to back you up." Patty put her radio down and Clem watched as they drove past the bridge they stopped at the day before yesterday. Just seeing it in passing made her shutter, and she was glad when it was out of sight. Not long after that they turned onto a different bridge, and looking ahead Clem saw that this one was still in one piece.

Looking out at the river as the drove over it, Clem could see more walkers floating downstream, along with a few stranded on a tiny island poking out above the water. Watching them shamble around made Clementine's mostly empty stomach crawl, and seeing dozens more wandering around close to the shoreline didn't help.

Moving a little further inland, the dead thinned out quickly, and Clem realized the gathering near the river was likely what's left of the walkers who went chasing bottle rockets. But occasionally, she could still spot the occasional stray on the road next to the highway, which kept Clem from ever feeling safe.

After a few minutes of drive time, they reached an off-ramp which Patty immediately turned onto. As they rolled downwards, Patty shifted the Brave into neutral and turned the engine off. They were now quietly rolling down the ramp and were less likely to attract attention, but Clem kept a vigilant watch from the windows anyway.

At the bottom of the ramp was an intersection, with the road left leading under the highway and the road right leading to another intersection where Clem could see the Sunseeker parked. After checking for threats from the windows, Patty removed the keys from the ignition and the pair headed back out. Clem felt a tightness in her chest as she moved towards the other RV, fearful that walkers weren't far. She couldn't see any nearby, yet their presence felt obvious to her just the same.

"You two okay?" Hearing Jet's voice over the radio prompted Clem to examine the Sunseeker more closely. Looking up, she almost immediately spotted the boy on top of the vehicle, waving at them.

"We're fine," answered Clem.

"Do you see anything from up there?" asked Patty in a hushed voice.

"Occasionally I can see a walker in the distance," he reported. "Sarah and Granddad already killed the ones nearby."

"And we could use a hand with the barbwire," added Sin.

"Be right there." Clem hurried along with Patty to the intersection and past the Sunseeker. There they found Sarah and Sin kneeling near a street light on the corner. As they neared the pair, they could see they were working together to wrap a spool of barbwire around the base of the light.

"How's it's coming?" asked Patty.

"We're pretty much done with this post," said Sin as Sarah passed him the spool of wire. "Help me carry this to the next light across the street."

"Got it." Patty carefully grabbed the spool's handle and the pair started slowly moving across the road, taking great care to unspool the wire behind them.

"Clem, come on," called Sarah. "We can get started on the other one."

"Coming." Clem eyed the ankle high barbwire running across the road and carefully stepped over it. She hurried after Sarah, following her to a different corner of the intersection where another spool was sitting. Sarah carefully wrapped the wire attached to it around the bottom of the lamppost, then removed a metal clip from her pocket. She quickly threaded the end of the wire through the clip, then attached the clip to the rest of wire to create a loop around the base of the streetlight, just as Devlin had instructed them.

"Okay, now let's wrap it around a few times and then we'll move onto the next one across the street," said Sarah as she passed the spool to Clem.

"Got it." Clem wrapped the barbwire around the post as far as she could, then Sarah took it and wrapped it as far as she could. After a few passes, Sarah moved the spool away from the post. Clem grabbed one side of the handle sticking out of the spool while Sarah held the other, and the pair started walking forward slowly into the road to unspool the wire.

"You said yesterday that Shaffer's did this, right?" asked Clem.

"Sorta, I saw some people there do something like this once," said Sarah. "Before they ever built the wall, I heard someone yelling one day and snuck out to see what was happening. These people pulled up to the parking lot in a truck, then two of them immediately tied a rope between a couple of trees on each side of the road. When some lurkers came up after them, most of them tripped over it."

"And then those people bashed their heads in," concluded Clem.

"Yep, and it looked easy too, probably because most of the lurkers were already on the ground."

"I still remember the look on Devlin's face when you told him that part," said Clem with a smirk. "He never thought how much easier things would be if they only ran barbwire just high enough for walkers to trip over."

"There were only like a dozen lurkers then," said Sarah. "I don't know how well this will work for more than that."

"I guess we'll find out."

Having reached the other side of the street, the pair stopped at the next lamppost and started wrapping the wire around it. They were making good progress, but Clem couldn't help but feel exposed every second they were outside. She still couldn't see walkers, but she knew they were out there somewhere.

"We're almost there," reported Devlin. "How y'all holding up?"

"We're working on setting up the barbwire," said Sarah.

"And there are no walkers close, but I see some a few blocks north of here," added Jet.

"Right, we're almost there. Stay alert."

Clem could hear the distant sound of an approaching truck now, which probably meant walkers could hear it as well. Like Patty had done earlier, the truck's engine shut off as it reached the off-ramp and coasted quietly downward, rolling to a stop near the Brave. As Clem and Sarah finished up with the barbwire, Devlin came rushing up to meet them.

"We can take it from here," he assured as he knelt down to take hold of the spool.

"Sin and I were going to fence in everything but the ramp to get back on the highway," explained Sarah as she removed a few clips from her pocket and handed them to Devlin. "That way if things go wrong, we can just drive out of here."

"Got it." Devlin turned around. "Anthony, give me a hand with this."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," said Anthony as he grabbed the spool.

"Why don't you two take a quick break?" suggested Devlin. "Might be a while before you'll get a chance to catch your breath again."

"Thanks, I had been wanting to check Omid," said Sarah as she took off towards the Sunseeker.

"Wait up." Clem ran after her friend and followed her to the entrance of Sin and Jet's RV. The door had been concealed by an odd tent like addition attached to the side of the vehicle. Looking carefully, Clem noticed there was a retractable awning deployed from the side of the vehicle, and hanging from it were cut up tarps forming primitive curtains. Moving in close, Clem noticed the fresh blood smeared across them.

"You think that will keep them from noticing us?" asked Clem.

"I hope so, it took me and Sin long enough to smear the lurker stuff on it," said Sarah as she gently pulled back one of the tarps. "Ugh, it was so gross."

Clem stepped inside and noticed the iron coat rack sitting by the door, just another piece of salvage they had discovered yesterday. Sarah hung up her raincoat and Clem tried to do the same, but her arm was just a few inches short of reaching the hook, much to her frustration.

"I've got it." Sarah grabbed the coat and hung it up for Clem, then the pair moved inside. The first thing they noticed was the sound of Omid crying. Clem exchanged a brief look of concern with Sarah, then they sprinted towards the bedroom together. Clem threw the door open and the pair found Omid sitting in the corner, crying to himself.

"Hey, don't cry," pleaded Clem as she removed her respirator and gloves. "We're here now and—"

"Nuh!" yelled Omid as he pulled away from Clem's grasp.

"Maybe he's hurt." Omid resisted Sarah as she tried to examine him, constantly pulling back whichever limb she tried to study.

"Nuh! Nuh!" repeated Omid every time Sarah touched him.

"Is he mad at us again?" wondered Clem.

"I put him down for a nap just before I went out to do the wire, that was like fifteen minutes ago at most," said Sarah.

"Come on OJ," pleaded Clem. "Be good, we just—"

"Ow-sah!"

"He wants to go out again," realized Clem.

"Now's really not a good time." Sarah quickly peeked out the window. "I guess we've got a minute before they finish with the barbwire. I'll go ahead to make sure it's safe and you can take him out for a few minutes."

"Got it." Sarah put her gloves and respirator back on while Clem moved in close to Omid.

"Come on OJ, you want to go outside?" Omid stopped sobbing, clearly recognizing that word. "Yeah, we'll go outside, you'll like that."

"Ow-sah," repeated Omid, sounding excited.

"Come on. Let's go out for a minute." Clem picked up the toddler and headed for the door, but stopped short of leaving. She looked at the crude curtains surrounding the space just outside the RV, hesitant to step forward until Sarah pulled back one of the tarps and motioned for Clem to come out.

"Here we go." Clem pinched Omid's nose to shield him from the rancid smell, then wished she had remembered to put her respirator back on as the horrid stench practically burnt her nostrils as she hurried past the curtains. Seeing Sarah standing watch in an intersection enclosed in barbwire gave Clem enough of a sense of security to ease her grip on Omid.

Looking at him, she saw Omid's eyes were wide open in astonishment as he gazed up at the sky. The sense of joy spreading across his face was so infectious that Clem couldn't stop herself from smiling as well. Quickly confirming there were no incoming threats, Clem gently sat Omid on the pavement, where he remained, spellbound by the sky.

He just continued to state up at the passing clouds for several minutes before he eventually stood up. Clem watch closely as Omid would move a few steps forward, then back suddenly as he tried to snatch clouds with his bare hands, only to pull back nothing every time. Clem wished she could enjoy watching Omid try to catch clouds, but all she could think about what was waiting just out of sight.

Anytime Omid wandered too far from the RV, Clem would have to pull him back. Omid didn't like this, and would loudly shout 'Nuh!' every time before resuming his sky gazing. Clem didn't like doing it either, but she had no choice as Omid seemed determined to wander further away from the RV each time. Eventually, he was moving right towards a piece of barbwire while looking straight up at the sky, forcing Clem to grab him with both hands, which just caused him to shout in protest this time.

"OJ, no," pleaded a desperate Clem.

"Nuh! Nuh!" refuted Omid as he tried to wriggle out of Clem's grip.

"Come on, let's take him back inside." Sarah hurried over to the tarp and pulled it back while Clem pinched Omid's nose again, a task made harder by his constant squirming. Clem placed the crying boy on the carpet while Sarah came in behind them.

"Now what?" asked Clem as she realized they were right back to where they started.

"I'll try to get him to settle down," said Sarah as she sat down beside a squealing Omid. "You go help the others, they should be ready by now."

"Okay." Clem slipped her gloves back on and grabbed her respirator when she noticed the coat rack of all things was trying to enter the RV. It fell forward onto the steps and rushing over to it, Clem found Jet outside trying to push it in. "Here, let me help." Clem grabbed the top of the coat rack and the pair carried it into the RV.

"Thanks. Jet closed the door behind him. "Granddad said they're about done with the barbwire, so I need to move the Sunseeker." Jet sat down in the driver's seat and started the engine. Watching the vehicle turn around, Clem noticed the lines of ankle high barbwire now enclosed three sides of the intersection. Jet turned the vehicle to only road still unblocked, revealing the barbwire extended back towards the highway, blocking off access to the underpass and the ramp they had taken to get here.

The only path left open was the narrow on-ramp leading back up to the highway, which Jet maneuvered the Sunseeker towards. He positioned the vehicle so it was aimed straight towards the ramp, then shut off the engine. Jet grabbed the coat rack, prompting Clem to grab the other end of it. They moved it back outside, then Jet moved to the nearest exterior compartment. He removed a pair of rain coats and handed one to Clem, which she put on, then he handed her a large piece of chalk.

Clem took the chalk and headed towards the on-ramp. She moved up to the barbwire and slowly wrote a large '8' on the asphalt. She then moved up to the intersection and wrote a '10' in front of the road on her left. As she headed for the part of the intersection facing north, Clementine paused as she looked out at the street ahead of her. They were far away, but Clem could see the shape of walkers moving about aimlessly in the distance.

"Hey." Clem looked over to see Jet standing next to her. "I saw them too, and I keep worrying they were going to come over here."

"They usually don't go anywhere unless they smell or hear something."

"What about if they see something?"

"I don't think they can see. If they do, they don't know what to look for."

"Granddad says it doesn't make sense they can smell," said Jet as he stared off at the walkers in the distance.

"Nothing about them makes sense," dismissed Clem.

"Yeah, but that means the stuff you know about them could be wrong." Looking over, Clem could see the uncertainty hiding behind Jet's eyes.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem as calmly as she could.

"I sure hope so." Jet knelt down and started drawing with this chalk, prompting Clem to do the same thing. Together, they wrote a big '12' across the pavement, then took a step back.

"Daylight's burning," crackled Devlin's voice from the radio. "We ready to do this?"

"The barbwire is finished," confirmed Patty.

"And I'm ready to knock some heads in," added an eager Anthony.

"I'll get what we need out of the RV," added Sin.

"And I'll be on top of it." Clem was surprised to hear Jet over the radio instead of next to her. Turning around, she discovered the boy had already raced back to the Sunseeker and returned to his position on the roof.

"Omid's still being a… pain," reported Sarah.

"Just stay in there," suggested Clem as she approached the Sunseeker. "One of us is supposed to stay inside anyway."

"Just be ready to hop in the driver's seat on a moment's notice," said Patty. "If this goes badly, we'll need to get out of here in a hurry."

"I will," said Sarah. "And I'll trade off with whoever needs a break first."

As Clem reached the Sunseeker, she could see Sin was removing a long roll of firecrackers from one of the exterior compartments. They had given it to him yesterday to hold onto, another souvenir from their trip to Alabama Fireworks World that they hadn't needed until today.

"Let's light this thing." Patty took the roll of fireworks from Sin.

"Sarah," said Clem into her radio. "Get ready to hold Omid's ears."

"Got it."

Patty unrolled the massive string of firecrackers in the middle of the intersection and Devlin knelt down to light them.

"Fire in the hole!" Devlin lit the firecrackers and everyone retreated back to the Sunseeker as the fuse burned down. Clem found herself instinctively removing her tomahawk from her shoulder, praying she was ready for what would come next. The fuse disappeared into the red paper encasing the firecrackers, and then nothing happened.

"You didn't keep your firecrackers in the outside bins did you?" asked Sin. "Because if they got wet in the flood, then—"

"No, we kept them all inside, along with the bottle rockets, and they worked," said Patty.

"Maybe it's a dud?" suggested Anthony.

"Or maybe it went bad," said Clem. "Maybe fireworks are like gas and—"

Clem was cut off by a series of deafening bangs that made her jump. The firecrackers had finally ignited and a series of tiny explosions were gradually tearing their way through the long strip of red paper laid out in the road. After the initial jolt brought on by the noise, Clem found herself growing more annoyed than anxious as she waited impatiently for the firecrackers to finish. After fifteen long seconds of non-stop explosions, the firecrackers were… about a quarter used up.

"Jesus, did you guys take the mother of all firecrackers!" yelled Anthony over the noise.

"We took them in case we ever needed a distraction!" yelled Patty back. "So we took the second biggest rolls in the shop because they'd make for really long distractions!"

"Let's just cut off a section from the roll next time!" suggested Sin.

"How bout right now!" Clem watched as Devlin removed a canteen from his waist and hurried over to the still erupting firecrackers. He poured water over a section of the strip just ahead of the explosions. The series of loud bangs were suddenly reduced to just a few stray pops.

"Oh thank God," said Patty, sounding out of breath, possibly from yelling.

Clem watched as Devlin removed a knife from his belt and knelt down to cut what remained of the firecrackers away from the section he soaked.

"Jesus, that was the second biggest?" asked Anthony.

"The biggest one was the size of a cake," informed Clem.

"Glad you guys didn't take that one," said Devlin as he rolled up what remained of the firecrackers. "We could probably cut what's left of this one into ten smaller strips, easy."

"And we still got two more full ones after that," noted Sin. "I think it's safe to say, we're well stocked on firecrackers for the moment."

"Hey!" Everyone turned in place and looked up to see Jet staring down at them from on top of the RV. "They're coming, a bunch of them, twelve o'clock!"

"Let's move with a purpose," said Devlin as he set the firecrackers down and removed a removed a nightstick from his belt while keeping a knife gripped in his right hand. Clem followed Devlin along with the others, removing the sheath from her tomahawk's head and placing it in her pocket as she took her place in front of the barbwire. "Kid," said Devlin into his radio. "Be sure to call out the infected as you see them."

"I will," answered Jet. "There's some moving in from two o'clock as well, but they're still far away."

"Let us know when they get closer," instructed Devlin. "And watch our flanks and six, the last thing we need is to get boxed in by these things."

"Got it," said Jet.

Clem watched anxiously as she spotted the walkers. The few flickering shapes she had seen in the distance before had grown into a steady march of withered corpses moaning softly as they drifted ever closer a few clumsy steps at a time. Seeing them approach wasn't what scared Clem, what scared her was that more walkers kept coming into view.

They moved very slowly, but this just made them more unnerving as it gave everyone plenty of time to behold their massive numbers. Every group of them was followed by more, and those followed by more still, until they had formed into a massive mob of deadly ghouls covering the length of the road, all marching towards where Clem and the others were standing, anxious to indulge their never-ending appetite for flesh.

"Jesus there's a lot of them…" Patty whispered under her breath, which prompted Clem to pick up her radio.

"Sarah."

"Yeah?"

"Be ready to drive, in case this doesn't work."

"I will."

"Don't bunch up," Devlin warned the others. "And be aware of your surroundings, we'll have enough to worry about without accidentally hitting each other."

"Why'd you look at me when you said that?" asked Anthony.

"I wasn't," assured Devlin.

"They're almost here." Sin's words brought everyone's attention back to the road. The first cluster of walkers had nearly reached the intersection, and everyone readied their weapons. There was a tense quiet amongst the group, allowing the noise of the dead's march to fill the air. That uneven shuffling that sounded like hundreds of slabs of meat being dragged over asphalt filled Clem with dread. The last time it had been this loud was when they were leaving Shaffer's, and this time they were standing right in front of a herd.

The first walker reached the intersection and snagged its foot on the wire as it stepped forward. There was a loud cracking as its head slammed into the pavement, followed by a louder cracking as Anthony brought his bat down on the bastard's head. It erupted like a ripe melon, sending flecks of blackened blood and bits of brain matter all across the pavement.

"First kill!" cheered Anthony before turning back to the road.

Three more walkers advanced; two tripped on the barbwire while the third managed to avoid it. Clem brought her tomahawk down on the nearest one's head, and Sin quickly eliminated the other one that tripped. Looking up, Clem watched as Devlin attacked the one still standing. The man swung a nightstick in one arm, smashing it across the walker's face with enough force to send it reeling in that direction. Devlin then pierced the walker's eye socket with his knife so quickly, Clem only knew what he had done when he pulled his arm back.

Devlin shoved the now lifeless corpse backwards and over the barbwire with a single mighty push. The body landed on the pavement in front of another walker, who tripped over it and fell face first onto the wire where Patty brought her machete down on it. Anthony kicked the corpse off the wire just in time for another handful of living dead to stumble forward.

Once again, most of them tripped, making them easy targets, and the ones who didn't were quickly dispatched and tossed out of the way just in time for the next set to approach and repeat the cycle. The initial sense of fear Clem had felt was quickly replaced with one of tedium. The raincoats the group wore rendered them invisible to the clueless would-be killers, and the increasing stack of bodies piling up eventually made the barbwire redundant, with walkers constantly tripping over their own fallen comrades.

"Walkers closing in on two o'clock," reported Jet over the radio. "There's also a few at six and ten o'clock, but not many and still far away."

"Me and Clem will handle it," announced Patty as she took a step back from the front line. "We'll call if we need help." Patty looked at Clem and a single nod was all the confirmation that was needed. The duo moved towards the right side of the intersection and readied themselves for the incoming walkers. Clem was relieved to see the walkers approaching from this street were fewer in number and spread out, but was annoyed to see the line of them extended into the horizon.

Much like before, the walkers usually tripped on the barbwire, making them easy to kill, and the few lucky enough to avoid the wire were taken down shortly after. The longer waits between walkers reaching the wire gave Clem more time to observe them. She noticed most of them looked even worse than walkers she had confronted in the past. Clothes so faded and torn they were little more than rags, spindly limbs whose flesh had been whittled away by the elements, and sunken faces that more closely resembled rotten masks ready to be ripped off their skulls.

After several dozen kills, Jet announced walkers were nearly at their six and ten o'clock positions. Devlin ordered Sin and Anthony to cover them, then swapped places with Patty and Clem, saying they could use a break. Initially, Clem didn't understand how covering the main road would be a break, but then she saw the roadblock of bodies that had formed on their twelve o'clock position.

Tackling walkers here became more of a test of patience than endurance. They would trip repeatedly just during their approach and many of them were reduced to crawling over a growing pile of corpses to get to the intersection, with some of them getting stuck along the way. Even if they navigated to the intersection, Patty and Clem would be ready to kill them. Each swing of Clem's tomahawk caused the pain in her right arm to grow a little more. At first, it was just a minor sting, then a constant soreness, then finally a particularly hard swing caused a stabbing pain to shoot up her arm.

"Ow!" Clem dropped her tomahawk and started rubbing her bicep.

"You okay?" Patty rushed over to Clem's side.

"It's just the bruise on my arm," assured Clem.

"Why don't you go take a break?" suggested Patty.

"I'll be okay," insisted Clem as she picked up her tomahawk. "I'll—ah!" Tightening her grip on the tomahawk sent another shooting pain up her arm.

"Go get some rest Clem." Looking around, Clem could see the others all still working to kill walkers in the distance, causing the girl to sigh. "They seem to be slowing down anyway."

Clem sighed. "Okay." The girl slowly slumped back to the Sunseeker. After moving past the curtains, she tried hanging up her raincoat, only for this to strain her already sore arm trying to reach the top of the coat rack. The coat fell onto the pavement and Clementine just shrugged as she headed inside the vehicle and towards the bedroom.

"Kem-men!" Immediately Clem felt Omid hugging her legs. "Muh-boo!"

"I love you too," assured Clem with a weak laugh. She moved to hug Omid, only to realize she was still holding the tomahawk.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah as she took the weapon from Clem.

"Yeah, just tired," said Clem as she took off her gloves.

"I should go out and help then. I'm surprised they haven't needed help yet." Clem grimaced when she heard that. "I've been watching from the windows; there's so many of them."

"Yeah…" said Clem as she knelt down to hug Omid, wincing a little from the soreness of her bruises.

"But it looks like it's working," said Sarah, sounding enthusiastic.

"How far away is the shopping center?"

"I think fives miles." Clem sighed. "You rest, I'll go help the others." Sarah carried the tomahawk out while Omid walked over to pick up something seated in the corner.

"El-muh!" he said as he held out the stuffed elephant.

"Yeah, I see her." Clem slipped her shoes off and collapsed onto the bed. It was a great relief to get off her feet, but it sadly didn't last. Omid refused to be ignored, so Clementine was forced to find ways to keep him happy. Making Elma dance, doing faces, tickling him, all done for the benefit of keeping Omid entertained. After what felt like an eternity, Omid became as tired as Clem felt and she was able to lull him to sleep with a little rocking.

After tucking the boy into the makeshift crib Sarah had created out of drawer and some blankets, Clem decided to briefly check outside. Jet had made a few announcements a while ago but had been silent since then, and Clem couldn't see much from the windows. Heading out and grabbing her raincoat, Clem was shocked by the massive stacks of dead bodies that had accumulated in every direction she looked.

Twelve o'clock's barbwire was gone now and had been replaced with what was effectively a short wall made out of dead walkers; it would look right at place outside of Crawford. Ten and two featured uneven mounds of bodies that could probably become walls themselves with enough time and corpses. Even the roads near the highway were littered with dead walkers that must have numbered well over a hundred, and loose bodies littered the intersection in every direction Clem looked. Even breathing through her respirator, Clem still got a faint whiff of the overwhelming stench polluting the air, and it made her feel a little like gagging.

"Are you okay?" Clem looked over to see Sarah rushing up to meet her.

"Yeah, I got OJ to take a nap and came out to get some fresh air." Clem looked out at the piles of bodies again. "I think I picked a bad time to do that."

"There's a few more off in the distance at twelve o'clock," announced Jet over the radio. "I can't find any more though, even with my binoculars."

"A hundred and three!" Turning her head, Clem watched as Anthony smashed a walker's head in as it leaned over the wall of bodies. The bat caved in its skull and the corpse fell dead onto the barricade, becoming just another brick in the wall. "How many did you kill?"

"Too many," said Devlin to himself as he shook his head. "I remember them being a lot harder to kill than this."

"The raincoats make all the difference," said Anthony.

"Yeah, it's like they don't even know we're here when we wear these," realized Devlin, as if he didn't believe what he was saying. "But… but it's more than that. I swear, I used to have to hit a lot harder to put these things down. Some of them didn't even need the knife, the nightstick was enough."

"I noticed that too," said Clem as she took a step forward. "The first walker I killed I had to hit a bunch of times in the head. I was smaller then, but I still remember it was much harder to kill one than it is now."

"They're immortal, but not invincible," stated Sin as he and Patty joined the group. "Their injuries never heal, not as far as we know, so every blow and every fall they take weakens them, permanently."

"The weather probably doesn't help either," added Patty. "Spending months outside in the rain, snow, wind, everything; it's gotta take a toll on them after a while. A lot of them looked ready to fall over without our help."

"Wonder how long it'll take until they just finally die on their own," asked Jet from on top of the RV.

"They don't need sleep, or even need to eat even though they want to," noted Sarah. "But they're stupid, and do things that hurt themselves. I saw that some of the lurkers didn't even get back up after they tripped, like they broke their neck. They'd probably just kill themselves chasing things like thunderstorms eventually."

"Yeah, eventually," said Anthony as he wiped the blood off his bat. "But that ain't happening today."

"I can't believe we killed so many though," awed Clem as she continued to study the piles upon piles of bodies. "We probably could have killed all the walkers in Titusville had we thought of this then."

"There were only three of us then," reminded Sarah. "And we've still got a while to go before we get to the shopping center."

"All right then," said Devlin as he removed his gas mask and took a deep breath. "So far the plan is working; we've cleared out most of the infected in earshot of this intersection. I was thinking we take a quick rest then move up to our next target; any objections?"

Sarah, reluctantly, raised her hand.

"What's your objection?" Devlin asked her.

"Well… I… I wasn't objecting," stuttered Sarah. "But I was thinking, for the next area, we should use more barbwire. Run a couple of lines at different heights, that way it's harder for them to avoid it, and also add some barbwire further back from the intersection. It takes them a while to get back up and some of them don't get back up at all."

"That's good thinking, we'll do that. Anyone else with a suggestion?" No response from the rest of the group. "All right, I'll keep watch for stragglers while everyone takes fifteen, after that we'll move out."

"So he's in charge now?" mumbled Anthony as Devlin moved away from the group.

"He asked if you had objections," reminded Sin in-between breaths. "Do you?"

"No, but—"

"Then save your breath," suggested Sin as he staggered towards the Sunseeker. "You'll need it."

Since Omid was still in the bedroom, Clem followed Sin inside, Jet and Sarah coming up behind her as she removed her raincoat. As they all went in, the first thing they noticed was Sin sitting on the couch, rubbing his hands while taking slow breaths.

"Are you okay?" asked Jet as he approached his grandfather.

"I'm fine." Clem noticed Sin suddenly stopped rubbing his hands, as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"No you're not." Jet's insistence was only answered by a silent stare from his grandfather. "At the next intersection, I'll kill the walkers and you can be on lookout, that way you can rest."

"No, I can handle this," insisted Sin. "You don't need to worry about—"

"I am worried about you." Again, Sin just stared at Jet in response, as if he couldn't think of a retort. "You're the one who keeps telling me these are hard times, and I have to be strong."

"We all have to be strong," corrected Sin. "That includes me."

"Nobody is strong all the time," argued Clem.

"And you won't be strong if you give yourself a heart attack." Sin's eyes narrowed slightly upon hearing that.

"Me and Clem can stay with Jet to help him," assured Sarah. "I know it's scary, but the smell, or whatever it is, means they don't even know we're there."

Sin let out a long sigh, then fiddled with something attached to his belt. "Here." Sin handed Jet a small machete that was still holstered in its nylon sheath. "And I suppose one of you should take this too." Sin shifted in place and removed something clipped to his belt.

Everyone looked at the grenade in the man's hand for a moment, possibly weighing the responsibility or danger it represented. Seeing the hesitation on Jet and Sarah's faces, Clem took the grenade for herself, even though she didn't want it. It felt strange holding something so deadly in the palm of her hand. Clem quickly but carefully secured it, using the safety handle as a belt clip to slid it into place near her holster.

"I'm gonna lie down for a while," said Sin, exhaustion hanging in his voice as he slowly stood up. "Come get me if I'm needed for anything."

"Be careful not to wake up Omid," cautioned Clem.

"I will." Sin disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Clem alone with Jet and Sarah. Turning to Jet, she noticed the boy had a nervous look on his face as he removed the machete from its sheath. It was much different from the one Patty and Sarah shared, appearing more like a long and curved knife that got very thick in the middle, almost like the blade had a fat belly.

"I guess if you two can do this, so can I," said Jet, sounding unsure.

The fifteen-minute break came and went in the blink of an eye. All anyone had any time for was getting some water and a little bit to eat before Devlin was calling for them to pack up and move out. Checking on Omid before they returned to the road, Clem was surprised to see not only was he still asleep, Sin was as well.

Being a grandfather, Clem knew he had to be much older than the rest of them, but he never really appeared elderly to her until just now. The look of exhaustion on his face that persisted even after falling asleep and the small wrinkles on his hand that made it look like the skin had been pulled a little too tight all made the normally tall and proud man look quite frail.

Clem was about to close the door when she remembered Jet's comment about Sin having a heart attack. Looking at the man, then eyeing Omid still asleep next to the bed in his crib, she suddenly had a horrible thought of Sin dying, then coming back and eating Omid. She found herself instinctively moving forward to collect the boy, but stopped herself from going through with it. Instead, she turned to Sin, then gently pulled the blanket over his shoulders before returning to the front.

The group was soon on the road again, maneuvering through an opening in the bodies Devlin had cleared and heading north a few blocks before turning west. The fast food restaurants, single story offices, and other signs of the city outskirts very quickly faded away and were replaced with trees and open land, as if they had taken a wrong turn back into the country.

One thing that didn't change was Clem could see walkers through the window. Few in number and always distant, but they were there, a constant reminder of all the other ones waiting just out of sight. Devlin and Anthony must have noticed them as well since their truck came to a stop not long after Clem wondered if they were moving too deep into unknown territory.

The two men emerged from their truck with their weapons at the ready, prompting Clem to do likewise. Jet had driven slowly so as not to disturb the tarps hanging from the vehicle's awning, meaning they had a safe spot to get ready. Clem, Jet and Sarah moved the coatrack back outside into the tented area and retrieved their raincoats and a spool of barbwire. Patty emerged from the Brave right behind them and grabbed one of the spools and before long everyone was working to booby trap the area.

This intersection was more isolated than the other, with the group having to use phone poles to run the wire since there were no lampposts here, and the only building actually at the intersection itself was a single small gas station. Behind it was a row of houses leading north into the horizon, but beyond that was just open land in every other direction they looked. This made spotting incoming threats easier but made it harder to implement Sarah's idea of additional wires, forcing the group to use street signs, fence posts, and anything else anchored beside the road.

All the time they were working, Clem was still afraid of being attacked. Like before, she occasionally spotted a walker off in the distance, but the only ones that ever got close to them were swiftly killed by Anthony shortly after arriving, and no others drifted closer without provocation. Despite this, Clem worked to finish their defenses as quickly as possible, always fearful of what she couldn't see.

With the preparations nearly done, Clem noticed Patty was struggling to keep pace with the others, hunched over as she moved slowly from task to task. Realizing she had worked through the previous attack with no break except for the one they all received, Clem conferred with Sarah and they both approached Patty with the suggestion of her watching Omid while the others fought this time. She was resistant, but only briefly before accepting the offer. After putting the last of the barbwire up, all three of them returned to the Sunseeker.

"I really appreciate this, seriously," professed a weary Patty as she removed her shotgun and machete before hanging up her raincoat.

"It's okay," assured Sarah as she took the machete for herself. "I didn't even have to kill many of them at the first stop, so I'm not tired yet."

"And my arm is feeling better," added Clem as they stepped inside.

"Just come tag me in the second anyone needs a break, I'll—"

The sound of Omid screaming sent everyone racing towards the bedroom. Throwing the door open, they found Omid trying to pull away from Sin with all his might.

"Mah! Mah!" chanted a determined Omid as he kept trying to yank the sock out of Sin's hand.

"He woke up," said Sin, a bored look etched onto his face.

"Well good news, I can take over as babysitter," said Patty as she entered the room. "We're just about ready to get started."

"You already put up the barbwire?" Clem nodded at Sin. "I guess I should get up top." Sin let go of the sock and Omid fell backwards onto the ground.

"Mah-bah!" he declared as he crawled away with the sock in hand.

Heading back out, everyone assumed their positions as Devlin readied more firecrackers. He used his knife to cut off a section from the big roll and positioned it in the middle of the road. Inching closer to Jet as Devlin grabbed his lighter, Clem could sense the boy's anxiety. The machete was trembling in his hands and even with the respirator on, Clem could tell he was breathing heavily.

"They're slow, you're not," whispered Clem. "And they're stupid, but you're not."

"There's hundreds of them, and only a few of us," whispered Jet back. "And they only have to bite us once to kill us."

"And we know that," argued Clem. "That's why we're wearing these raincoats and why we put up barbwire, that's how we killed hundreds of them at the last intersection."

"Yeah, you're right, it's just…"

"Scary, I know," assured Clem. "The first time I had to—"

Clem was cut off by the firecrackers, which once again filled the air with the deafening sound of a hundred tiny but loud explosions. Thankfully, they only lasted about ten seconds this time, and as the air cleared everyone heard their first update over the radio.

"I can see a large number of them approaching from twelve and nine o'clock," reported Sin. "None elsewhere yet."

"All right, Anthony take her and cover nine o'clock," said Devlin as he gestured to Sarah. "I'll take twelve with them." Clem and Jet stepped forward as soon as they saw Devlin looking at them, taking up position beside the man. It wasn't long until Clem could see another mob of walkers approaching slowly from the front. She tightened her grip on the tomahawk and waited anxiously as they gradually grew nearer.

Before they could actually reach the intersection, the walkers at the front of the mob had to navigate past the additional two lines of barbwire that the group had placed in the road. It was actually comical watching them fall on their face, struggle to get back up, then trip over the next wire. One hit the pavement mouth first, shattering most of its already rotten looking teeth. Another managed to put its arms out as it fell, but instead of breaking the walkers fall, the fall snapped its arm in half instead.

The first walker to finally reach the intersection already had its face caved in from the previous falls, and the second it tripped over the final wire Jet brought his machete down on the back of its head with a sudden and violent swing. There was a sickly cracking sound as the blade broke through the skull, followed by a by pitiful final moan.

"See," said Clem. "You can do it."

"Yeah, I guess so." Jet tried pulling his machete free, but it remained stuck in the walker's skull, and his attempts to free it just moved the corpse instead. Clem put her foot down on the dead walker's skull, which finally allowed Jet to pull the machete out. "Ugh, this is so gross," said Jet as he looked at pieces of sticky and rotten flesh clinging to the blade.

"I know," said Clem. "Before we used raincoats, we just used to put that stuff on our clothes."

"Ugh," said Jet as he shook off the bits of flesh. "I don't know how you did it."

"Most of the time, I was too scared to even think about it," she admitted.

Defending the second intersection went mostly the same as the first, except it was made easier by the extra layers of barbwire that helped to mediate the influx of dead. The injuries brought on by repeated falls made them easier to kill, while others just died from smashing their head on the hard asphalt too many times. Even the lucky few who managed to avoid the wires would usually arrive at the intersection alone and would meet a hasty end from whoever was in arm's reach.

After killing a couple dozen walkers, Clem's arm started bothering her again. It wasn't just the bruise this time, her shoulder was getting sore from swinging her tomahawk so much. After finishing off a couple more walkers, Clem looked for assistance in dealing with the next approaching group. Devlin had been called off to defend their six o'clock, but Jet was supposed to be helping Clem with their twelve. Looking around, she found the boy desperately trying to remove his machete from a downed walker's skull.

"Jet," said Clem. "Do…"

"I'll be right there," he insisted as he placed his foot on the corpse's head. Clem turned around to see a couple more walkers nearing the intersection. One tripped and Clem brought her tomahawk down on its skull while the other managed to shamble over the wire. Turning back to Jet, Clem watched as he grabbed the blade with both hands and kicked off the walker's skull. The machete came out with a sudden jerk and Jet let out a cry of pain as he fell backwards onto the pavement.

As the boy tried to stand, Clem noticed the walker suddenly lurched forward at Jet, prompting him to rush backwards towards the Sunseeker. The walker chased after Jet, hissing loudly as Clem dropped her tomahawk. Jet tripped over his own feet as he tried to back away just as the hungry beast charged forward. Two quick shots sliced through the side of the walker's head and its now lifeless body collapsed onto Jet as Clem holstered her pistol.

"What was that?" asked Devlin over the radio while Clementine rushed to Jet's side.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she helped to pull the walker off of him.

"I… I think so," said Jet, his voice still gripped in fear. "Thanks."

As Jet stood up, Clem noticed blood dripping from his right hand.

"Somebody, answer me, what was that shot?" asked Devlin.

"I shot a walker that attacked Jet," reported Clem.

"What?" asked a startled Sin. "Why?"

Clem watched anxiously as Jet removed the glove on his hand, revealing a clean slice running across his palm. Looking carefully, Clem didn't see anything that even remotely resembled teeth marks.

"He cut his hand and the walker smelled the blood, but he's okay." Clem breathed a slight sigh of relief as she put the radio down, only to notice Jet still appeared disturbed. "You are okay, right? It didn't—"

"No, it didn't bite me," assured a still distressed Jet.

"And when it fell, its teeth didn't touch you or—"

"Its head landed on the pavement next to me."

"Good, then—"

Jet rushed into the Sunseeker, leaving Clem to wonder what to do next. Looking at the road she was covering, the stream of walkers had slowed to a crawl and probably any one person could handle it. She then noticed the dropped machete and Jet's glove. Thinking it best not to leave something covered in fresh blood around, Clem grabbed both. As she looked up, she saw Sin moving towards where she was standing.

"Where's Jet?" he asked, unable to conceal the fear in his voice.

"Inside," answered Clem. "I was about to go—"

A loud crack sounded and Clem turned around in time to see a couple of walkers tripping into the intersection.

"Dammit," swore Sin under his breath. "Take care of them, I'll go check on Jet."

"My shoulder really hurts." Clem's words halted Sin mid-stride as he tried to enter the RV. "I can check on Jet for you, if you just—"

Spin spun around, walked back to Clem and held out his hand. Seeing a bit of Jet's blood still on the machete, Clem handed the man her tomahawk instead.

"If there's anything wrong I'll tell you," promised Clem.

"Thank you." Sin rushed past Clem and immediately swung at the nearest walker. He nearly cleaved its head clean off its body, then spun around and jammed the tomahawk's blade right through another walker's face with a surprising burst of speed. Seeing that Sin was sufficiently motivated to kill walkers now, Clem headed into the RV. The first thing she noticed was Patty, who was staring at the bathroom door.

"So what happened?" she asked. "I heard you say Jet cut his hand, then he barged into the bathroom without a word and won't answer me."

"I'll talk to him," said Clem. "Could you keep watch? Sin had to take over twelve o'clock for me."

"Sure thing partner, I'm feeling good and rested anyway." Patty hurried out of the RV, leaving Clem alone outside the bathroom door. Listening closely, she heard Jet groaning in pain inside, which prompted her to knock first. After receiving no answer, Clem cracked the door open. Peeking inside, she saw Jet wincing in pain as blood and water was dripping into the sink from his hand.

"Let me help you," said Clem as she stepped inside.

"I'll do it myself," insisted Jet as he turned away from Clem. "I should at least be able to do that after you had to save me."

"Are you mad at me because I saved you?"

"No… I'm mad at myself." Clem watched as Jet hung his head in shame and clenched his hand shut, as if he was refusing her help. "I'll be okay. I'm pretty sure I can't screw this up."

Clem felt sorry for Jet, having known the painful sting of failure too many times herself. She tried to think of something to say, but then got another idea. Clem rolled up her left sleeve and held out her arm so Jet could see the large faded scar on it.

"How did you get that?" he asked.

"A dog bit me, hard," said Clem.

"A dog?"

"Yeah, I saw one in the woods one day. It walked right up to me and I started petting it, not even thinking it could ever bite me," sighed Clem as she pulled her sleeve back down. "Someone had to give me stitches because of that. If I hadn't let them help me, I probably would have bled to death or gotten an infection. "

"I don't think this is as bad as that." Jet sighed. "But I get the point." Jet opened his hand and Clem grabbed a clean washcloth from the counter and a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet.

"This will hurt," warned Clem as she dabbed the cloth with alcohol.

"Hopefully not as much as cutting my hand like an idiot." Clem started cleaning Jet's injury with the washcloth, prompting the boy to wince in pain again. "I feel so stupid."

"It's okay, we all make mistakes. I've made a ton of stupid mistakes, just ask Sarah."

Jet let out a weak laugh. "She'd just say you're the most amazing person she's ever met."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because that's what she wrote in her diary."

Clem turned to Jet suddenly. "You read her diary?"

"Yeah, I was asking her about where you two had been and she mentioned she was trying to write it all down in a diary, and when I asked her if I could read it, she said yes."

"Oh…" Clem was surprised to hear that, wondering what else Sarah and Jet had discussed while she wasn't around.

"I think it's clean now," said Jet.

"Huh, oh, right." Clem set the washcloth aside and grabbed a bandage.

"I told her she should write more, but she says she hasn't had much time lately with everything that's happened."

"How much has she has written?" asked Clem, genuinely curious to how far Sarah had progressed since she last read her diary.

"The last thing I read was when she met you for the first time. She wrote, 'I didn't know it right then, but I'd find out later that Clementine was actually the most amazing person I've ever met in my entire life."

"She… she wrote that about me?" asked Clem as she applied the bandage.

"Yeah, well—"

Sin burst into the bathroom suddenly, eyes overflowing with fear and concern.

"I thought—"

"Patty agreed to cover for me," said Sin as he marched right up to Jet. "Are you—"

"I'm all right," assured Jet.

"You weren't—"

"He wasn't bitten," answered Clem.

"It's just a cut, and the walker smelled the blood," recapped Jet as Sin knelt down to examine the boy's hand.

"How did you cut yourself?" asked Sin in a stern voice.

"On the machete."

"The same one you were using to kill walkers?" asked Sin, sounding concerned.

"We disinfected the cut," said Clem.

"Was the blade covered in their blood?" Sin asked Jet.

"Probably, I had been using it all morning, why?" Jet's eyes widened in panic as he realized why Sin asked him that. "You think that infected me?"

"It doesn't work like that," assured Clem. "Only bites do that."

"You're sure?" asked a dubious Sin.

"Pretty sure," said Clem.

"Pretty?" repeated a frightened Jet.

"I've covered myself in their stuff more than once, and have been putting in on raincoats for a long time."

"But have you ever gotten any on an open cut?"

"No, but—"

"Oh God…" muttered a panicking Jet.

"But I got it in my mouth once." Both Jet and Sin turned to Clem. "I had a cold and didn't want walkers to hear me coughing, so I covered my mouth. There was still a lot of their… whatever on my hands, and I tasted it."

"But you were okay?" asked Jet.

"I threw up, and I got really sick later and passed out, but I think that was because I was already really sick. But, I didn't die, obviously."

Jet and Sin breathed a sigh of relief almost in sync with each other.

"Thank God," said Jet.

"You need to be more careful," lectured Sin. "How did you even cut your hand on the machete in the first place?"

"I—"

"It was getting stuck a lot," said Clem. "It's probably dull."

"It cut right through my glove," reminded Jet.

"Yeah, near the handle, but you hit the walkers with the end of it, that part is probably dull. When's the last time you sharpened it?"

"Sharpened it?" asked Jet.

"We… we never taught you how to do that," realized Clem. "And… we should have given you a gun too, so you could have killed that walker if you couldn't use your machete."

"I thought you said you didn't have any more guns," said Sin.

"I just remembered, we have my ankle gun. We could have given Jet that." An awkward silence followed as Clem dwelled on her own mistake.

"Somebody report," said Devlin. "We're short-handed and it looks like we're missing our lookout."

"We're okay," said Clem as she picked up her radio.

"And I'll be right out," added Sin. "Jet, stay here and—"

"But—"

"You hurt your hand, and I'm feeling better. Rest for now, please."

"Oh… okay." Clem noticed Sin didn't have her tomahawk; he had likely given it to Patty when they swapped places. Thinking it was better than no weapon, she handed Sin the machete and he left the bathroom.

"Thanks," said Jet.

"For what?" asked Clem.

"Saying it was the machete's fault, and not mine."

"It probably was, it was getting stuck. If anything, it's more my fault for not giving you a gun or teaching you to sharpen things." One look at Jet made it clear he still blamed himself. "I've done so many stupid things. The first time we tried getting bullets, I told Sarah to just park us right next to the gun shop that was surrounded by walkers. We just ran in there, then I spilled a box of bullets and had to shoot a walker, and then they all started coming in. I almost got me, Sarah and OJ killed because I was stupid."

"OJ?"

"Without me and Sarah, he would have starved to death."

"But what about Patty and Anthony?"

"We hadn't met them yet."

"Oh…"

"Kem-men!" called Omid as he came stumbling into the bathroom.

"I'm here, don't cry," assured Clem as she knelt down to pick up the toddler.

"Kem-men," repeated Omid as she picked him up.

"You want me to look after him?" asked Jet.

"I guess you'll have to," reasoned Clem.

"Not necessarily, I could go out and you could stay in."

"But your Granddad said—"

"I can rest on top of the RV and keep watch, that's not hard."

"Well, I could use a break."

"Great." Jet smiled at Clem, which made her smile a little. Jet returned to his position as lookout while Clem carried Omid back to the bedroom, where she soon discovered he needed changing. Despite that, she enjoyed her time with Omid. Looking after him was work, but work she liked a lot more than killing walkers all day. Clem actually began to feel a tinge of guilt for remaining inside so long, and was grateful when Sarah came into the RV desperate for a break.

Heading out, it's clear the bulk of the walkers had been killed by now. There were once again whole mounds of bodies piled up in every direction except for the road they drove in on, which only had a few scant corpses. Looking at twelve o'clock, Clem could see the line of walkers had been spread thin now, and killing what remained was largely a matter of patience. After trading Sarah's machete to Patty for the tomahawk, Clem took up position at twelve o'clock and waited.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and chased away the chilly morning, Clem found herself annoyed by the relatively sweltering heat. The raincoat, the respirator, even her hat all felt suffocating after a while and it was hard to wipe away sweat when you were wearing gloves partially caked in dried blood and rotten flesh. The piles of bodies had reached a point where what few walkers who remained had to crawl over all those who failed before them just to be easily killed like all the others.

"Two hundred… and twelve!" announced Anthony as he brought his bat down on a walker trying to climb over the pile of corpses at nine o'clock. "It's got… to be… a world record. Most kills… in a single day," said the young man in-between deep breaths. "Clem… how many… did you get?"

"I don't know, a lot," she shrugged before noticing a walker climbing over the twelve o'clock wall of bodies.

"You people… really need to start keeping count." Clementine brought her tomahawk down on the walker's head and killed it. Only as she removed her blade did she notice this walker was a child, a girl that didn't look much older than her. A closer examination revealed large bullet wounds running down both sides of her body. What Clem didn't know if those were there before or after the girl turned into a walker. She assumed after, but only because the image of a little girl being gunned down disturbed her more. "Seriously, it's not fun having the high score if I'm the only one playing."

"Maybe the rest of us don't find this fun," retorted Clem as she walked away from the other girl's corpse.

"Oh come, you guys are always telling me they're not people anymore," said Anthony as he followed after Clem.

"They used to be," Clem said under her breath as she moved towards Devlin and Sin, who were dealing with a couple of walkers at six o'clock. Sin killed one of them as another came tumbling over the small mound of bodies. Devlin raised up his knife, but hesitated to strike.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she approached. "Why…"

Looking down, she saw the walker Devlin hadn't killed was a soldier. They were still wearing a large vest lined with pockets and a thick helmet. Who they were was a mystery, their face had been gnawed down to just a flailing skull held together with the thinest strips of rotten skin. The lower jaw, eyes, and tongue were all missing, and as they reached out their arms, Clem could see their hands were gone. The walker thrashed out at the air with its rotten stumps as its head swiveled back and forth on what remained of its severely gnarled neck.

"Friend of—"

Devlin angrily hammered the walker's head with his nightstick, over and over again, smashing it against the corpse's helmet repeatedly until he finally kicked the head with such force that it knocked it clean off the walker's shoulders and sent it flying across the area.

"So… not a friend," concluded Anthony.

"He's one of the OKC fuckers!" growled Devlin in a way that frightened Clem. "Thought we got all the bastards, but I guess this dumbass got himself eaten before we could shoot him. I hope it was painful you piece of shit!" Devlin kicked the corpse so hard it rolled over onto its back, revealing a rifle still attached to it.

"Well, at least that's one thing this fucker did for someone else." Devlin used his knife to cut off the shoulder strap and then grabbed the rifle. He unloaded and checked the magazine, then rolled the corpse back onto its back. Searching the pockets, Devlin retrieved a couple magazines and stood up. "Let's finish up and get out of here already."

Clem moved over to the soldier's decapitated head, which had rolled out of its helmet after being kicked. She noticed a bit of flesh near its scalp was twitching slightly, suggesting it was still alive, for the lack of a better word. But it was helpless now, its lower jaw and tongue was gone, and Devlin had broken most of the teeth connected to its upper jaw, all it could do is lay there and twitch, so Clem raised her tomahawk into the air and prepared to finish it off.

"Leave him!" ordered Devlin. "He deserves to rot." Clem felt intimidated by the man's stern order, but then he turned away and left her and the others alone to observe the severed head.

"You think if we took his teeth, and cut someone with them, it'd kill them?" asked Anthony

"What?" said Sin.

"I mean, it's bites that kill people, which means it must be something in their teeth right? Like rabies?"

"Rabies isn't spread by bites specifically, it's actually in the salvia." Sin looked down at the head. "I don't think these things salivate anymore."

"Which mean it's in the teeth." Anthony stared down at the head. "Or maybe it's in all the bones."

"That doesn't make much sense, then again, most of what we know about these things doesn't make sense. I suppose it could be something in their bones, reacting to the calcium. If we come back as them no matter how we die, perhaps whatever it is actually triggers the transformation early, and killing us is just a side-effect."

"If you took a femur, and sharpened it into a knife, it'd be like a poison blade that could kill people just by scratching them," realized Anthony.

"Assuming it is something in the bone, and not some other bizarre form of transmission," speculated Sin. "For all we know—"

Clem drove her tomahawk down into the walker's eye socket, finally killing it. "I think we've learned enough about walkers for today," she said as she walked off. "I want to get out of here too."

As it well past noon at this point, everyone stopped to eat lunch after they moved the vehicles away from the intersection. Clem returned to the Brave with Sarah, Omid and Patty for a while to enjoy some time together in their home. But other than Omid loudly demanding something to eat, there was little conversation between the group.

Part of it may have been fatigue setting in from their ongoing task, of which they were only half done, but in any case, none of them felt much like talking right now. Their meal didn't help either. They could only stomach a few canned chili peppers before it made them sick and Clem didn't even want to know what the substance in the can labeled 'tongues' was made out of. Trying to chew her way through that slimy stuff was a miserable enough experience without dwelling on it.

It was so bad, they didn't even offer any of it to Omid. Instead, Sarah took out the can of a corn she had saved from the Sunseeker. It was already half empty from feeding Omid breakfast, and by the time she was done giving him lunch it was completely empty. Their stomachs half empty and half full of things making them sick, the group elected to partake in the jam Winnie had left them. They each took only a spoonful, but spreading that decadently sweet sticky goodness across Clem's tongue was almost enough to make her forget about the rest of their awful meal.

After lunch, the group readied themselves for their next stop. Clem took some time to sharpen Sin and Jet's machete, as well clean off the blood from the rest of their weapons. While she was doing that, Patty retrieved Clem's ankle gun and gave it to Jet, double checking to make sure he knew how to use it properly, as well as apologizing for it being pink, to which Jet said he didn't care. Sarah was preoccupied with Omid's care, tending to his needs and giving him another short taste of the outside world before relocating him back to the Sunseeker for safe keeping.

After that, the group set out for their next destination. They went north for a couple of blocks then turned west until the road became a small bridge running over a four-lane highway. Clem could see walkers both north and south nearby, mostly off in the distance but a few ambling close to the overpass they parked just short of. Everyone got to work, but the geography made preparations more difficult this time.

They could easily run wires through the underpass to create a southern choke point, but the wide open road made it hard to reinforce their northern position. The group clumsily zig-zagged the barbwire between guardrails, abandoned cars, road signs, and anything else they could find to create obstacles for the walkers.

After that was the challenge of blocking walkers coming down the hill to the west of the road. A guardrail running alongside it created one barrier, and running wires from a road sign to the opposite ends of the rail created one more, but there was nothing left they could use to erect further hindrances for the walkers. The east side was left open, both as an escape route and because they had likely killed most of the walkers from that direction at their last stop.

With every reasonable precaution they could take, everyone took their positions before setting off another strip of firecrackers. As before, walkers came slowly pouring into the area, mostly from the north and south, but occasionally stumbling down the hill on the west side as well. Their wire wasn't as well set-up as the previous choke points, but the bigger area gave the group more room to spread out and reduce the chance of being boxed in.

One after another, walkers fell all around them, and more still came to take their places as the sun continued to sink. Clem could tell everyone was getting tired, with each wave of walkers being met with slower and less precise attacks. The raincoats kept them from being detected and their crude but complex web of wires prevented the dead from advancing too quickly, but the heavy burden of this seemingly endless task was beginning to weigh on everyone.

After what at least felt like an hour, the flow of walkers began to slow down, giving everyone much needed pauses in between attacks. The road was now littered what must have at least been a hundred corpses, and Clem could see more approaching in the horizon. They all begin to blur together for her after a while, just becoming a hazy slide show of rotted faces being punctured by her blade.

Then she saw something different approaching. At first she wasn't even sure it was a walker because it was so small, but it was. Waddling forward in a fashion even awkward for walkers was an undead toddler. He was bigger than Omid, but not by much. Clem guessed he couldn't be more than two years old at the most. He was completely naked, skin sickly and pale, only a few teeth in an otherwise empty mouth, stringy hair, and his big eyes covered by a strange white film.

His tiny steps carried him forward so very slowly that Clem could only imagine how long he had been following the noise of the firecrackers to get this far. His chubby arms were extended out in front of his body as he approached the first barbwire. His legs were shorter than the wire itself, so he couldn't trip. Instead, the wire connected with the toddler's stomach, slowly cutting him across his stomach.

Clem felt utterly transfixed at this horrible sight, a lone baby left to die only come back as one of the dead and tear up his body chasing a noise. Watching him rip open his belly on the barbwire, spilling his intestines on the ground, Clementine felt determined to act. She let go of her tomahawk and removed her pistol from its holster, then struggled to line up the sights on the poor child's head, then that head exploded into an eruption of blood.

"Two-sixty-seven!" Anthony had destroyed the undead toddler with a single swing of his bat, leaving just a tiny pair of legs attached to a severed torso with rotted organs spilling out onto the pavement. So sickening a sight to Clem she found herself panicking. Looking around at the massive piles of bodies surrounding her, she suddenly felt like she was suffocating. She put her gun away and ran up the hill towards where the Sunseeker was parked. Throwing off her raincoat, Clem charged through the vehicle and right into the bedroom as fast as her aching feet would carry her.

"Kem-men!"

"Omid," she said as she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the boy. "I love you, I love you…"

"Muh-boo," said Omid as he hugged Clem.

"Are you okay?" Clem looked over to see an alarmed Jet staring at her.

"Yuh… yeah," stuttered Clem. "Where… where's Sarah?"

"She said she needed a break from Omid, so I came down here and she took my place on watch. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I… I just needed a break," stuttered Clem.

"Okay, I'll go help out; my hand is feeling a lot better. If you need anything, just tell me."

"Thanks." Jet looked at Clem briefly, clearly worried, then left her to be alone with Omid. At first, Clem couldn't let go of Omid, finding the warmth of his body against her skin and the feeling of his heartbeat incredibly calming. Eventually she had to let him go, but she remained close the whole time, and eagerly indulged his every whim. Playing with the toys he gave her, reading any book he brought her, and hanging on his every babbled word; Clem only wished she could give him more. After a while, Omid began chanting 'Wah-wah' and Clem carried him to the front to fetch some water.

"Hey there." Clem looked over to see Devlin seated on the couch. He had removed his helmet, mask, vest and padding. Without them, he appeared a lot smaller. Not skinny, but still thinner than Clem had imagined. He also smelled kind of musky, but she figured that was true for all of them by now.

"Are you hurt?" asked Clem.

"Nah, just worn out," he said. "Needed a break myself."

"Oh, okay." Clem set Omid down and filled up his cup with water. She sat down in a chair behind the passenger seat and invited Omid to join her. After she helped him climbed onto her lap, Clem put one arm around the boy while giving him the sippy cup in the other.

"You took off pretty quick."

Clem was surprised to see Devlin was looking at her. "I… I just—"

"I saw it too. That little boy out there."

"He was just a little baby," said Clem, finding it hard to fight the urge to cry. "I know he was already dead but… it even looked like OJ a little." Clem found herself squeezing Omid tighter after saying that. "It… it—"

"It's horrible," finished Devlin, sounding a little choked up himself. "Because it used to be a little boy." Clem nodded weakly at Devlin. "I may have knew his parents. There were at least a few couples in Tulsa with toddlers. I don't remember all their names, but I know only one couple made it out with their baby. The others…" Devlin covered his eyes with his hand and took a deep breath.

"Wah-wah," said Omid as he shook his empty cup.

"You're still thirsty," said Clem.

"I'll get it." Clem handed the cup to Devlin. He took it to the sink and quickly filled it. "I never got a chance to see this little guy the other day," Clem felt a little nervous as Devlin approached. He stopped in front of her and knelt down to look Omid in the eye. "How you doing there buddy?"

"Wah-wah," Omid told Devlin.

"Here you go." Devlin handed Omid the cup which Clem immediately helped to raise to his lips. "Have you and… Sarah right?" Clem nodded. "You two been raising this boy all by yourselves?"

"Yeah," said Clem with a nod.

"Damn, I'm seeing it and I can still hardly believe it."

"Me too," spoke a weary Clem.

"I've seen too many kids die," said Devlin, sorrow gripping his voice. "Schools were a bad place for kids to be during all this, a single infected gets in there and it could slaughter whole classes of them."

"It was spring break when the walkers came, so I wasn't in school then. But Sarah and I went to a school not long after OJ was born… there were so many dead kids there, and some of them were even younger than me."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, and that you've had to be on your own for so long." There was a sincerity in Devlin's voice that Clem found very comforting. It reminded her of how most well-meaning adults used to talk to children before things changed.

Feeling a restless Omid fidgeting in her arms, Clem set him on the carpet. Trying to think of a way to keep him entertained, Clem untied her shoe and slipped off her sock. Dangling it in front of Omid, the boy immediately took the challenge and grabbed it with both hands.

"Mah! Mah!" he said as he pulled on the sock as hard as he could.

"What would have happened if me and Sarah came to Tulsa before it was attacked?" asked Clem as she watched Omid try to take the sock from her.

"I told what you happened," said Devlin.

"I mean, what would happen to us? If me and Sarah drove up in our RV when Tulsa was still here, what would happen next? Would you search the RV and then tell us the rules?"

"Well yeah, we made people check their guns and ammo before they could come into town, then we'd want to get your names and a little more about you and where you've been."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"There were lots of people looking for lost family or news of other cities, so we made it a point to keep a list of names of everyone coming and going, and what they'd seen. If they got robbed or attacked by someone out there, we wanted to know what they looked like in case they ever came to town themselves. You know, stuff like that."

"That makes sense, but what about after that? Would you have let us in?"

"You guys? A couple of kids taking care of a baby?" asked Devlin. "Of course we'd let you in."

Clem found herself glad to hear that, but still hesitated from smiling. "And after that?"

"I… I guess we'd find someone to help look after you," reasoned Devlin.

"Look after us? Like who?"

"There were some other kids who had been… separated from their parents. We had to put together a kind of orphanage where we had some teachers and other people making sure they were being taken care of."

"Orphanage?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, I guess that makes it sound like something out of a Dickens novel, but really they were just trying to keep them happy, which isn't easy these days. Sometimes people, usually parents who had lost their own kids, would come by and spend time with the children there, sometimes even adopt them if the kids like them enough."

Clementine found the idea of being adopted strange and uncomfortable to think about. Despite seeking safety for so long, the idea of answering to someone claiming to be her adoptive mother or father after all this time just felt wrong in the young girl's mind. It felt almost incomprehensible to her now even.

"You don't trust us," said Devlin, noting Clem's apprehension. "Or me I guess, seeing as I'm all that's left."

"It's not that, I just don't think I'd want to be adopted."

"We wouldn't separate you from Sarah or your… baby," assured Devlin.

"I didn't think you would, that's just not what I want."

"Well, what do you want?" asked Devlin, genuinely curious. "If you came to Tulsa last year, and you were sitting in front of me then, and I said you could have whatever you wanted, what would you say?"

"I guess… I'd like a house or a room somewhere safe for me and Sarah and OJ to stay… and enough to eat."

"And?"

"That's it really. We would have helped you any way we could have, and…" Clem noticed Devlin was smiling at her now. "What?"

"It's just weird a kid your age, talking about wanting her own house."

Clem frowned slightly upon hearing that. "We had one once, in a little town called Spokeston. We spent six months there, just the three of us, and only left when the food ran out."

"That must have been hard for you guys."

"Actually, that was probably the happiest I've been since things changed," realized Clem. "If we could have just stayed there…"

Clem was a little surprised when she felt Devlin's hand gently set down on her shoulder. "We had plenty of empty houses in Tulsa," he said with a smirk. "I think if you had come here, back when here was somewhere worth being, you could have convinced us to give you one to keep all to yourself."

"Not just myself," smiled Clem. "Sarah and OJ would be there as well."

"Mah!" Clem felt the sock finally be pulled from her grip. "Mah-bah."

Clem picked up Omid and set him on her lap.

"He sure is a cute little thing," said Devlin. "You and your friend are good moms."

"We hope so. We're always worried we're making mistakes."

"Every new parent is."

OJ continued to clutch the sock until he noticed Devlin looking at him. "Hah-dah?"

"Devlin," he said slowly as he gestured to himself.

"Deb-beb?"

"Dev—"

"Ahh, dammit!"

"Deb-bit," repeated Omid as Anthony stumbled into the RV, a look of excruciating pain on his face as he tightly clutched his right shoulder.

"What's wrong?" asked Devlin as Clem took hold of Omid, terrified of what Anthony was going to tell them.

"Are you bitten?" asked Clem as she found herself backing away from a wounded Anthony as he collapsed onto the couch.

"He's not bitten," assured Patty in a tired voice as she stepped inside. "Mr. High Score threw out his shoulder."

"Dammit," mumbled Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder.

"Deb-bit," repeated Omid with a smile.

"I told you should have taken a break," said Devlin.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just… I was so close to three-hundred," lamented a Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder. "Now I can't even hold the damn bat."

"Dab-bab." Clem felt a sudden urge to cover Omid's ears.

"Somebody get me some ice," pleaded Anthony.

"We don't have any, none of us have working freezers," reminded Patty.

"Shit…" Clem managed to cover Omid's ears before Anthony swore this time. "Well then, I guess I'm out of the game."

"Honestly, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up myself," said Patty, sounding out of breath as she sat down in the nearest chair.

"What's it look like out there?" Devlin asked Patty.

"Jet said there's almost none left. He's helping Sarah and Sin finish cleaning up what's left." Patty turned to Clem "You dropped your tomahawk but Jet said he'll bring it back when he's done."

"So we can move again soon?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, we could, but…" Patty let out a long sigh.

"Yeah, I'm worn out too," admitted Devlin. "And the sun's going down."

"And I'm crippled now," groused a frustrated Anthony.

"It might be best to pack it up and try again tomorrow," concluded Patty.

"Mah-bah." Clem looked down to see Omid looking up at her.

"You hungry?"

"Mah-bah," repeated Omid a little louder.

"I'll try to find you something to eat." Clem looked through the cabinets of the Sunseeker until she found some canned goods. Clem grimaced as she evaluated the small selection of odd and obscure vegetables, trying to figure out which ones Omid would most likely not spit out after two bites. As she pulled back a can to examine it, her hand bumped into her pistol. She didn't even realize she was still wearing it until now, or the grenade.

"Devlin," said Clem. "Our next stop would be the last one, right?"

"Yeah, but there's gotta be a bunch of them still there and I don't know if I've got the strength to hack through another hundred of these bastards."

"Oh, so you were keeping count," noted Anthony.

"I'm guessing, I've had to have killed at least a hundred of them by now."

"What if we just shoot them?" suggested Clem.

"You'd have to loan me a gun," said Devlin. "The rifle I took earlier is effectively ruined. After being left open to elements for so many months, that thing doesn't even cycle right anymore."

Clem thought to herself for a moment, then marched out of the RV. She walked the short distance back to where the Brave was parked and headed inside. She retrieved the automatic rifle stowed in the closet then headed back out in time to see Sarah, Sin and Jet stumbling towards the Sunseeker.

"Clem," said Sarah. "What are you doing with that?"

"Did something happen?" asked Jet.

"No, but maybe something should," she said.

"What does that mean?" asked Sin.

"Come on." Clem motioned with her head and led the others back into the Sunseeker. Once inside, she immediately offered the rifle to Devlin. "This is the same gun, right?"

"Yeah, it is," said Devlin as he took the weapon. "I remember your friend here aiming this at me the day before yesterday; surprised you weren't toting it around earlier."

"It's only got like six bullets," mumbled Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder. "I guess you've got plenty now though."

"We all have plenty of bullets," reminded Clem. "Let's just shoot the walkers and get the food already."

"Is that what we're discussing?" asked Sin as he found a place to sit. "I thought we agreed it'd be a waste of our ammo to do that."

"We've got lots of ammo, what we don't have is a lot of food," stated Clem. "I'm sick of eating junk; junk that's going to run out soon. I want good food, and I want it tonight, not tomorrow when we'll all just be even hungrier."

Looking around at everyone, Clem didn't see any hints of objection in the others' eyes. They likely were all thinking the same thing she was thinking; they didn't want to wait another day for what they had worked so hard for.

"A real meal again would amazing," professed Patty in a quiet voice.

"Fuck it, I can shoot with my left hand if it means I'm not stuck eating canned squash or whatever again," said Anthony.

"If we can drive as far as the shopping center, there's a place where we can bottleneck most of the ones inside," explained Devlin. "A couple of us could keep using melee weapons on them, others could cover the area and thin out their numbers using guns."

"Someone could take our rifle and shoot them from the roof of the RV too," suggested Sarah.

"I could do that," volunteered Jet.

"And we got the grenades if something goes wrong," reminded Patty.

"And if not, we could always just leave and come back tomorrow if there's too many," added Sin.

"Mah-bah!" Everyone turned to see a hungry Omid grasping at the cans in the cabinet, pawing at the lids in a hopeless attempt to open them. This sight saddened Clementine, then angered her as she realized she couldn't give Omid everything he deserved. But she could give him more tonight.

"Don't worry OJ," said Clem as he picked him up. "We're all gonna eat a lot better real soon."

The group returned to their respective vehicles and readied themselves, a renewed sense of determination taking hold as they finally moved towards their destination. As they headed north, Clem couldn't ignore the piles upon piles of bodies littering the road they were driving on. The sun was sinking now, painting the road itself in an orange light while the bodies appeared just as black marks against the concrete; a tally of all the people who had fallen in the time since the world changed.

As Clementine loaded an additional round to replace the one she used to rescue Jet, she realized that she still felt a shred of sadness for the walkers they killed. Even with their faces rotted and misshapen, she couldn't stop thinking about how every one was another person who hadn't survive. And with every corpse they passed, Clem continued to question her own survival. Why had she remained alive, when so many others had died?

Before long they passed another intersection and Devlin told them to slow down. Had they not been so tired, they probably would have stopped and begin the slow process of setting up another series of barbwire traps, but not this time. Instead, they kept going and Clem kept a close eye on the sides of the road. The highway itself had largely been clear of walkers, but there were still occasional ones to be found idling about in the distance.

Clem saw Anthony's truck ahead of them slowing down, prompting Patty to do the same. Until now, the section to the right of the road had been mostly empty space with a few houses sprinkled in. But as they rolled to a stop, Clem spotted a severely mangled chain fence running along the road. Beyond it was a handful of restaurants, and beyond that was a massive building with the words 'Sam's Club' written on the side. It would be right there for the taking if not for all the walkers standing in its parking lot.

"That's our food storehouse," confirmed Devlin over the radio. "Jesus, I never thought I'd see this place again."

"We could reach it easily from here if not for the walkers," said Sin.

"If we just go a little further, I know how we can force a lot of them into a bottleneck, make them easier targets."

Patty followed Anthony's truck as it moved a little further down the road. The broken fence continued past the restaurants and the storehouse, giving way to a massive row of buildings. There were worn logos on the top of the buildings, but no glass entrances or parking spaces in front of them. It dawned on Clem she was looking at the back of these department stores, and as the Brave slowed to a stop, she noticed a sign running over the road just ahead of them.

The original words had been painted over, just leaving "TULSA M.O.B." on the first sign, and a large arrow pointing at the shopping center on the other. Following the arrow with her eyes, Clem saw it was pointed to a gate in the chainlink fence that had long been knocked off its hinges. Beyond that, a gap in the buildings that led to a parking lot nestled inside, and there lay more walkers, just waiting for their prey.

"This is it," said Devlin. "Let's park our vehicles facing back the way we came, in case we need to leave in a hurry, and then meet outside." Patty swung the Brave onto the other road and the squeak of the parking brake set Clem and Sarah into motion. They loaded their guns, packed extra ammo into their bags, donned their raincoats, grabbed their melee weapons, and stepped out to meet the others waiting in the road.

"I still remember what it looked like." The first thing Clem noticed was Devlin staring at the hill across the road from the shopping center.

"Um, you're facing the wrong way," informed Anthony.

"The infected following those troops out of Oklahoma City came in on the interstate to the west of here. Maybe if they had just told us, we could have done something about it," spoke Devlin in a bitter tone through his teeth. "Instead, the fighting dragged them off the road and right to us. Once we finally killed the last motherfucker, we thought it was over, then we saw them come pouring over this hill here by the hundreds."

"That's… comforting," said Anthony.

Devlin turned around and looked at the shopping center. "Let's do this." The man gripped his rifle and took a step forward. "Bottleneck is right there," said Devlin as he gestured to the gap in the buildings. "A couple of us wire it up and get ready to bash some heads in."

"I'll do it," volunteered Sarah. "I've been with Omid most of the day, so I'm not that tired."

"And I'll go with her," added Clem. "I've taken a break every time, so I'm okay too."

"Patty, that shotgun would do a lot of damage at close range, go with the girls and cover them."

"Sounds good," said the woman as she cocked her gun.

"Here's our rifle, and all the ammo we have for it," said Sarah as she handed the weapon to Jet along with a bag. "If the scope feels off, you can adjust it with the little dials on the top and side."

"Wow, you've got a lot of bullets for this thing," noted Jet as he tested the weight of the bag.

"And you've still got the pistol we gave you." Jet nodded at Patty. "Use that in case they get in close and you can't use the rifle."

"And be aware of your surroundings, " ordered Devlin. "Using a scope, it can be real easy to forget what's just past the edge of it. The last thing I want to see happen is one of us go in to kill an infected and get shot in the back because you were aiming for so long you didn't realize where we were."

"I'll… I'll be careful," said Jet as if he was making a promise.

"I'd recommend covering the west hill. There's little chance of one of us wandering out that far in the first place and you'll have an easier time shooting them from up there than any of us."

"Got it!" Jet took off running for the back of the RV.

"You good to use that thing?" Devlin gestured to the machine gun Sin was holding.

"I haven't fired it before, but I trained with larger rifles," he said.

"You a soldier?"

"No, but military service is required in Thailand," said Sin with a hint of derision. "I guess I'll finally get some use out of it."

"All right, well you take the south road. There probably won't be too much on it seeing as we already killed a lot of stuff back that way, should give you time to get used to that gun. Also, watch the side of the buildings, in case any of them try to sneak up on the girls and Patty."

"Understood." Sin nodded at Devlin and marched down the road.

"And any of you ever use this gun before?" asked Devlin as he held up the automatic rifle.

"Yeah, it's loud, and it's impossible for me to hold when it shoots more than one bullet," answered Clem.

"Then it works," concluded Devlin as he examined the weapon. "I'll use this rifle and cover the north side."

"What about me?" asked Anthony.

"Watch the baby," ordered Devlin.

"What? You want me to babysit?"

"The gunshots will wake him up and probably scare him too," said Sarah. "Somebody needs to be there for him."

"But anyone can do that," argued Anthony. "Why me?"

"Because, you fucked up your shoulder from working all day without a break," reminded Devlin. "No good messing yourself up even worse. You get some rest while keeping an eye on the kid. If once of us needs to tap out and you're feeling better, you can switch then."

Anthony stared defiantly at Devlin in response.

"Please Anthony?" begged Sarah. "We can't leave Omid alone."

"You know what, I'll do it since you asked Sarah." Anthony smiled at her, then headed for the Brave.

"All right people, move with a purpose."

Sarah and Clem grabbed a spool of barbwire from the Sunseeker and hurried down the hill and towards the shopping center. There were bodies all over the grass leading up to the building, too rotted to be walkers anymore. Briefly glancing at them, she could see some of them had uniforms on, most of them didn't. There were also stray shell casings scattered across the dirt that Clem preferred not to think about.

Moving in close to the buildings revealed more signs of the battle Devlin mentioned. The concrete exteriors of the stores were riddled with bullet holes and an entire section of the structure on the left had collapsed into a pile of broken concrete from some unseen attack. Nearing the gap, Clem could see a damaged humvee smashed up against the building on the right.

Entering the gap, the scars of battle grew more numerous. There were several wrecked vehicles jammed up against the sides of the building at odd angles, small craters in the dirt path they were walking on, and at the end of the gap a bizarre arch that appeared to be made out of twisted metal. Getting closer, Clem realized the arch was the remains of a semi-trailer, like the ones that made the wall around the citadel, but this one had been torn apart in the middle, leaving an opening large enough to drive through.

Reaching the wrecked trailer, Clem was baffled by the black scorch marks surrounding the punctured metal. The razor wire running on top made it clear this was used as a wall, but Clem could think of only one thing that could have carved an entrance through it. And taking a few steps forward, she saw that one thing sitting in the middle of the parking lot; the remains of a large tank.

"Jesus…" whispered Patty. "It's just like Mobile."

"Except there are walkers everywhere this time," corrected Clem.

"Let's just put up the barbwire before they hear us," insisted Sarah.

The pair worked quickly while Patty kept a lookout. The debris and abandoned vehicles gave them some natural places to anchor the wire. They could hear Jet over the radio reporting about walkers in the distance, but Devlin told him not to shoot until Clem and Sarah finished. After securing their third strand of wire, Clem decided that was enough. They backed away from the gap, then radioed the others to let them know it was time.

A couple of rifle shots sounded, which was followed by more shots from the others, and soon there were walkers moving towards the gap. Clem's tomahawk moved without thinking, by now it was practically a reflex. As the walkers began to swarm, the girls stepped back and let Patty's shotgun deal with them. The deafening bangs drew more, which the girls would cut down with their pistols while Patty reloaded. After their numbers began to thin the girls would reload themselves, then go back to using their melee weapons, repeating the cycle.

The moans and groans of the dead became like white noise before long, and the constant sunken faces of the dead looking in Clem's direction before jamming her blade through their eyes all blended together into a depressing blur of rotted faces who features dimmed with the setting sun. It felt less like battling monsters and more like fighting a force of nature now, like throwing sandbags in the path of a flooding river, hoping you have enough to keep the water out.

The sun had nearly set as the distant sounds of gunshots began to wane. There were still more walkers piling in from the gap, and by now the bodies of the dead had once again formed a pile of corpses, burying the original wire, which just created a marginally more effective barrier. By now, Clem could barely breathe because her lungs ached so badly, yet she persisted.

Watching as another pair of walkers clambered over their makeshift wall of bodies, Clem tried to move forward to kill one, only to suddenly find herself too dizzy to stand. The girl fell backwards onto the dirt, dropping her tomahawk. Watching Sarah, her machete became jammed in the head of the walker on the left, and while she tried to free it the walker on the right was pulling itself over the wall.

Clem drew her pistol and took aim the best she could, but pulling the trigger just produced a click; she had forgotten to reload. Her eyes wandering around for help, Clem saw Patty was still loading her shotgun while the walker's arms started thrashing out towards an unexacting Sarah, whose was still struggling to free her machete. With a sudden wave of terror washing over her, Clem reached for the grenade on her belt. But before she could grab it, a cold but strong hand grabbed her from behind.

"Easy there," said Devlin. "I got you." The man's thick gloves felt coarse against her skin, but there was something gentle in the way he helped her off the ground, as if he was taking great care not to exert too much strength.

Suddenly there was a gunshot and Clem turned her head to discover Sarah casually shooting the walker with her pistol. Feeling a little less dizzy now, she noticed it wasn't quite as close to her friend as she initially thought.

"Looks like you three could use a break." Clem watched as Jet picked up the tomahawk and approached the wall, Sin following right behind with his machete. "The roads are pretty clear now, so we can take take it from here."

"Thuh… thanks," Clem found herself barely able to speak because her throat was so parched. She slowly trudged back to the Brave with Sarah and Patty, both looking only marginally less haggard than herself. Her feet hurt from standing all day, both her arms were throbbing in pain, her hands were incredibly sore, and even with the respirator covering her mouth she knew she must smell terrible.

Returning to the Brave to toss off their stuffy respirators and raincoats felt like escaping an iron maiden for the trio. Carefully removing the grenade from her belt, Clem took one last look at it before placing it on the table, grateful that she didn't need it today. She was about to remove the rest of her equipment when there came a noise from the closet. Without a word, Sarah jumped ahead of the group and threw the door open.

"Ah-bree-mah-bah" mumbled Omid as he chewed his ice cream.

"Omid, no!" scolded Sarah as she pried the boy away from his treat. "He ate almost a whole bag. You're gonna make yourself sick."

"What are y'all yelling about?" asked a woozy Anthony as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Dammit, you were supposed to be watching him," said Patty.

"I was, I just lied down for a minute. What's the big…" Anthony looked down at the mostly devoured plastic bag sitting amongst the remaining unopened freeze-dried ice cream. "Are you kidding me, you people lied to me." Anthony turned to Clem. "You said that bag you gave me to go New Orleans was your last one."

Everyone stared hard at Anthony in response to what he said, except for Omid, who just kept chewing. "Why don't you go help the others clear our what's left in the parking lot?" suggested a worn out Patty.

"All I've got is the one pistol."

"Just take my backpack, its got extra bullets," said Clem as she handed him her bag. "If you hurry, you might still reach three-hundred."

That was enough to get Anthony moving, leaving the Brave to its owners.

"Finally," spoke an exhausted Clem. "I really need a—" Omid spit-up a brown substance onto Clem's shirt. "Shower."

After confirming Omid was unarmed beside stuffing himself with too much ice cream, Clem's concerns were replaced with annoyance in needing to clean up the floor while Sarah had to wash and change Omid; Patty was left to sort out their guns and other equipment in case they needed to go back out. At one point, Devlin requested as many flashlights as they could spare over the radio, and Clem volunteered to take some out, reasoning she was still on her feet anyway. Only after that was she finally able to catch her breath in the bathroom.

Peeling off her gloves, Clem was disturbed to see her hands were bright red and covered in popped blisters. And as she undressed, Clem discovered more bruises and marks all across her body, many of which weren't there this morning. Tossing her filthy clothes in the laundry basket, Clem suspected she could have not used her raincoat at this point and still remained undetected due to all the blood that had splashed onto them, and Omid's puke probably just helped to make them smell even worse.

Stepping into the shower, Clementine felt the hot water almost instantly washing away her fears and concerns of the day along with the dirt and filth, only for the water to stop. It started again after a few seconds, then stopped again. Clem tried fiddling with the knobs and even knocking the shower head, but it didn't fix the problem. It was still a huge relief to wash herself off, but without a steady stream of water it was more like she was getting a quick rinse than a hot shower.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, Clem heard another call from Devlin, this time telling them to try and move the Brave into the parking lot. They had apparently cleared out most of the remaining walkers as well as clearing out some space in the gap, and Devlin wanted to make sure they could drive onto the lot now, saying they could spend the night here. Patty dutifully put up with the Brave's stubbornness until it started and headed for the gap.

The barricade of bodies had been parted down the middle and the wire removed. It was a tight fit, and Patty went slowly, but they managed to squeeze the Brave through without issue. Heading south across the lot, Clem found herself staring at the countless bodies littering the area. The asphalt looked almost like a wide open sea in the dark, and the Brave their ship sailing through these uncharted waters riddled with bodies. Despite what Devlin had said about staying the night, it still didn't feel like they were finished, and that there was some other challenge waiting for them.

Eventually, the Brave's headlights fell on the storehouse's front entrance. It was chained shut, and in the surrounding area, Clem could see Anthony, Sin and Jet eliminating a few lingering walkers in the distance, while Devlin was moving towards the storehouse's front doors. Patty and Clem rearmed themselves and grabbed their raincoats while Sarah tried to get Omid to settle in for the night.

Stepping outside, once again Clem found herself staring at the bodies lying around her. Seeing one walker on the pavement not far from where they parked, Clem grabbed her tomahawk. Her hands and arms ached as she lifted it into the air, but she endured the pain long enough to bring the blade down on the walker's skull.

"I think that one was already dead," informed Patty as she gravitated towards one the Brave's exterior storage bins.

"Yeah, but I wanted to be sure." There was a gunshot and Clem turned around in time to see a walker falling before Anthony, who was wielding a pistol in his left hand. Scanning for further threats, Clem found nothing but Sin and Jet as they moved towards where they were standing. Suddenly, the night seemed silent, free of moans and growls and shambling footsteps that had so followed them everywhere they went, and for the first time today, Clem didn't feel the walkers presence lurking just out of sight.

"Someone I knew once said that in the end, the dead always win." Clementine looked down at the rotten and mangy corpse sprawled out before her. "I think she was wrong."

"Devlin!"

Clem spun around to see Patty rushing towards Devlin, who collapsed to knees suddenly. Looking at the man, he had an almost vacant look in his eyes now, as if his soul had left his body.

"Are you okay?" asked Patty.

"You're not bitten are—"

"I just can't believe it," he mumbled in a barely audible whisper. "With just six of you…" Devlin raised his arm and stared at the dried blood smeared across the sleeve of his raincoat. "We could have taken it back. If only we had known, it could have worked… it all could have worked."

Clementine stepped forward and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, which seemed to bring him back to his senses. "I'm sorry," she said as the man looked into her eyes.

"They didn't even notice us," said Devlin. "How did you figure it out?"

"I was lucky," admitted Clem. "Someone had to kill a bunch of walkers to rescue me, and he got covered in their stuff. When a walker didn't bite him, we figured it out; I'm only alive because of him."

"I guess that means I am too now," realized Devlin as he stood up.

"We all are," said Patty as she approached the man. "None of us would have made it here without you Clem."

"Not me, Lee was the one—"

"You're the one who saved me back in Titusville," reminded Patty. "You wanted to take a chance to help Anthony, came to Sin and Jet's rescue outside Port Arthur, and I think I remember Sarah saying something about you saving her life."

"Well… yeah, I did do all that stuff, didn't I," spoke a surprised Clem, as if this was the first time she had realized this.

"And you're taking care of that baby," added Devlin. "Sounds like you're a real hero."

Clem turned away upon hearing that. "No," she said as she remembered something else she did. "I'm not a hero."

"Well, you're a hero to me," said Devlin with a smile.

"Really, even though I'm a kid?" asked Clem.

"That just makes you more heroic," reasoned Devlin with a smile. "I've known grown men twice your size who weren't half as heroic as I saw you act today."

"Three-hundred and eleven!" announced Anthony loudly as he joined the group. "What's my prize?"

"You get to kill the next three-hundred," suggested Patty.

"Ahh, you know what, I think I'll take the door prize instead." Anthony gestured to the front of the storehouse.

"Is it possible walkers are inside there?" Sin asked Devlin as he and Jet joined the group.

"I severely doubt it. We had the storehouse locked down tight to keep out thieves, and since we were attacked at night, none of us got a chance to open it before we had to retreat."

"How do we get in then?" asked Jet as he looked at the padlocks and chains welded to the door.

"I got it covered." Patty brandished the electric bolt cutter. She went right to the closest chain and pulled the trigger. The blades very slowly closed in on the metal link, but they didn't cut it. The tool just whirred very weakly as it failed to make a dent in the metal.

"Dammit…" Patty pulled back the tool. "What's wrong this thing?"

"We charged it the last time we stopped to get diesel, and we haven't used it since," said Clem. "Maybe the flood wrecked it. It was stored outside."

"How long have you had that?" asked Sin.

"We've had it for months now," said Clem. "Why?"

"It's possible the battery has lost its ability to hold a charge," said Sin.

"It's rechargeable," said Clem.

"Rechargeable batteries eventually lose their ability to hold a charge," informed Jet. "My laptop barely lasts thirty minutes when fully charged at this point."

"What kind of battery is it?" asked Sin. "Maybe we could replace it."

"I don't know, it's some boxy thing attached to the bottom," said Patty.

"Oh God damn it, we cut down an army of the dead only to get stopped by some fucking chains?" asked an indignant Anthony. "Why the hell can't we catch a break already?" A loud rattling caused everyone to spin around to find Devlin pulling the chains away while the padlocks lay by his feet.

"The Chief left the keys with us," said Devlin as he tossed the last chain aside. "In case we ever got back here… never thought I'd actually use them though."

"Just be good, please?" Clem watched as Sarah stepped out of the Brave, Omid cradled in her arms.

"Sarah, why are you bringing him out here?" asked Clem.

"He won't sleep, I think all the sugar from the ice-cream is keeping him up," said Sarah.

"Mah-bah," said Omid.

"And I think he's still hungry too," sighed Sarah. "Except for a bunch of ice cream, which he threw up, he hasn't eaten much all day."

"Well, let's get him something to eat then." Devlin pulled open the doors and grabbed his flashlight. He banged his nightstick against the door frame a couple of times, which produced no response, then he stepped in. Clem looked around at the others, all of whom seemed to be waiting for someone else to make the first move, eventually prompting Clem to do it herself.

She darted inside, past an area full of shopping carts, and into the store itself. Devlin was already far ahead, prompting Clem to remove her own flashlight. Flipping it on, she found she couldn't believe what she was looking at. Stacks, upon stacks, upon stacks, upon stacks of food, as far as she could see. Whole pallets of dried goods, entire shelves filled with cans, jars piled into boxes stacked upon boxes, packets of instant mix goodies laid out like piles of bricks on counters, bottles of sports drinks arranged into displays taller than her, and more food than she ever imagined seeing in every direction she looked.

"Holy shit," said Patty.

"I can only imagine how much more the troops in Houston had hoarded," spoke an astonished Sin as he studied his surroundings.

"Or how much they shipped away," added Jet.

Clem moved to one of the shelves. Reading the labels on the cans, she found fruits, stews, soups, and vegetables of all types neatly lined up for the taking. Removing a can of beef stew from the shelf, Clem discovered there were several more behind it. Moving a little further, she did see gaps and empty spots amongst the aisles, but there were so many aisles with so much food on it that it boggled the mind.

"Mah-bah!" Clem turned around to see Omid trying to grasp one of many plastic containers full of gum balls sitting on a shelf Sarah was walking by.

"No Omid, you've had enough sugar for today."

A loud bang came from behind and Clem discovered Anthony smacking the top of a can into one of the shelves.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Patty.

"Trying to open this, I'm starving," grumbled a desperate Anthony. "Here, you try, both your arms work."

"Put that back, we—"

"Just let him have it," said Devlin as walked back towards where the group was standing. "We were trying to save up enough provisions to last one more winter. What you're looking at, we were hoping to use to build a future for this city, but that's over now. Now, for a small group of people, all this food is just—"

"A jackpot," awed Clementine.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - First Chapter