A/N: Apologies for the long delay on this chapter everyone, college has been very stressful this first semester. However, once the heavier classes are done, I will have much more time on my hands to write the story.
Hers Jr: Just to clear any quick confusion, Scavs are simply the nickname they gave bandits (inspiration from Escape from Tarkov), while scavengers are still a separate type of survivor. Also yes, Zoey does have brown hair as stated within the chapter. The red haired person you must be thinking about was Wendy, the babysitter in Zoey's memories from Days Gone.
Disclaimer: I do not own Telltale's The Walking Dead, only my characters.
Beach Head
February 18th, 0132 Local Time, 2007
Zoey sat against a rock and held a hand over her chest as she violently coughed up a mouthful of water. The river had been much stronger than it appeared, having almost pulled her under its surface a few times as she, Molly, and Clementine attempted to liberate themselves from its grasp. She could only wonder what would've happened had she not known how to swim.
I'd probably- no, definitely be dead by now. Zoey thought as she took a deep breath. The feeling of the cold torrents of water biting against her skin was not something she wished to go through again anytime soon. But at least none of them died, so that was a plus.
"Holy shit, we made it! We actually fucking made it!" Molly exclaimed with a relieved look on her face. Clementine voiced a similar attitude, albeit with a bit less joy as she wrung the sleeve of her olive green zip-up jacket.
Looking back at the bridge, the bright beams of the Humvee's headlights lit up the area where they had jumped off. A multitude of voices were shouting at each other loud enough that Zoey could hear it over the sound of the crashing rapids. Dusting the sand off her clothes, she pushed herself to her feet. "We're not out of the woods yet. Come on, we need to get out of here before they gain some brain cells and take another route." Zoey assertively stated, insulting the bandits in the process.
Walking along the riverbank, the bridge, and subsequently, the entirety of St. Louis disappeared from sight. Eventually coming along a set of stairs that led up the cliffside, they made their way up the concrete u-shaped stairwell, careful to avoid the steps that were missing pieces of the building element. As they reached the top, the old buildings that made up the crumbling city were gone, replaced with large patches of vegetation along a dirt path surrounded by trees.
Due to the darkness, the survivors turned on the angle head flashlights clipped on their backpack straps, illuminating the way forward. The sound of crickets chirping mixed with the gravel crunching beneath their boots gave the area a serene presence, something they hadn't felt in a long time. As a seemingly added benefit to the area's serenity, fireflies buzzed around in all directions.
It almost feels like those times when Dad and I went camping, except now everyone and everything is trying to kill us. So yeah, almost. Zoey thought. The trio had been on the move for so long that they hadn't gotten the chance to truly stop and relax. It didn't help that their schedule typically consisted of shooting walkers one day and running from bandits the next, both of which led to shortages in supplies and long days of traveling the endless road of survival.
Coming across a house overrun by nature, the building was mostly intact save for some broken windows, and seeing as they were low on supplies and energy from running for their lives and nearly drowning, the house would give them the respite they needed if they wanted to continue on. Testing the front door, it was thankfully unlocked as Zoey twisted the knob with ease. Pushing it open, the trio dragged themselves inside before setting their stuff down by the couch.
The interior fared no better with torn wallpaper and broken furniture scattered throughout the house. At first glance, there weren't any signs of people having lived here recently which was a welcome relief. Faded photos of American landmarks hung from the walls and mantles, with some frames having fallen to the floor.
A perfect place to hide if you asked Zoey.
Without a word, Clementine released a yawn and fell face first onto the couch, letting out a lengthy groan as she sunk into the soft cushion. Zoey rolled her eyes as she took a seat next to Clementine, rubbing a hand over her face with an exhausted sigh. Even with getting some much needed shut-eye, she was still mentally exhausted. At least we won't have to worry about being found by those bastards, for now at least. Zoey thought as Molly sat in the chair next to her.
Unzipping her backpack, Molly dug her hand inside and began rummaging around. "We should be safe to rest here, at least for the night. In the morning we need to keep going, get as much distance between us and St. Louis as possible." Molly stated, pulling out a map and opening it up on the table. "We're somewhere around here," she continued, pointing past the bridge they had crossed before tapping her finger on a spot labeled as 'T.V. Station'. "If we ever get split up, this would probably be the best place to regroup. It's a good distance from the city and it shouldn't be hard to miss."
Zoey nodded. "Then to the T.V. Station we go. It's too risky to travel at night since we don't know what could be lurking in the shadows, so we'll stay here for now. We leave at first light." Neither Molly nor Clementine had any complaints, or if they did they refused to voice them. With that, Zoey set her rifle on her lap and closed her eyes, letting the darkness take over.
Suburbs, Outskirts of St. Louis, Illinois
February 18th, 0806 Local Time, 2007
The sun hovered over the horizon, the trees encompassing the neighborhood basking in its rays giving the area a soft green hue. Birds chirped unseen in the trees as if welcoming the survivors with their morning melodies. Clementine kept her head tilted down so that her hat could protect her eyes from the rising sun. Twigs, acorns, old newspapers, and broken glass crunched beneath her boots, the crumbling houses aligning the street having been overtaken by nature. If she were honest, the entire area had a strangely peaceful artistic sensation about it, something she hadn't felt in a long time.
However, as pleasant as she felt, her mind was racing between a million thoughts a second. What if the bandits were following them? What if they made their way to the station only to find nothing? What if another group was already there and killed them when they saw them? What if- Clementine's train of thought was suddenly interrupted as she felt someone pull backwards on the hood of her jacket, stopping her in her tracks.
Jerking her head up, she saw Zoey step in front of her and bring her barbed wired baseball bat down onto a walker's head that was jutting out beneath an abandoned ice cream truck. As the bat made contact with the decaying flesh, the skull seemingly exploded as blood and other viscera splattered all over Zoey's boots and the pavement.
"You ok Clem? That thing didn't get you, did it?" Molly asked in a concerned voice that Clementine knew all too well. She merely shook her head in shock as she realized just how close she had come to dying.
Deciding to not dwell much on the experience just as they had many times before, they continued their march towards the T.V. station. The street ahead seemed to stretch on for what seemed like miles. All around them were decrepit old cars that weren't worth the hassle to check for supplies considering how long the survivors at St. Louis had been living there.
The sun was starting to rise higher now, the gray sky slowly but surely shifting into its regular sky blue coloration and warming up the cool air. With just how cold it still was, Zoey wasn't going to complain about the arrival of Spring. Coming around a turn in the road, the trio came face to face with a large wooden barricade blocking the route forward. A quick scan of the barricade suggested no real way through, and it was too tall for them to try and climb, leaving going around as the only option.
Splitting up, they searched for an alternate route. Coming up to a broken window of a two story house, Zoey had an idea. "Hey Molly, give me a hand would you?" Zoey asked, shouldering her rifle and placing her hands on her hips. Molly gave her a nod before making her way over to her and getting into position to provide a leg up. Stepping onto her interwoven hands, Zoey jumped up and gripped the edge of the window. After climbing inside, she offered a hand to Clementine who had followed in her footsteps.
The room they had ended up in was surprisingly neat besides a few fallen books and splotches of dried blood staining the floor. Once their vision adjusted to the darker setting, they could clearly tell that it was a girl's room, if the pink bed sheets were anything to go by.
"We should check this place out, maybe it has something left worth taking." Clementine commented, her scavenger instincts kicking in. Just as the words left her lips, her stomach let out an annoying growl. "Or something to eat."
"In that case I'll go check the kitchen. You and Molly take a look around the other rooms. Remember, stay on your guard." Zoey stated, making sure to place a stern emphasis at the end. They knew they couldn't take too long in the endeavor if they hoped to reach the station by nightfall, but a quick stop wouldn't hurt anyone.
Zoey found the kitchen with little effort, only having to go downstairs. Starting with the cupboards, she rummaged through for any canned food as anything else would have spoiled a long time ago. Luckily whoever was last here must have left in a hurry, as she managed to collect a few cans of spam, beans, and corn, as well as an aged box of pasta. Not the healthiest stuff to have, but who gives a damn anymore. Zoey thought. Skipping over the fridge, she moved towards the pantry since any cold items left inside would be rotten by this point. Opening the door, she was quickly disappointed by its emptiness.
"Find anything?" A voice inquired from the kitchen entrance.
Spinning around, Zoey saw Molly leaning up against the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Yeah actually. Take a look."She pointed at the cans.
Picking one up, Molly's eyes went wide. "Pasta?! Holy fucking shit, good job Zoey!" She exclaimed in delight, barely able to withhold her excitement. They hadn't had much time to eat during St. Louis, and now it was starting to show. "So who's going to cook? You or me?"
"I'll do it since we can't waste time, but next time though I was thinking about letting Clementine try. She needs to learn how to cook this kind of stuff if something were to ever happen to us." Zoey explained while leaning against the countertop with crossed arms. It shouldn't be too difficult for her to pick up on. Just like eggs, you do it once and then you know it forever. "So what about you? Anything useful?"
"Nope." Molly replied, shaking her head. "Well, not unless you like shitty romance novels."
Zoey let out a snort at the sudden shift in tone. "You should've kept them, maybe you could learn a thing or two." She teased.
"Oh shut up." Molly shot back half-heartedly, resulting in Zoey laughing at the lackluster response. Molly rolled her eyes knowing the banter was all in good fun, but that didn't mean she wouldn't eventually get her revenge. "Anyway, I'll go get some firewood while you set up here. I'll be back soon."
Looks like we might be staying here for a bit after all. Zoey thought as began to prepare their meal.
While Molly and Zoey were busy searching the girl's bedroom and kitchen, Clementine went off and explored the many other rooms of the second floor of the house, starting with what she presumed to be the master bedroom. A not so intense search revealed a pistol and a few bullets hiding underneath the bed. The pistol's frame had somehow been broken meaning it was useless to Clementine, but she made sure to snatch the bullets and stored them in her backpack.
The wardrobe proved to be nothing more than a waste of time, possessing no hidden treasures besides torn clothing. Leaving the bedroom and making her way down the hall to the other side of the house, she stumbled upon a room with its door smashed. Peering inside, she saw what she could only guess to be some sort of game room with a dart board, a flipped over pool table, and an indiscernible game console.
The dart board especially caught her eye. She had seen her father play it before when he took her to a neighbor's house for barbecues, but she didn't have any interest in it back then. Now it was different, as the lack of entertainment was something that constantly plagued her mind. Maybe we can take it with us. I wonder if Molly or Zoey ever played? Clementine thought as she went over and picked up a dart. Studying it for a moment, she held it like a pencil and took aim before throwing it. The dart soared through the air for less than a second before striking the rim of the board with its tip, sticking itself into the cork material.
Clementine was mixed on how to feel about the result. On one hand she was proud that she managed to land on the board, on the other she was slightly disappointed that she was so far off from the center. With a huff, she gave the board a resolute glare before returning to the other darts and giving it another try. One by one she closed in on the bullseye, with the closest dart landing near the outer bullseye on one of the white singles. When she tried to grab another dart, her fingers brushed against the cold touch of metal. Seeing as she was out of darts, she considered her impromptu game to be a resounding success against… well, herself.
"Clementine!"
Zoey's voice echoed throughout the house, catching her attention. Stepping away from the dartboard, Clementine followed the source downstairs and into the kitchen where she saw Zoey standing over a pot of some type of boiling pasta and Molly sitting nearby. She froze for a second, her eyebrows raised at the sight as it enticed her. As if to audibly communicate the idea, her stomach let out a loud growl as it had before.
"Pasta? Hell yeah, I'm starving!" She said, instinctively licking her lips at the prospect of eating.
Glancing up at her, Zoey motioned with her head towards the table that Molly was sitting at. "Well in that case take a seat. It's just about done so…" Clementine eagerly did as she was told, and after a minute found her bowl full of steaming, mouth watering pasta. Stabbing a few pieces with her fork and shoving it into her mouth, she quickly regretted not waiting for the pasta to cool down as she let out a harsh cough.
Molly tried in vain to stifle a laugh at Clementine's misfortune. All the pre-teen could do in response was glare at her as she held her mouth open to speed up the cooling process. "S- sorry Clem, but your reaction was so priceless." Molly struggled to apologize between breaths.
Clementine couldn't help but pout at the teasing, crossing her arms as she gave Molly a disapproving look. Zoey eventually passed Clementine her canteen, giving her the chance to cool her mouth with refreshing water. Taking another bite of her pasta, they sat and ate in relative peace.
Packing up their bags with the few supplies they had found, they made their way towards the back door and walked down the set of stairs that lead back to the main street on the other side of the barricade. Clementine made sure to take the dartboard and darts with her seeing as there was enough room in her backpack, something Zoey and Molly initially refused to allow but eventually conceded on.
By now, the sun had risen high above the horizon, casting its light upon the Earth. In order to pass the time, Clementine began to hum one of the few songs she had remembered before the collapse. To others it would be nothing more than a childish tune, but to her it was memories of a better time. The station wasn't far now, maybe another hour or two walk before they got there if Clementine guessed right.
"So, do you think they're following us?" Molly asked out of the blue.
Zoey shrugged. "If they are, then they must be the slowest motherfuckers in the world." She replied nonchalantly. "Even then, if they do find and separate us, we all know what to do."
"Yeah I guess. Say, what do you think-" Molly began to ask before getting interrupted by a barking noise. Shifting their focus towards the source of the noise, the trio's eyes fell onto a dog that was staring back at them.
Clementine's breath hitched as she froze in fear for a moment, fighting the urge to back away. The memories of that one fateful day with Sam replayed in her mind as if it were yesterday. Her right hand instinctively drifted towards her pistol while her eyes turned to look at Zoey. "Zoey?" Her voice was short and timid, almost as if begging the woman to do or say something.
"Just stay behind us, it'll be ok. It's probably just scared is all." Zoey said. Her tone was soft and comforting, something Clementine desperately needed to hear. Clementine nodded and hid behind Molly. She didn't want to be scared of animals, let alone dogs, but she simply couldn't help it. It was incredibly childish of someone like her to be afraid of dogs when the undead roamed the Earth, but even then, Zoey and Molly understood her fear and were there to protect her.
They slowly approached the dog with their weapons raised should it suddenly attack. Whether they did something that scared the dog Zoey had no idea, but as they stepped closer the dog let out another bark before suddenly bolting down the street. Once the canine was out of sight, Clementine let her body relax as she let out a deep breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"See? Just a frightened dog, nothing to worry about." Zoey said, giving Clementine a reassuring smile.
Clementine gave her a still somewhat worried look. "Are you sure there's not more of them?" They couldn't let themselves continuously stop because of her, with or without dogs in their way, but the idea of the dog coming back with more and attacking them haunted her.
"Well I can't say for sure, but I think we'll be fine if there are. Come on, we should hurry before anything else gets in our way." Zoey beckoned them to continue. They couldn't stop now, not when they were so close.
As if the universe was laughing in Zoey's face, a gunshot went off and hit a car nearby. Startled, they dove for cover behind the vehicle that had caught the bullet. "You thought you could run from us bitch?!" A harsh voice shouted from the bend at the end of the street.
"Dammit, do these guys ever give up?!" Zoey frustratedly shouted, although it was drowned out by the gunfire. Peeking over the car, she caught a glimpse of where the bandits were before a flurry of bullets forced her back down. "Fuck, that was close! I think I saw four of them in the middle of the street!"
"Don't think you can hide from us cocksuckers!" One of the bandits shouted, followed by the sound of glass shattering and fire whooshing in the air. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together to figure out what had happened.
Molotov's? You've got to be kidding me! "We can't stay here, we have to move!" Zoey exclaimed.
Molly seemed to ignore Zoey as her gaze lingered on the upper window of the house nearby, her eyes lighting up as she formulated a plan. "I've got an idea. Zoey, I need you and Clem to try and keep their heads down. I'm gonna see if I can get an angle on these bastards." She racked the bolt of her sniper rifle halfway to check the ammo count. Only five shots, gotta make them count.
"We'll try, just… be careful ok?" Zoey replied with a hint of concern as she looked down at Clementine. "Alright, on three. One. Two. Three!" She shouted. Bringing their guns up over the hood of the car, they must have done something right as one of the four unlucky sonsabitches found a bullet striking him in the head, killing him and sending him sprawling backwards and sending the remaining three ducking behind other debris, breaking their line of sight.
Molly took the opportunity to run out from behind the car and vault through a hole in the wall of the house. Without skipping a beat, she rushed up the stairs to the second floor window that she had seen a minute prior. Crouching low so that none of the bandits would see her approach the opening, she set the barrel of her sniper on the window sill and took aim. Setting her sights on the bandit closest to Zoey and Clementine, she squeezed the trigger and let the bullet soar, hitting its mark in the man's chest. As the dead bandit fell, she racked the bolt back and shifted to the third bandit, repeating the process and watching as he too fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
Seeing his comrades get killed, the final bandit cursed the group out before attempting to make a run for it back down the street. It was in vain however, as Clementine quickly shot him in the back twice, sending him tumbling face first onto the concrete. As silence filled the street once more, they all let out a heavy sigh of relief. But now wasn't the time to celebrate. Those gunshots were definitely heard, and if not by more bandits, then at least walkers within a few miles.
The ringing slowly faded from their ears as Zoey's gaze turned towards Molly who was still sat up at the window. "We're ok!" She shouted. "I think the coast is clear, but we need to go. Those gunshots weren't exactly subtle."
Molly gave a silent thumbs up in response before standing and abandoning the window. Motioning for Clementine to follow her, they regrouped with Molly outside the front of the house whilst keeping their eyes out for more bandits. For the time being it seemed clear, until several muttered groans could be heard.
Shuffling out from behind a few of the houses were two, if not three dozen walkers if they had to guess. "Oh fuck…" Clementine said in disbelief, her eyes wide as she slowly began stepping back.
"Get to the station, hurry!" Zoey shouted, pushing Molly and Clementine along. Outrunning those things weren't the issue, although losing them quick enough before a horde came was an entirely different story. Sprinting down the block, the survivors ran around the bend and disappeared from sight.
All they could hope for now was that they would lose them.
T.V. Station
February 18th, 1945 Local Time, 2007
To say that Clementine was relieved to finally be somewhere safe would have been the understatement of the century. After nearly four days of dealing with murderous bandits, bridges, and walkers, she was practically done with it all. At the end of the day they were still alive, and that's what mattered.
It had taken nearly another half hour to reach the station due to avoiding the increasing number of walkers that had begun to appear on the streets. The station itself wasn't anything exquisite, though after some searching they did manage to find a few day's worth of food and some extra ammo stockpiled in one of the pantries. From the looks of it, someone, more than likely the bandits, had obviously been using this place as a shelter, but they weren't going to stick around long to find still had much to search and clear out, but for the time being they were able to take a break.
In one of the rooms, Zoey had managed to find an old wooden guitar leaning against the wall. After giving it a quick test, she had deemed it good enough to replace the guitar she had lost years ago, having been forced to burn it as fuel so that the group wouldn't freeze to death. So now here they were, gathered around a small portable stove they had found, cooking a pot of beans. Peaceful moments like these always eased the group's minds from the day's events.
Molly was in the middle of telling another one of her stories, this one being a time when she and her sister were running late for high school one time, and although Molly was a few years older, they were sharing a bedroom at the time thanks to the size of their apartment.
"- so there we were in the middle of changing in nothing but our underwear, rushing to get ready when our dad suddenly came bursting through the door and began shouting at us for waking up late and missing the bus and whatnot. God, he was so angry that I don't think he even realized what he had done. Then again, we were so terrified that we didn't dare say anything."
Zoey and Clementine laughed at the imagery of a younger Molly being scarred by an angry dad. "So, what happened after?" Zoey asked, leaning further in with growing curiosity.
Molly shrugged nonchalantly. "We got grounded for the weekend and ended up having to do a bunch of chores. Now that I think about it, it was cartoons that got us into that mess in the first place."
Zoey paused playing the guitar and looked up, raising her eyebrows at the last statement. "I've known you for years now, and yet I would have never taken you to be the kind to watch cartoons." She said, genuinely surprised.
Molly sat upright and crossed her arms. "I'll have you know, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was a great show." Molly stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
Zoey's mouth dropped. "You liked the Ninja Turtles too?! How come you never told us!" If she was surprised before, she was nearly speechless now. They had all opened up to each other a lot over the past four years, but something like this couldn't simply be passed up without further questioning.
Clementine couldn't help but to roll her eyes at the banter. Sure she liked cartoons, but she wasn't exactly a fan of the Ninja Turtles. Deciding to let the two older women discuss the new revelation, she pushed herself to her feet. "I'm gonna go take another look around and make sure we didn't miss anything."
Turning her attention away from the conversation for a moment, Zoey gave her a short nod. "Be careful, alright? We'll be here, so just shout if something happens."
Closing the door on her way out, Clementine was left alone in the expansive T.V. station. Vines hung from the rails and rotting wood of the floor above, with droplets of water trickling down every so often. From what she could tell, the damp building could easily house a community of a hundred people, if not more. Due to its sheer size, the trio had only managed to cover the first floor and roughly two thirds of the second before halting their search. She wasn't about to go off and search the remaining seven floors on her own, but the second floor would be easy enough. Puddles of water gently splashed and rippled under her boots as she walked over towards the broken escalator and up to the second level.
Opening a door to a breakroom, trash, moss, blood, sweat, and more indeterminant smells and sights hit Clementine in the face, causing her to reel back and gag for a moment. Her eyes watered at the intense smell of the room even after slamming the door shut, unable to rid herself of what her senses had just gone through in a mere five seconds. If a room looks like shit and smells like shit, then clearly nobody's been there, meaning there might be something worth wading through that shit for. Clementine thought back to a lesson Zoey had once taught her.
Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and swung the door back open. The foul stench caused her eyes to water up again, but she wiped away the tears and began to look around. Quickly skimming from one cabinet to the next, Zoey's philosophy had yet to fail her as she found a few bullets, a flare, and a handful of batteries. Running out of oxygen, she rushed towards the exit and shut the door never wishing to return to that room ever again.
Scanning the hall, all that was left was a set of rusted double doors. Making her way down the hall, she pushed the double doors open to reveal a large circular recording room. Covering a majority of the room were long tables with old computers and recording equipment. Above hung over a dozen lights on stage trusses suspended by thin steel cables. Just by the layout alone Clementine knew she was in the tower of the station the group had seen hours ago.
She was so busy checking out the area that she barely caught a wisp of movement out of the corner of her eye. Startled, she pulled out her pistol and took cover behind one of the tables in case that whatever had moved was a person. Peeking over the table, she scanned the upper room where she had seen the movement, but this time seeing none. Staying low, she silently pushed her way around the other end of the table and towards the stairs. Careful to not put much weight on each step, she held her pistol up ready to shoot.
Upon reaching the top of the steps, over a dozen multicolored cots were lined up in rows along the wall and window with some few duffle bags stuffed underneath a few of them, one of which appeared bursting at the zipper. Seeing as now wasn't the time to check them, she made a mental note to look into it after figuring out what was presumably watching her. Coming around a pillar, the sound of footsteps quickly thumping against the carpeted ground and the racking of a firearm's slide caused her to halt in her tracks.
"Drop it." A younger male voice commanded with a harsh authority. Seeing as any sudden movement would simply get her shot, Clementine did as she was told and slowly set her pistol on the ground. "The bag too." The voice then said.
Dammit, he's good. She thought as she pushed the straps over her shoulder and let the bag fall to the ground with a thud. The person holding her at gunpoint let out a satisfied 'hmph' before speaking again. "Turn around, slowly." He ordered with a strong emphasis on the final word. Rolling her eyes, Clementine slowly turned around and saw a young teenager no older than fifteen aiming a pistol at her chest from a few feet away. The teen looked her up and down and gave her a quick look of confusion, as if he was trying to think of something to say.
Clementine couldn't help but feel like she knew the teenager from somewhere, as if she had seen him before. His blue eyes, brown hair, and gentle freckles certainly felt familiar, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. To her surprise, however, the teen suddenly lowered his pistol after a few intense seconds of looking over her, his face softening and eyes looking at her like he had just seen a ghost.
"Clementine?"