Amelia and Clementine walked side-by-side down a wide path that had been cut through the forest. They were, more or less, in the same area of the woods Amelia had stumbled through the night before, frantically searching for her sister and denying the very likely possibility that she was dead.

This place felt different today, for reasons aside from the obvious.

Amelia had been trying to figure out why. It could've been the daytime. The early morning sunlight fell gently through the trees. Traces of pink and purple still lingered from the sunrise, and even the birds were quiet. It could've been Clementine, walking next to her and talking excitedly about the people they'd met, namely Luke, and Carlos' daughter Sarah. It had been a long time since Amelia had seen her smile like that, let alone get this excited.

Then she understood.

They weren't alone. Pete walked ahead of them. Nick lagged behind, having wandered off into the trees, but they knew he was close. Both were armed. Amelia was so accustomed to paranoid vigilance that she felt strange and disoriented, and she hardly recognized that it was no longer needed. She felt…relaxed knowing that she didn't need to watch the trees in every direction, that the walkers couldn't take her by surprise. Even if they did, she'd have help.

"Nick said you look nice today."

She scoffed. No he didn't.

What are you talking about…?" Amelia trailed off, watching Pete, who was too far ahead of them to hear. She checked the trees to his right, and to his left, feeling a need to watch his back the way he was watching hers.

"I mean, not exactly," Clementine shrugged. "He was talking to Pete while you were still inside. He said it was dark last night, and you were covered in…gross stuff."

"He said that in front of you?"

Clementine put her hands in her pockets and smiled mischievously. "They didn't see me."

"Duck's always blaming me for everything."

"Like what?"

"Putting a bug on his pillow."

"Did you do that?"

"…yes."

Clementine seemed determined not to let the subject change. "He said you look different today."

"Different."

"That's what he said. He probably meant nice."

"I'm sure." Amelia knew this wasn't important. But she thought of a question and couldn't resist asking. "What did Pete say to that?"

Clementine smiled again, pleased that Amelia was showing interest in her story. She frowned and tilted her head in thought. "I don't know if I should say what he said."

Amelia stopped walking, and Clem did the same. Purposeful disinterest was Amelia's defense mechanism of choice. But even she wasn't predisposed to human curiosity. She had to know.

"Just between us." She said. "Come on, you have to tell me now."

Clem threw a glance over each shoulder to make sure Pete and Nick weren't within earshot. She lowered her voice.

"Pete told Nick not to be stupid…and to, um…'keep it in his pants.'"

The two stifled a laugh; the first one they'd shared in a long time.

"You alright back there?" Pete called to them, having noticed that they'd stopped walking. Putting on a straight face, Amelia caught up to him, and Clementine followed closely behind.

"Fine, we're good. You?" Amelia said.

Pete looked between them, clearly suspicious at the lingering smiles the two were badly hiding. He briefly flashed a good-natured smile of his own before deciding to let it go, and turning around to continue their walk.

"How're you holding up, Clementine? I heard you got an earful from Rebecca last night. Once she gets going, there's no bringing her back."

Amelia looked to her sister, who obviously shared her concern. If he'd heard about their exchange last night, it must have been from Rebecca herself. With a few choice words and exaggerations, she could've given Pete the wrong idea. Was he going somewhere with this?

Pete glanced back at Clementine, and Amelia saw a gentle face and a half-smile. He didn't seem angry with them, or even wary of them. He was trying to make light of a situation that had been, and still was, uncomfortably tense. "I promise her bark is worse than her bite."

Clementine frowned, probably thinking back to last night. "What's her problem?"

"Well, she's got a lot on her mind lately." They came to a deep, wide ditch in the ground. Someone had laid a door across the gap as a makeshift bridge. Pete stepped across carefully, then stopped and turned back to watch Amelia and Clementine cross. "Bringing a baby into a world like this?"

The door creaked, loudly and slowly as Clementine crossed it. Amelia stepped on, trying to keep to its center. It creaked again.

"Careful now," Pete said. "That thing's probably been out here for ages."

"You didn't put this here?" Amelia asked, crossing quickly and stepping onto solid ground.

"We haven't been here long. Found the cabin a couple months back."

"How far are these fish traps?" Clementine asked as the three resumed walking.

"It ain't much further." Pete answered, though his mind appeared to be somewhere else. They walked in silence for a minute or two, before he stopped abruptly. Amelia and Clementine stopped too, looking at him questioningly.

"The rest of the group wouldn't like this…hell, I don't much like it myself. But I brought you out here so you could help if things went south. And having extra hands doesn't do much good unless you've got a weapon." Pete detached Amelia's climbing axe from his belt and held it out to her. "Can I trust you with this?"

Amelia noticed the steel blade was reflecting sunlight, and the rust and blood that stained its yellow handle a reddish-brown were gone; two things she hadn't seen in a while.

"You cleaned it," she said, surprised.

"That doesn't answer my question."

She nodded, reaching for it a little too quickly. "Yeah, of course-"

Pete pulled it away, out of her reach. "Amelia." She recognized the grave, paternal tone of his voice. "Am I going to regret this?"

Amelia realized he was trying to make her understand the risk he was taking; that the group didn't take arming strangers lightly and neither should she, being the stranger.

She shook her head and sincerely told him, "No."

"Alright then." Pete gripped it beneath the blade and held it out to her handle-first.

Holding the axe felt familiar, in the best possible way. She'd felt naked when she had to leave it behind, suddenly without something she held and used every day. Muscle memory kicked in as she tested its weight in one hand, then the other. Irrational as it seemed, she'd grown attached to the thing.

That wouldn't stop her from giving it back, should she ever get the chance.

You won't. She's most likely dead, like everyone else.

"You had that thing awhile?" Pete interrupted her train of thought, and she was grateful he did. He resumed walking toward the river, and Amelia and Clementine fell into step behind him.

"Yeah. A long time."

"Anyone teach you girls to shoot?" he asked. "By that I mean taught proper. Any idiot with a finger can shoot."

Clementine answered with a smile. "Amelia taught me."

Pete smiled in return, then looked to Amelia. "And who taught you? Don't mean to offend you, but you must have learned from someone, being from the city. City girls don't know how to hold a gun, let alone how to shoot."

Amelia nodded. "Fair enough." It was true. Before the world fell apart, she'd never touched a gun in her life. They used to scare the hell out of her, to be honest. But circumstances changed, and she had to change in response.

"First, don't be afraid of it. It's just a thing."

"A thing that kills people."

"You can't learn if you're only doing it halfway. You either do it or you don't, kid."

"Our friend taught her." Clementine said carefully when Amelia didn't volunteer an answer. "Her name was Carley."

"Glad someone did." Pete nodded. "It's important nowadays."

"We never learned with a rifle, though." Clementine said.

"May be for the best." Pete glanced down at the rifle he was carrying. "This thing would knock you on your ass." He looked at Amelia. "You too, probably."

"I think I could handle it," Amelia found herself smiling. Truthfully, she had no idea if she'd be able to fire that rifle and stay on her feet. She'd never shot anything larger than a handgun, and the kick was still enough to make her palms hurt.

"I'll have to show you then," Pete smiled back at her. "The recoil can be a real horse-kick, but who knows? You could do alright."

"When can I learn?" Clementine asked.

Amelia tried to shoot her a look, one she ignored. Unless Pete's answer was "before dinner," it wasn't going to happen. But Clementine believed what she wanted to.

Pete chuckled. "Not for a while, Clementine. You know, Nick was about your age the first time I took him hunting. Came across this beautiful thirteen-point buck just standing there on the ridgeline."

Amelia didn't care much to hear about Nick. She didn't care much for him. He'd gone off the path a way's back, and frankly she'd been hoping he'd gone back to the cabin. But Clementine was listening intently, and she knew why. Amelia had never been good at telling stories.

"The boy takes the rifle, he lines up the shot just like I taught him…" Pete demonstrated by lifting his own rifle, eyeing an imaginary buck in its crosshairs. "…and then I hear him start whining." He lowered the gun and looked down at Clementine, altering his voice to do an accurately whining impression of Nick. "He turns to me and he says, 'I can't do it. I can't shoot it, Uncle Pete. Please don't make me shoot it.'"

"Really?" Clementine grinned. "No way."

"Hey!" Nick called from the distance, jogging to catch up and slowing to a stop in front of them. "Why didn't you wait?"

Amelia noted that the walk had been nice, while it lasted.

It wasn't his moody aggressiveness she didn't like so much as his incompetence with a gun. According to Clementine, he'd been the first to believe she was bitten and his itchy trigger finger almost killed her before they had a chance to figure it out. Accident or not, Amelia held him to the same rules as everyone else. She didn't forget her own mistakes. She wouldn't forget his.

"You want us standing around while you piss on a tree?" Pete answered without humor in his words. "You know where the river is, boy."

Amelia didn't like the way he held his rifle, finger on the trigger and barely paying attention to where it was pointing. She nudged Clementine to stand on her other side, so that Amelia stood between her and the barrel of Nick's gun, should it go off.

Pete seemed to notice this. Nick didn't.

Pete continued walking and addressed Clementine, who stepped around Amelia to walk next to him while he talked. Amelia followed them, staying in front of Nick to avoid eye contact. The two had already exchanged several dirty looks that morning and she didn't feel the need for any more.

"Anyway, so I grab the gun out of his hand before the big buck runs off, when bang. The gun fires. Boy nearly gut-shot me. And of course the buck gets away."

"What are you going and telling them this shit for?" Nick snapped.

Pete stopped and turned quickly, giving an answer he obviously had ready. "Because you almost blew Clementine's face off yesterday. Seems relevant. Trying to let her know it's nothing personal with you."

"Why are you always giving me a hard time?"

"Because you're always giving everyone else a hard time!"

Amelia was pleased to see someone calling him out. But Nick surprised her by saying,

"I apologized already. She accepted."

Clementine jumped in. "He did. Really, it's okay."

Amelia disagreed.

Pete seemed as surprised as she was. "Alright, well I didn't know that."

Amelia wasn't ready to be as forgiving as her sister. "You think that fixes it?"

"Who asked you?"

Amelia felt a quick pulse of anger surge through her. She turned to face him, squaring her shoulders and closing the small gap of space between them.

"Alright, that's enough." Pete pulled her back with a hand on her shoulder. Agreeing that breaking this up was for the best, Amelia turned away.

Nick saw the climbing axe in her hand when she turned. "You gave her a weapon?"

"Yes, Nick, I did." Pete was clearly losing patience. "Not everyone here is a danger to the group with a weapon in their hands."

"You think you can trust her?"

"It's an axe. We've got guns. If you're still afraid of her-"

"I didn't say I'm afraid!" Nick snapped at Pete, pointing an accusatory finger at Amelia. "We shouldn't give weapons to people we can't trust."

"Well, it wasn't your call to make, son." Pete said dismissively.

"Stop calling me son!" Nick said. "You're trying to get us all killed."

Amelia glared at him; there was no trace of humor in her voice. "Must be. He lets you carry a gun."

"Fuck you."

"Original."

Clementine interjected, looking worried. "Guys, stop fighting-"

"I ain't telling you again. Knock it off!" Pete raised his voice, something Amelia guessed didn't happen often, but could quiet a room when it did. "This ain't the time or the place. I'd tell you to take it back to the cabin, but frankly I don't want to hear it there, either. So this conversation is over. I don't want to hear either of you speak another word to each other until we get back. Understand?"

"Why are you taking the middle on this?" Nick asked sharply. "You're supposed to be on our side."

"There are no sides, Nick! The day you grow up and figure that out is the day your life becomes a hell of a lot easier." Pete waved a hand toward Amelia and Clementine. "These two ain't our enemies. They might be, if you keep on like this." He turned back to the path, muttering to himself. "Two grown adults acting like children. Y'all are gonna make me put you in separate rooms when we get back..."

"Whatever. You know I have to tell Carlos about this." The tone of his voice said it wasn't something he wanted to do.

"While you're at it, ask Luke about how to talk to girls without cursing them out."

For a second, Nick's eyes widened in shock and anger. He looked briefly to Amelia before focusing again on Pete. "You're always trying to embarrass me!"

"You're doing a good enough job of that on your own!"

Nick had apparently had enough. He passed his uncle, roughly knocking into his shoulder before walking ahead down the path.

"Leaving us again?"

"I know where the fucking river is." The path opened up to a clearing, and Amelia could see water on the other side. Nick disappeared over a hill that sloped down into the riverbank.

No one spoke in the silence that followed. Pete sighed, shaking his head in exhaustion.

"Im sorry." Amelia said, finally. "I didn't mean to make things worse."

"If it ain't you, it's something else." Pete said, shaking his head. "It's always something else."

Clementine hesitated to ask, "Can I hear the rest of the story?"

Amelia was about to interject, thinking that wasn't a good idea. But Pete seemed to appreciate the distraction. He even smiled. "Of course. I found that buck later that season. Shot it right in the neck. I brought it up to my sister's, thinking she'd want to freeze some of the meat. Nick didn't speak to me for weeks."

Pete looked out to the clearing in the trees. Nick was nowhere to be seen.

"Sometimes you gotta play a role…even if it means the people you love hate you for it."

"He doesn't hate you," Clementine said. "You should see me and Amelia fight."

Pete shook his head again. "Nick's father wasn't there much, and he was a piece of shit when he was. So it fell to me to keep him in line. Raise him right. Meant I couldn't just be nice Uncle Pete."

Amelia was unmoved. Nick's dad was a loser. Hers was dead. So was everyone else's by now. Everyone had been through plenty since the outbreak. It didn't make him special. She walked ahead of the group to follow Nick, having decided she wanted to empty the fish traps and get back to the cabin. They wouldn't stay long after that.

"Uncle Pete!"

The terror and panic in his voice was an unwelcome familiarity. Amelia sprinted over the hillside, knowing that if he'd run into walkers and he was as bad a shot as his uncle said he was, he'd already be bitten or dead.

Amelia stopped abruptly when she caught up to him, scanning the clearing for upright figures and finding none. Pete wasn't far behind.

"Nick…?" he said, followed closely by Clementine. His voice trailed off, and he froze the same way Nick and Amelia had, realizing the horror of the scene in front of him just as slowly as they had.

To call it massacre would've been a severe understatement. Amelia counted seven bodies from where she stood, knowing what she could see probably wasn't all there was. They were scattered around the river, some on the bank, some face-down in the water. All of them were bent and laying in unnatural positions, broken and tangled in a mess of blood and dirt. She could see bullet wounds in the heads of those closest to her.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" Pete said quietly.

Nick didn't speak. Amelia glanced sideways and saw his hands shaking despite his white-knuckled grip on his rifle. She looked out that the bodies and didn't know what to say. God, there were so many...

Pete stepped forward, approaching the nearest corpse and poking it in the shoulder with the barrel of his rifle. "Fulla holes."

"Who do you think did this?" Clementine asked. Her voice was suddenly quiet, as if she thought the person who did this was hiding nearby, listening. For all they knew, that could've been true.

Nick didn't answer, but Amelia heard him draw in a short breath before he lowered his gun. She stole a glance up at his face, and saw pity, and disappointment, and anger…

Nick caught her staring, and she didn't bother to pretend she hadn't been. He scowled at her. He might've had something cutting to say. But he was smart enough to know it wasn't worth saying. Not now.

"Not sure yet." Pete said. "But it ain't your average gang of thugs, that much I know."

"Did you know these people?" Amelia purposely directed her question to him.

"Think about it." Nick addressed his uncle, ignoring Amelia. "You're Carver, what do you do?"

Amelia was about to ask when Clementine beat her to it. "Who's Carver?"

She looked between Pete and Nick, and neither of them answered. They exchanged a glance that made her uneasy.

Whatever this was, it was very, very bad.

Pete nodded at Nick, telling him, "Check those guys there. Be careful. Some of them might still be moving."

"Where are you going?" Nick demanded. "We need to get the fuck out of here!"

Pete didn't slow down. "Gotta check the rest."

"What? Why?!"

Pete ignored his protests as he started wading knee-deep through the water to get the other bank. "Calm down and think about it son."

"Calm down?" Nick snapped. "We gotta get out of here, now!"

"Jesus Christ, kid, get ahold of yourself." Pete stopped on the other side and turned around.

"We should leave." Amelia said. That much, she knew. She and Clementine stayed alive by avoiding conflict. That meant avoiding people. Living or otherwise, they were always a sign of trouble. "Whatever you're hoping to find isn't worth it. We need to go."

"What if someone's alive, Amelia?" Clementine asked.

Nick answered harshly, "Who cares?"

Amelia glared at him. That wasn't what she meant.

"What?" he said. "We don't have time to worry about them."

Amelia shook her head, conflicted. Once again, her sister had backed her into a corner. More than once, she'd been in a bad situation and was saved only by the kindness of strangers. She could've named three people, at the drop of a hat, who'd saved her life when they didn't have to.

Carley. Omid. Molly. She would have died a long time ago if it weren't for the choices they made. It occurred to her that she never really deserved the things they did for her. She found herself thinking that most days.

Do something for someone else. One time.

Amelia stepped around Nick and jumped onto a large flat rock in the middle of the water. She cleared the other side and joined Pete, motioning for Clementine to do the same.

Left alone, Nick said,

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"If someone's alive, they might be inclined to tell us who did this. We gotta do this now." Pete said. Amelia could hear his growing impatience with Nick as he instructed, "Stay here. Keep searching the bodies."

"This is a dumb idea," Nick said. Contrary to his usual manner, he wasn't dismissive or moody. Like Amelia, he was worried. Nervous and pleading for Pete to listen to him.

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

"What?" he said defensively. "That you're an asshole?"

"That nobody in this world is ever gonna give a goddamn whether you like something or not. You gotta grow up, son."

Nick looked hurt, before replacing his expression with a scowl. He walked off into the mess of bodies, mumbling,

"Whatever."

Pete didn't waste any time. "Come on, Clem." He used her sister's nickname; Amelia noticed, and didn't dislike it. "You want to be useful, keep a lookout on that tree-line. Whoever did this might still be out there. Waitin' for another sucker to stumble across this mess."

"I'm on it." Clementine answered.

"Are you always so agreeable?"

Clem crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "No."

"Good. You'll fit right in with this outfit. Just keep your head on straight, both of you."

Amelia nodded toward the trees, where she could see several more mangled bodies. "Clem and I will check over there."

"No." Pete said, turning to her. "Look, Amelia, you might not like it, but…" He looked out across the river – Amelia followed his line of sight to Nick on the other side, whose back was turned as he inspected one of the bodies.

She looked back to Pete and said dryly, "You want me to babysit."

"That's the idea." Pete said, somewhat apologetic. "I'll rest easier knowing someone is watching his back. I'll keep an eye on Clementine."

"I don't need to be watched," Clementine said. She'd reminded Amelia of this many times before.

"Is that so?" Amelia spoke before she realized who she sounded like. Once she did, it was too late to take it back – the smirk on Clementine's face made that clear.

"I'd appreciate you doing this." Pete said. "And I'd be sure to let the group know."

Amelia looked over her shoulder at Nick, who was moving to another body. Pete seemed to think she wanted to earn the trust of a group that she didn't trust herself. More than that, he seemed to think she and Clementine planned on staying. But she knew what it was like to have loved ones in this world, and that was enough.

She turned back to him. "Tell me about Carver first."

Pete seemed prepared for the question. "Not now. When we all get back safe."

"He did this, didn't he?"

"We don't know that for sure."

"Is he the type to do something like this?"

The look that crossed Pete's face told her yes – but then again, she already knew the answer was yes, just like Pete already knew who was behind this. She thought back to how quickly Nick had come up with Carver's name. They knew. And Amelia knew that if this was the person looking for them, then this group was in more trouble than she was prepared to deal with. She glanced down at Clementine, who was watching them carefully. Amelia wasn't about to drag her into the middle of another mess. If Pete's group was about to become the next pile of bodies, she and Clementine would be far away when it happened.

"Look, I know what has to happen here." Pete said.

"You're going to leave." Amelia said, thinking "run" would have been a better word.

"Soon as we get back. We'll talk about the two of you coming with us. But we need to make sure there are no survivors here."

Amelia decided that was fair enough. She turned to Clementine.

"Don't step near the face unless you know it's brain dead, understand?"

"I know," Clementine reminded her, mildly annoyed.

"Good." With another glance toward Pete, which he answered with a nod, Amelia turned back to cross the river again, making her way toward Nick.

He was prodding a corpse with the barrel of his gun when Amelia caught up to him. He looked at her over his shoulder, but otherwise barely acknowledged her.

He moved from one body to the next, and Amelia crouched to search the pockets of the one closest to her.

She didn't find much, and wasn't surprised. No one carried ID anymore. She would have been shocked if she'd found money.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nick snapped from behind her. "Look at its head. You trying to get bit?"

Amelia realized he was right – the head was intact. The corpse hadn't come back, but there she was, rifling through his pockets when she hadn't bothered to check for a head wound. She kicked herself, not for putting herself in danger but for being careless. She didn't need to worry about getting bitten, ever again. But no one else knew that, and she wanted to keep it that way.

She picked up her axe and put a hole in the corpse's head. She went back to searching him and found a lighter in the lining of his jacket. She flicked it, and found that it still worked.

"What are you really doing here?" Nick asked her suddenly. She stood and turned around to see him watching her. He didn't look or sound like he was trying to start another fight. His words were accusatory, but his voice was low. Tired and only trying to understand.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you're working for him…" Nick paused, unsure of whether to finish with a threat. "If you're with him, now is your chance to leave. Take the kid and go. Our group won't follow you." Amelia raised an eyebrow, confused. "I'm just saying, if you are, things will get a lot worse if you're with us when we find out."

Amelia didn't feel like giving any answers until she got at least one. "Why would he be sending people after you?"

"You didn't answer-"

"The answer is no. We're not with anyone." Amelia said bluntly. "Why is he chasing you?" She looked out at the bodies scattered across the riverbank. "Is this what he's going to do to you when he finds you?"

Nick hesitated. "You don't need to know that."

"The hell I don't." she said pointedly. "Come on."

Nick didn't answer. He looked away, maybe irritated, maybe guilty.

Amelia sighed, trying to stay patient. But patience demanded time, something her sense of unease told her they didn't have. "Look, Pete wouldn't tell me anything about him, so do me a favor?"

"I don't need to do you any favors." Nick scoffed, turning to walk in the other direction, toward the bodies they hadn't checked yet. When his back was turned, he muttered, "Not that you'd notice."

"What?" Amelia couldn't make out what he'd said, and started to follow after him. She looked over her shoulder, keeping an eye on Pete and Clementine to make sure she and Nick didn't stray too far from them.

"It's not your problem." Nick said dismissively over his shoulder. "If you're not coming with us, you don't need to know."

Amelia didn't answer. She and Clementine had to leave. They needed to stay far away from this. But she'd have been lying to herself if she said she didn't like the safety of numbers. She couldn't truthfully say she didn't miss having people to talk to. Life was easier with friends.

"Are you…coming with us?" Nick asked.

She got the sense the question wasn't rhetorical. She tried to think of an answer, but-

Pete screamed from across the river, and the sound struck Amelia cold with fear.

She whirled and, frantically searching the riverbank for Clementine, watched Pete fire into a walker on the ground. A moment ago it'd had its hands on Pete's foot and its teeth in his ankle.

For a few seconds, Amelia froze, unsure of what she was seeing. But the bite was there, clear as day.

"Uncle Pete!" Nick called across the water.

"I'm fine!" Pete shouted back too quickly, before Nick had finished. "I'm fine, I just…I just lost my footing…"

What happened next was a sequence of events that went by like a blur. If asked, Amelia wouldn't have been able to retell it with any accuracy. It all happened at once.

Amelia had barely opened her mouth to call out, "Clemen-" when Nick shouted over her.

"Shit! Lurkers!" He began firing blindly at a group of walkers that had come out of the trees, missing, wasting ammunition.

Amelia drew her axe and spotted Clementine on the rock in the center of the river, looking back and forth between them and Pete.

No.

Backing up alongside Nick, Amelia knew what her sister was thinking. Clementine had seen that Pete was bitten. That wouldn't do much to change her decision.

"I'm outta ammo!" Pete yelled from the other side of the river, aiming his rifle at one, two that had come out of the forest.

Nick fired again, and again, drowning out his own words with his gunfire. "Come this way!"

Amelia shouted and knew she still wouldn't be heard. "Clementine, over here-"

"Dammit, you get your asses over here! All of you!"

"I'll cover you!" shouted Nick, firing more rounds into the walkers in front of him – Amelia guessed there were six or seven – and only killing two. Soon he would run out. He should've held his fire and let her put some of them down-

"We've got to get out of here!" Nick yelled.

"Get over here, goddamn it!"

"Clementine!" Amelia called in desperation, already knowing she wasn't going to listen. Clementine only looked back to Pete, panicked and unsure of what to do.

Pete has fewer walkers to kill but he has no weapon there could be more in the trees Nick is surrounded and wasting ammo Pete's been bitten Clementine isn't coming

"Come on!" Pete shouted for them. "I see a way out!"

They were getting closer. Slowly, slowly, coming to kill them all. Amelia put the axe blade into the head of the closest one, then another.

"Can you listen to me?! Just this once?!"

"Clementine, come this way, please!" You can't help him. Soon she and Nick would be surrounded, and no one would be able to help them, either.

Amelia felt a hand close around her arm just above the elbow. She panicked, thinking it was a walker that had gotten behind her but found it was Nick, pulling her into the forest.

She yanked her arm out of his grip. Not without her sister. Not again.

"Clementine!" she turned back to see the walkers closing in and blocking her view of the river. Between their decaying bodies she saw Clementine run back to Pete, hurriedly helping him up. The two ran into the forest. In the opposite direction, getting farther away by the second.

"Come on!" Nick said, grabbing her again and pushing her toward the trees. He turned back briefly to fire three more helpless rounds into the horde, then followed behind her.

No no no no no no no no not again…

Somewhere behind her, Nick screamed. Amelia came to a skidding stop and doubled back. Nick was on the ground; a walker had fallen on him and he was keeping it away from his neck by holding it at the wrists. Amelia took a running start and kicked it in the chin, snapping its neck and shattering its jaw. It didn't die, but it fell limp. Nick pushed it away, picked up his gun, and scrambled to his feet.

The two ran, outrunning the mob behind them but running into more coming out of the trees ahead of them. The walkers were coming from all directions, and there were far too many to fight.

"We need to hide." Amelia said, her breath ragged and painful.

Nick had barely enough in him to say, "I know where to go." He made a sharp turn and took off deeper into the woods. With no other options, Amelia followed him.

She wondered if there were as many walkers in the woods Clementine and Pete had run into. She hoped that there were none, and that all the walkers in the forest were behind her and Nick.

When they came up to the shack, Amelia recognized it. She'd passed it in her search for Clementine the night before. She'd known it was here, but was too panicked to think of it. But Nick knew. He even knew how to get them there.

Amelia tried not to think about it. She didn't need any reminders that having a group would keep her alive.

Nick threw the doors open. She expected him to run inside, but he pressed his back against the door to hold it open and fired on the walkers again, apparently waiting for her.

"Come on!"

She ran inside and looked for something to block the door with. She got behind a large, empty wooden shelf by the door and braced herself against it. Nick kicked the door shut and immediately began helping her push until it crashed down onto its side.

The walkers scratched at the door, moaning, growling, rotting. The overturned shelf prevented them from pushing the inward-swinging doors open more than a crack. It rattled and shook, banging against the shelf, but it wouldn't let anything in. They were safe.

Amelia dropped to her knees and cried.