"How's my big brave boy?" Lifting Omid out of his crib, Clementine discovered big was hardly an exaggeration anymore. "Did all those loud noises scare you?"

"Ah-mah-duh-buh, Kem-men," babbled the toddler, sounding distressed.

"It's okay," assured the girl as she cradled the boy in her arms, gently stroking his head through his curly dark hair. "Don't worry, we're far away from those loud noises now."

"Doh-bree-kem-men," said Omid, sounding no more reassured.

"I know, I know, but we have to talk to these people we found," said Clem as she set Omid back in the crib. "It'll just be for a little while, and then I'll be right back."

"Doh-bree-kem-men," repeated the boy as he looked up at the girl with his sad brown eyes.

"I know but… here," said Clem as she found the photo she had given Omid earlier lying in the crib. "This way, I can watch you when I'm not here." Clem grabbed some scotch tape from the cupboard and used it to stick the photo to the top of Omid's crib, making sure the image faced the boy. "Is that better?"

Omid looked at the photo, then looked at Clem, then back at the photo. He seemed less upset now, but still not content.

"Don't worry, if anything is wrong, we'll be right there." Clem switched on the baby monitor in Omid's crib, then took one last look at the boy. There was an almost quiet sense of resignation on his face as Clem backed out of the bedroom, as if he was expecting her to go. She always hated leaving Omid alone but there were other things that needed her attention right now, like the old man and his grandson staring at her from their couch.

"So… there's a baby in there?" asked Sin, as if he didn't believe what he was saying.

"Yeah," shrugged Clem as she headed for the fridge.

"Whose baby is it?" asked Sin.

"His parents are dead," informed Clem in a sad voice as she opened the fridge. "So we're taking care of him now."

"Isn't that hard?" Clem looked over to see Jet staring at her expectedly.

"Yeah," she said, surprised to hear the boy ask her that. "It's pretty hard."

"How old is he?" asked Jet.

"About ten and half months," said Clem as she removed her raincoat from the fridge.

"And you've been taking care of him this whole time?" asked Jet.

"Yeah, me and Sarah," said Clem as she slipped her raincoat on.

"Why do you wear that?" asked Sin.

"They keep us safe from walkers," said Clem.

"Walkers?"

"The dead people who keep walking," said Clem as she pulled her raincoat down.

"How?" asked Sin.

"It's covered in stuff from their bodies, so we smell like them," informed Clem. "If we smell like them, they don't smell us, and they don't hurt us as long as we're quiet."

"Really?" asked Jet in surprise.

"That doesn't make sense," said Sin. "How do those things even have a sense of smell?"

"Trust me man, it works," said Patty as she slowed the RV to a stop. "Just one of many things we can talk about in a minute." Clem looked out the windshield to see they were pulling into a rest stop. Passing them on the right were small wooden gazebos with concrete benches underneath, while on the left was a bunch of flags on poles Clem mostly didn't recognize. Just past the flags was a massive sculpture in the shape of a star. It was twice as tall as the Brave and hollow, like a giant cookie cutter.

"All right, me and Anthony will go check this place out real quick." Patty's words were followed by the familiar squeak of the Brave's parking brake. Looking out the window, Clem could see they were in front of a large covered ramp leading up to a small building with big windows. Written on the front of the wooden roof leading over the ramp were the words 'Texas Travel Information Center'. "If everything looks good we can stop in there for a while and talk."

"Why not talk here?" asked a nervous Sin.

"The girls are a little anxious about having people they don't know in their home," said Patty as she took hold of her shotgun. "Be right back."

Everyone watched as Patty stepped out and silence filled the area after she left. Clem and Sarah found themselves awkwardly staring at Jet and Sin, who were looking at both girls as if they were predators waiting to strike.

"Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you." Sarah's words seemed to do little to ease the pair's minds.

"Wuh…" Clem and Sarah looked at Jet, which just made the boy more nervous. "Why… why does having people in here make you anxious?"

Sarah and Clem exchanged glances before turning back to the boy. "This is our home," said Clem. "Everything important to us is in here, including each other. So, it feels weird when there's someone in here we don't know."

"Oh…" Jet turned away from the pair. "Well, thanks for letting me use your bathroom then."

"You're welcome." More silence followed Sarah's words as the pair appeared no more assured now than a minute ago. Jet in particular looked frightened, with his quivering eyes glued to the floor, as if he was afraid to even look at Clementine and Sarah. Studying him closer, Clem noticed his spindly arms desperately clutching a small black bag.

"What's that?" asked Clem as she gestured to it.

"Huh?" said Jet.

"Your bag, what's in it?"

"The bag? It's just—"

"All clear," reported Patty over the girl's radios. "Go ahead and bring our guests inside."

"Got it." Clem put the radio down and looked at Sin and Jet, who were even more frightened than before. She wasn't sure what to say them, fearing any instructions from her might sound like an order. But Sin stood up without being asked, taking Jet with him as they headed for the door.

Clem and Sarah followed them out, Sarah stopping to lock the RV's door once outside. The older girl double checked the baby monitor to make sure it was working, then clipped it to her belt. Patty had parked the Brave right in front of the ramp leading up to the building. Marching with the others, Clem looked aside to find only trees decorating the yard in front of the building, and a single yellow sign that read 'WATCH OUT FOR SNAKES'.

The interior of the building was nothing remarkable, being little more than a dimly lit gift shop that had long been abandoned. There were several big windows lining the walls that allowed the waning daylight in, and a series of small dusty tables between the front door and the now empty counters and kiosks sitting in the back of the room. The entire area seemed to project a sense of weary emptiness, and even the group's footsteps sounded hollow as they moved across the area.

Anthony appeared to be guarding a sliding glass door opposite of the entrance, his baseball bat still tightly clutched in his hands. Peering through the glass door, Clem saw there was a bridge leading out to what looked like a swamp. The girl could only imagine that's where the snakes would be if there were any to find here. Suddenly, there was a horrible scratching sound echoing through the room. Turning her head, Clem watched as Patty pulled a couple of chairs up to one of the nearest tables.

"Sarah, you mind watching the road for us?" asked Patty.

"Sure," said Sarah as she moved to the window closest to the entrance.

"You're sure this place is safe?" asked Sin as she stepped forward slowly.

"It looks cleaned out, and I don't see any signs that there's been anywhere here recently, living or otherwise," said Patty as she checked the counters in the back of the area. "There's nothing else around for miles, and a travel center is low down the list of places I would choose to stay at if I had a choice; should be safe enough to talk for a little while."

"I still don't even know who you people are," said Sin.

"Hey, you said you'd tell us whatever we wanted to know, remember?" barked Anthony. "So who we are isn't really important right—"

"Knock it off Anthony," said Patty as she moved back to the table. "Look man, we're just people trying to survive, that's all. I'm Patty, the jackass is Anthony, and you already met Sarah and Clementine," explained the woman as she sat down. "We're not going to hurt you or your grandson, but we would desperately like to know what the hell is going on in this part of the country. I'm sorry if we came off kind of… aggressive when we first saw you, but you got nothing to fear from us, really."

"It's just, you've given those children guns…" Sin trailed off as he placed a hand on Jet's shoulder. "It's… concerning."

"They already had those when I met them," said Patty as she eyed Sarah and Clem. "They actually taught me a few things about how to use guns."

"Really?" asked Jet in disbelief.

"And yet they won't give me a gun," added Anthony.

"Is that just what it's like out there?" asked Sin, ignoring Anthony. "Even children have guns now?"

"It's terrible out there," said Sarah in a quiet voice. "We're always afraid of what's going to happen."

"And we have guns because it's dangerous," added Clem. "We don't like having them, and I wish we didn't need them, but we do. If we didn't, we probably wouldn't have been able to save you earlier."

Sin looked down at Jet, and then the pair moved to the chairs across from Patty while Clem took a seat next to the woman.

"So what do you want to know?" asked a weary Sin as he took off his glasses.

"Well let's start with that fire we just saw," said Patty. "What the hell happened? You mentioned something about a refinery?"

"I warned them we couldn't keep operating under these conditions," Sin said to himself as he rubbed his forehead.

"Operating? Wait, are you saying you were running a refinery?" asked a perplexed Patty.

"Don't you need a lot of people to do something like that?" asked Sarah.

"What did you need a refinery for?" asked Clem.

"And again, who the hell are they?" added Anthony.

Sin sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Maybe I should just start from the beginning," he said before putting his glasses back on. "My name is Taksin Wattana; I oversaw refining operations in Houston before the outbreak."

"Where we used to live," added Jet in a sad voice.

"About two months after the military established martial law in Houston, I was selected to oversee the refining operations in Port Arthur after the previous supervisor there suffered an accident."

"Port Arthur?" asked Patty.

"A small city, about ninety miles east of Houston, and about fifteen miles from where we met," explained Sin. "I was told the refineries there were easier to keep secure than the ones in the Houston area."

"Wait, hold up," said Anthony. "While people were coming back from the dead and eating the ones who were still alive, the fucking military gave you a job looking over some refinery? What the fuck for?"

"To keep it running," said Sin plainly.

"Doing what?" asked Patty.

"Refining crude oil." Patty, Anthony, Clem and Sarah all just stared at Sin in disbelief. "What else would it be doing?"

"It's just… we've been wandering across a wasteland for a couple of months now, and every city we've seen is either empty or full of the dead," said Patty. "You make it sound like things are… normal in Houston."

"They aren't," said Jet in a quiet voice. "Not anymore."

"They weren't before either," insisted Sin. "Everything was restricted under martial law; food, water, travel, electricity."

"Electricity?" repeated Sarah in disbelief.

"No fuckin' way," spoke Anthony in a whisper.

"You have electricity in Houston?" asked a shocked Clem.

"Rarely," said Sin.

"They used to turn on the power for neighborhoods during the weekends," said Jet. "Then it was only on Saturday, then every other Saturday, then for just a few hours, and then it was just whenever they felt like it…"

"But still, you had electricity?" asked Patty again. "Because in Miami, the power went out a week in and it stayed out."

"I'm sorry to hear that. One of the things we made at the refineries was petroleum coke to make up for coal shortages; it was probably what let us keep the lights on, if only in limited quantities."

"Wait, you're losing me, coke?"

"Coal dust, or the closest thing to we could make from crude oil."

"Where the hell were you getting oil during a fucking apocalypse?" asked Anthony in an irate tone.

"The military seized as many oil wells in Eastern Texas as they could when they established martial law," explained Sin. "What they brought was only a fraction of what we used to process at where I worked in Houston, but still—"

Everyone jumped as a loud crashing echoed across the room. Clem and Patty drew their weapons on the sound, only to find themselves aiming at a dented trash can rolling across the floor. Tracing the path of strewed garbage with their eyes, the pair saw a fuming Anthony glaring at Sin, his hands tightly wrapped around his aluminum bat.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," growled the young man. "The whole fucking world goes to shit, and what does the military do? They go protect some oil wells in Texas!"

"Anthony, calm down," said Patty.

"Like hell I'm calming down," said the young man as he marched towards Sin, prompting Jet to move away from the table suddenly. "How many troops it take to keep a city as big as Houston under control? How many men were guarding those damn oil wells?"

"Anthony!" said Patty as she stepped in front of the young man. "This isn't helping!"

"Oh like he is!" yelled Anthony as he pointed his bat in Sin's direction.

"He's not too blame for this!" argued Patty.

"No, he was just living in luxury while we were out there living on scraps, waiting to get torn apart!"

"There was nothing luxurious about the way we lived," stated Sin in a stern tone as he stood up. "And we just didn't refine things to run the power plant, we were making the fuel that powered the military's rescue operations!"

"Rescue operations?" Anthony laughed out loud at Sin's comments as Patty held him back. "Is that what you think they were doing? There ain't no rescue operation!"

"Just because they didn't find you, doesn't mean—"

"It's been over a year!" retorted an infuriated Anthony. "I ain't ever met anyone who had even seen the military before I met her," said Anthony as he pointed at Patty.

"It wasn't just for rescue, we were also refueling other safe zones." Sin turned to Patty. "You said you lived in Miami; you were probably getting shipments from our refinery."

"Oh is that so?" said Anthony as he took a step back. "Patty, that sound right to you?"

"I… I don't remember ever getting shipments of anything in Miami," said the woman.

"It'd probably be by water," said Sin. "We loaded fuel into ships at Port Arthur on a regular basis."

"Well I don't think any of it ever came to Miami," said Patty. "We didn't have much to do under martial law but talk, and no one ever mentioned seeing a ship arriving in Miami after the outbreak. And the troops there were constantly siphoning off gas stations to keep their own vehicles gassed up."

"Then they were going to other cities," reasoned Sin. "New Orleans or—"

"New Orleans is gone!"

Sin's stoic expression cracked upon hearing that. "What do you mean by gone?"

"I mean gone," repeated Anthony. "Just a big fucking ghost town."

"I… I don't believe you," said Sin.

"Oh it's true, hell, she took a picture of it!" Anthony gestured to Sarah.

"Did… did you?" Sin asked Sarah.

"Um yeah, I did."

"Could I see it?" he asked, desperation dripping in his voice.

"Um, sure, let me just go get it." Sarah picked up her rifle and headed for the door.

"Be careful," Clem told Sarah.

"I will." The older girl briefly poked her head out the door, then ran outside.

"Guess you don't know everything, huh old man?" taunted Anthony.

"I'm not going to stand here and take this from you," retorted Sin as he moved towards Anthony.

"Granddad don't," warned Jet as he tugged on Sin's jacket.

"No, let him," insisted Anthony.

"Just sit the fuck down already!" ordered Patty.

"Oh is that what I should do?"

"Yes!" yelled an irate Clem. "You're making everything worse, just stop!"

Patty shoved Anthony back a couple of steps and the young man threw up his hands in surrender. "Unfuckingbelievable. Fucker tells them they were leaving us all to die and they want me to sit down," he mumbled as he retreated to his corner by the back door. Clem noticed Jet appeared upset now, clinging his bag tightly while looking down at the floor.

"It's okay," assured Clem as she slowly approached the boy. "Don't be afraid, he's just… mad."

"Did you really never see the Army?" asked Jet in a whisper. "Or anyone else that would help you?"

"Not from the military," confirmed Clem.

"Then how did you stay alive?"

"Other people helped me and taught me things," said Clem. "And I was lucky a lot of the time too."

"That's it?" asked Jet, visibly disturbed by Clementine's answer. Seeing the boy almost trembling now, she wanted to say something else to put his mind at ease, but found herself distracted by the sound of a door opening. Everyone looked over to see Sarah walking across the room, a photo album clutched in her hands.

"Sorry I took so long," said the older girl. "Omid needed changing and I couldn't just leave him until he settled down," she explained as she set the album on the table. Everyone but Anthony moved in close as she opened the book, flipping past the pages until stopping on a familiar photo.

"Here, I took this on a bridge when we were in New Orleans," said Sarah as she pointed at one of the pictures.

"This," said Sin as he placed his finger on a large orange ship sitting in the middle of the river. "I remember seeing ships like that, they were going to New Orleans."

"Maybe once upon a time," said Anthony from across the room. "There isn't anything there now but a bunch of empty buildings and boats."

"When were you there?" asked Sin.

"Less than a week ago," reported Clem.

"We had sent a shipment of fuel just three weeks ago," said Sin. "They evacuated a whole city in just under two weeks?"

"Actually, I don't think anyone has been there for at least a month," said Clem.

"No, that can't be right," refuted Sin.

"We met a couple of soldiers who said they had been there over a month," informed Patty. "They acted like we were the first people they had seen since getting to New Orleans."

"So, then there were troops left in New Orleans when you were there?"

"No, these two had come from somewhere else," said Patty.

"Saint Louis," reminded Clem.

"Right, they said they hadn't see anyone or any shipment of anything the whole time they were there."

"And where are they now?"

Patty grimaced upon hearing that question and turned away from Sin.

"They tried to kill us," informed Anthony.

"Why?" asked Sin, a trace of suspicion in his voice.

"They were scared," informed Clem in a saddened tone. "And… people do bad things when they're scared."

"And that's the only time we've seen anyone in the military," added Patty with a sigh.

"Me and Clem met a woman who said she was in the National Guard," added Sarah. "But that was back in September, and she said she lost contact with everyone right after things got bad."

"But you said there were troops in Miami," reminded Sin.

"Were; they're gone now," said Patty. "Left us around Mid-October, and I have no idea where they went. We checked some other cities like Mobile and Baton Rouge, and they were just as empty as New Orleans. It's just one ghost town after another; whatever they were planning before, they're long gone now."

"And I don't remember anyone in Gulf Port ever seeing hide nor hair of the military or these shipments you're talking about," added Anthony.

"They had to be going somewhere," insisted an irate Sin. "We weren't just shipping fuel, I saw them loading food and provisions onto ships as well, things they'd scavenge outside the city, day after day, it had to be going somewhere!"

"Well if it was, we don't know where it was," said Patty.

"We were hoping there was somewhere safe out west," added Clem with a shrug.

"So you… you haven't been anywhere that's safe?" stuttered Jet.

"Not run by the military," said Patty.

"Run by who then?" asked Sin.

"Between the four of us, we've been to a few places run by some very shitty people," said Patty.

"And we wouldn't want to go back to any of them," assured Sarah.

"You might be safe from walkers, but not from the people living there," warned Clem with a shudder.

Sin and Jet briefly exchanged disappointed looks with each other before turning back to the group.

"So what about Houston?" asked an eager Sarah. "You said something happened at Port Arthur, but if that was ninety miles away, then—"

"There was an… incident, in Houston," said Sin.

"What kind of incident?" asked Anthony.

"A disastrous one," reported Sin with a sigh. "About a week ago, there was a major attack."

"An attack?" asked Patty.

"What, the military couldn't keep you safe?" said Anthony.

"There's been many incidents since martial law was enacted; gangs causing trouble inside the city, small groups of people attacking supply convoys outside of it; there were tons of issues when the troops in Dallas relocated to Houston back in the spring. But this… this was something else entirely. I didn't see much myself, but Jet—"

"There with an explosion," said the boy. "And then another, and then a bunch more, and there were so many and they were so loud, I just… I just thought I was going to die. But I didn't. Things were quiet for a little while, but then I saw these big armored cars driving past our house.

"They weren't the same ones I saw the soldiers drive, and the people driving were wearing different uniforms too. I couldn't see where they were going, but I could hear lots of shooting, and sometimes screaming, and then I'd hear them driving past again, and then it would start all over again, and I was so scared.

"But that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was when I heard all these loud thumping noises. They were like thunder, but there was a bunch of them, and they happened really fast and then… there was fire everywhere," spoke the boy in a hushed voice, trembling as he did so. "The windows all broke and the ground shook and I couldn't hear anything but I… I could feel it, right outside, the heat… our whole neighborhood was on fire."

"I was meeting with some of the military leaders at the time," said Sin said with a hint of regret. "I didn't even know what happened until a patrol brought Jet back to me."

"I just started running, and just kept running, and then there was suddenly people aiming guns at me and…" Clem watched as the boy's bag slipped from his grip and crumbled onto the floor. "I thought they were going to kill me…"

"Luckily it was just a patrol investigating the attack," said Sin. "After they brought him back to me, we were both escorted to Port Arthur; they said they could protect us better there than in Houston."

"That's horrible," spoke Sarah in a heartfelt tone.

Clem quietly got out of her seat and picked up the bag Jet dropped. She returned it to its owner, who could only quietly grasp the object as it was passed into his arms. "I'm so sorry," whispered Clementine before returning to her seat.

"Jesus Christ…" said Patty. "It… there's a war in Houston right now?"

"None of the troops would tell us much of what happened," said Sin. "But from everything I've gathered: yes there is."

"A war with who?" asked Anthony, baffled instead of angry now.

"I was hoping you could tell me," said Sin. "The military doesn't tell us anything; everything I know are things I overheard. We already spent most of the last few months in Port Arthur even before the latest attack, but—"

"Latest?" asked Sarah. "This happened before?"

"Never on this scale, or not that I know of," said Sin. "But I've heard people talk about similar attacks on the outskirts of town from some kind of well armed forces for a while now."

"Yeah, but who?" repeated Anthony.

"No one knows, or anyone who does wouldn't tell me," said Sin. "There were plenty of rumors though: A gang of bandits who stole military gear, cartels crossing over from Mexico, maybe even the Mexican Army itself."

"What about the American Army?" asked Patty.

"What? That doesn't make sense, why would they attack themselves?"

"Maybe they weren't," said Patty. "What kind of troops were in Houston? Army? Navy?"

"Well, I think most of the patrols in Houston are Marines," said Sin. "I've been to enough of their meetings to recognize their logo. But what does that matter?"

"It matters because I heard rumors in Miami too," said Patty. "One of them was that the different branches of the military were working against each other now."

"That's preposterous," said Sin.

"I thought so too, but in Mobile, we found what was left of a battle between Navy and Army troops," informed Patty.

"You're sure?" asked a skeptical Sin.

"Pretty sure," said Clem. "We found vehicles, uniforms, even graves, and the only Navy stuff mixed in with Army stuff was an arm in a Navy uniform run over by a tank that said 'Army' on it."

"I know it sounds crazy, but—"

"No, it's not crazy…" realized Sin. "I distinctly remember some of the soldiers I'd met with talking about division of labor and… the ones at Port Arthur weren't Marines, they had different uniforms, and the troops bringing the crude oil had different uniforms from them."

"I only saw Army in Miami, and they bitched about being stationed in a city that was a 'low priority' more than once," added Patty. "I also heard them bitch about the other branches all the time."

"I think the troops bringing the oil were Army actually, I remember the Marines I'd meet with complaining about them sometimes when our oil deliveries were down," said Sin. "You mentioned seeing what was left of a battle between the Army and the Navy; I remember during one of the dock deliveries I oversaw, the men delivering goods got into an argument with the ones manning the ship.

"It started with one of them saying 'It must be nice to stay safe on the water why we do all the dying.' I didn't hear everything after that, but someone threw a box and then there was a lot of yelling until they finally aimed their guns at each other. They eventually just left, but for a moment, I was afraid they were going to kill each other."

"Assholes in uniforms don't like assholes in different uniforms," noted Anthony. "Big fucking surprise."

"So it sounded like the Navy was handling the Gulf, the Army got the lousy jobs, and the Marines got Houston?" guessed Patty.

"When I first took over as supervisor, I heard them talking about reinforcing their positions in New York City and Los Angeles," informed Sin. "But they stopped mentioning them shortly after that."

"Was that when they started having patrols on every street?" asked Jet.

"Yeah, I think it was."

"Maybe they needed all the Marines just for Houston?" suggested Jet. "They cut back on how much food we would get each week at around the same time."

"You're right…" realized Sin. "There was a big troop build-up then."

"I guess oil was more important than everyone in the biggest cities in the country," commented Anthony. "Sounds about right."

"Still, what the hell did they need the oil for?" asked Patty. "It couldn't have all been for New Orleans, seeing as it was already abandoned and you were still making shipments."

"Those soldiers we met, the ones who said they were from Saints Louis, said they were sending all their food down the river," added Clem. "And they said they were going to starve if they stayed there."

"From the bits and pieces I overheard, I assumed New Orleans was the heart of the military's operations in the region," said Sin. "But if the city has been evacuated for over a month, where the hell were our shipments going?"

"Did you ever see anyone who was in the Air Force?" Patty asked Sin.

"Not that I know of," said Sin.

"There was a rumor floating around Miami that they were taking over Cuba," said Patty. "But I think that's something people just made up after we saw all those planes fly over a couple of weeks into martial law."

"Planes…" Everyone turned to Sarah. "When did you say this attack in Houston happened?"

"About a week ago," repeated Sin.

"About a week or a week?"

"What does that matter?"

"Because a week ago some planes flew over New Orleans, going west." Sin went wide-eyed hearing about that. "That's why we are here, we were hoping they were going somewhere safe, but after what Jet said, about hearing thunder and then everything was on fire, maybe they were…"

A cold hush fell over the room for a few seconds.

"It was a week ago…" confirmed Jet in a quiet voice.

"Well I guess that accounts for the Air Force," mumbled Anthony.

"And the planes," added a saddened Sarah.

"They were never going anywhere safe," realized a despondent Clem.

"That… that can't be," stuttered Sin. "Why would they bomb Houston?"

"You said you were being attacked," reminded Patty. "Maybe—"

"It was a neighborhood!" refuted Sin. "The coal plant, the refineries, even the building where I went for the weekly meetings with the military, none of them were even close to our house! Whoever those people were, there was nothing near them worth fucking carpet bombing us for!"

"Exactly, nothing they wanted was there," said Anthony in a matter of fact voice. "So who cares if they kill some nobodies like your grandson to take out the people attacking them."

"They told me the people attacking were responsible for what wiped out our neighborhood," said Sin, making no attempt to hide his resentment. "They said the people attacking us were the ones who almost killed Jet."

"The ones I saw only had cars," spoke a reluctant Jet. "What happened after… it was a hundred times louder than when those people first showed up. And afterwards, they were gone, and the whole neighborhood was just one really big fire… everywhere."

"Maybe the Air Force really did take over Cuba," pondered Patty. "Maybe they're hold up there while everyone else gathers stuff for them on the mainland?"

"I doesn't matter," Clem mumbled to herself.

"That would make sense actually," said Sin. "We were making jet fuel as well as gasoline and coke. They… they were probably using fuel from my refinery for the planes that nearly killed you!" realized a sickened Sin as he looked at Jet.

"So does that mean the Marines are still with the Air Force?" asked Sarah. "I mean, maybe they weren't lying to you, maybe they didn't know either?"

"A likely fucking story," scoffed Anthony.

"No, it might be like that," argued Patty. "Like I said, no one every told the Army in Miami jack shit from what I could tell."

"I doesn't matter," said Clem a little louder.

"But then who are the people who attacked Houston?" asked Sin, ignoring Clem. "Until now, I assumed they were gangs or cartels like I had heard. If there's been some kind of mass mutiny or civil war in the armed forces, these attackers could conceivably take over Houston."

"Against bombers?" asked Anthony. "I doubt that."

"Bombers that might level the city in the fighting," retorted Sin.

"Maybe it's both, maybe the Army or whoever teamed up with cartels or something," said Patty with a shrug.

"Or the Mexican Army," said Sin. "I remember one of the higher ranking troops say they 'lost' Corpus Christi sometime near the end of the summer. I didn't think much about it at the time, but that's about halfway between Houston and the Mexican border."

"Maybe it's just the Mexicans then?" suggested Anthony. "Maybe Mexico is at war with the US? I mean if Houston was still producing oil then who's to say they ain't got their shit together, and thought it'd be an easy score?"

"It could be another Latin American country moving through Mexico," suggested Sin. "Maybe even a coalition of—"

"It doesn't matter!" shouted Clem as she pounded her fists on the table, finally bringing the room's attention to her. "None of that matters because it all means the same thing; there isn't anywhere safe here… or anywhere."

A tense silent followed Clem's proclamation, along with a creeping sense of doom that seemed to spread across the room until everyone appeared too depressed to speak. They all sat there quietly for what felt like several minutes before a distorted crying cut through the quiet.

"It's Omid," realized Sarah as she removed the baby monitor from her belt. "I'd better go and check on him." The older girl poked her head outside, then hurried back to the RV, leaving the group in the dimly lit room.

"We should all go," suggested Sin.

"Go where?" shrugged a downcast Patty. "There's nothing the way we came, and you just told us it's utter hell the way you came."

"Actually, he never told us about what happened where he just came from," realized Anthony. "You said this place, Port Arthur, was ninety miles from Houston. What happened there that you came racing towards us?"

"I told you what happened," said Sin. "The refinery there went up in flames."

"Yeah, but how?" asked Anthony.

"Did planes bomb it too?" asked a half-interested Patty.

"I don't think so," said Sin. "Even at reduced output, we were pushing the equipment harder than we should have. Under normal conditions we would have shut down for maintenance months ago, but the quotas the military kept giving us wouldn't allow it. Then this afternoon, one of them just finally went up in smoke."

"That sounds about right for the military," said Anthony. "Just work through the pain, until the fucking pain kills you then, oh shit, we don't have a plan after that. I guess it's better than getting bombed, but then I doubt even they would bomb something they wanted to keep."

"They probably wouldn't…" said Sin in a thoughtful voice. "But whoever is attacking us would."

"What?" asked Patty.

"If whoever was attacking wanted to drive the military out of Houston, destroying what they were there for would be an excellent start," said Sin. "One of the distillers exploding could have been an accident, but two more went up right after that. And the following explosions seemed to fast to be caused by the fire, even with a lack of containment. I was so afraid for my life at the time I didn't even think about it, but sabotage would be a more likely explanation for what happened earlier today."

"It is?" asked a horrified Jet. "But… how? How could they do that?"

"Things have been chaotic since the attack last week, there's been a lot of abrupt changes in how we do things," said Sin. "Someone could have slipped in during the chaos, came at night when there are less people on patrol, or maybe there was a spy. We have to replace laborers so often even I can't keep up with everyone."

"Jesus," said Patty. "We… we really need to get out of here then. I mean, if there's actual war on just down the road, we don't want to be near it."

"My thoughts exactly," said Sin.

"But you just said there's nowhere to go," reminded Jet.

"We'll figure that out later," said Sin. "Right now—"

"We should go back to Houston," blurted out Jet. "There's still lots of soldiers there and—"

"They can't guarantee our safety anymore," finished Jet. "The only reason we were still living there."

"But you said they needed you—"

"To run a refinery that's currently burning down, one we barely escaped from," finished Sin. "Which is only because the person running it before me died and I took their place. They probably think we're already dead; we nearly were just driving out of there the wrong way, and then again when I crashed. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't already pick one of the people working under me as a replacement, assuming they even plan to keep any of the refineries open after today."

"But—"

"And even if we didn't end up in the slums because I was still somehow needed by the people currently holding the city, that means nothing if it's overthrown," said Sin. "We need to go."

"Do we?" asked Anthony. "None of us have any particular stake in this fight. For all we know, whoever is attacking are better than the people who bombed their own city in response. And whichever side wins will need some new hands to rebuild crap. What if we just waited to see who wins and then join up with them?"

"There's been attacks for months now, this was just the latest and most deadly," reminded Sin. "Who knows how long we would be waiting for the conflict to end, or what would be left when it was over."

"Not to mention, we could end up dead in the crossfire," said Patty. "We found an entire arena full of people burned to a crisp just outside where the Navy and Army were squaring off."

"And most of them had come back as walkers," added a saddened Clem. "And all they could do was scream."

"That's not even considering the ongoing growing ecological disaster at Port Arthur. All that smoke and all those chemicals going up into the sky will be affected by winds, which could scatter them anywhere in the area, and then there's the possibility of being bombed again," said Sin. "I'm sorry Jet, but we can't go back to Houston."

"But what about Mom and Dad?" asked Jet. "If they ever make it back to Houston then—"

"Your mother is a smart woman, she would know I wouldn't keep you somewhere like that if it wasn't safe," reasoned Sin. "She'd know we wouldn't stay in Houston under these circumstances."

"But she wouldn't know where we went," retorted Jet. "We need to go back to the house."

"Jet…"

"We can leave a message or something and—"

"Our house is gone, you said yourself you had to run because the fire spread to it after the attack," reminded Sin.

"We could bury something in the yard, she'd know—"

"We're done discussing this," dictated Sin.

"Why?" pleaded Jet. "You don't know if things will be bad. Maybe they'll stop whoever's attacking, and there's another refinery they'll want you to work at, and—"

"We're not going back to Houston!" declared Sin. "We were lucky to get away with our lives this time, I'm not risking them again for a lost cause."

"But… but…"

"That's final!"

Jet covered his eyes, trying to hide the fact he was crying. Clem wanted to say something to comfort him, but she couldn't think of anything. Neither could anyone else it seemed, as the group sat there in silence while listening to Jet try to choke back his sobs. Sin however just stood there, a stern look on his face that was devoid of any regrets. Jet's crying finally stopped when the door swung open.

"Did I miss anything?" asked Sarah as she stepped back into the room.

"Not really," said Clem in a glum voice.

"We were just talking about how we're stuck between a rock and a hard place," added Patty.

"How have you people survived all this time?" Sin asked Patty.

"We move around, find food and fuel where we can, then keep moving. We had hoped we were onto something when we heard about planes, but…"

"What if I told you I think I know somewhere there might be safety?" asked Sin.

"Where?" asked Anthony.

"If I told you where, would you be willing to take me and my grandson there?" said Sin.

"Tell us and we'll think about it," retorted Anthony.

"If I told you, there'd be nothing to stop you from just leaving us."

"We wouldn't do that," assured Clem.

"But still, how can we take you somewhere if we don't know where it is?" asked Patty. "I mean for all you know, we've already been there and it was a bust."

Sin rubbed his head as he pondered Patty's question for a moment. "How far north have you been from here?"

"Um, not far," guessed Patty.

"We've mostly been following the coast since we left Florida," answered Sarah. "Probably the furthest north we've been since then was Hattiesburg."

"Hattiesburg?" asked Sin.

"It's in Mississippi, about—"

"No that's not it," said Sin.

"It never is," added Anthony.

"If you help me and my grandson to survive, teach us how to be fend off those… things, I'll tell you where we might find some relative safety."

"That seems like an awful lot from us for what could just be a bogus tip from you," said Anthony.

"We'd help in whatever ways we could. And, if you really wouldn't just leave us behind, would this not be the best arrangement?" proposed Sin. "If you helped us just enough so we could take care of ourselves on the road, we wouldn't have to be a burden to you. I could tell you where I think we should go, and if you don't want to go there, we could just go our separate ways then."

"How sure are you this place is safe?" asked Clem.

"I'm not," admitted Sin frankly. "But if New Orleans isn't an option, this would be my next choice."

"Wait, you want to go to—" Sin glared at Jet, which caused him to clam up before revealing the location.

"We wouldn't be the first people who went there," said Sin as he turned away from his grandson. "This rumor had been passed around Houston a lot, enough where less fortunate people were already risking their lives on it."

"Great, another damn rumor—and a second choice rumor at that," said Anthony. "What makes this one any different?"

"From what I overheard in Houston, this city broke ranks from the rest of the military," said Sin. "Shared power with citizens instead of enforcing martial law, didn't turn people away approaching them, refused to send away their supplies. Maybe they found out what was happening, refused to support whoever is in Cuba or wherever they're hiding."

"Or maybe that's all bullshit meant to lure suckers into a trap?" suggested Anthony.

"Maybe, but what are our alternatives? Where did you plan on going?" Sin's question was met only with silence. "Am I to take that as you don't have any other plans?"

"One of the bigger towns we checked on our way here today has to have a car lot somewhere," reasoned Patty. "We could backtrack there and I could fix up an RV for you and your grandson. After that we could show you how we get around until you get the hang of it."

"If you could do that, I would tell you where I plan to go," said Sin.

"Everybody else cool with that?" asked Patty.

"Yeah." Looking around, Clem saw Sarah nodding while Anthony just shrugged, as if he didn't really care.

"Deal?" asked Patty as she extended her hand.

"Deal," said Sin as he shook the woman's hand. "Now, I assume we can leave and—"

"Wait," said Jet as Sin stood up. "What about everyone else in Houston? And Port Arthur?"

"We've already discussed this, we—"

"We can't live there, but shouldn't we warn them or something?" asked the boy. "We're just going to leave them all and they won't know they can't go to New Orleans, or that there's a way to get past the sick people?"

"What would you have me do?" asked an irritated Sin. "You want me to drive into a possible war zone, or worse yet, the raging inferno we barely drove out of to tell anyone I see to what? Stay out of New Orleans?"

"I… I don't—"

"We're lucky to be alive ourselves, we need—"

"We're alive because of them," blurted out Jet as he gestured to the others. "We should do like they did and—"

"Do any of you feel like going to Houston?" Sin suddenly asked the group. "A major city loaded with platoons of well-armed soldiers who have orders to not let in outsiders. A city with thousands of desperate and hungry people. A city that my be under siege by an unknown enemy at this very moment, and might be bombed in response?

"Do you want to risk everything you have and your very lives being taken by some enterprising criminal who sees your vehicle as a means of escaping what's now an active war zone, just to give them a warning? Do you want to drive through minefields just to get to a wall where you may be shot on sight?"

"Minefields?" asked Patty.

"Another 'rumor' I've overheard is the military mined all the major roads leading into Houston," reported Sin.

"That can't be true, we—"

"Had to follow a military escort every time we drove between Houston and Port Arthur," Sin said to Jet. "And I always wondered why they seemed to take such a long and convoluted route until I heard that 'rumor'. I know I don't want to risk everything just to go back to a city where we're dependent on diminishing resources we don't control while being trapped between two different heavily armed forces in conflict with each other," said Sin as he glared at Jet. "But what say all of you? Do you want to go to Houston? See for yourself what it was like?" Dead silence followed Sin's question.

Deep down, Clem wanted to tell the man yes; yes she wanted to go and help others in Houston. But everything he had just said felt like massive weights being dropped on top of her, burying her in place; the military, the people, minefields, bombings, war, uncertainty, all of it felt like some great beast constricting the girl, paralyzing her with fear so that she dare not speak up. That same fear seemed to loom over Patty and Sarah as well, their faces hiding a quiet regret behind otherwise frightened eyes.

"I didn't think so," said Sin in a quieter voice as he turned to Jet. "We need to stay alive, that's all we can do. There's nothing we can do for the people back in Houston."

"There's something we do." Everyone turned to Clem. "It's not much, but it'd be more than nothing."

Clem wasn't entirely sure of her decision, but with encouragement from Sarah, Patty and even Jet, the argument was settled and the group were heading back the way they came. Clem went with Patty and Anthony, who drove them back to the water tower they had used to observe the area earlier.

"Keep and eye out," said Patty as she headed stepped out of the truck.

"For the record, I think the old guy is right," said Anthony as he parked himself on the hood of his vehicle. "This is stupid. Just because no one else has come this way doesn't mean that won't change any minute now."

"We're doing this," insisted Clem as she moved past Anthony. "It's the very least we can do."

Clem followed Patty up the ladder, finding it no easier to scale than the first time. Reaching the top, Clem moved over to the woman, who was unloading something from her backpack. "Ready partner?" she said as she offered Clem a can of spray paint.

"Ready."

The pair moved around the edge of the reservoir until they found themselves facing the overpass the Brave was parked on. Confident this spot could be seen from the highway, they turned around and started shaking up their cans. It took the pair a long time to finish painting their message. They had to make the letters as big as possible so people could see it from the road, and there were a lot of letters to write.

It was getting dark now, and anytime the pair heard an explosion in the distance they stopped to survey for danger. There only heard two the entire time they were on top of the water tower, and they much quieter than before, but each time was still nerve-wracking. Looking out towards the southwest, the smoke had grown bigger and more ominous, blackening a lot of the horizon. Clem could occasionally spot the light of towering flames shining through the creeping darkness overtaking the land.

The pair worked as quickly as they could to finish and then hurried back down the water tower. They rode with Anthony back up to the overpass, and stepping out of his vehicle, they got their first chance to see their work from a distance. The bright red letters stood out against the white metal of the water tower, and they could read the message clearly from the overpass:

DEAD DON'T EAT DEAD

SMELL LIKE THE DEAD

"You think they'll know what it means?" Clem asked Patty.

"I think that's as about as clear as we can make it in under ten words," shrugged Patty. "We really don't have the time or space to print out detailed explanations, not in giant letters on the side of a water tower anyway."

"Lee covered me in guts right after we noticed a walker didn't bite him when it had the chance," recalled Clem. "If we saw this first, I think we probably could have figured it out… I hope."

"Maybe this will give some of them a fighting chance," reasoned Patty. "The atlas says this is the biggest interstate between Houston and New Orleans; hopefully people we see it as they drive by."

"It's better than nothing," shrugged Clem, thinking this single gesture still felt like too little.

"We'll leave it anywhere else that's easy to spot from the big roads, along with updating any road signs we spot along the way," said Patty. "Help steer people away from New Orleans and anywhere else we know that's a goner."

"We should have been doing this the whole time," realized Clem.

"None of us ever thought we'd be stewards of the apocalypse," said Patty. "I always found it more comforting to think there were people smarter than me taking care of all this, but maybe that's because I didn't want to think about being responsible for other people's lives myself."

"I remember Christa not wanting us to take care of OJ because she thought it would be too much for us," said Clem in a quiet voice. "He's not even a year old yet…"

"Man, thousands of people," said Patty as she looked to the west. "It's just a fraction of what was there, but it sounds like so many now; I can't even picture it."

"Me neither," realized Clem as her mind refused to form of image of so many people at once.

"I didn't say anything before but… part of me does want to see Houston," admitted Patty. "The part of me that thinks that, despite everything Sin told us, it'd be okay somehow, that with that many people together, they'd have to work something out. Maybe even us going there and telling them about how to get past the dead would change things for the better."

Patty looked out on the horizon, prompting Clem to do the same. She could just barely see faint hints of dying sunlight being swallowed up by the thick clouds of dark smoke far in the distance. "But then I remembered what it was like in Miami, watching our rations shrink week after week, knowing it was all falling apart, and just waiting for it to finally happen, and that was without a war on top of everything. Even if we got into Houston, we'd probably just be stuck waiting for it all to inevitably fall apart again."

"Yeah," said Clem in a quiet voice. "Probably…"

"Come on," yelled Anthony from his truck. "You guys might enjoy admiring your work, but I'd like to leave before anyone else shows up."

"Right." Patty and Clem returned to the Brave and shed their raincoats. The woman took a seat next to Sarah, who drove them back east. Clem took a seat across from the couch, where she saw Jet anxiously staring at her.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem in as calm a voice as she could.

"Will it?" asked the boy as he looked into Clementine's eyes.

"I… I hope so."