Two years later…

"Oh thank god," I whisper as I rush over to the stream and cup my hands together. The water feels so refreshing as I splash my face with it; as if a lifetime's worth of dust and grime is suddenly just washing away. It's barely visible, due to the constant flow of water rippling as it goes over rocks and such, but I can see my reflection for the first time in weeks.

My hair's shorter now, a lot shorter due to Lilly's concern that it might get grabbed if I didn't trim it a little bit. At first it felt wrong – as if I was abandoning everything about me from before, now including my hair. But over time, I came to realize that she had been right. Lilly was right about a lot of things these days. And, now that I think about it, I actually like my hair shorter. It suits me I think.

"Clem?" I turn around to see Duck walking up towards me, a small smirk on his goofy-looking face. At least his charm didn't wear off completely after… all that.

"Lilly's been looking for you."

"Why?" I ask, wiping my hands on my jeans.

"I dunno, something about dinner I think."

"I thought it was your turn tonight?" I remark as we head back into the forest. Lilly taught us both how to cook any animals that we could find out here in the wilderness, but I just did that last night!

Duck got a bit taller over the past couple of years, and he wasn't quite as scrawny as when I had first met him. He had his mom's face for sure, and I could tell that he was going to develop some of his dad's behaviours. He already was starting to swear like a trucker when things went wrong. When he first started doing it, my old habits kicked in and I would immediately reprimand him for it. But after a while, I just stopped caring.

"I, uh, found some of your comics out near one of the trash bins," I mention, putting my hands inside of my pockets, "Did you want them back?"

"I'm not a little kid, Clementine."

This saddens me a little bit. Back at the motor-inn, Duck would talk my ear off about all of his favourite superheroes and what happened in some comic issue. Normally, I would just tune him out and pretend that I was really interested, while in reality I'd simply be drawing something. I even drew him a picture of Batman once, and I remember how he got so excited that he went around the camp and showed everyone what I made.

Now that he doesn't even care anymore, it kind of makes me wish for the old Duck back.

We arrive back at our little campsite to find Lilly putting in some rounds for the hunting rifle she always carried. She was very particular about how to do it, and she'd never let Duck or I go near it without her supervision.

"Brought her just like you said, boss," Duck joked, getting an eye roll from Lilly. Well, at least his sense of humor hasn't run completely dry.

"What did you want me to do?" I ask, noticing that Lilly already started the fire.

"Come see," she simply replies, "Duck, just keep that going alright? We'll be back in a bit."

"Aye aye, captain."

I giggle slightly as I hear Lilly give a big sigh before we head out.

All is quiet for a little while, but it's a nice silence. We're covered from the sun's rays by all of the pine trees out here, and there's a cool breeze that just sweeps through me. I close my eyes for a moment just to bask in the weather.

"Yoo-hoo? Earth to Clementine?"

Startled to see that she stopped a little ways before I did, I jog back over and hide in the bushes with Lilly. She's got the rifle out in front of her, and out of the corner of my eye I can see a pretty decently-sized deer, but she's not aiming at it. Confused, I turn towards Lilly, but she's already handing the gun to me.

"Really?" I ask, surprised that she'd let anyone let alone an eleven year old girl touch her gun.

"Gotta learn sometime," she responds, directing me on what to do. "Now look, it's basically the same idea as your pistol, but this thing's gonna have way more kick to it. Just line up the shot, hold your breath and try to keep it steady."

Doing as instructed, I close one eye and aim for the target. My confidence must've been building, because suddenly I feel as though I can do anything.

Don't kill my moment, please?

I pull the trigger, and the gun sends me backwards onto the ground. At this point I'm preparing to hear Lilly yell something about not treating her equipment like a toy, or something about wasting a bullet, but it never comes. Looking up, I see Lilly actually surprised, though she's not actually looking at me.

"Did I get it?"

"Yeah, Clem. I'm impressed – you just bagged us a dinner for tonight."

We drag the thing back to camp, where Duck is eyeing it hungrily, and Lilly takes it behind some trees to skin it and dress it so that we can eat. Nothing can burst my bubble now; I feel like I'm the queen of the hunt or something silly like that.

But I don't show it on my face, as usual. That's how it's usually gone – I'd bottle up my feelings and then maybe let some of it leak out when nobody's around. It's what I've been doing for about two years now.

It's what I did after Lee got bit and I saw my parents.

You don't know how many nights I'd stay up and think about that horrible day. I'd never experienced anything like it before, and I doubted that I ever would again (or at least not nearly as traumatic as it was).

But not once did I ever say anything to my two companions. After all, they've got enough problems without having to hear mine, right?

"It's getting pretty late," Duck mentions, looking up at the sky which was quickly turning to a dark orange. "The fire's gonna die if we don't do something."

Nodding my head, I absentmindedly stir up the embers with a stick as I think of our options. It had rained earlier this afternoon, so most of the wood was too damp for us to burn. And it's not as though we can use a license plate that I saw earlier.

Honestly, I don't remember when exactly we made it up to North Carolina. I didn't really pay attention where we were going, and I doubt that Duck did either. We just followed Lilly. If she made a wrong turn (which she'd never admit to), then we wouldn't even know. The only thing I knew was that we were trying to get up to some camp called Wellington, wherever that was. Supposedly it's a safe enough place to be, and that sounded better than scrounging around in the woods. Just as long as we stayed out of Georgia, I didn't mind very much. Too many bad memories there.

"Alright, I think it's only fair that Clem gets first dibs on the meat. Which piece do you want, Big Game Hunter?"

I could get used to that.

We eat our victory meal in silence, with the occasional banter between Duck and I. But Lilly doesn't say a word. By the time we finish up dinner, Lilly has already stood up and said that she'd take watch. Duck's fallen asleep near the fire pit, which thankfully he'd had the common sense to put out before he fell asleep.

Once again, he's forgotten his blanket over by the tent. Not wanting the guy to freeze to death, I bring it over and place it over his sleeping form, smiling as he shifts a little bit. He seems really peaceful now, as if the horrors of the world we live in don't even apply anymore. If only that were true.

A part of me thinks that I should just leave Lilly alone, but the rest argues otherwise. She's had plenty of moments to herself, and I want to see if something's bugging her.

It's weird, believe me, I know. Before this, when Lee was still around, I barely remember uttering a single word to her. She always treated me fairly, and we weren't on any bad terms at all. But she would often erupt into a fit of shouting matches, mostly with Kenny. As a result, I tended to stick near Lee and Carley, and try my best not to get involved.

How things have changed since then.

"Are you okay?" I ask, taking a seat beside her on a log that's not too far from our camp. She's got huge bags under her eyes, and I can't really blame her. Lilly's done the lookout duty for three nights straight.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" There it is, avoiding the question again. This is how it usually went down.

"What bed?" I joke, but not really at the same time. My "bed" consists of a leaf pile that I had put together. "Seriously, what's up?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Fine," I sigh, standing up to leave. That usually does the trick.

"Clem, wait," There it is! "I'm sorry. Just a little on edge lately."

"What about?"

"Just… my dad, mostly."

Huh. That's new. She never opened up about her family to me, ever. Occasionally I'd catch her muttering something about what her dad would do in this situation, but that's about it.

"Funny that I'm still thinking about it, huh?" she remarks, as if reading my mind. I catch the faint glimpse of a smile on her features, but it's a sad smile. Clearly she too has spent many nights thinking about the meat locker.

Instead of saying anything, I just let her continue. What words would I have to offer anyway? My parents didn't get a salt lick dropped on their head….

Sigh.

Thinking about them still tears at my insides from time to time. It's hard to remember that they were people once too, just like me. There have been plenty of times where I wish that I could talk to them again – to have my dad hold me in his big, strong arms, and have my mom read me a bedtime story like she used to back home.

But then, the nightmares come. Those are terrible. The horrifying thing about them is that they're all real, too. I'm standing outside that stupid gate, and I can't say a word as my mom takes a bite out of Lee's arm…

Feeling Lilly wrap an arm around my shoulder, I tense up at first. This was really unfamiliar territory for me. Lilly never showed any signs of affection towards anyone – not even her own father from what I could see. But she must've noticed how down I looked. Remember that part about emotions sometimes leaking out? Yeah.

Instead of questioning it further, I lean my head against her and shake a little as a couple of stray tears threaten to fall. As usual though, I force myself not to cry. I've put on this charade of the tough, little survivor girl for two years now, and I'm not going to lose that now. Especially not in front of the other toughest girl I know.

"Do you think he made it out?"

I can feel her tense up slightly as I ask it, as if that question is the thing we've been avoiding for so long and just all of a sudden has stepped out into the sunlight. Lilly knew exactly who I was talking about.

"I don't know Clem," she answers honestly, and the few tears left in me trickle down my cheek. I let him down that day. It's all my fault.

Suddenly, a couple of rounds are fired off nearby, and both of us immediately stand up. Grabbing my pistol, I follow Lilly back towards our camp, praying to whoever was listening that Duck would still be there.