The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye

CHAPTER 45 – MAZE RUNNER

AUTHOR NOTE: I would just like to point out that while I said in the former chapter a new arc would clash with the story in this part, that won't be true because this chapter ended up being longer than I had expected, so I had to cut out the 'new' part. But in the next one, I promise there will things that will change.


Lee scooted down the ladder, almost slipping and succumbing to a ten feet fall. The moans above him echoed in the narrow passageway, as the walkers shoved each other aside for a place around the opening like they were in a Black Friday sale.

Lee reached the bottom. He hopped onto the ground, panting and wiping the sweat off his forehead. It had been a close one on that alley. He looked up, causing him to draw an audible breath. The sight wasn't pretty. Numerous pairs of cinereous arms swayed inside the manhole, eyes pale as the moon gawking down at the human. That empty gaze that was ever so piercing.

It's over. He let himself relax, knowing that he was now in safety.

But his resting came to a halt when he saw a walker squeezing its body into the passageway.

Lee evaded, jumping backwards. The walker fell through the manhole and dove into the concrete. Lee flinched when he heard the crunch of bones shattering, along with daubs of blood that were splattered on the ground. The female zombie was still alive – after all, its brain was intact. It moved its limbs in minimalistic movements, all while groaning.

"Clementine, can you hear me?" Lee shouted towards the opening, with no response. "If you can hear me, just go back to the house! I'll meet you there!"

Lee turned around, facing the depths of the sewers. The maze of tunnels was darkened and dank, the air reeking of stale water. The profound underpass seemed to stretch towards infinity. Geez, I got a long way to go.


Lee turned around yet another corner of a stone wall. He had lost track of time for a while now. Despite being in a relatively safer place, he kept his guard up. From time to time, he heard echoes through the tunnels, and he wasn't sure if they were the dead's moaning or the wind channeling through the pipes.

He froze. In the middle of the tunnel, lying on the ground, there was something. The obscurity and the distance only allowed Lee to see its contours, but it looked like a person. A cold shiver vibrated throughout Lee's body, because there was something perturbingly familiar about that corpse.

Lee tiptoed towards the human silhouette. He was at a loss for words, but with each step the answer came to him. The ginger hair and stubble, the boots speckled with mud, the checkered shirt and the leather vest, the shovel laying on the ground.

Lee sighed deeply as he kneeled next to the body. Otis had its stomach carved wide open, the guts yanked out, similar to snakes rinsed in blood. His face was contorted in a sickening grimace, his tongue dangling off his drooped mouth. The most horrifying were his eyes that were so gorked. Lee covered his lips with the back of his hand, repressing a gag.

"You deserved better, old man." Lee mumbled.

Lee got back up on his feet. It saddened him that he had to just leave him there, in the grime, but he couldn't haul him back. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard more echoes, this time more tangible and definitely animalistic grunts. I'm not alone in here.


After spending what seemed like an eternity in that labyrinth, Lee swore that the walls were closing in on him. Maybe just a claustrophobic sensation. Unlike what he expected, there were a lot of lonely zombie dwellers in those sewers. Lee used water valves to distract them and until then he had managed to sneak by them without fighting.

He was now walking down a dead-end. He was relieved though, because he saw a half-broken ladder leading to the top. Lee stopped in front of it. The ladder was clearly out of his reach and he didn't see any objects for him to stand on. He needed to use another technique.

His eyes rolled up the wall erected in front of him. Like a lightning bolt, he remembered the move Molly had used on the alley, to get on the balcony. She ran up to the wall, set a foot on it and jumped high. Lee scratched his chin. He did have her pickaxe. Lee whipped out the weapon and distanced himself from the wall, canvassing it. The stone walls seemed to be too wet and slippery for him to get a good grip. But that wasn't a problem, since there was a large sign hung, which would make a good landing spot for his foot.

In his mind, he calculated his steps. Run, set foot on the sign, jump, latch onto the ladder. Taking a deep breath, he sprinted towards the wall. When he was close enough, he leapt into the air, setting the tip of his foot on the sign and bouncing high into the air, all of it in just a second.

It was at that moment that something went wrong. His foot lost the grip, like if a rug had been pulled from underneath him. Soon, the ladder became more distant as he landed butt hard on the concrete, along with a rusty creak.

He shook his head. What the hell happened? As the soreness in his derriere dissipated, he saw why he had failed. The sign had broken off the wall and revealed a hidden door. His brain puzzled with questions, he hopped to his feet and approached the entrance. Two words were noticeable on the door – FALLOUT SHELTER.

Poked by curiosity like a mosquito bite, he opened the door. The dim and small room was abundant with food and supplies, organized in boxes and stocked in shelves. It's enough to last us for the months! The surprise didn't seem to end there, as he saw another door at the end of the room. He strolled towards it and opened it.

He was petrified. Inside, there were five people.

The silence fell heavy like an anvil, to be shattered by the cock of a revolved. The hourglass of time had sped up, and Lee solely had a few seconds to analyze the situation. The room, not too big but with a high ceiling, was lit by a few candles spread out. The place was a morgue – it was evident by the cold chambers that were pulled open like drawers, and had sheets and pillows on them to be used as beds. The five people consisted of two women and three men, and they were all quite old. One of the women was considerably younger, maybe in her early forties.

The old man holding the handgun kept it aimed at Lee's chest. Like if it had become an habit, Lee raised his hands, his eyes wide open. He was sure that he was going to shoot. Nowadays, who wouldn't? Lee looked into the eyes of the elder. Maybe I'm wrong. His hands were shaking violently, and the dread in his eyes made it look like he was the one who was more afraid. He wasn't a killer.

"Who are you?" The old man mumbled, with a choked voice.

"It's alright. It's okay. I don't want any trouble." Lee said, in a firm tone.

"Neither do we." The old man said, his voice breaking. "Which is why you'd do well to turn around and leave. Right now."

"Look, I'm sorry I disturbed you folks." Lee said. He just wanted to get the hell away from that place without a bullet lodged in his body, and if that old man was giving him the opportunity of mercy, he was seizing it. "I'll just be going."

"You can't let him leave." The younger woman said. "He's from Crawford! If he goes back there and they out we're down here…"

The younger woman remained stern as she talked, emitting a disdainful glare towards the history teacher. Lee gulped his saliva. His situation had become trickier. The old man stared at the ground, flicking his eyeballs in all directions, before he looked back up at Lee. "A-Are you from Crawford? D-Don't lie to me, I'll know."

"I'm not from around here. I'm from Athens, grew up in Macon."

"I have a brother in Macon." The old man said, his voice softening a little. "You were there? How was it? As bad as here?"

Lee narrowed his eyebrows and muttered a simple phrase. "I'm sorry."

The younger woman twisted her lips, taking a step forward. "You can't trust him, Vernon! You can't let him leave!"

"W-What do you want me to do? Shoot him in the head?!" Vernon exclaimed sarcastically.

"Why not?! That'd be more of a mercy than anyone from Crawford ever showed us! Think, Vernon! What do you think they'll do if they find out we're down here, right under their feet?!"

"I'm not from Crawford." Lee said, keeping his tone casual. "But I saw what they did up there. It made me sick. I'm not like them. And I don't think you are either. I think you're a good man."

Vernon shook his head multiple times. Lee could almost see the gears working inside his brain, contradicting each other between the two choices he had. But the man was reluctant. Lee lowered his arms half-way, moving his leg to take a step towards him. Vernon raised his head in a quick movement and jolted his gun, making Lee come to another halt.

"Keep back or I swear I'll shoot!" Vernon said.

Lee's expression was frozen. Do or die. But he couldn't freeze. He took another step with caution, then another, like a baby walking for the first time. In a slow motion, he wrapped the barrel of the revolver with his fingers and turned to the side, out of harm's way. Vernon lowered his head once again and offered no resistance. Lee slipped the revolver from his hands, while being careful with the trigger.

"Vernon, what the hell are you doing?!" The woman shouted, her eyes now gleaming with panic. Seeing the revolver in the hands of the stranger, she rushed in front of Vernon. "Vernon!"

Lee tucked the revolved into his belt. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt you."

The woman stayed silent and stoic, in front of Vernon. "You're really not from Crawford?"

"No, I'm really not." Lee said.

Clive, who had bushy hair, released a sigh and loosened his arms. With the hostility out of the way, the activity inside the shelter resumed. Boyd, a man with a grizzly white beard, served as a crutch to help the older woman, Joyce, sitting on a bed. The younger woman, keeping a straight posture, went to check on Joyce. Lee was stung in his chest. Those people were quite old and he couldn't help feel some pity for them.

"Well, we are. Or were." Vernon said. "We got out of there when they started sealing up the place, started weeding out the old and sick so their perfect survivor society wouldn't be threatened. No room for weakness or vulnerability in their little master race."

"You don't look that old. So, you're sick?" Lee asked.

"Were sick. We're all members of a cancer survivors group that used to meet here at the hospital. We're in remission. But that wasn't good enough for Crawford! They'd already rounded up five of us before the rest of us managed to hole up and hide down here. This old basement's been abandoned for years."

"What is this? A morgue?" Lee asked.

"Yeah. Irony's always high up on my list when I'm looking for a place to survive." Vernon said. "How did you find your way down here?"

"My group and I were up by the river looking for a boat. Now I just want to get out of here and find them again."

"That sewer system you came through runs through all over the city, it'll take you wherever you want to go."

"Those sewers are like a damn maze. Any chance you could help me find my way back?"

"Look, I'd like to help you. But we've all got out own problems. Two of our group are sick and need constant care, and I'm the only doctor here."

The woman lurched her head towards him. "Besides, why should we help you?"

"Look, I'm sorry if I scared you. I just wanna get back to my people." Lee said. "Back to Clementine."

Vernon uplifted his head, facing Lee. "She's your daughter?"

"No, she lost her real parents. I'm doing what I can." Lee said.

"You're not seriously considering going with him." The woman said.

"It's alright, Brie." Vernon said. "I had a daughter too. Lost her in the first few days. I'll be damned if I just sit back and let that happen to someone else."

"We need you here." Clive said.

"Don't worry." Vernon said. "I'll be back before you know it. Let's go."

Brie breathed loudly, knowing that she wouldn't be able to talk Vernon out of it. The two exchanged a hug. Vernon detached from her and headed towards the door, then nodded towards the door. "Let's go."


"Dammit, Daryl, this seems idiotic, even for you."

Rick ambulated back and forth, tilting his head in quick spasms. Molly leaned against the kitchen counter as the two men spoke. She scoped out each corner of the room, sometimes opening a cupboard to investigate if there was something inside. Daryl knew she was eavesdropping on them, but wanted to act distracted.

"Rick, just drop it." Kenny said, with a bummed expression. "We got other issues right now."

"You guys know we can't be taking anyone else in the group." Rick said, taking a pause from his ambling to say his sentence before resuming it.

"This is pointless. I don't have the patience to argue right now." Kenny said.

Kenny dragged his feet towards the table in the dining room. He let out a sigh, but then held his breath as his eye caught something hopeful. A whisky bottle, right there. He took it and unscrewed the lid, throwing it in the corner. He chugged down a lengthy sip until his lungs were gasping for air.

"Getting three sheets to the wind ain't gonna help anyone." Rick said.

"Yeah, well, what is?! " Kenny said in a rising tone, leaning on the table, half-sitting on top of it. "We are fucked! Molly said there's not a single boat left in Savannah. No way out. We got walkers all around us, that crazy fuck on the radio messing with us…hell, if now ain't the time for a drink…!" Kenny chuckled from the humor of the dire situation, before punctuating his sentence with another sip.

"We didn't have any choice." Daryl whispered, returning to the former talk subject. "She helped us back on that alley."

"Seemed she nearly killed you from what you told me." Rick said, shooting him a glare with his blue, snake gaze.

"She did." Daryl said. "But Lee trusts her. He ain't gonna like if we kick her out."

Glenn got up from the windowsill and walked toward the two men. "Listen, Rick, we took in Hershel and his family. I don't see why we can't do the same with just one person."

Rick passed his tongue behind his teeth. The argument was reasonable. And that was the problem. He was losing. "The more people we take in, the scarcer our supplies will be and there will be a bigger risk of us getting stabbed in the back."

"She won't stay long." Daryl said. "If you want, we'll send her packin' once we're done with her. For now, she oughta stay here."

Carley stormed down the stairs. She felt a tear forming in her eyeball as she once again imagined the bad scenarios that Lee could find himself in, her heart squished by an invisible force. But she suppressed it. Crying is useless. It doesn't take you anywhere.

She headed towards the two men. "Rick, I'm going out there."

"What?" Rick asked.

"Daryl said that Lee escaped into the sewers." Carley said. Her throat felt dry like sand but she made an effort to talk normally. "Why wait for him to come to us? Why not go out there and find him? We know where he is."

"That area's gonna be crawlin' with walkers." Daryl said.

"Then we ring a goddamned bell on the other side of town!" Carley said, accidentally letting her tone elevate. Keep it together, Carley.

"Carley, maybe Lee and I don't always get along but I know him." Rick said. "Ever since the dead first started walking. And I know that he's clever. He won't let himself killed. Not by a walker, not by anything. He knows what he's doing."

Kenny wasn't sure of what kind of alcohol he was drinking – he didn't have the patience to read the label – but it sure was strong. He was already feeling like he was dozing off.

Kenny's drowsy eyes flickered around the house, until they rested upon Ben Paul. Like a punch to the gut, there was a fire welling up in his stomach. A combination of the harshly-downed liquor and the fire of rage. He jostled awake, the sluggishness disappearing. "Hey, you know what? I never got even with you!"

Ben Paul stared at Kenny with a pair of widened eyes. "W-What?"

"You were the fucker who friggin' killed my family!" Kenny vociferated, slithering onto his feet as his grip on the bottle tightened.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rick asked.

"I'll tell you what happened!" Kenny yelled, jabbing his finger towards the teenager. "Back at the farm, there was a walker who pinned Duck and Kat to the ground. That undead fucker was the bastard the bit my son! And this shit-for-brains right here, he watched it all happening! Didn't even try to help 'em!"

Kenny marched towards Ben, breathing heavily like a buffalo. Travis, who was healing up in a chair, hurtled onto his feet, but the pain shot up his leg like a sting, and his weight sent him crumbling to the ground like a bag of flour. Daryl and Rick put themselves in front of the redneck, cementing their stance. Kenny essayed to penetrate the wall they formed but the two men held him back with their arms.

"Get back!" Rick hollered.

"Wanna get down?! I fight better when I'm shit-faced!" Kenny spat, jerking his arm in the air.

"Fuckin' stop!" Daryl screamed.

Kenny coiled his arm, then spun it around, landing his elbow on Rick's cheekbone. Rick was caught off-guard and his head swung backwards, sending Rick to the ground. In an instinct, he tucked his arms in front of his chest before the fall. Stretched on the ground, Rick controlled his respiration, staring at the kitchen tiles. The warmth of the pain in his skull shifted into anger. He stiffened his fingers, scratching the ground with his fingernails. Daryl barely could hold Kenny back and T-Dog had to intervene to replace Rick.

There was only one solution.

"Fuck, are you alright?" Glenn asked, crouching and tugging Rick's shoulder.

Rick ignored his friend's touch. Rick got up slowly, but so calm that it even made Glenn feel a bit afraid. Once he was on his feet, Rick wobbled for a while, regaining his balance. In the background, Kenny's roars resounded in the house. Rick slithered his fingers towards the Colt Python sheathed in his waist holster, then took out the gun.

Ben Paul stood in the same position as ever, with his arms folded and his gaze, ashamed, avoiding Kenny's flaming glare. Travis used a wall to hoist himself up as the entire group viewed the scene like a macabre spectacle. Daryl and T-Dog seesawed like sea waves with Kenny's attempts at tackling them.

Rick gripped the revolver and elevated his arm, ready for the hit.

He struck Kenny in the back of the head with the handle of his revolver. His outcries ceased abruptly as his eyes rolled back in his head and his body became limp. Daryl and T-Dog grunted as they almost dropped Kenny on the ground, but in the end managed to hold him in their arms. Rick stood there, all eyes locked on him. With an austere expression, he put the revolver back into his holster and adjusted his belt with indifference.

"Take him upstairs." Rick said.

Daryl and T-Dog didn't nod. They dragged Kenny along the hallway, his feet scraping the floor with a screech.

"Quite a functional group you got here." Molly smiled, putting her hand on her hip.

Rick shot his eyes towards her. "Not the time."

Within the commotion, they hadn't noticed that someone was standing at the backdoor.


Lee dropped his jaw, looking at the scene unfolding inside the kitchen. It took a long time for Rick's gaze to fall upon him, to which his stern look stamped on his face softened. The rest of the group followed his gaze until they saw Lee, alive, standing there.

"Lee!" Carley gasped.

Carley dashed towards him and tethered him with his arms, almost knocking him over. "Hey, hey, easy girl. I'm okay."

"Dammit, I was worried sick." Carley said.

"Glad to have you back." Rick said with a glow. "I knew you'd…"

Rick narrowed his eyebrows once again, stopping his sentence. Lee was confused for a second, but then realized that he was staring at Vernon. "Lee, who the hell is this?!"

"This is Vernon, he's a doctor, he helped me get back there after we got separated." Lee said.

"And I gotta ask, what the hell happened here?" Vernon inquired.

"Yeah, Rick, why the hell is Kenny knocked out?" Lee asked.

"Kenny got drunk, got into an altercation with everyone, and I had to stop it." Rick said. "He'll be fine. He'll be awake in no time."

Christa came thundering down the stairs, making the wooden steps creak, with urgency resounding in her voice. "Lee, thank God you're back!"

"Christa, what's wrong?!" Lee demanded.

Christa jogged towards Lee, her chest inflating rapidly with fast breaths. "It's Omid. He's gotten worse. Much worse."

Lee sensed Vernon's confusion and turned to him to explain him. "We've got a man wounded."

Christa, who hadn't even noticed the new figure, now darted her gaze towards him. "Who's this?"

"A doctor Lee brought here, apparently." Rick said.

"Oh thank God!" Christa gasped. In normal circumstances, she would be reluctant seeing a stranger, but hearing the word 'doctor' immediately evacuated the suspicious out of her system.

"Could you take a look at him?" Lee asked.

"You have to help us! Please…?!" Christa begged, her shining eyes fixated on the doctor.

Vernon pondered for a few seconds, returning her stare. "I'll see what I can do. Take me to him."

Christa let out a breath of relief, whispering a relief word to herself, before leading Vernon and Lee up the stairs. They entered a bedroom, one with simple furniture and a king-sized bed, with Omid stretched on the mattress. His eyes were shut, he had probably drifted off to sleep.

"Omid, honey, you're going to be alright." Christa mumbled to him. "Lee brought a doctor."

"Alright, let's take a look at him." Vernon said with neutrality in his voice, sitting beside the bed. "I work better without an audience. I'm sure you've got more things to attend to."

Lee nodded and stepped out the room. He scratched his head, wondering what to do now. He recalled that he hadn't laid eyes on Clementine ever since he arrived back from the sewers. He was struck by a wave of worry. "Clementine?"

A shiver clawed in his spine when his call was without an answer. Alright, don't panic. Maybe she didn't hear you. Don't make a big fuss about it. Lee heard some noises in one of the bedrooms. Maybe that's her.

Lee entered the bedroom. Molly was lying on the ground, searching for something underneath the bed. Looking around the chamber, it was clear she had been busy. There were stacks of empty boxes in the corner and every drawer was pulled open.

"What are you doing?" Lee asked.

Molly grunted from the dust collected below the bed and then got up. "Oh, you know. Just poking around."

"You won't find anything, we already searched the place." Lee admonished, folding his arms. Molly shrugged, and went back to inspecting the dusty space below the bed.

"You'd be surprised with what people miss." Molly said. "Trust me, I've been doing this for a while."

Lee scanned the room. No sign of her. "Where's Clementine?"

Molly snorted. "Don't ask me, I'm not her keeper."

Lee clenched his fist at her bold answer. "Hey! Do I look like I'm in the mood to be jerked around? Where did she go?"

"Last I saw, she was downstairs with your group. Why don't you go bug them?" Molly said.

Lee didn't waste any more time with chit chat and waltzed out the room. He galloped down the stairs, the fear swelling in his chest like a cancer. He stopped in front of the living room. "Has anybody seen Clementine?"

Lee saw head shakes throughout the group. Fuck, where can she be?! Lee proceeded onto the backdoor, yanking it open and stepping into the backyard. He darted his eyes in all directions, and spotted the shed doors budging.

He headed towards them and set his hands on the handles. Taking a deep breath, he opened them.

He was pushed back and fell on the ground by someone on the interior. He recomposed himself, only to find Clementine standing there.

"Lee!"

Clementine grasped Lee with her arms, and Lee returned the hug with a smile.

"What were you doing in there?" He asked.

"Exploring." Clementine said. "And look! Look what I found!"

Lee got on his feet while Clementine slowly opened the shed door. When he saw what was inside, he was completely astonished. A boat.

"Whoah…"

"I know right?" Clementine said.

Kenny strolled into the backyard, rubbing the back of his head. He opened his mouth to ask what the ruckus was about, but then laid eyes on the treasure inside the shed. Lee glanced at him past his shoulder. He had a smile flowering in his lips. Hope began flushing back into his mind. He was as sober as he could be. He strolled towards the boat and began examining it.


The sun made its descent behind the endless neighborhoods of cookie-cutter mansions, bathing the streets with an intense orange glow and painting shadows on the pavement. Lee paced around the room, the entire group assembled in the salon like it was an operation room. Kenny was inspecting each nook and cranny of the boat, and it was nearly a damned hour he was at it.

Why is he taking so damn long? The most stressful thing was the silence. There was no sound, like if the world had stopped. It eased him a bit to hear Vernon coming down the stairs and sitting down next to Christa in a sofa. "Omid doing okay?"

"As well as can be expected, from the circumstances." Vernon said, folding his arms. "I did what I could for him, cleaned out the wound. But he's got a real infection, running a fever. Without antibiotics…"

"Will you quit pacing?" Molly said. "You're making everyone nervous."

"Why are you even still here?" Rick asked.

"Hey, if your friend really can get that boat working, you're taking me as payment for saving your asses. Figure that's fair enough, don't you?"

They cut their conversation when they heard the chirr of the back door opening. Kenny walked into the salon, palms in his hips and a hunkered head.

Lee had a feeling that something wasn't right. "Well?"

Kenny let out a sigh. "You want the good news or the bad news?"

"I figure we oughta get the bad news out of the way first." Lilly said.

"Bad news is she's not taking us anywhere the shape she's in right now." Kenny said. "Gas tank's empty and the battery's dead."

"So what's the good news?" Christa asked.

"That's it, that's all she needs." Kenny said. "Some gas and a battery. Other than that, she's good to go."

"Well, how are we supposed to get that stuff?" Maggie asked.

"We should go back out on the street, see what we can find." Lee said.

"That's not gonna work." Molly said. "Crawford took everything and brought it inside their walls. They siphoned every gas tank, stripped every battery. There's nothing left out there, you saw that for yourselves."

"She's right." Vernon said.

"I have an idea." Rick said. "What about this Crawford place? They seem like they'd have everything we'd need, we could try there."

Vernon lifted his head as he heard that word that was like a taboo. He stiffened his expression, his upper lip twitching. "Now hold on a minute…"

"Rick's right." Christa said, standing on her feet. "If there are still people in this city who have the stuff we need, what harm would it do to ask?"

"Trust me, you don't know these people." Vernon said. "I do. You showing up with a wounded man? Might as well put a noose around his neck. They don't exactly welcome children with open arms, either."

Christa let out a shocked breath. "What the hell kind of place are we talking about here?"

"The worst kind." Molly said. "But I don't see what other choice we have."

"And just how exactly do you figure we do this?" Kenny asked.

"We're armed, and we got the numbers." Rick said. "If we play our cards right, we can take what we want by force."

"Okay, that is literally the dumbest idea I have ever heard." Molly said. "Crawford's like a military base, they've got hundreds of people in there armed to the teeth, and that perimeter's guarded day and night. You're gonna have to be smarter than that."

"Maybe we can be." Vernon said. "I know the sewer system that runs through Crawford like the back of my hand. Y'all wouldn't happen to have a map by any chance?"

Lee had a flash of the map that he used with Clementine on the train, and fished inside his pocket. "Yeah, actually…"

Lee unfolded the map on the coffee table, the group members gathering to look at it. Vernon scrutinized it with his hand on his chin. He made a sound of acknowledgment and ran his finger through the map. "I think I could lead us through so we can pass under the perimeter and right into the center, where they keep their supplies. We come up right underneath them, take them by surprise, grab what we need and get out before they even knew what hit them!"

"Okay, that's not bad. That's better." Molly said.

"I've thought about it before, just never had the people to do it." Vernon said. "But I think that if we all work together, we could pull it off!"

"And what do you want in return for all this help you're givin'?" Rick asked.

"Crawford doesn't just have what you need for your boat, they're also well-stocked with medical supplies. Medicine that my people could use, just as yours."

"We can do this. We have to!" Christa said.

"So, this for real? We going to Crawford?" Kenny asked.

"We can do it. I know it." Lee said.

"Are we seriously talking about this? I mean, what about the risk?" Ben Paul asked.

"Just shut up, chicken shit, before I knock you out cold." Kenny said. "That boat out there is an answered prayer, we just have to push a little harder."

"We should go tonight, under cover of dark." Vernon said. "I'll go let my people know, give you all a chance to prepare. I'll be back before midnight."

"Be careful." Christa said.

Vernon halted his sauntering for a second to look at her past his shoulder. "That's how I'm still alive."

"We can't take a lot of people into a sneak mission." Lee said, after hearing Vernon leaving the house. "I'll take Molly, T-Dog and Kenny."

"I should go too." Rick said.

"No, you should stay here and hold down the fort." Lee said. "And as I said, we can't take too many people. We can do this."

Lee spun around and walked out the salon, feeling Rick beaming his gaze on him. Lee rubbed his temples. God, I hope this doesn't go awry. Then, there was something that caught his attention, in his peripheral vision. He turned his head and saw Clementine sitting on the stairs, her legs dangling between the railing bars.

"I told you to stay in your room. How long have you been there?" Lee asked.

"Is it going to be dangerous?" Clementine said.

"Is what going to be dangerous?"

"Crawford."

"I can't lie to you, Clem." Lee said. "Yeah, it's gonna be dangerous. But it's the only way to get the things we need to make Omid better, and get the boat working. That's why we have to do this. Do you understand?"

Clementine lowered her head. "I don't want anyone else to die."

"Neither do I, Clem. But sometimes you have to take that kind of risk."

Clementine nodded. Lee smiled, and started heading up the stairs. She grappled the railing and slithered onto her feet. "I guess I should go get ready."

Lee halted like there was an invisible wall in front of him, with spanned eyelids. "Say what now?!"

"You said I'm a big help, remember?" Clementine said. "And maybe I can help you. Molly said that Crawford is the only place in Savannah that still has people. That means that it must be where my mom and dad are, right?"

"Where I'm going, it's just too dangerous. Especially for children."

"You said I'm always supposed to stay close to you. Can't I come with you?"

Lee processed her request. He had no desire to put her in such a risk, and while he didn't want to admit it, he didn't think they would find her parents. But she really seemed convinced and he didn't want to sadden her. Fucking hell. "Okay, you can come. But you have to promise to stay quiet and do what you're told the whole time we're there."

"Okay, I'm gonna go get ready." Clementine said with enthusiasm, rushing up the stairs.

Lee sighed and shook his head. What the hell have I done?