Out on a Limb
Summary: If Clementine had to make a more difficult choice with her cleaver and a bite victim.
Rating: T
Notes: This one is a gateway into episode 5. Meaning, starting next chapter, it'll be "episode 5". This is the end of where "episode 4" would be. Sorry for the wait! Please leave a review!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead Game.
"Ow!" The man hissed, flinching his body away from the girl as best he could, teeth snapping like an animal. His avoidance only made her hold on tighter to the stump that was once his arm, her eyes narrowed to try to get him to stop wriggling. "That hurts, y'know!"
"Quit moving! Or it's only going to hurt worse," she chided, spraying the open wound again with what was left of the antiseptic. Troy howled in pain, eyes screwing shut.
The brown-haired man scowled, almost pouting like a child would, before he finally settled himself long enough for her to wrap up the scabbing injury. Clementine rolled her eyes and finished adjusting the gauze to the wound, sealing it with a few tight knots. She could feel the man relax underneath her, his muscles deflating as the adrenaline to get away seemed to fade away once the constant pain had died down.
It had been two and a half days since they'd decided to rest at the gift shop, and for the most part, things had been alright. They'd lived sparingly off the small amount of food they'd found at the pharmacy, and all of them had made it through the cold nights – even Troy, Rebecca, and AJ. The three weakest members of their party were recovering slowly; at the very least, AJ was still cared for and Troy seemed to be back to his unpleasant self.
Without hesitation, Clementine placed a hand on the man's forehead, gauging the lack of intense heat as a good sign. "Your fever's gone," she commented with a small smile, "or at the very least, it's not dangerous anymore."
"Good. About fuckin' time," he sighed, swatting at her hand to get her away. Once she was finished changing his bandages, she sat back on her knees and gave him a quick glance-over.
Really, she knew exactly why she was the one taking care of the amputee, but it didn't make it suck any less. Troy complained and whined a lot, but at least he wasn't half-dead anymore. It was bittersweet, she supposed; he was feeling better, but once more was opening up his mouth.
"Do you think you'll be alright to travel?" she asked. If he said no, she wasn't exactly sure what he'd do; he'd have to move. Thankfully, though, he merely nodded, leaning back against the wall.
Looking around, Clementine checked to see if the rest of the group looked like they were fit to leave. Nick and Luke were preparing whatever items they could find in the backpacks left over from the drug store, arguing about who should carry what. Kenny and Sarita were making sure Rebecca could stand and hold onto her baby safely, while Sarah hovered nearby for support. Bonnie and Mike were both stretching, as though they'd just awoken, and Jane was off to the side (brooding, as usual).
After Rebecca was standing and steady, Sarah hurried over to Clementine and Troy. "Um, how are you feeling?" she asked the one-armed man, who simply gave her a nonchalant shrug in response.
Since the little chat between Sarah and Troy that Clementine had overheard, the two had gotten along a little better; he wasn't as hostile towards the girl, and didn't seem more than ready to hit her every time he looked at her, either. It was almost like Troy was a dog, a wounded animal being taken care of by a kind soul, and feeling loyalty to that person as a result.
He was growing used to Sarah being around him, at the very least. In return, Sarah didn't seem as frightened of him, and almost didn't hesitate before asking, "Can I... check your pulse?"
Quirking a brow, Troy opened his mouth to argue, but (presumably) thought better of it and just shrugged again. "I don't care. You're gonna do what y' like anyway, ain't you?"
The girl smiled, placing her fingers onto his wrist and paused to feel and gauge the rate of Troy's heart. The silence that befell the three of them was awkward, Sarah not meeting the man's eyes and choosing to focus on her friend instead. Clementine gave her an amused look, mouthing two words that would clue Sarah in on what to think about: 'ice cream'.
Sarah giggled, turning to her patient. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor?" she asked, her grin stretching wider.
Troy blinked, almost as though he was unsure he'd heard her properly. "Does it fuckin' matter?" he finally growled. "World's turned to shit, anyway. Ain't gonna find any ice cream around."
Frowning, the girl replied, "Well, I – I guess you're right, but... if the world wasn't all... bad? Or, um, think before – what was your favorite?"
"Why do you wanna know?" Troy snapped, eyes narrowing into a glare. "Seriously, this shit has nothing to do with anythin', so just keep your trap shut!"
Sarah flinched, gazing down at his wrist. Her fingers tightened around it, her eyes closing. "...I think it's good to remember things from before. Just... in case you're ever sad, you can think about your favorite ice cream flavor, or maybe what you liked to do on the weekends–"
"It don't matter," the man repeated, a bit quieter. "Look, I don't like t' think about that kinda shit. Y' gotta forget about bein' 'sad' completely. S'the only way t' survive in this shit world."
Clementine narrowed her own gaze. "Maybe people don't want to move on. Maybe we lost people we care about and don't want to forget about how much we miss them."
"Sometimes y' gotta," Troy snarled. "You brats ain't the only people who lost someone, y'know." His heart wasn't in the malicious tone he usually tacked onto the end of his words, and he ended up shaking his head to clear it. "Look, I don't – let's just forget about it, alright?"
Sarah's gaze fell, but she nodded in return. "I was just trying to help... sorry. From what I know, um, your pulse seems normal. Are you having anymore ghost pains?"
Troy rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah, they're still there. Been goin' in and out for the past few days."
"I think that's normal," the girl replied, biting her lip. "And we can't do anything about it."
"I know," he replied with yet another shrug. Clementine supposed with one less limb he was prone to using his shoulders to express himself more often now – either that, or he really just was passive or clueless about everything Sarah was asking.
"Hey, Clem! Can you c'mere?" Luke called out from across the gift shop, waving her over. Thankful for a distraction and knowing that Troy was in good hands with Sarah, she hurried over to the man. Nick was standing next to him, the two giving her their attention; she glanced up at them expectantly.
"What is it? Are we ready to go?"
Luke bent down to her level, meeting her eyes. This was one of her favorite things about Luke; he treated her with respect and met her gaze, rather than always looking down on her. She smiled as he gave a firm nod. "Yeah, we should be just about ready. How's Troy doin'?"
Clementine shrugged. "Fine, I guess. His fever's gone, and according to Sarah, he seems to be stable..." She knew scratch about medical treatment apart from the basics, so she was useless if he wanted any details. It didn't seem like he was that curious, though, judging by the way he once more nodded.
"I don't know how she can handle him, to be honest," he murmured, looking over at the two of them. Clementine followed his gaze, noting the way Sarah looked a bit more comfortable than before speaking to Troy. He had a look on his face that he wasn't too interested in whatever she was saying, but he also didn't look hostile, either.
Things between them were odd, but so long as he wasn't hurting her, Clementine didn't care. At least he wasn't threatening to hit her every few seconds, nor bragging about how hard he would do it.
"Maybe she sees him as an injured animal," she suggested with a shrug. "Kind of like... a bird with a broken wing."
Nick nodded thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. Sarah's the type to pick up something like that if she saw it was hurt, I think – even an asshole bird."
"Like a rooster," Luke chimed in, giving a chuckle.
Brightening, the girl smirked. "He'll be good to go soon, but we need to give him something better to wear than a t-shirt. Oh, and a weapon would be good, too." She didn't like keeping watch on him; Troy knew his way around a gun, that much was certain, and if he could just use it to protect himself, it wouldn't be a problem.
Nick looked apprehensive. "I'm just... a little hesitant. What if he shoots one of us?"
"We can easily overpower him, and he knows it," Clementine pointed out. "I don't think he'll try anything." She was honestly surprised by her own words; since when did she have so much faith in Troy? Who was to say he wouldn't shoot someone the moment they gave him a spare pistol? Somehow, it just didn't feel possible now, not with how much she went through just to keep the asshole alive.
He wouldn't hurt his saviors, would he?
Nerves gnawed at her insides; what was the right option?
[ Give Troy a gun ]
[ Don't give Troy a gun ]
"We have to," she pursued, shaking her head in dismissal. "Without a weapon and with only one arm, we'd be sending Troy to death."
Luke pursed his lips in thought. "Clem's got a point. He can't really defend himself in his condition without somethin'."
Nick blinked. "Fine, fine, just – be careful."
Clementine had to smile; since when was Nick, of all people, concerned about being careful? The man who'd nearly shot Clementine herself the moment they met, for no reason other than an itchy trigger finger? It was a sign that he was changing, at least; he seemed more cautious nowadays, which wasn't a bad thing.
"Okay, do we have any guns to spare?" she asked, looking around at the group. It looked like Kenny, Mike, Bonnie, Jane, Luke, and Nick had guns at their sides – but were there any extras?
Fortunately, Luke nodded. "We took what we could from Howe's. Think there's an extra revolver – hey! Mike!" He called over, turning his head to look at the man with the scarred ear. Mike was standing against the wall, waiting for the group to be ready to move on; he approached them once Luke waved him over.
"What's up?"
Clementine requested the aforementioned revolver, crossing her arms when his eyebrows raised in almost... surprise.
"Uh..." Mike stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, "What's a kid gonna do with two guns?"
"I'm not just a kid," Clementine snapped, narrowing her eyes. "And it's for Troy."
Understanding wormed its way into the man's features, but a scowl still settled on his lips all the same. "Yeah, not so sure Troy deserves anything I'd give 'em, but... I guess you got a point and all. Guy's gonna be lurker chow if we don't give him something..."
"I can hear y'all, y'know!" Troy hissed from a ways off, flinching as he attempted to get into a kneeling position. Clementine raised a brow as she watched him struggle to do it, waving off Sarah as she attempted to help and getting his trembling knees on the ground. Once he made it that far, he went further, standing up shakily before using the wall behind him as a slight support. He did seem to be doing better, though – the rest had been worth it for that.
Mike snorted and called back, "So? You gonna dispute it? You won't get a gun if you put up a good argument."
Troy's jaw clenched tightly in frustration, but he ultimately said nothing.
"Seems he got the point," Luke commented with a shrug.
"Anyway," the girl continued sternly, reaching out her hand. "The gun?"
"Yeah, yeah..." Mike sighed, clearly reluctant, but reached to his side and unhooked the small revolver, handing it over to the child. "It's got enough bullets to last a little while. I hope he knows we can't waste 'em, though."
Clementine shrugged as she gazed over the silver weapon. "Hopefully." She didn't doubt he knew the value of a weapon, knowing he always had one to tote around back at Howe's. With a nod to the three, she made her way back to Sarah and Troy, pausing before handing the gun over to Troy.
"I'm going to give this to you, but only if you promise to use it for killing walkers only," she began carefully, casting an icy stare his way. "Please don't make me regret this, Troy."
The man sighed, shaking his head and pushing himself forward off the wall, standing as straight as he could and meeting her gaze. His jaw once more clenched tightly, a habit she'd noticed him doing often the more she was around him. With a firm nod, he replied, "I know. I ain't gonna. Believe it or not, I don't got a reason to turn on y'all. If anythin', I can... sorta see why y'all would wanna turn on me." With a scowl, he added quickly, "Don't mean I ain't keepin' my eyes on you!"
With a roll of her eyes, Clementine replied, "Same here." He was right – they had no reason to trust him. At least he was aware of it, though; that alone made her feel slightly better about her decision to give him a weapon. If nothing else, she could say Troy knew his place.
"Not a bad gun, though," he replied thoughtfully, inspecting the revolver. "Colt Python, .357 Magnum. Fires nice, handles well... Bill had one'a these."
Pursing her lips, Clementine snapped, "We probably got it from him, then." She didn't really know the origin of the gun, but Troy's admiration for the gun – and his former leader – was enough to make her question what he was ultimately going to do with the firearm. "After Kenny killed him."
Troy's brow furrowed, an annoyed look crossing his features, but he merely placed the gun on his belt.
Sarah perked up suddenly, clearly oblivious to anything related to weapons. "Oh! I almost forgot! Be right back." Sarah turned around, darting deeper into the gift shop and rummaging through something behind the checkout counter. Troy and Clementine exchanged a glance; she seemed so determined to find whatever it was that they couldn't help but be curious.
After a few moments, the girl returned, a dark blue hoodie in her hands. "This looks like it's your size... I'm glad I found it." Handing it over to Troy, she smiled as he reached out to grab it, a sheepish look crossing her face. "Sorry about... what's on it."
Troy got a good look at the jacket, his eyes growing wider as he noticed the bright white block letters spelling out "PARKER'S RUN," splotches of neon colors dotted over the letters in decoration. Clementine stifled a chuckle; she'd seen such souvenirs before – they reminded her of those sold in boardwalk shops at the beach. Apparently, the civil war gift shop also liked to sell them, making her believe they were popular with tourists. She'd never wear one herself, though.
Reminded of how he'd mocked her bright blue jacket, she absentmindedly commented, "I'm not saying you're a dumbass for wearing that color, but... you're a dumbass." A smirk crossed her lips at the sour look he flashed her in response.
"Can it," he snarled, heaving a heavy sigh. "At least... it looks warm..."
"I think it looks cool!" Sarah exclaimed. "I wish I would've found one in my size."
Scoffing, Troy slipped the jacket on over his t-shirt as best he could, wincing as the fabric brushed against his wound. His eyes trailed over to the sleeve hanging limply at his side, a despondent look on his face. His feelings were quite clear, a sadness crossing his features rather quickly at the thought of wearing a jacket without a limb to place in a sleeve.
Without a word, Clementine reached forward and rolled up the sleeve, knotting and bunching it just below where his wound began. Her eyes met his, and he merely nodded his thanks in silence.
"So now that you're equipped," she finally spoke after a few more moments of quiet, "we can get going."
Troy nodded. "Yeah, fine. This is gonna suck..."
"Don't even start," she hissed back to him with a half-hearted glare. "You're lucky to be alive."
To her surprise, he nodded, acknowledging that he couldn't have gotten to this point without her. With a quick glance at his empty sleeve, he simply murmured, "I know."
The group trudged on slowly, making their way through the snow like molasses. Clementine hugged herself, the bright blue jacket almost blinding in the white snow as she forced her frozen legs to move. She could clearly see her breath puffing out in air in front of her, the teeth chattering being one of the only sounds as they moved along.
Winter was silent – a beautifully cruel season. Instead of snowmen and snow angels, the eleven-year-old had to focus on staying alive by securing warmth and food. Gone were the days of simple snowball fights, where a mug of hot cocoa and a heated blanket would fix any degree of shivers.
Not that she ever did those things herself, being from the South, where it was always warm enough to keep the snow away. But from the Christmas specials she watched on television, those seemed like fun activities to do in the snow.
She let out an extra-long sigh, the breath practically freezing instantly in the cold air. Hugging herself tighter, Clementine glanced at the rest of her group, who was in similar stances.
"F-f-f-fuck, it's cold..." Troy shivered next to her, doing his best to cover himself with his remaining arm. Sarah was on her other side, nodding in agreement with her head lowered. Behind them, Rebecca staggered with Sarita and Bonnie, looking weaker and weaker each step she took.
Nick, Luke, Kenny, Mike, and Jane were spread out ahead; Nick, who was barely in front of Clementine, gazed back at Rebecca, shooting a glare towards Troy. "Stop complaining. It's not gonna change how cold we all feel."
Troy narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Listen, asshole, I just got over a -"
"Yeah, yeah, a fever. I know. I carried your sorry ass up to the observation deck, remember?"
"...what?" The amputee's eyes widened for a moment, processing the question. Clearly, he didn't recall such an event; avoiding Nick's gaze, he snapped in reply, "Well, no one fuckin' asked you to."
Nick was just about to respond when Sarita called ahead, a worried tone to her voice. "Kenny! Kenny, we need to slow down."
The man shook his head. "Can't do that, Sarita! We gotta get somewhere safe before sundown. Gotta get to Wellington..."
"But Kenny..." Sarita chewed on her lip, glancing at Rebecca, who was clinging to her tightly with one hand and holding AJ in her other. Her frame was barely supported by Bonnie, who was trying her best to help.
The new mother shook her head, her fingers tightening around Sarita's jacket. "No, I... I can keep moving. You don't have to stop."
"No, Rebecca, you need to rest," Luke chimed in, shaking his head. "Kenny, I said we gotta stop!"
"I said we can't, goddammit!" Kenny hissed, snapping his head back with a glare. His raised voice woke up AJ, who started to cry at the loud volume. The man's face instantly softened, and he slowed his pace. "...alright, fine – but not for too long. How 'bout here?"
All at the same time, everyone slowed down, coming across an abandoned campsite. All the equipment was buried in snow, making it barely useable for even sitting on. Rebecca didn't seem to mind, though; she stopped with the rest of the group, sitting herself down on a snow-covered chair.
Sarita crouched near her, her tone growing more anxious. "Just focus on AJ, Rebecca. It will be okay. You'll be alright..."
Clementine approached the weak woman, glancing over her weak framed. Her hands were trembling, clutched tightly around the bundled baby in her lap. With her body hunched over and her head drooping, she looked as though she was... dying.
Her eyes lifted to meet Clementine's, and the girl's heart nearly stopped. The fire was gone, no trace of a spark in her brown irises.
No. She really was dying.
Clementine's blood ran cold as she gazed at Sarita, who had the same grief-stricken look, and bent down to Rebecca's level, murmuring, "Rebecca...? Rebecca, how are you doing? Can you hear me?"
The woman barely noticed her at first, the weakness from birth and physical exhaustion proving too much for her. Finally, her tired eyes did meet the girl's, the smallest of smiles cracking on her lips. "He's so... handsome..." Her frozen fingers curled around the baby more, a shuddering breath leaving her.
"He is," Clementine replied, her voice cracking. "He's very lucky he's going to be taken care of by so many good people."
Rebecca's head leaned down even more, her arms physically wrapping around AJ protectively. "I love you... my little man... Please be safe."
Clementine's eyes went dull as she watched the woman take her last breaths, bringing up her gun. The barrel was pointed towards the mother, but she showed no fear of dying; instead, a desperate plea was evident quite clearly in the browns of her eyes.
"Wh- what are you doing?!" Sarah cried suddenly, grabbing onto her friend's arm. "Why are you going to shoot Rebecca!?"
"I have to, Sarah," Clementine muttered in response.
Luke placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "She's dyin', Sarah. And you know what happens..."
Or maybe she didn't. Maybe Carlos sheltered her so much that she didn't know that bite or no bite, everyone was infected and would turn when they die. That even Sarah herself would become a walker if no one was around to put her down. Perhaps, Clementine reasoned, that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. So long as Sarah knew how to fight walkers and know to put people down when they were bit, the other parts weren't necessary to know...
No, that was selfish of her; what if Sarah was with someone, alone, and she went to sleep feeling safe but the other died in their sleep and attacked her? What if she came across someone who she thought was just sleeping but really they'd already died? All sorts of scenarios flew through the girl's mind.
Now she could see some of Carlos's plight. But Clementine owed it to her friend to be truthful, and not hide anything from her. "Even if you're not bit, you still turn after you die," she whispered, turning her attention back to Rebecca. Before she did, however, it was hard to miss the horrified look in Sarah's eyes.
Rebecca merely focused on AJ, the child blissfully unaware in slumber. Her breath began to slow down, but her eyes didn't yet close.
Clementine nearly pulled the trigger there, but a loud shouting stopped her. Raising her gaze in the direction of the noise, she heard a faint squeaking sound, along with a figure limping a while away from them.
"Hello!" the person cried, waving their arms.
"...What is this?" Mike asked.
"No idea," Bonnie replied, patting the gun at her side. "But we can't be too careful..."
"Damn right we can't," Troy snapped, stepping forward and yelling, "The hell do you want!?"
Jane leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder. "What are you doing, you idiot?!"
Troy shot a glare her way and snarled, "We don't know them! They could be anyone!"
"So give 'em an incentive to shoot us?!" Nick hissed. "Just keep quiet for once, you stupid rooster!"
"What the fuck did you call me -" The amputee looked as though he'd rip Nick's skin off, but the figure yelled out a greeting once more, its staggering form revealing a tall teenage boy with a leg brace and glasses. Clementine had honestly never seen him before, but he seemed to know them.
She glanced around, receiving shrugs and blank stares from the rest of the group.
"Uh... hello there," Luke called back, lifting an arm awkwardly in a wave. "What, uh... what can we help you with?"
"Greetings," the boy replied, creaking to a stop in front of them. His voice had a heavy accent to it; was that... Russian? Clementine couldn't be sure. "You are those who stayed at the Parker's Run, are you not?"
Kenny stepped up, eyes narrowed. "Yeah, what of it? Who's fuckin' askin'?"
"I am Arvo. And... er... you are...?"
Clementine stood up. "I'm Clementine," she greeted, trying to make this situation at least a little less awkward. It didn't really help, though, but at least Sarah joined in and introduced herself as well.
"Oh, I am so glad to know... ahem... so glad that your group is... Теперь здорова, yes?"
"Uh, can we get that in motherfuckin' English?" Kenny asked, receiving a glare from Sarita.
Arvo's eyes narrowed and his smile suddenly vanished, a deep frown taking its place. "Healthy now. So I would like to say... you give us your things now. Place on the ground, and no one will get hurt." He held up a gun, his hand trembling.
Troy snorted. "You think you're gonna hurt anyone with that revolver? You can't even fuckin' grip it."
"I will – I don't want to shoot! Do not – do not make me shoot! Сволочи!"
"Whoa, whoa..." Mike began, holding up his hands. "Just take it easy there, kid. Maybe we could work out a trade of some kind..."
Jane narrowed her eyes. "We're not giving anything to the likes of you. You're awfully brave to try to rob us alone."
"Rob? Rob you?!" Arvo cried, his gaze darting to the forest. "Теперь здорова!"
Before Clementine could even blink, a few other strangers came out into the open, two standing behind Arvo with guns in their hands. Others appeared in the forest, weapons pointed towards the group.
"Wh- who are these people?!" Bonnie cried.
"And what the fuck is goin' on?" Troy squawked. The rest of the Russians – at least, she assumed they were all as such – cackled, their dark laughs echoing throughout the quiet white landscape. Arvo's eyes glittered with resentment, still holding his gun up.
"Wh- why are they laughing?" Clementine asked, trying to get in front of Sarah as best she could. The girl was clinging to the material of her jacket, panicked breaths leaving her rapidly.
"They think it is funny... that you are just a маленькая девочка, er... little girl. Do you steal all supplies that you find?" Arvo asked, his voice cold.
Kenny looked down at her, bewildered. "You stole from these guys, Clem...?"
Clementine shook her head. "What? No!" What could they be talking about? Her eyes darted around, looking at each member of the group as if they had the answer.
And suddenly, it dawned on her the moment she looked at Jane. The supplies they'd found – the medicine that had saved Troy's life – had belonged to this group. And despite her not originally wanting to, she had stolen them. She'd taken from these people just as the Motor Inn group took from the stranger's car.
Still, she tried to plead her case; it had to be different! "That stuff... it had been stuffed into a garbage can! And – and we needed it!"
"Нет!" Arvo snapped back. "You are not special! You do not get to take things without последствий – without consequence!"
"Арво, это воры? Они украли запасы?" One of them called out.
"Да, это они. Они забрали лекарства," Arvo answered.
"Что ты делаешь? Положил оружие!" The girl next to Arvo, who seemed pale, hesitated on bringing her gun out. "Она – маленькая девочка!"
"Заберем все, что у них есть!"
"Посмотрим, как им это понравится!"
The yells in Russian were overwhelming; Clementine felt the tension crawl through the air like spiders through a web. She picked at the hem of her coat, biting her lip.
"We didn't know those were your supplies," Sarita explained, her hands raised in defense. "Please, we have to get the baby and his mother out of the cold."
"You have a baby with you..?" Arvo practically gasped, his eyes widening behind his glasses. Turning to his cohorts, he said, "Стоп! Не стреляйте!"
"I- I'm scared, Clem!" Sarah cried. "What are they saying!? Why are they pointing guns at us?!"
"Look, we don't want any trouble!" Mike yelled, retracting his gun nonetheless. Troy reached for his gun, as did Luke, Nick, Bonnie, and Kenny. Sarah cowered behind Sarita, who was doing her best to protect the girl.
"Тогда бы вы не украли наших лекарств!"
Clementine retracted her weapon as well, just in case, but not before easing in front of Rebecca. She hadn't gotten the best look at the dying woman until now; she had become paler, a horrible purple color to her skin. Her eyes, now closed, reopened with an almost feral glow to them.
Why did this happen!? Was it really because of the cold, or was this the result of not being given painkillers in time? Because Clementine had chosen the life of a man who didn't deserve it over a laboring mother?
"Fuckin' back up now if you want out of this!"
"Everyone, put your guns down! Please!"
"Сволочи!"
"I- I can't breathe! S-Sarita, I can't-"
Her sadness was eaten by panic when she noticed the reanimated woman begin to growl and swing her arms, not yet noticing the little snack sitting on her lap.
[ Shoot Rebecca ]
[ Call for help ]
AJ was in trouble! Clementine didn't hesitate; she pointed the gun at Rebecca and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, though, that was a signal to the others to begin shooting, and the world disappeared in a blur of gunshots and screams.