"So, you spent all afternoon shoveling chicken shit?" asked Mick.
"No, not all afternoon," answered Sarah. "We finished that pretty quickly."
"They use their poop for fertilizer," added Clementine. "We had to throw it in these big compost bins."
"Ugh, that smell," said Sarah.
"Then we fed them, gave them water, checked all the roach traps and fly paper around Shaffer's for any dead bugs, and then helped make feed for tomorrow," listed Clem.
"That was the hard part," said Sarah. "Gertrude is trying all these different combinations, so we had to keep sorting all these ingredients for her to mix into buckets. We had to ground up old dog food and shred all these leaves."
"What about the eggs?" asked Matt.
"We got them while Gertrude was getting the feed," said Sarah.
"She left you two alone?" asked Mick.
"Yeah, why?" asked Clem.
"It's just, we never get that kind of trust," said Mick.
"It's because they're girls," scoffed Matt.
"What does us being girls have to do with anything?" asked an annoyed Clem.
"Everyone's always nicer to girls than boys," asserted Matt. "You chicks get everything easier."
"Nicer? Look at our faces," demanded Clem. "Does it look like they've been nice to us?"
"Everyone away from the door!" Clementine looked over to see Maude frisking Adam before ushering him into the pen and locking the door.
"Look at his face," suggested Matt as Adam moved towards the nearest bed. "That's how nice people are to boys." Adam crawled under one of the beds and disappeared from sight. "Nobody feels sorry for him."
"I do," said Sarah.
"I do too," added Clem in a more defiant tone.
"Good for you. None of the adults here do," said Matt. "That Cookie guy didn't care that we were in the pen when we met him. He sees you two and it's some big tragedy. It's because you're girls and everyone is supposed to feel sorry for you."
"Maybe that's because we're younger than you," suggested Clem.
"By what exactly? Mick's only a few years older than her. You thought I was a kid when you saw me. You really think he'd care if we were younger?"
"Well, how did Cookie act when he met Adam?" asked Sarah.
"How would I know? I don't care what the chef thinks of the weird kid," said Matt.
"I'm pretty sure he was weirded out when he saw him eat though," added Mick.
"You know, a lot of things are harder for girls," argued Clementine.
"Like what?" asked Matt.
"Well, there's that one thing that only happens to girls," stated a nervous Sarah.
"What thing?" Matt's question just seemed to embarrass Sarah.
"Is this that thing you're going to tell me about when I get older?" Sarah nodded to Clementine.
"The secret thing only girls know about that makes things harder. Yeah right," scoffed Matt.
"Matt, give it a rest," urged Mick.
"No way, they got it easier," insisted Matt. "People don't expect girls to do anything."
"Yes they do. People are always telling us what to do and not listening to us. They wouldn't do that if we were boys," rebutted Clem.
"Bullshit. No one listens to us either, and we get pushed around all the time. Right Mick?"
"Matt, enough," said Mick in a louder voice.
"What do you think Adam meant when he said bad things happen to nice girls?" pondered Sarah.
"I like how all these things that make girls' lives harder is secret stuff no one talks about," noted Matt. "Probably because it's not real, otherwise it'd happen to boys too."
"Matt, why don't you shut up for a while?" snapped Mick.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mick didn't answer Matt, leading to an awkward silence.
"Everyone away from the door!" Clem's eyes lit up as she saw Christa and Walter being ushered into the pen.
"Clementine," called Christa. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, are you?"
"Just tired," said Christa as she sat down on a bed.
"Me too," said a weary Walter.
"I can't believe they're making you work even though you're pregnant," professed a saddened Clementine.
"I can't believe they'd work a wounded nine-year-old girl," echoed an equally saddened Christa.
"Matt was just saying how much easier we have it because we're girls," informed a bitter Clem.
"Oh really?" Matt looked nervous as Christa turned towards him. "You see this?" Christa pointed to her stomach. "This is nine months of a girl's life being made harder. Something we have to do for every single person ever born, which is another thing we've got to look forward to, childbirth. You want to know what a cervix is? How bout—"
"Okay, I get it, stop. Yeesh." Matt inched away from Christa.
"Cervix?" asked Clem.
"Just part of where babies come from," smirked Christa. "God knows what these people are going to do to me when I go into labor," she remarked in a more weary tone.
"Knowing them, they'll probably keep working you, then they'll work your baby too," stated a bitter Mick.
"I really hope you're joking, but I gotta a feeling you're not," said Christa.
"Well surely they'll have moved you out of the pen by then," reasoned Walter. "Bill said that Byron man only spent two days here. So—"
"Byron got out because he was a soldier, or something, he knew a lot about guns," explained Mick. "He overhead that Pete guy bitching about his favorite revolver breaking at lunch and told him he could fix it. He didn't go back to the pen after that because he had something these people needed that they couldn't get from anyone else."
"That must be why I never came here before. Because my dad was a doctor," realized Sarah.
"You gonna tell me those assholes who like to rough up little girls all have some special skill?" asked a dubious Christa.
"Well that's the other way to get out of the pen," said Mick. "Prove you're loyal to Bill."
"That must be why I'm here now," concluded a despondent Sarah. "Because we weren't loyal."
"How does one go about proving their loyalty?" asked Walter.
"Line up for supper!" Everyone watched as Edmund pushed his cart towards the door.
"That guy got out for ratting on other people in the pen," whispered Mick. "And all he got was a delivery job out of it. God only knows what those assholes with the guns have to do."
Maude opened the gate, allowing Edmund to push his cart in. Clem got her cup of water and a bowl from Edmund. Supper was some rice with lettuce and radish slices in it. Not exactly as appetizing as breakfast and lunch, but still much better than what Clem had become accustomed to in recent months.
"Are you Clementine?" asked Edmund in a quiet voice as Clem returned her bowl and cup.
"Um, yeah," answered a nervous Clem.
"Bill said to give you this." Clem watched as Edmund removed a pink backpack from his cart.
"See, girls get everything," remarked Matt. "They never gave us our stuff back." Clementine ignored Matt's remark and immediately sat down to check the pack's contents. Not surprisingly her gun was missing but, much to Clem's disappointment, so was her radio and her two books. The only things left were three pieces of paper.
Clem looked through her drawings again, first of Kenny, Katjaa and Duck, then Lee, then she looked at Sarah's note again. Clem set the note down and turned to her friend, who was staring in Edmund's direction, an anxious look on her face.
"What's wrong?" Sarah didn't answer, she just kept watching Edmund as he pushed his cart towards the door. "Sarah?"
"He didn't come back," said a choked up Sarah as Maude latched the gate behind Edmund.
"You mean, your dad?"
"He's never coming back." Sarah rolled onto her bed. "What am I going to do?" whimpered Sarah as she curled up into a fetal position.
"Sarah," spoke Christa in a concerned voice. "I know this might sound horrible, but if your father doesn't come back, and he may still, but if he doesn't, it's not the end of the world. You'd still be alive, and we'd help you."
"I… I couldn't go on without him," confessed a depressed Sarah.
"Yes you could," encouraged Clem. "I mean, I hope you don't have to, but if you had to, you could." Clem's heart sank as she looked at a broken Sarah. "I… I had to."
"You've still got your mom." Clem covered her face, trying her best not to cry.
"Sarah, there's something you should know about me and Clementine." Christa put her arm around Clem. "I'm—"
"Away from the door!" Everyone looked to the gate. Between the fence and Maude standing in the way, it was hard to see who was coming. Sarah sat up and watched the door, eagerly awaiting whoever was approaching.
"Nick?" Everyone watched as the haggard young man barely managed to limp into the pen before collapsing onto the ground. Walter and Christa helped Nick into the nearest bed while Sarah turned back to the door. She watched in anticipation as someone else stumbled through the entrance.
"Dad!" Carlos fell to his knees after Maude shoved him into the pen. Sarah rushed to him as Maude latched the gate. "Dad?" Carlos remained on his knees, gasping for breath. "Dad, get up," begged a teary Sarah. "Please?"
Carlos looked up at his daughter. "Sarah?" Carlos looked at Sarah, as if he didn't recognize her, then suddenly threw his arms around his daughter. "Sarah! Thank God!" He croaked in a weak voice. "Thank God you're okay."
"Dad, what happened? What did they do to you?" bawled Sarah as she clung to her father as tightly as she could.
"I'm okay sweetheart. I'm okay now that you're here," assured Carlos as tears ran down his face. "I'm just very tired."
"Then you should rest, right now," insisted Sarah as she guided Carlos to the nearest bed.
"I love you Sarah," croaked an emotional Carlos.
"I love you too Dad." Clem watched as Sarah helped Carlos into bed, even helping to take his shoes off, and found herself envious of Sarah being reunited with her father.
"Maude, come back," called Hector's voice over the radio.
"Maude here, go head."
"You can take off. Everyone's back at the pen."
"Copy that."
"Wait, not everyone's here." Walter moved to the fence. "Where's Felicity?"
"She's not coming." Maude reached for the lantern.
"Why not?"
"Lights out." Maude switched the lantern off and walked away, leaving Walter and the others in the dark. Walter sat down on the bed, a devastated look on his face.
"Sorry man, but she's gone," explained Mick with a hint of sympathy. "Like I said, business as usual."
Looking around in the dark, Clem could see Sarah closely intertwined with Carlos, clutching him lovingly as she pulled the covers over herself and her weary father. Looking away, Clem saw Christa sitting down on a bed.
"Christa?" said Clem as she approached the woman. "Can… can I sleep in your bed tonight?"
"You scared sweetie?" asked Christa.
"No. I'm just… kinda lonely," admitted Clem.
"Oh, Clem. Of course you can." Christa gestured for Clem to come closer. "As long as you're okay with sharing a bed with someone as big as me."
"It's fine," assured Clem as she climbed into bed. "I'm little, so I don't need much space."