Clementine kept moving forward, carefully observing her surroundings as she did so. The woods here weren't any different from the ones she walked through earlier, yet Clem couldn't help but feel a little excited. This was the furthest she had been away from her new home since settling here months ago. She had spent so much of the winter cooped up in the cabin she had almost forgotten the rest of the world was still out there.
Clementine continued further into the forest, stopping to check the various flora. She was really hoping to find something other than mushrooms to eat. She had never liked them, and eating them almost every day for the last month had just made her further hate them. Clem checked the sky again to make sure she was still moving north. It was getting cloudier, but she could still see the sun.
Continuing deeper into the woods, Clem heard a distinct chirping sound off in the distance. It was a cricket, and possibly future bait as well. She started moving towards the source of the chirping as quickly as she could. As she neared the source, the chirping suddenly stopped, as if her prey had detected her presence. Clem held perfectly still for a moment, and another chirp sounded. Clem very carefully tiptoed towards a fallen log. The chirping stopped again, but Clem continued her approach.
Sitting on the log was a particularly fat insect. Clem slowly reached out her hand, ready to catch it. Just as she grabbed for the bug, it hopped away. Clem scrambled over the log and tried again to snatch the cricket, but no luck. It kept hopping for dear life as Clem tried to chase after it. She lunged at it again and managed to grasp the fat cricket before it could hop away once more. Clem carefully opened her hand to confirm her catch, and found a somewhat smooshed bug resting in her palm.
"Eww." Clementine peeled what she could off her hand and put it in her backpack. Then she wiped her hand on the grass, trying to get off some of the sticky bug blood. Normally she didn't really think much about bugs, but something about the way it was hopping away from her made Clem feel a tiny bit guilty about killing it. It really didn't want to be caught. But mostly she felt proud of having something to bring back, even if it was just a bug.
Clementine started to zip up her backpack when she heard a nearby rustling sound. She quickly darted back to the fallen tree for cover and watched closely as the rustling grew louder. Clementine pulled her gun out of her backpack, her heart racing as whatever was coming grew louder. She watched in terror as something stumbled out from the brush.
It was a big, old, red, dog. Clem's fear quickly turned to wonderment. She hadn't seen a dog since before everything changed. People didn't really keep pets anymore, or if they did, she never got to meet any of them. It made Clem stop and wonder about what else was still out there, until she noticed the dog was moving straight towards her. Clem tried to hide but the dog had already picked up her scent. It came over the downed tree with some difficulty and looked right at Clementine.
"Umm, good boy." The dog seemed a lot older close-up, and a lot bigger too. Clem noticed it was missing one of its eyes and half of its tail had been cut off. Both looked to be old injuries. The dog also looked very hungry. "I'm sorry. I don't have anything to eat." Clementine couldn't help but feel sorry for the dog as it kept staring at her with its one remaining eye. "You poor thing." She slowly offered her free hand to the dog, allowing him to sniff it. "I wish there was something I could do for—"
The dog snapped at Clementine, biting her arm. Clem pulled her arm free of the dog's jaws, badly cutting herself as she did so. She recoiled in horror at the sight of the bloody gash running across half the length of her arm. She tried to cradle the painful injury with her other hand, but the gun she was holding made that impossible.
The dog however just continued to stare at Clem, as if nothing had happened. Clementine started backing away from the animal, which kept moving towards her.
"Go away." The dog paid no attention to Clem's command. "Shoo! Leave me alone!" The dog started growling in response to the girl raising her voice. "Stop!" The dog didn't stop. It kept inching closer to Clementine with every step she took backwards, growling louder and louder. "Go away! Just…" The dog let out a savage bark and Clem pulled the trigger.
It took Clementine a moment to piece together what just transpired. She didn't even remember aiming her gun at the dog. It just seemed to happen when she heard it bark at her. She looked down at the now motionless corpse of the canine. The shot was clean in its head, and its blood was slowly spilling onto the grass. Despite what it just did, Clem found it hard to look at the dead animal.
As the shock of the attack started to fade, Clementine suddenly felt the searing pain in her arm. Looking at it again, she saw blood was seeping into her whole sleeve now. Clem tossed her gun into her backpack and picked it up with her one good arm. She gazed up at the sky to find her way back, but it was so overcast now she couldn't see the sun clearly.
A sense of panic started to sweep over Clementine. She looked back at the fallen tree and figured since she had to jump over it earlier to catch the cricket, that was probably north. Clem turned and started running in the direction she hoped would lead her back to the stream. She found it hard to keep up a good pace as every step seemed to further irritate her injury. Clem looked around for any sign she was heading the right way, but all she saw were trees in every direction. She tried to keep running, but the pain in her arm became unbearable.
Finally she couldn't run any further, slowing to a stop near a tree she could lean on while gasping for air. Clem's gaze briefly drifted back to her arm, but the sight of blood dripping down her hand was enough to make her look away. Clem tried to think of what she should do next, but nothing came to mind. It dawned on Clem she might die here, lost in this forest. The thought of this terrified Clementine, and yet she couldn't even muster the strength to remain standing.
She slid down the trunk of the tree and plopped onto the ground, unsure if she even wanted to stand up again. Her gaze drifted skyward, just to see it was even cloudier than it was a few minutes ago. Clementine sighed and leaned her head against the tree. As she turned her head, trying to get slightly more comfortable, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She saw the silhouette of someone standing far off in the distance. It could be Omid, but she couldn't tell from this far away. She hesitated to call to this person, but another glimpse at her arm made her realize how dire her situation was.
"Omid!" The person spun around to face Clementine, aiming a rifle in her direction. Clem froze in place, petrified at this sight. Again, she reached for her gun, but the call of a familiar voice stopped her.
"Clementine!" Clem watched as the figure lowered the rifle. It had to be Omid. She started racing towards him as fast as her legs would carry her, trying to ignore the horrid pain in her arm. She could see Omid's face now, his normally friendly smile replaced with a look of overwhelming concern.
"I heard a shot. What happened?" Omid noticed Clementine's arm as he closed the distance between them. "Oh shit."
"A dog bit me."
"A dog?"
"Yeah, it was in the woods, and—"
"Better it than a walker, but…" Omid carefully examined Clem's arm. "Oh shit, he got you good. Hang on." Omid tore off the bloody sleeve on Clem's undershirt. He then reached for the other sleeve and started tearing it just below Clem's shoulder. "Sorry to wreck your trademark outfit."
"It's already wrecked." Clementine watched as Omid used the other sleeve to fashion a crude bandage. He tied it tightly around the open wound, causing Clem to wince as he did so.
"Okay. That'll have to do for the trip back. But you're gonna need stitches." Omid led Clementine back to the stream, which wasn't far. He quickly removed the water jugs from his backpack and replaced them with the cooler with the fish in it.
"You're not bringing the water?
"Too heavy, and it's not bleeding." Omid put his backpack on. "I'll come back for it and the rod later. After I get you home."
"Then why are you bringing the cooler?" asked Clementine.
"Because I want you to have something good to eat when we get back," explained Omid as he approached Clem. "You'll heal better on a full stomach." Omid carefully scooped Clementine off the ground and into his arms.
"I can still walk," insisted a shaken Clementine.
"I don't want you to make your arm any worse by running through the forest," insisted Omid. "Hold onto me with your good arm. And if you need to stop for anything, you just say so."
"Okay." Clem grasped Omid as tightly as she could.
"Christa's gonna give me hell for this."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'm gonna let her." Omid carried Clementine back towards the cabin, carefully keeping her close to him while trying to keep up a hurried pace. Clem did her best to stay quiet despite the pain. With the bandage, her arm felt like it was throbbing now, as if the blood was trying to force itself out. She felt like crying out but she didn't. She knew there was nothing Omid could do until they were back at the cabin, so she just closed her eyes and tried to think of anything to distract herself from the excruciating pain, but nothing came to mind.
The trip back probably took about half an hour but for Clem it felt like an eternity. She was so relieved when an out of breath Omid told her that they were almost there. Clem opened her eyes and through all the trees she could just barely see the cabin. She never thought she be so happy to be back in that dull old cabin. Even just seeing it seemed to ease the pain in her arm a little. Right as they reached the edge of the clearing, Omid came to a sudden stop.
"Omid?" said Clem. "Why'd you—" Omid made a shushing noise in response. Very carefully he set Clem down, then knelt down himself.
"What's going on?" whispered Clem.
"I think I see a couple of people," whispered Omid as he took his rifle in hand. "By the front door." Clem looked closely. It was hard to tell, but there did seem to be two figures standing in front of the cabin.
"Who are they?"
"Let's find out." Omid braced the rifle against his shoulder and looked through the scope. "Well the one on the right is Christa. She's talking to someone, and she doesn't look too happy about it, although, that's fairly normal for her."
"Who's the other person?" asked Clementine.
"A man in a flannel shirt with dark hair. I'd tell you more, but he's got his back turned, so that's all I got." Clem edged closer to get a better view, but she still couldn't see much other than what was apparently two people way off in the distance. "This guy's got a gun tucked in his waistband," reported Omid. "Although, that's fairly normal these days."
"What's someone doing out here?" asked Clem. "How would they even find this place?"
"Maybe it's the cabin's original owner?" suggested Omid. "Or maybe he just stumbled upon it. I mean, that's basically what we did. We just happened to spot it way off in the distance from the freeway. Who's to say he didn't—" Omid suddenly tensed up. He tightened his grip on the rifle, as if he was aiming at something now.
"What's going on?" whispered Clem.
"I recognize that look. She's given it to me more times than I care to remember," informed a concerned Omid. "Whoever this is, Christa's losing her patience for him. It looks like she's telling him to leave, but he's not showing any signs of leaving." Clem watched as Omid steadied the rifle.
"All right Clem, listen carefully. Here's what we're going to do," instructed Omid in a calm voice. "First—" The back of Omid's head erupted, spewing blood and gore onto everything behind him. Clementine watched in utter shock as he collapsed backwards onto the dirt, a confused expression frozen on his now lifeless face and a neatly made bullet hole on his forehead.
