Clementine's gaze jumped to every single body that was laid out in front of them. Some were on their backs and some of them were on their stomachs; one was sitting up, propped up against a large rock. But there was one thing they had in common: fresh blood covered the faces and heads of every single one of them. None of them were walkers.

Pete took a step forward towards the closest corpse, a male on his back. He knelt down to examine the body, then poked it twice with the barrel of his rifle. He stood back up to his full height with a noise that sounded something like a cross between a sigh and a groan.

"Full o' holes." Pete told Clementine and Nick.

Clementine couldn't take her eyes away from the bloody corpses, but managed to choke out, "… Who do you think did this?" Nick, on the other hand, stayed silent.

"Not sure yet." Pete replied over his shoulder. "… But it ain't your average group of thugs – that much, I know."

A miniscule shake of his head was the only thing that clued both of them in that Nick could even move. His eyebrows knitted together as he grimaced and said quietly, "Think about it." His eyes widened. "You're Carver. What do you do?"

Carver. There was that name again, and Clementine had had enough of the mystery.

"Who's Carver?" she finally managed to say, glancing to Nick.

Nick and Pete shared a look, though neither answered her. Instead, Pete simply looked away and told Nick, "Check those guys there." He nodded to several of the corpses behind him. Nick began to walk over, clutching his rifle like a lifeline. "Be careful. Some of 'em might still be moving."

Annoyance and a small amount of fear filled Clementine. Pete trusted her – and Nick seemed to as well – but they still wouldn't tell her who Carver was. And now she knew that they seemed sure that he was behind the massacre remnants they had just stumbled upon.

Pete and Nick both set off in opposite directions – Nick towards the tree line, and Pete towards the river. Clementine looked both ways and decided immediately that she trusted Pete's sense of direction and safety a lot more than she trusted Nick's.

She carefully approached Pete, who knelt down to examine the body of a dark skinned man.
"What can I do?" Clementine asked quietly, staring at the corpse's bloody face. Had it not been for the blood, the man may have looked like he was sleeping or unconscious.

"See if you can find anything else." Pete murmured, looking away from the corpse.

"… Like what?"

"Somethin' that might tell us who did this." he responded, glancing around at their surroundings.

Clementine turned away, lightly stepping towards a body about two feet away from Pete. This one was also male, lying on his side; dried, brown and red blood was caked around two bullet holes in the back of his head. His hands were positioned on his right side, both splattered with blood.

"This one's shot too."

"Through the head?"

"Yeah."

"Check the rest," Pete replied as Clementine stood up to her full height. "And look for ammo. We're runnin' low." He looked down at the body he was examining, also standing up, and grimaced.

Clementine moved to turn towards Nick – something caught her eye: there were more bodies on the other side of the small river, and up against the bank.

Nick joined them both, looking alarmed. Pete didn't look back at him and Clementine immediately.

"This wasn't no rinky-dinky pissin' match." he said, just barely loud enough for them to hear.

"What was it, then?" Nick demanded, an alarmed expression crossing his face.

Pete still didn't face either of them as he said something that to Clementine, sounded like, "Fubar." and continued on closer to the river.

"Where you goin'?" Nick demanded again. Clementine looked up at him, alarmed. He seemed just as angry as he seemed scared. "We need to get the fuck outta here!"

Pete gazed back briefly, but then looked back to the river. "We gotta check the rest."

"What? WHY?"

Pete took a step into the shallow river and began to make his way across. He provided no explanation and instead hollered, "Calm down and think about it, son!"

"Calm down? We gotta get outta here now!"

Pete had reached the other side of the riverbank by now. "Jesus Christ – get a hold of yourself!" he shouted, annoyance obvious in his voice.

Clementine turned to Nick, though a large amount of dread filled her system. "What if someone's alive, Nick?" She didn't know what they would do, but the possibility made her worry.

"Who cares?" was Nick's immediate response. Clementine knew this was all fear talking, and nothing rational was coming out of him.

"'cause they might just be inclined to tell us who did this!" Pete shouted over to him. He placed his hands on his hips and glared at his nephew, still annoyed. "We gotta do this now."

There were several rocks that provided a completely dry passage across the water. Carefully, Clementine held out her arms to balance and jumped from one to another until she had reached Pete's side. She wanted absolutely no part in a repeat of the other night; her ribs ached just thinking about it.

"Stay here," Pete finally said to Nick. "Keep searchin' the ones on your side."

Anxiety was practically radiating off of Nick at this point. He clutched his rifle again, this time not showing an inclination that he would be letting go anytime soon, and backed away apprehensively.

"… This is a dumb idea!" he called back.

"You know, Nick," Pete suddenly called in response, "I don't like this either, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to realize a simple truth."

"What?" Nick snarled. "That you're an asshole?"

"That nobody in this world is ever gonna give a goddamn whether you like somethin' or not!" Nick's facial expression changed to one of a petulant child. "You gotta grow up, son!"

Nick turned on his heel and his only response was, "Whatever." as he did. He stomped away like a child throwing a tantrum. Clementine scowled; she felt annoyed on her own, but she knew Pete had to feel much worse about that.

He turned around and said, "All right, Clementine. You wanna be useful? Keep an eye on that tree line." Pete scowled in the direction of the trees. "Whoever did this might still be out there, waitin' for another sucker to stumble across this mess."

"Okay, I'll watch it." Clementine immediately agreed, not wanting to make him any angrier than he probably already was. She began to turn to the tree line when Pete spoke again.

"You always so agreeable?" He seemed genuinely amused to Clementine's surprise.

"No."

"Good. You'll fit right in with this outfit."

Clementine turned on her heel, heart jolting, as sudden growling reached her ears. She had expected a group, but instead was only met by a wriggling walker that was trapped between two large rocks against the bank – and it was pinned to the ground by what looked to be a homemade spear.

Pete joined her gaze as he let out a sigh and set off towards the walker.

"Look, just keep your head on straight." he said, and gazed down at the walker. "Same deal. Shot to pieces. Hope this isn't anyone you know…"

"No…"

"Good."

Pulling a face of disgust, Clementine eyed the walker warily as it struggled weakly against the spear. She eyed the weapon as well, a nagging sensation of déjà vu pulling at her mind. Pete pushed his foot against the walker's chest, ripped out the spear, and immediately drove it into the walker's forehead.

It wasn't until the walker ceased movement and Pete tossed down the spear that the memory hit her like a pile of bricks.

The man she had pushed into the jaws of a ravenous walker carried one just like it before he had taken off after her. She remembered exactly what he'd done with it before – how could she forget? Christa's anguished shriek when he forced it into her foreleg still echoed in the back of Clementine's mind.

Pete looked over his shoulder, then huffed.

"Damn it. More on that side – you check out these ones." Obeying his command, Clementine turned to face the other bodies that lay littered around them. Her stomach turned. "See if there's anything that can tell us who they were."

Apprehensively, Clementine locked her gaze on one of the bodies. It lay the furthest away from the others around them, and faced away from her. It was on its side, right on the bank of the stream.

When she saw what was lying next to it, she wanted to yell. Her eyes widened when she saw the bag lying only a few inches away, next to a log. Bright purple and child sized, there was no mistaking it; it was her bag.

A plastic water bottle stuck out.

The body moved. It squirmed and its hand reached out towards the water bottle – and Clementine knew that it wasn't a coincidence. The "body" wasn't just a random walker. It was one of the two other men who had chased Christa at the same time that that – Clementine tried to put the image of her former captor's corpse out of her mind – man had chased her.

By now, her knees felt like lead and her heart thumped against her chest so hard that she could hear it. Clementine inched her way towards the bag. She didn't even reach for it before the man suddenly let out a hacking cough and his eyes snapped open.

The man's clothes were splattered with blood; several spots were darker than others in a way that Clementine automatically knew that they had to be puncture or bullet wounds. His shallow breathing evened out for only a moment, only to be interrupted by more hacking and coughing. He stared up at Clementine, eyes going as wide as they could. He looked from her to her backpack, and then in a random direction.

"You were in the woods with Christa." Clementine managed to force out quietly. She recognized him; he'd been the only one with long hair – some kind of dreadlocks – versus her own short haired captor, and the third man with the hood.

The man's eyelids fluttered as he gasped out, "Please." He again looked to the water bottle as his weak arm reached for it. Clementine didn't move towards the bag. Her hands shook too much and the rest of her was frozen. He had to know what they'd done with Christa.

But Clementine's only feeling was one of dread. What were the odds…?

"… The woman I was with…" she stammered to the man. "What happened to her?"

"Please."

"Tell me what happened to her."

The man's eyelids drooped slowly, but Clementine wasn't focused on that. She felt as though someone was squeezing her too hard. Suspense built up inside as the man opened his mouth to say something again.

Instead, all that reached her ears was Pete's shouting, followed by a gunshot.


AN: Giving y'all an early update because tomorrow is probably going to be kind of busy for me and I don't want to forget! Next Friday's update will be a double update because chapter 13 is barely over 1000 words.