Three Orphan Pilgrimage (The Alternative to the Final Season)

by J. Gray Dingler

A story about three kids on a post-apocalyptic road trip, and the sequel to Young and Young at Heart. Their reprieve from a world torn apart by the dead coming to a close, a ten-year-old girl and her best friend set out on a journey to find a place to call home for not only themselves but also for the baby boy that they promised to take care of. [Art:Albaharu. Some M-Rated Content]

102. In Another Time

Clementine shivered as she sat in the dirt, staring at the water, thinking about how much she used to hate it every time Omid would bring fish back to the cabin. For that first winter at the cabin, it was all they would have to eat sometimes, and Clem hated it. Hated the smell, hated the taste, even hated the sight of fish for a long time. Now she hated it even more she had to constantly wait out in the cold to catch the damn things herself every day.

But they had no choice, they had nothing else to eat anymore. No more canned goods well past their sell-by dates. No more packs of freeze-dried ice cream or fruit they had been saving for a special occasion. Nothing but what they could find, which was nothing. What little Sarah could search of Vernal before they left proved fruitless, and even with Jet's guide showing them pictures of edible plants Clem didn't have the energy left to hike into the nearest forest in hopes there was a couple of gross mushrooms yet to be claimed by the frigid winter; fish was all they had.

Tightening her grip, Clem groaned as the pain in her left hand got worse. She had tried holding it with the right hand once, but then she couldn't work the reel with what was left of her other hand and lost them a precious meal. She never realized how much her ring finger and pinky made it easier to get a grip on something until they were gone. Without them, it felt like she had to constantly pinch at things to grasp them.

Just brushing her teeth was a hassle now. She'd have to pinch the tube since without her other fingers she couldn't just grip it in the palm of her hand while using her thumb to force the paste out. Instead, she had to maintain a tight hold on the tube with her two remaining fingers and barely had any leverage when she used her thumb to squeeze out the paste. The alternative was using her toothbrush in her injured hand, but she wasn't used to using her left hand to brush her teeth, and she kept dropping it because she didn't have a good grip, and it hurt her hand, which always hurt.

It hurt when she picked things up, it hurt when she didn't pick things up, it hurt when she woke up, and it hurt when she went to bed. They had a limited amount of painkillers so Clem saved one for bed every night along with a xanax so she could at least sleep in peace. Even then, she could still feel the pain. The pills numbed it to where it was hardly noticeable, but she did still notice it, that dull throbbing that served as a constant reminder of the pain that would return in full the moment she woke up.

It was also a constant reminder of how Vernal had humbled Clem. After Tulsa, it felt like it was only a matter of time before the walkers died out and that at very least people would outlive them. They were slow, they were stupid, and they didn't adapt. But they also don't need to eat, never tire, and never give up. Now Clem realized even with all the progress they had made, it was very likely it was all too late to overcome the dead after the living had so repeatedly sabotaged themselves.

It was a horrible thought that rooted itself her mind after her most recent near-death experience. One that festered in the morning after when they ended up spending the entire day in Vernal simply because they were too tired and sore to even think of leaving. They just spent all day in bed, their stomachs grumbling because there was nothing left to eat. They couldn't even entertain the idea of playing with Omid since they were fearful any noise would attract the small herd of walkers still roaming through town.

The morning after that, Sarah managed to retrieve their bikes and her rifle, but that was it. She didn't find any food in the houses she stopped to check or even the faintest clue to what happened to Simon's people. Growing weaker and more tired with every passing minute, they both agreed they had to leave immediately before the weather took another turn for the worse and condemned them to slowly waste away until they too were just more three walkers in a herd.

There was nothing back east for them, west would take them to Salt Lake City, which they feared was infested with walkers, and they had no idea what was south. But they managed to find the sign from before that mentioned a power plant, and it pointed north, so that's where they were going, and Clem held out a shred of hope that Simon's people were there. It was a slim hope at best and one they couldn't even communicate to Omid, who would do nothing but cry when removed from the bed.

Eventually, he cried himself out and Clem managed to resettle him in her bike seat. Getting back on the road was hard, harder than Clem expected. It had gotten colder and Clem could only pray it wouldn't snow, or rain. And even after resting, they were both incredibly sore in addition to being hungrier than Clem ever remembered being. At very least, their bikes were quiet and it allowed them to get out of town without drawing more attention from walkers. In retrospect, it was also probably what allowed them to get so deep into town in the first place.

They only managed to pedal a measly fifteen miles or so before they both agreed they needed somewhere to stop. They settled on a campground near a lake, part of a state park according to the signs. After that, Clem took turns with Sarah catching fish for the rest of the day. They managed to catch five before nightfall, none of which were very big. They cooked and ate every one of them though, and they were still hungry afterwards. Omid just kept make whimpering noises to indicate he wanted more, and they couldn't do anything but listen to him since they had no food left to give him.

The next morning they hurried north with renewed desperation. They couldn't survive on fish alone and even if they could, it wasn't a life any of them wanted. The pain it caused her to cling to one of her handlebars was a new source of misery as Clem pushed her already bruised body harder in the slim hope of seeing another sunrise. Any time they stopped, Sarah would use her radio to call for help, on every channel, twice; no response of yet.

They did eventually find it the power plant, which was Flaming Gorge Dam. It appeared intact or at least the dam itself hadn't ruptured, but there was no sign of anyone having been here recently. They explored the visitor's center, tossed the few stray vehicles in the parking lot, and Clem even dared to enter the dam's massive complex. She discovered that some of the doors inside had been forced open, but that was it. No sign of who had done it, or how long ago they had been here. Just another abandoned building with no purpose anymore.

After that, they didn't know what to do anymore. They had no destination nor could they go back the way they came. They just went west the next day and wound up staying in a ghost town named Manila. They found a sign pointing to Interstate Eighty, so the next morning they headed north. Along the way, they rode past a sign saying they were in Wyoming again, and as if to make the point the scenery morphed from picturesque canyons into a barren desert in just a few miles. The day after that they found a decent-sized town called Green River that ran right by Interstate Eighty.

Clem spent the entire afternoon pedaling up and down it, desperate to find a sign from the others. Patty could have survived somehow, and even if she didn't Jet must have; they didn't shoot him when they had the chance and he didn't have a gun like Clem had. And if Anthony had killed Devlin, he wouldn't have been so desperate to leave Tulsa behind, where they could be found. It had been months, surely one of them had made it this far as well.

But if they had there was no sign of them to be found, not at least Clem could find. In the end, she was so desperate for any sign of hope that she salvaged a can of spray paint and marked the biggest sign on the interstate herself. 'CERES' she wrote, but she didn't circle any of the letters because she didn't know where they were going. Clem had little hope the others would just come along any day now, but the real problem was she couldn't think of any other way she and Sarah would survive much longer.

They hadn't once discussed where to go next since settling here a few days ago, probably because they're both afraid of the other's answer. It was just agreed they'd simply recuperate for now by salvaging food from town and getting fish out of the river. There was no food to salvage, none that Clem could find, which meant all she could do is fish and hope that she'd catch enough to eat to make it through to tomorrow.

Sitting there in the dirt, cold, hunger, and in pain, staring at the water wistfully, Clem couldn't help noticing her own reflection. It didn't even feel like she was looking at herself anymore. Her face looked different, thinner and paler than she ever remembered it being and she could see herself shivering from the cold. She hadn't looked in a mirror in a long time so seeing that scar under eye again unnerved her. She also hated how her hair had been cut right down to the scalp. More than anything, she missed her hat.

Part of her just wanted to cover her hair because she hated how it looked. The rest of her wished she never threw it away in the first place. She'd tell herself it was dumb, that a hat doesn't matter right now, but then the rest of her would yell back if it didn't matter then why didn't she just keep it? Even if she couldn't wear it with her mask she could have just left it in her backpack since it weighed practically nothing. If she still had it, maybe she could bear to look at herself right now.

Clem just looked over at her floater instead, desperate for a bite. She hadn't searched the entire town but after tossing four restaurants, two gas stations and a grocery store produced nothing to eat, Clem decided to not waste any more time; she had little left to spare at this point. At very least there had been no recent signs of walkers, which was good because Clem couldn't even approach the occasional corpse anymore without trembling in fright it'd get up and finish what the others started in Vernal.

It was then Clem noticed her floater was twitching. She gritted her teeth as she tightened her grip on the rod, her hand burning in agony as she did so. On top of the pain, Clem was terrified her hand wasn't healing right and she was going to get an infection. When Sarah changed her bandages the evening after it happened, Clem had to turn away when she saw the twitching little stumps caked in blood, dried and fresh.

She always kept a glove on her left hand so she didn't have to see the injury, and just turned away before Sarah took it off every night to change the bandage. Clem felt bad knowing Sarah had to look at it to dress her injury, but Clem just couldn't bear it. She never asked Sarah if it looked like it was getting better, and Sarah never volunteered an opinion. If there was something wrong, there was nothing either of them could do about it.

The floater was pulled underwater and Clem started spinning the reel. Beyond the horrible throbbing in her hand, her whole body ached a little as she struggled against her catch. They had eaten nothing beyond a handful of fish these last few days, and it was taking a toll. No amount of sleep could ever make her less tired and at times it was hard to remember what she was doing. They used to worry eating only fish would lead to mercury poisoning or scurvy, but that's of little consequence if you starved to death.

Pulling the fish out of the river, Clem was disappointed to see it was even smaller than she expected. But it was still a meal, so she hastily dragged it onto the dirt and stabbed it in the head. With finally something to show for her work, Clem packed up her gear and headed back to their newest home, which was just across the road. In a small bit of luck, they found a neighborhood that bordered a decent size river, probably the actual Green River the town is named after.

The road leads right up to the water and a small wooden bridge led across to the appropriately named Island Park. Clem had briefly investigated it after their arrival here. It was very scenic, being a simple park with little wooden pagodas dotted around the path that runs around the tiny island. Clem would love to bring Omid there, play with him and Sarah for a while and forget about their troubles. The problem was their troubles wouldn't forget about them long enough to ever do it.

She moved up to their house for a time, some home office sitting on the corner of a small trailer park. It was less drafty than the trailers themselves and it was right next to the river, so at least they didn't need to go far for water. Beyond that it was nothing special, being just another abandoned building with little of value left in it. Moving past the fence and crossing through the tiny yard, Clem felt her steps get heavier as she approached the crummy grill sitting on the grass.

This building didn't have a fireplace and they couldn't find one nearby that did, so this was the next best thing. Clem laid out the fish on a table and picked up the can of lighter fluid by the grill. It was at least half full, which with the charcoal they found was enough to avoid collecting wood just to cook food and boil water for a few days. Clem didn't understand why lighter fluid didn't go bad, or why people couldn't make cars that run off it, but at least it was good for one thing.

Clem went to gut and skin the fish, and always it was a literal pain. Again, her hand ached horribly as she was forced to use her two remaining fingers and thumb to hold the fish in place while she tried to slice off its scales. That it was such a small fish just made it trickier for Clem's already shaking hands, but just looking at the headless piece of uncooked meat was enough to make her salivate. She grasped the body to gut it next when she felt a sharp pain shoot up her hand.

"Fuck!" she swore as she rubbed her hand.

"Clem!" Clem looked over to see Sarah carrying a bucket of water. She immediately set it down and ran over to Clem, or at least tried. In practice, it was more like a slow stumble that brought Sarah over to Clem.

"Just let me do it," insisted Sarah as she edged in next to the fish.

"No, I can handle it," refuted Clem.

"Please Clem, your hand won't get better if you keep hurting yourself." Even with the perpetual look of exhaustion on Sarah's face, Clem could see the overflowing concern in her eyes. "Just let me handle it, please?"

"Oh… okay." Clem dropped the knife and stepped away.

"I'll cook it and bring it in as soon as it's done," said Sarah as she took Clem's place at the table, groaning loudly as sat down in front of the fish. "Why don't you go check on Omid? He… he still won't get out of bed."

"Really?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"Yeah." Sarah sighed, then picked up the boning knife. Clem watched her slowly work on gutting the tiny fish for a few seconds, then headed into the house. Their current home wasn't particularly noteworthy beyond being better at keeping in heat than the trailers surrounding it. Judging from the slightly nicer than average decorum, Clem speculated whoever owned the trailer park probably once livered here.

That information wasn't of much help though. Naturally there was no food to be found and almost nothing of use in general beyond the grill and the what they needed to make use of it. The whole building had a kind of mildew smell that made Clem's nose wrinkle. But the bed was comfortable, and with a little work and a few things they scavenged from a closet Clem and Sarah managed to seal it up well enough to keep the cold air out.

Walking into the bedroom, Clem couldn't help thinking it wasn't much warmer even in here. The windows let in a lot of light that helped give them a bit of heat, but it was primarily the big pile of blankets on the bed that keep them from freezing at night. Probably the only time any of them felt something resembling happiness was when they huddled together at night. It was to keep warm mostly, but it also felt nice holding one another. Nice enough they never wanted to get out of bed, and to which Omid hadn't.

"Hey, Omid?" Whispered Clem as she peeled back the first layer of blankets. "You up?" Clem peeled back two more layers before she could finally make out an Omid shaped lump beneath the covers. "Come on Omid, you can't sleep all day." Clem peeled back the last layer and found Omid on his side, lying quietly on the same pillow she saw him on this morning.

"Omid?" Clem gave him a slight nudge and he started whimpering loudly in response. "I'm sorry, but you need to get up, just for a little while. Okay?" asked Clem as she climbed onto the bed next to him. "I know things are bad right now, but…" Clem wanted to say things would get better, but couldn't actually bring herself to say it. "Sarah found some toys in the other trailers, why don't we play with them?"

Clem climbed off the bed and over to the box of toys Sarah had put in the corner. They were going to try and play with Omid last night but were too tired to even look through the toy box.

"Oh, remember when we used to tell you the plane was coming when we fed you something?" Clem crawled onto the bed. "Here comes the plane!" Clem maneuvered a toy airplane close to Omid's face. "Come on, the plane is here," said Clem with forced enthusiasm as she circled the plane above Omid's head. He turned to look at it, then pushed it away before burying his head back in his pillow.

"Okay fine," said Clem as she tossed the plane aside. "How about…" Clem hopped off the bed and hurried back over to the box. "Oh, how about some play-doh?" Said Clem as she picked up a plastic container. "You never played with this before. It's really fun and…" Opening the container, Clem found a hardened lump of blue clay and sighed. "All right, how about—oh, some markers."

She grabbed a marker out of a plastic bag and used her teeth to pull the cap off it. Trying to draw on the wall to test it revealed the marker was completely dried out. She hastily grabbed another and tried it, it was dried out as well. She was about to toss the whole bag back into the box when she noticed there was a pink marker. She grabbed just in and climbed back onto the bed.

"Omid," she whispered. "Look at what I got." Omid opened his eyes and looked at the pink marker in her hand. "You remember, when we measured ourselves and you kept this? We never did find where you hid it, until now that is." Omid stared at the marker. "Come on, don't you want it? It's yours but I have it," she said as she wiggled the marker in front of his face. "Mah-bah!" Omid ignored Clem and turned back into the pillow.

"Well…" Clem stifled a sigh. "How about this?" Asked Clem as she took a badgered looking stuffed bear from the box. "How would you like a new friend?" Clem laid the bear out on the bed. Omid took one look at it and turned away again. Examining the bear, Clem didn't blame him. It was an ugly toy with a weird human-like face, separate hair that stood up on the top of its head, and a big red heart on its chest that just looked out of place.

She tossed it towards the box, but it bounced off the side and landed next to Sarah's backpack. Clem went to put it away when she got an idea. She dug through Sarah's pack for a second, then hurried into the living room to retrieve some duct tape she remembered seeing in a drawer. Laying everything out on a counter and drawing her knife from its sheath, Clem worked as quickly as she could. The second she was done she hurried back into the bedroom.

"Omid," whispered Clem. "There's someone here to see you." Omid slowly opened his eyes, seemingly out of obligation to Clem. He looked over, then his eyes went wide with surprise. "It's Elma!" announced Clem as she moved the recently restuffed animal closer. "She was looking hungry so I fed her a whole bear, and now she looks like when I first gave her to you… mostly."

Omid crawled forward, reached out his arms and took hold of his favorite toy with both hands, squeezing it for dear life. It warmed Clem's heart to see Omid finally want something other than to sleep all day. Seeing him happy, even only slightly, was the happiest Clem had felt in days, and she just hoped it wasn't ruined by the duct-tape popping off of Elma and leaking stuffing all over the bed. Watching him carefully, Clem noticed there were tears in Omid's eyes, but she couldn't tell if they were tears of joys or despair.

"He's finally up." Clem looked over her shoulder to see Sarah standing behind her in disbelief.

"Barely," noted Clem as she watched Omid cuddle up to Elma before closing his eyes again.

"Well, maybe he'll at least eat something." Clem watched eagerly as Sarah set down a plate of cooked fish on the dresser. Even though the flavor had long since lost its appeal, anything tasted good when you were hungry enough, doubly so if it was warm on a cold day. At least that's how Clem felt as she popped a salty piece of meat into her mouth. Omid felt differently however and took no notice of the fish even as Sarah held a piece right in front of his nose.

"Come on Omid," pleaded Sarah as she held the cooked fish in front of his mouth. "I know you're sick of it all the time, but you gotta eat."

Clem watched as Sarah carefully moved the fish into Omid's lips. He turned away and when she tried again he started crying to himself as he buried his face in Elma.

"Omid…" Sarah's voice was weak and cracked, like she could barely summon the will to speak anymore. She didn't even try again, she just sighed before eating the fish herself. Clem could tell from the look on her face she didn't enjoy a single bite of it. Walking up behind her, Clem reached out her trembling hand to touch Sarah's shoulder.

"Just… put a few pieces away for now," reasoned Clem. "We can warm them up for him at lunch."

"If he even eats then," said Sarah, trying not to cry. "I… I think he needs changing," she said as she struggled to stand up.

"Can I do it?"

"I told you—"

"I'll mostly use my right hand," reasoned Clem. "And… I'd like to change him. It makes things feel normal, at least for a few seconds."

Sarah's weary eyes met with Clem's. "Okay," she said. "I'll… I'll go boil some water, we always need more water."

Clem watched Sarah leave, practically limping as she moved out the door. Turning to Omid, Clem saw he was barely sobbing now. But listening closely, it sounded more like because he was too tired to keep crying than because he wasn't unhappy. Leaning in close, Clem smelt a very faint but familiar odor. She dug around in Sarah's backpack until she found a diaper and a roll of toilet paper.

It was harder than she thought changing Omid with only one fully functional hand. Omid resisted her, only just but enough to make it difficult to undress him. Doing anything with her left hand was painful, and both hands were shaking. No matter what they did, she never felt warm enough to stop shivering, and Omid didn't seem to fare much better. When torn away from his pillow it became clear he was shivering as well.

The old diaper was wet but not much else. In another time, Clem would be grateful for so little mess to clean up, but now it was a troubling sign Omid wasn't getting enough to eat, as if there weren't enough signs of that already. She always liked to think of Omid as this chubby little ball of joy, but he wasn't chubby anymore, and he certainly wasn't joyous right now.

Grimacing from the pain in her left hand, Clem fastened the new diaper and did her best to dress Omid as he fidgeted in her grasp. She wanted to tell him something, something comforting, but nothing came to mind. Instead, she just pulled a blanket over him so he wouldn't be too cold and let him rest in peace; it was all she could do for him anymore.

Standing there, Clem felt herself overcome with exhaustion. It wasn't even noon and all she had done was catch a single fish and change Omid, yet she felt ready to collapse. She was tempted to crawl into bed herself, just drift away. She was so tired of trying to think of what to do next, what they'd have to do after that inevitably fails, and just plain old tired. Ever since that night in Vernal, she kept thinking back to that figure she saw, and how for that brief moment she didn't feel any pain; she wanted that again.

Reluctantly, unhappily, she shuffled out of the bedroom, making sure to replace the towel stuffed under the door, then headed for the backyard where Sarah was babysitting a pot of water sitting on the grill. She was fiddling with her radio, likely broadcasting her message again. She'd already done it once this morning just after the sun came up, but Clem guessed she didn't have much else to do right now. Moving closer, it felt like a pinprick through Clem's heart to hear the sheer desperation in Sarah's voice.

"Please," begged Sarah through her tears. "Please, anyone… we're gonna die." Those words sent a chill through Clem's already trembling body; it was true. "We'll… we'll do anything," continued Sarah. "If you just… just say something, anything. Please… just let us know there's someone else still alive out there. I… I just… I don't want to die… not like this… I…"

Sarah spun around and saw Clem staring at her. The pair met eyes but they didn't say anything. Sarah just let the radio fall from her hand as Clem sat down beside her. They embraced each other and Clem's arms were so weak she barely had the strength to hug Sarah. They sat in silence, probably could neither one of them could think of anything to say. Their fates appeared sealed, despite how hard they had fought against them.

"Why…"

"I don't know."

Sarah pulled away from Clem suddenly, her face twisted with confusion.

"What?" asked Clem.

"What did you just say?" asked Sarah suddenly.

"I said, I don't know."

"Before that."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't say why?"

"You said that."

"No I didn't…"

Clem suddenly realized why Sarah appeared so alarmed.

"Why…" Even cloaked in static, the sound of that voice coming over the radio was deafening. "…you want?"

Sarah looked over at Clem suddenly, her wide-eyed panic growing by the second.

"What… what do we do?" asked Sarah.

"Talk to him!"

Sarah scooped up the radio and pressed the talk button. "Hello? Can you hear us?" asked Sarah as she spoke into the radio. "If you can hear me, we need help, bad!"

The pair sat with bated breath as they awaited an answer from the mystery caller. "Barely hear…" the words disappeared into static. "…higher… can talk."

"What?" said Sarah.

"I… I think it works better if you get up somewhere high," concluded Clem. "I… I remember once I was talking to my mom while she was away, and I could only hear her from my…" Clem grabbed hold of the radio and looked at the dial. "Keep him talking," she said as she bolted to the nearest tree.

"Where are you going?"

"To get somewhere higher up."

Clem removed her own radio and changed the channel to the one on Sarah's radio, then looked up for a place to get a grip.

"Please, if you can hear me, we really need help," Clem heard Sarah say over the radio as she reached up with her good hand while planting a foot on a gnarl jutting out of the tree trunk. "We're…. we're hungry, and tired, and… we just really need someone to help us right now."

Clem got a grip on the lowest branch, then groaned as she pulled herself up. She was tired and sore, but the crackle of static from the radio gave her just enough strength to climb. "Like to help…" crackled the voice, sounding almost like it was whispering. "Where…" Clem groaned as she wrapped her left arm around another branch, her hand throbbing even when she mostly avoided using her fingers to grab the wood. "…to meet you?"

"Um…" Sarah's voice cut out suddenly as Clem climbed higher. "We… we gotta be nearby for you to hear us," realized Sarah, deflecting the question. "Where are you?" Clem listened closely as she climbed higher, eager for a response. "Can you hear me? Where are you?" repeated Sarah. "Do… do you need help too? Maybe we can help each other." Clem found the branches above her too thin to keep climbing, so she stopped.

Looking around, she was fearful she'd see or hear some vehicle rushing up to meet her. She could see more houses and trees laid out on the streets before her, nothing she didn't already know about. Looking up, all she could see where the barren desert cliffs sloping up around them to the north. Even if this person was nearby, there was plenty of places to hide from sight, and that's assuming they weren't miles away.

"I want to help," spoke the voice, still cloaked in static but much clearer now. "But…"

Clem waited for the rest of his message, but it didn't come. She didn't think it was because of their distance since she didn't even hear any static of someone trying to call her anymore.

"But what?" asked Clem, struggling to grip the radio's talk button firmly and not drop the radio with only two fingers and a thumb. "Please, please don't ignore us."

"Who is this?" This voice was different from the last one, and it sounded a lot less welcoming than the first one. Clem paused as she considered her answer. "I can't help you if I don't know who I'm dealing with."

"I'm just someone trying to survive, me and my best friend," answered Clem.

"Is that the other voice I heard?"

"Yes," said Clem.

"Were you trying to contact us this morning as well?"

"Yes, that was us!"

"Who are you?" said the voice, more accusing than asking. "How did you know you could contact us on this channel?"

"We didn't," answered Clem. "We've been calling for help on every channel every day for the last week… you're the first people to answer."

Clem waited for the stranger to respond, but there was only silence. "Please, we're starving, and we need help," begged Clem. "We'll do anything you want if you just help us. We know how to deal with the dead, and how to catch fish, we'll do anything you want if… if you just help us."

Clem waited even longer for a response this time, wanting to make it absolutely clear to the person on the other end she was done speaking; still no answer.

"Please… just say something," begged Clem.

"What does 'helping you' entail exactly?"

Clem breathed a small sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. Whoever she was talking to now sounded completely unconcerned with Clem's desperate pleas, forcing her to consider her next words carefully. They needed more than just help, they needed a small miracle, but Clem doubted this person would want to hear that. "If you just had some extra food, something other than fish, that'd be a big help right now. Do you want fish? We'll trade you."

Clem waited for an answer, and again she didn't get one. "You… you don't have a car, do you? My friend is pretty good with fixing them," said Clem, knowing that was an exaggeration. "If you did, we'd do anything we could to keep it working. Trust us… you don't want to be without one."

Clem waited even longer for a response this time, reasoning that she was telling this person a lot and they might need to think about it. She sat there on the branch, one arm wrapped around the narrow top of the trunk while her left hand was throbbing in pain from having to grip the radio so tightly. Eventually, she couldn't bear waiting anymore and pressed the talk button again.

"Look, isn't there anything you need? Anything at all?" asked Clem. "Why… why don't you just tell us what you need and maybe we can help you, and then you can help us," reasoned Clem. "There's gotta be at least one thing you want or you wouldn't keep talking to us," reasoned Clem. "What do you want?"

Clem shifted her weight as her right arm started to get sore. The branch she was sitting on felt flimsy and she was afraid she'd lose her balance if she stayed up here much longer. She didn't dare say anything else, if for no reason other than being afraid of cutting off the strangers' possible answer. The silence was deafening, and in this moment the only thing Clem could hear was her own heart beating against the side of her chest.

"We'd like a meeting," answered the man on the radio.

"A meeting?"

"We want to know what we're dealing with, and the best way to figure that out is a face to face meeting."

"Does… does that mean you'll help us?" asked Clem in desperation.

"Perhaps, after we know who we're dealing with," dictated the man. "These radios can't carry for more than a few miles, so we must be close to each other. We'll need some kind of landmark to navigate."

"The tunnel!" blurted out Clem.

"The tunnel?"

"On Interstate Eighty, there's this big tunnel going right through part of the mountain," recalled Clem when she went looking for messages from the others. "It's huge, if you just move along the interstate you can't miss it."

"We haven't seen any tunnels like you're describing." The radio went silent for a second and Clem was afraid she had lost the signal. "We want you to go to this tunnel you mentioned, then walk east on Interstate Eighty."

"For how long?" asked Clem.

"Until we tell you to stop," answered the stranger. "We'll contact you with directions after that. We'll be watching, so come alone, and keep your radio on, and on this channel only."

"Wait, how… how do I know this isn't a trap?" asked Clem. "How do I know you're not gonna hurt me… or worse?"

"You contacted us," reminded the man on the radio.

"That doesn't mean anything," refuted Clem. "You could have heard us call for help and think we're easy targets."

"And you could be baiting people into ambushes by feigning distress," retorted the man on the radio. "If you really need help as badly as you say, you'll follow our instructions."

"And if I don't?" challenged Clem.

"Then, I suspect we'll be the last people you ever speak with."

Even with the cold wind blowing in her face, those words still managed to send a chill down Clem's spine. She looked around from her perch in the tree, paranoid someone was already watching her from afar. She didn't see anything, but she couldn't shake the feeling they were already out there. After all, the radio had a limited range, they couldn't be more than ten miles away, and probably much closer than that. The only question is where.

"Clem!" Even from the top of the tree, Clem could see Sarah was staring up at her expectedly.

"I'm coming down!" Clem hurried down the tree as fast as her aching limbs could carry her. Landing hard on the frozen dirt, Sarah came rushing up to her with that familiar look that always screamed 'What are we going to do!'

"I… I'll go," blurted out Sarah suddenly, like she wasn't sure of what she just said.

"What?"

"I… I heard enough to know one of us has to go meet them," she explained. "I'll take my bike and—"

"I'm going," dictated Clem. "You—"

"No, not this time!" Clem was startled by how suddenly Sarah raised her voice. "I… I'm gonna go, and—"

"Sarah, don't argue with me," pleaded a tired Clem.

"Give me one reason it should be you and not me," she demanded.

"You're pregnant."

Those words affected Sarah much more than Clem expected. She seemed suddenly overwrought with sadness. "That's the reason I should go."

"What?"

"If… if they're bad… and they kill me—"

"Don't say that," begged Clem.

"Then… at least you won't have to worry about two babies."

"Sarah…"

"It'll be easier for you, you'd just have to take care of Omid instead of—"

"Jesus Sarah, I… don't tell me that!"

"I'm just trying to think this through," she babbled, sounding on the verge of a breakdown. "If one of us isn't gonna make it back, it should be me."

"And then what? You think I can take care of Omid on my own at this point?" challenged Clem. "I can barely fish because my hand hurts so much."

"You think I can do this without you?" said Sarah. "I can barely walk right now. I'm not even sure if I even could use my bike if I wanted to."

"I know… that's why I need to go. If they attack us, then I got a better chance of getting away than you do." Sarah's face winced in pain upon hearing that. Clem could tell she wanted to argue but couldn't think of anything. "We promised each other we'd try to stay alive and stay together. This is the best chance we have for keeping that promise."

Sarah sighed deeply to herself. "Yeah," she said. "And if one of us has to come after the other, I'm better at using that rifle than you are."

"Sarah—"

"Don't even try to tell me to not come after you," retorted Sarah. "I saved you back in Wyoming."

"You just said you don't even know if you could use your bike."

"For you I can!" proclaimed Sarah. "Omid needs us both… there's no way just one of us could keep going like this with him on our own anymore, you basically just said so yourself." Clem wanted to argue with Sarah, but couldn't think of anything. "I'll follow behind you, far enough where no one could see me but you still could reach me on the radio."

"They said—"

"Come alone, and you will, but I'll be close enough that if they say anything over the radio I'll be able to hear it."

"I… I don't know if this is a good idea," said Clem. "If they're willing to help us, and they figure out you're following me and listening in on them, we might blow our only chance at getting help."

"Well I…" Sarah sighed. "I won't do anything unless you tell me to."

"How would I even do that?" asked Clem. "How would I even know you're there?"

"Over the radio," said Sarah. "I could give you a signal of some kind."

"Like what?"

Sarah took a deep breath as she rubbed her head. Clem can't remember the last time she looked this tired. Slowly, she lifted the radio, then tapped the talk button a couple of times, producing a few short clicks of static from Clem's radio.

"That," said Sarah. "They won't think much if they hear static a couple of times, but if you hear it twice in a row, then that means I can see you. And if you just tap the talk button a couple of times back, then I'll know to do something."

"Do what?" asked Clem.

"Whatever I can," shrugged Sarah. "I shot that woman in the head… I'll do it again if it means keeping you safe."

"Oh… okay," said Clem, quietly resigning herself to this hastily concocted plan. She didn't have any better ideas, nor did she have the energy to argue for one even if she did. Most pressing, they didn't have any time to waste; every second they debated was another closer to the brink of death. Omid was refusing to eat, Sarah struggled to get around, and Clem felt weaker now than when she woke up this morning. If they waited much longer, she might not even have the strength to pedal out to meet these mystery people.

The pair returned to the house and prepared themselves. They made sure their guns were fully loaded, filled their canteens with the water Sarah had boiled and got their backpacks and masks ready. Digging through what little they had left, Clem found the hand grenade tucked into the bottom of her pack. Pulling it out and looking at it, Clem found herself shaking as she thought back to Vernal.

"Here," said Clem as she hastily offered the grenade to Sarah. "In case you need it."

Sarah looked at the grenade closely, then turned away. "You should keep it," she said. "It'll give you a better chance to get away from these people if they try anything."

"How?" asked Clem.

"Well, when those people attacked the farm, Patty pulled the pin on a grenade and held onto the handle and… it almost worked."

Clem didn't like the idea of holding onto a live grenade, but then she hated the idea of being kidnaped or raped even more, so she clipped the grenade to her belt. After that, she felt her hand move to another vital piece of equipment, the paper clip on the back of her belt. Even though she had forgotten about it for a time, it was still there. Feeling that tiny piece of metal on her fingertips, a chill shot up Clem's spine.

"Can… can I have a painkiller before I go?" said Clem suddenly.

"For your hand?"

"Yeah…" said Clem, even though she was thinking more about the pain these people could inflict on her if they were so inclined.

"Sure," said Sarah as she unscrewed a pill bottle. "I think I'll take one as well."

"For your feet?"

"Yeah…" Sarah passed Clem a pill, then placed one in her own palm. The pair exchanged a nervous look, then took a sip of water to swallow the painkillers. As Sarah moved to screw the cap back on, Clem noticed there were only a few pills left in the bottom of the bottle. Even if she only took one a night they'd be gone in a week, and she suspected their xanax supply wasn't much better.

Throwing the bags over their shoulders, the pair then turned to the bedroom door and headed inside. Omid was sleeping, at least they thought he was. It was hard to tell lately when he was actually asleep and when he was awake because in either case he never wanted to do anything but stay in bed. It was as if Vernal had convinced the outside world was nothing but pain and danger; he wasn't necessarily wrong.

"Just hold on a little longer," whispered Clem as she rubbed the back of his head. "If… if we get lucky, just this once, it'll be okay," croaked Clem. "At least for a little while."

"I'll wait fifteen minutes, long enough to make sure he'll be okay for a little while without us," said Sarah as sat down on the bed beside Omid. "Then I'll come after you."

"You know where to go?"

"I heard most of it on the radio," said Sarah. "There's a big tunnel on Interstate Eighty. Go there and then go east on the main road. I'll stop every so often and see if I can find you in the distance with the rifle scope."

"No, use these instead," said Clem as she removed her binoculars and set them on the bed. "If someone sees you looking through the scope of a rifle, they might just shoot you."

"They won't see me," assured Sarah.

"They might if you use the rifle scope. It reflects light and people can see that from a distance… that's how Omid's dad died. Nick saw the rifle scope glinting in the sun, then he saw the rifle and… he shot him."

"Wouldn't the binoculars lenses reflect light too?"

"No it… I don't know actually." Sarah anxiously looked at Clem and Clem didn't have an answer.

"I'll keep them both covered," concluded Sarah. "And only use them for a second at a time when I absolutely need to."

"Yeah, that's smart." Clem tried to think of something else to say, but only one thing came to mind. "I love you."

"Love you too," spoke a weary Sarah in a way that almost sounded like 'goodbye'. Clem lingered for a second, hoping for an excuse to not leave, but one didn't come. She marched back into the living room, put on her mask and backpack, then headed out the front door. Just looking at her bike made her legs hurt. Clem really didn't want to leave, she just wanted to go to bed and forget everything, hope that someone good would come and rescue them, but in over two years that hadn't happened, and Clem had no reason to assume it would happen now.

Forcing her aching legs to pedal while her lungs gasped for air and the wind whipped at the small bits of skin Clem hadn't managed to cover was all too familiar to her, yet she never got used to it. Even with two coats, a scarf, and a hood Clem still felt the annoying sting of the cold air. It was around her wrists where her sleeves meet her gloves, occasionally nipping at her ears when she faced the wind, and this tiny little stream of cold air that she could just barely feel pushing in through the crack on her mask.

But the ever invasive sting of winter paled in comparison to the pain in Clem's left hand. She had tried to steer with just the right one, but after nearly crashing into a ditch after the first day Clem abandoned that option. Clutching the handlebar with her remaining fingers was intensely painful and Clem couldn't bear it for more than a minute. Awkwardly resting her wrist on the left handlebar and only grabbing it when she needed it to steer was the best solution she could find, and even then Clem was desperate for the painkiller to take effect already.

Cycling through the town of Green River, Clem found her mind was mostly blank. She should be looking out for threats and trying to think of what she was going to say to these new people, but it took every bit of her wavering strength just to keep pedaling. Reaching the interstate, Clem found the tunnel on her left. It was massive, looking like a man-made cave cleanly cut through hundreds of feet of solid rock. It was curious to think this tunnel would likely outlive most of the human race, or more likely all of it.

Empty deserts only decorated by steep red rock hills was all that greeted Clem as she traveled east on the interstate. In another time, she'd probably enjoy the scenery, like they used to when they had the Brave. On their way to Green River, they passed through the Flaming Gorge itself. When they stopped the rest for a while, Sarah had tried to coax Omid into looking out at the breath-taking vista, hoping it'd bring him a little happiness to see something so beautiful. But he never saw it, he just kept his eyes shut as he clung to Sarah for warmth; Clem understood how he felt.

"Stop." Clem skidded to a shaky stop. She didn't know how long she had been on the road, everything had just blurred together as she forced herself forward. Putting down the kickstand and getting off the bike, Clem looked up at the sky. It was still morning so she couldn't have been pedaling that long.

"I told you to walk." Clem had been in a trance up until now, and looking around she didn't fully recognize her surroundings. This was still the barren badlands of Wyoming, but she hadn't gone this far into them since arriving in Green River. More troubling, she had no idea where this person was watching her from.

"Look ahead at the road and don't move," ordered the man on the radio in a stern voice. Clem turned her head, but felt a growing terror overtaking her weary mind as she realized the situation she was in. As she stood there, terrified of what she had gotten herself into, an idea formed in her head. She didn't want to be taken hostage yet again, so she very slowly and carefully drifted her had towards the grenade clipped to her belt. They wouldn't want to kidnap her if she turned herself into a living bomb.

"I said, don't move." His words were followed by the sound of a rifle being cocked, all delivered to Clem's ears courtesy of her own radio. "If you don't listen to me, I'll shoot you dead where you stand." Clem's heart raced as she froze in place. She was terrified she'd just hear a gunshot next and that would be it. "Now, listen to me very carefully," instructed the man on the radio. "Slowly, raise your hands over your head; no sudden movements."

Clem was almost too terrified to move. She barely inched her hands up, fearful anything else would be seen as a 'sudden movement' and she'd be shot. She even paused after moving her hands up to her chest, and when she wasn't shot for it, carefully raised them further, eventually holding them up over her head. Clem stood there, shaking in fear of what was to come next.

"Now, I want you to place your hands on the back of your head and lock your fingers in place. Again, no sudden moves." Clem did as instructed, forcing her trembling fingers around the back of her hood. "Next, go down to your knees, then lie down face first on the asphalt. Once there, you stay there until I say you can get up. If you understand this, nod right now."

Clem hastily nodded in response, then willed one of her knees to bend despite how paralyzed she felt right now. She moved stiffly and slowly, barely able to control herself as she was forced to consider the position she was putting herself into. Once on her knees, Clem found herself thinking about when she surrendered herself to Beth and wondered if it'd be better to risk getting shot now than being helpless and tortured later.

These weren't the words of someone who'd help a stranger, and even if they let her go Clem was so tired she doubted she could even make it home at this point. She was so damn tired, and both her mind and body were ready to give in than spend another second enduring the torment of clinging to life. But just as she considered standing up and hoping to be killed, the thought of leaving Sarah and Omid behind without a prayer crept into her mind; Clem laid down on the asphalt.

There she remained in quiet terror for what felt like an eternity. She didn't hear any more instructions from the radio, or anything but a soft wind blowing through. Before long it was a struggle to stay conscious. The road was not comfortable, but Clem was very drowsy and every second she lay there felt like an hour of waiting. The only thing that kept her up was the thought of not wanting to be asleep when this person found her.

Eventually, Clem heard footsteps and found herself overcome with yet a new wave of fear, this time at the prospect of meeting another stranger. Their footsteps kept growing louder until Clem could feel them through the pavement itself. Each step was a horrible pounding that reverberated through her already aching head and they were getting louder with every second until Clem was sure this person was just going to step on her like an insect.

"I'm going to search you for weapons now." His voice was stern and measured, a little like Sin's except with a hint of a threat beneath his words. "Remain absolutely still until I'm finished. If you understand, move your head up and then back down, slowly." Clem looked up, both to follow his instructions and to hopefully get a glance at what he looked like. He was behind or beside her, and Clem didn't want to risk turning her head so she just looked back down at the pavement.

Not long after that, she felt the stranger's hands touching her, a sensation that never failed to make her shudder in disgust. He removed her knife, pistol, and grenade almost instantly, and then she felt him frisking her waist for more weapons. And he didn't stop there, opening and searching her backpack before padding down her entire chest, each arm, and then both legs. He did it quickly but thoroughly, squeezing her then moving his hands slightly until he covered her entire body. Even if she still had her ankle gun there's no way he wouldn't have found it.
"All right. In a minute, I'm going to ask you to stand up," he explained. "Again, no sudden movements, and keep your hands where I can see them at all times." Clem took a deep breath as she waited for his next command. "All right, stand up, slowly."

Clem took a deep breath, then looked up. She saw a man standing several feet away in front of her. He wore a black bandana, a matching overcoat, and was holding a long rifle in his hands. A wool cap covered his hair and Clem couldn't see much of his face past his bandana except for a pair of suspicious brown eyes behind large rectangular glasses. Looking at him, she couldn't help thinking of Simon for some reason.

"Yah-ought-eh," announced Clem as she slowly stood up.

"What?" snapped the man as he tightened his grip on his rifle.

"It's Navajo for hello," answered a nervous Clem.

"You're Navajo?"

"No," answered a disheartened Clem.

"Then why are you speaking their language to a stranger?"

"Because I was hoping to find them… but you're not them, are you?"

The man stood there for a second, like he was mulling over the question. "No," he finally answered. "Why are you looking for people speaking Navajo? What do you want from them?"

"I'm looking for anyone who can help us. Someone told me what's left of the Navajo Nation would be here, and they would be trying to survive the winter, but I haven't seen any sign of them."

"Who told you that?"

"Just someone we met, a boy named Simon." Clem took a breath. "He's gone now."

"Who else are you looking for?" asked the man without hesitation. "What do you know about this area?"

"No one and nothing," said Clem. "We just got here a few days ago."

"Who's we, exactly?"

"Me and my best friend." Clem decided not to mention Omid. She didn't trust this person not to use his existence against her, or Omid himself. "It's just the two of us."

"Who's your friend and what do you two need exactly?"

"She's just another person trying to survive, like me," explained Clem. "We're hurt, we're starving, and we'll do anything if you just help us out."

"So I heard over the radio," he said. "Why ask me though?"

"I told you, you're the first person we've talked to in… forever," croaked Clem.

"What of this Simon you just mentioned?"

"That was over a week a few hundred miles ago," spoke a weary Clem. "There's… there's nothing left. There's no food around here, or signs that anybody left in the world is still alive but you," she rambled. "Look, I've done everything you've said, and we'll do anything else you want if that's what it takes. Please, just, don't leave us out here alone, okay? You didn't kill me when you had the chance, so you must care a little. Can… can you just help us, please?"

The man stood there, his gun still aimed at Clem. "I'm afraid I can't do that." A chill shot up Clem's spine as she heard those words. The next thing she expected to see was the flash of the rifle's muzzle and then darkness, but that didn't happen. Instead, he lowered the gun and slowly backed away.

"Where are you going?" asked Clem.

"I'm leaving," he announced as he walked backwards slowly. "If you value your life, you won't follow me."

"If you weren't gonna help us, then why did you come out here?"

"My reasons are my own."

"So… you're just gonna leave us to die?" asked a dismayed Clementine.

"I didn't leave you any worse than how you came to me."

"Bullshit, you still have my gun! And my knife, and—"

"Don't follow me and I'll leave it in the middle of the road once you're out of sight. You can get them then." The man raised his gun again. "I'm gonna have to ask you to lie down again."

Clem gritted her teeth. She didn't want to do a damn thing after this man so casually announced he was abandoning her without a second thought. But she had nothing to attack him with, and even now he was wisely keeping his distance from her. She couldn't even attempt to rush him because he had moved so far away just now. She didn't have any choice except to comply. She laid back down in utter defeat and watched as the man kept walking backwards, his gun trained on Clem as he did.

She wanted to scream, but instead she heard something from her radio. Clem didn't dare pick it up while the man was looking at her, but listening closely she could hear it clearly this time. Two quick but separate bursts of static; Sarah could see her. After backpedaling a good twenty feet, the man finally turned around and started walking faster. If Sarah could see Clem, she could see the man as well, which meant she could kill him right now. Clem moved her finger to the talk button, ready to signal Sarah to take the shot, but then got an idea, one last desperate idea.

"You're not just killing us!" screamed Clem as the man kept walking away. "You're killing our children too!" That caused the man to stop walking. Slowly he turned around and as soon Clem knew he was looking at her she hastily tore off her mask.

"You're a child." He said that like he already knew it.

"Yeah, and my best friend's just four years older than me," announced Clem as she stood up, his rules be damned.

"So by 'your children', you mean yourself and your friend."

"No," refuted Clem. "My friend is pregnant."

"I—"

"And that's on top of our little boy."

Clem saw the man's eyebrows shift. He had a good poker face, but she could tell that comment caught his attention. "What do you mean 'your little boy?"

"I mean, our little boy," repeated Clem as she started walking slowly towards the man. "His name is Omid, and he's not even two years old yet. Do… do you know how hard it is to raise a baby, especially now? Do you… do you have even the slightest idea of what it's like to look him in the eyes and tell him it's going to be okay, even when it won't be? Do you know what it feels like when you can't even do that anymore, can't even lie to him about how bad things are now?"

"I'm… sorry," said the man, sounding unsure for the first time since speaking.

"Can you even begin to imagine what it's like to watch him get thinner and thinner every day, to watch him just waste away in front of you, and there's nothing you can do to stop it?" continued Clem. "You can't even picture it, can you? I've had to watch this happen right in front of me, for almost two years, all the while knowing that any day something could come along and snatch his little life away right in front of me, assuming he didn't starve to death first! And you're just gonna let that happen, because you don't care about anything but yourself!"

"I'd like to help, but—"

"Then fucking help us!" screamed Clem as she marched towards him. "You have any idea how many people have told us they'd like to help us and don't do it? Just fucking help us already! We're a bunch of scared kids! You're an old man, you got to live your life you selfish prick!"

"That's close enough!" The man raised the rifle as Clem walked right up to him. "Take another step and—

"You'll shoot me? Then fucking shoot me already!" Clem lunged forward, grabbed the barrel of the rifle and planted her own forehead against it. "Because if you just leave me out here, this is what you're doing!" she screamed as she wrapped her fingers around that cold steel rifle. "You might as well go ahead and shoot my best friend and our baby as well because we're as good as dead if you don't help us today!"

"Don't put that on me!" he barked. "I—"

"Do you have any idea what I've been through?" challenged Clem through clenched teeth as she suddenly glared into the stranger's eyes. "I've been starved, drugged, kidnapped, beaten, choked, bitten, whipped, blown up and shot! I've had more guns pointed at me than birthdays, a lot more! I never got to finish the first grade but I've seen people—not walkers, people eating other people!"

"We've all seen things we wish we could forget since the world changed," insisted the man, a hint of regret in his voice.

"Whatever you've seen, I've seen worse," declared Clem.

"You have no idea what I—"

"You see this?" Clem pointed to the scar on her cheek. "I got this from the same person who forced her tongue down my throat! That was right before she nearly cut out my eye and tore off my clothes because she wanted to rape me!"

"I…"

"Have you ever seen a man throw a baby into a dumpster?"

"What?" asked the man, sounding baffled.

"I have. I had to sit on my knees and watch as some piece of shit picked up Omid and threw him into a dumpster while I was helpless to stop it!" screamed Clem, more out of desperation than anger now. "He… he was just screaming for us and… and that fucker was going to drop him—an innocent little baby, into a fucking garbage truck!"

"Garbage truck?" repeated the man.

"He was going to drop him into it and… and just kill him right in front of us! And Omid… he hasn't said a word since that day," cried Clem as tears streaked down her face. "I had to learn how to fight monsters instead of going to school. I had to blow off my own two fingers just a week ago because I had no other choice. I've had to kill people just to stay alive, or at least I thought I had to!

"I had to shoot the only person I had left in the world right after I found out my parents were dead! I watched as the closest thing I had left to a dad after that got his brains blown out right in front of me, and the closest thing I had left to a mom I had to leave behind because she was bitten! I've had to watch over and over and over again as every decent person left in this world either dies right in front of me or leaves me.

"And the only ones left now are my best friend, who's terrified she's going to die because she's pregnant, and Omid, who won't even eat anymore! And I'm just hoping they're okay right now, and they haven't been eaten by walkers or killed by people wearing strange masks because I had to come out here and beg the only other person left on Earth to actually give a shit about if kids live or die!"

Clem felt her anger turn to despair as she couldn't even remain standing anymore. She collapsed onto her knees and just started crying as she banged her fists into the pavement. "Why doesn't anyone care?" she whimpered through her choked sobs. "Walkers wrecked the world… but it's people that ended it." Clem sighed deeply and looked up. Much to her surprise, the man hadn't left. He was looking down at Clem, but for what reason she didn't know.

"What's your name?" he said.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Clem. "Are you actually going to help me?"

"Perhaps," he said. "But I want to know who I'm talking to first."

"Clementine," she said as she wiped her eyes. "My name is Clementine…who are you?"

He hesitated to answer, something Clem noticed was a recurring habit with him. "Eskiya," he finally answered.

"Well, are you going to help me?"

"I might, but I'll have to take some precautions first."

"Precautions?"

"To protect my own people," he said as threw his rifle over his shoulder. "I'll have to blindfold you first, and you'll need to put these on."

Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as she watched Eskiya remove handcuffs from his coat pocket.

"No… no, please don't—"

"I have to be sure you won't be able to escape, or contact your friend and tell them where we are if you do," he stated. "I'm obligated to protect my own from harm, you understand."

"It's just… is there any other way to do this?"

"No," he stated plainly. "If you really want to help your friend and baby, I'll have to consult with the others, and if they say no, we have to be sure you couldn't find us afterwards."

Clem stared at those metal rings he was holding in abject terror. Just the sight of them was making her shake, and the menacing figure holding them would be enough to make her vomit if her stomach wasn't so empty. He was staring at her, impatiently she presumed but she couldn't be sure since his face was concealed. She heard a couple of clicks from her radio, followed by two more. Sarah was signaling her, urgently, as if she already decided to shoot this man and was just waiting for Clem's approval.

Clem didn't want to go with him. She's had to beg and cry to get him to even consider helping her, and now he wanted to cuff her just like Beth did. Clem found her hand moving to the radio without thinking, ready to escape this nightmare. But again she hesitated as she forced herself to think about what would happen next. They'd be no better off than where they started today, and they might make a new enemy who could come after them.

Clem turned around, then looked off in the distance. She couldn't see Sarah, or even so much as a glint anywhere in the distance; that was good. Clem looked towards the west and very subtly shook her head, hoping Sarah both saw her and understood.

"Well?" asked the man.

"Just make it quick," said Clem.

"I'm going to have to ask you to take off your backpack." Clem sighed as she undid the straps and let the bag hit the pavement. "And if you would, lock your fingers around the back of your head again." Clem did as she was told, and no sooner did her hands touch her head then had the stranger grabbed one of her wrists.

"Remain still." He swiftly bound her hands and tightened the cuffs to the point Clem could feel the cold steel digging into her skin. Even with the painkiller, she could also feel a subtle shooting pain in her left hand from being twisted into the cuffs. Before she knew it, a blindfold was tied around her head and the world disappeared into darkness. "I'm going to turn you around and we're both going to walk east."

"I don't know how long I can walk right now," admitted Clem. "I—"

"It won't be for very far," he assured. "Just stay close and move with me." He held onto one of Clem's arms tightly and forced her to move forward. She reasoned to herself if this man wanted her dead he would have killed her already, and if he wanted her alive for something he wouldn't have been so quick to leave a minute ago. She wanted to believe he was a decent person whose conscience finally got the better of him just now. But the hard truth Clem forced herself to confront was she didn't know anything about this man, beyond him being careful enough to not reveal anything to her.

"Wait here for a second." Clem stopped and listened closely as the man moved in close. A chill shot up her spine as she suddenly felt his hand at her belt. He grabbed something clipped to her hip and there was a slight click; he turned off her radio. Panic shot through Clem's veins. Had he figured out their signal? Was this all just trick to get Clem far enough away so he could kill her out of range of Sarah's rifle? Or was he just making sure she couldn't hear his friends when he called them.

"Hurry," she heard him whisper, almost certainly into his own radio.

"What… what are you doing?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Just remain still." Clem did as she told, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could take this. Her legs already really hurt and now they were trembling as well. Standing there in the cold, blinded to the world, Clem felt that always present dread in her stomach grow as she heard something approaching. It was a diesel engine, of that there was doubt, and Clem realized she made a horrible mistake.

She was too afraid to even try to run, and even if she wasn't, she was blinded and handcuffed. Clem started frantically feeling around for the paper clip on her belt, praying he hadn't noticed it when he searched her. She had nothing to fight with but maybe if she broke free they'd just shoot her instead of whatever they were planning instead. Clem felt the man tighten his grip on her arm as she cursed herself for not telling Sarah to shoot him when she had the chance.

"Calm down, now," he ordered.

"What… what are you going to do to me?" asked a trembling Clem. "What are you gonna do—"

"Nothing," he barked. "Just hold—"

"I can hear it!" yelled Clem as the deafening engine roared louder. "What are you going to do to me!"

"It's just my transportation," explained the man, sounding puzzled. "Look, it's… it's not a garbage truck, okay?" Clem didn't know why that calmed her. Maybe it was because she wasn't entirely sure herself what she was afraid of at this point, or maybe it's just that was the first time this person expressed some shred of concern for her. Either way, she managed to stay on her feet long enough to hear something massive roll up beside her.

"There's going to be steps you'll need to climb," explained the man. "Just go forward slowly and surely, okay?"

"Okay," said Clem as she heard the sound of a large vehicle's brakes squeaking to a stop. There was a mechanical clicking sound followed by a gentle nudge by the man. Clem tiptoed forward until her shin collided with what must be the step. She had to lift her leg higher than she expected to find her footing, but after that she managed to climb aboard of whatever this thing was.

"What the hell is this?" barked a woman's voice as Clem felt herself being pushed forward into the vehicle. "Jesus Eskiya, you were just supposed to find out who was on the radio, not bring her back!"

"Just drive us somewhere out of sight," instructed Eskiya as Clem felt his hands on her shoulders.

"There was an overpass back the way we came," spoke a different man. "Although it wouldn't be hard to find if anyone is following us."

"We just need a few minutes," insisted Eskiya as Clem realized he was urging her to sit down on the floor. "That's all."

"We?" repeated the woman's voice. "This is your mess now Eskiya, you and Horatio's."

"I would have gone myself if you had let me!" yelled a fourth voice in the distance. It sounded like they were in another room. "And next time Sabriya, I might just do that!"

"Get up here!" she yelled back. "Come look at what you've done!"

"Not for nothing," spoke a man's voice coming from the other direction. "But we agreed you should go to avoid this kind of situation. What the hell are you up to Eskiya?"

"I have my reasons, Dilawar," said Eskiya. "Just get us out of sight for now." Clem tried to control her breathing. She was scared and she didn't want these people to see it. Hearing them argue was oddly encouraging though. They weren't dominated by a single unyielding voice, which meant Clem had a chance of appealing to at least some of them, provided any of them cared about what she had to say.

"I'm going to uncuff you for one second then recuff you," explained Eskiya in a quiet voice. "I take it you understand you're not to move while I do this, correct?"

"Yeah," answered a nervous Clem.

"All right, just hold still." Clem heard a click and breathed a momentary sigh of relief as she felt her left hand be released, only for it to be twisted into a different position and be hastily recuffed.

"Okay, I think this will do," called the man's voice from Clem's left. "At least for a pit stop."

Clem heard the engine gear down and felt something tugging on her blindfold as the sounds of aged brakes squealing to a slow stop filled the air. Clem blinked her eyes a few times as the blindfold fell away as she looked around. She tried to sit up only to discover the cuffs were now looped around something. It was dark, likely because they were in an underpass from what she could see out of the window across from her. She wasn't certain, but looking at the seat beneath the window, Clem surmised that she was on a bus, and she had just be handcuffed to the legs of one of its seats.

She remembered going on a field trip in a bus like this once. Not a school bus but a big fancy one with a TV mounted near the front that played a movie during the trip. Turning her head, she didn't see a TV but she saw another row of seats and past them was a man sitting behind a very big steering wheel. The back of his head didn't really tell Clem anything useful, but judging from the elaborate dashboard this was a very large bus.

Looking the other way, Clem saw all the other seats had been removed. The row she was cuffed to was the last and beyond it were curtains haphazardly hung up from the overhead storage compartments that ran down both aisles. Clem could also see a small door at the very back on the left, probably a bathroom. Beyond that, she couldn't see much else beyond one of the curtained areas being just open enough to reveal a small stack of clothes on a very small mattress sitting on the ground.

"It's bad enough Horatio went behind our backs and talked to her over the radio, but why would you of all people bring her back?" Clem turned her attention to a woman standing near the front of the bus, who she assumed was Sabriya. She wore a dark red scarf that covered her entire head and hung down in front of her shirt. She also had sharp brown eyes glaring intensely at Eskiya. Clem couldn't be sure how old she was, but she'd estimate she was older than Patty at least.

"Like I said, I have my reasons." Eskiya didn't have his bandana covering his face now, revealing him to be a middle-aged man with a short dark beard with gray strains mixed that matched his hair. Examining him closely, Clem found it unnerving how hard it was to guess what he was thinking. The woman was clearly very angry but his expression was oddly blank, and for a moment Clem wondered if he looked like that because of her or because of the others.

"Well, you gonna share your reasons with the rest of the class?" said the man in the driver's seat as he shut off the engine. "Usually you're ragging me and Horatio about taking too many unnecessary chances." The man got up from his seat and joined the others. "Now you to do this? What gives?"
Clem assumed this was Dilawar. He looked to be about the same age as Sabriya, had short dark hair, wore a severely stained white shirt under a denim jacket that matched his jeans. Clem found the casual tone of his voice and the concerned look in his eyes reassuring, but only ever so slightly. Despite talking about Clem, none of these people were actually paying any attention to her, as if she didn't exist.

"Well, answer us!" demanded Sabriya.

"This concerns all of us," answered Eskiya. "We should wait for Horatio."

"I'm coming already!" Clem heard a distant voice call followed shortly by footsteps. "The rest of you might not care about—holy shit she's a kid!" Horatio was a clean-shaven short man with dark skin who immediately looked at Clem with an odd mixture of shock, concern and even a hint of outrage. "How old is she?" Horatio asked Eskiya with far more than a hint of outrage.

"I didn't ask," he answered.

"Of course you didn't," said Horatio in utter disgust. "None of you wanted to think about who was on that other end of the radio, that's why you all ignored her."

"We had no idea it was a child," argued Sabriya, the confidence in her voice fading slightly when she said 'child'.

"Why would you, you refused to talk to her!"

"Jesus Ray, none of us are exactly eager to chat after last night, yourself included," argued Dilawar in a forceful tone. "You can't blame Sab for being suspicious of some mysterious broadcast on the radio the next morning."

"We're hanging on by less than a thread, and you put us all at risk just to sate your conscience," accused Sabriya

"And I'd do it again." Clem realized Horatio was the first voice she had heard over the radio, before Eskiya took over the conversation.

"Horatio," said Eskiya. "We—"

"I don't even want to hear it from you," dismissed Horatio as he turned away from the group. "You're the one person I wouldn't doubt being suspicious of a child."

"My suspicions are well-founded," said Eskiya as Horatio ignored him and knelt down in from of Clem.

"Are you hurt?" The overwhelming concern in his voice and eyes as Horatio looked directly at her almost startled Clem. "It's okay, I'm a doctor." Clem couldn't help but be suspicious of Horatio, thinking this sounded too good to be true. "Just tell me, and—"

"They said they were afraid of being killed by people wearing strange masks." Eskiya's proclamation caused the room to become deathly silent. Everyone, Horatio included, looked at him in disbelief, an anxious fear now gripping each of their faces, Eskiya's included.

"So that's why you brought her back…" concluded Horatio.

"He would have been crazy not to," insisted Sabriya.

"Well," said Dilawar as he looked at Clem suddenly. "What—"

"Let me handle this." Horatio moved aside and Eskiya knelt down to look Clem in the eyes. She found his piercing stare intimidating and what little lingering hope Clem had nursed about him having good intentions was hastily put to rest. "Who are the people in strange masks?"

"Whuh… why do you want to know?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Answer him," dictated Sabriya in a harsh voice.

Clem was afraid whatever she would say would be wrong and they'd throw her out of the bus, if not worse. But saying nothing guaranteed she'd be abandoned, and she didn't feel like she was in a position to bargain what little information she had for better treatment, so she took a breath and tried to choose her next words wisely.

"I don't know who they are." Clem reasoned it best to speak truthfully but broadly, hoping these people's reactions would tell her something in return. They could have been attacked by the Vaquero like her, or they could be working with them for all she knew. "I just know they attacked me."

"Why?" asked Dilawar, sounding genuinely curious.

"I don't know," said Clem. "First time I ever saw them, they were just on this overpass, and one of them shot at me… nearly killed me."

"First time?" repeated Eskiya. "You've encountered these masked people more than once?"

"Yeah… they get around."

"Shit," cursed Sabriya.

"And you really can't think of any reason they attacked you?" asked Horatio. "They just… what, attacked you for no reason?"

"Eat air Horatio," snapped Sabriya.

"I didn't do anything to them, and they shot at me," stated Clem. "And when we tried to drive away, they chased us down, shot my RV full of holes, destroyed the only home we had left, and forced us to run for our lives."

"Oh shit," said Dilawar. "They did all that?"

"Yeah, and more," answered Clem.

"I fucking told you Horatio!" yelled Sabriya.

"I just—"

"They attacked unprovoked, and you called me a liar!"

"I did not call you a liar!"

"Quiet!" Eskiya rubbed his nose for a second, then looked Clem in the eye again. His intimidating stare had morphed into a look of minor desperation, like he knew Clem was the only person in the world with answers; she just hoped they were good enough to satisfy him. "Tell me… what made these masks strange?" He briefly moved away and returned carrying Clem's gas mask. He knelt down and gently tossed it into her lap. "Did they look like your mask?"

Clem studied the others after he said that, but all three of them seemed to be thinking the same thing; they desperately wanted to know what Clem had to say.

"No," she answered. "They have these big helmets that cover all their head. They're not gas masks, they don't even have a mouth hole or anything." Looking around, Clem could see everyone was hanging on her every word.

"What else can you tell us?" asked Eskiya.

"Not much. Just that they wear them and… they paint them."

"Paint them how?" asked Sabriya.

"Um, one side gold, the other blue," recalled Clem. "I uh… I don't know what it means." Clem watched as the four of them looked at each other, consulting one another without words. "You've seen them too, haven't you?"

Eskiya gave Sabriya a look, and she gave him a reluctant nod. He walked to the back of the bus and came back carrying something in his hand. He held it out for Clem to see, a helmet with one side painted gold and one side painted blue. If not for the paint being uneven in a few places, she could swear it was the same one she saw on the Vaquero trapped under Simon's RV.

"Where did you get that?" asked Clem, the very sight of the mask filling her with dread.

"Late last night we were attacked by people wearing these," said Sabriya, her words suddenly sounding like accusations. "Whatever you know about these people, you need to tell us."

"They're called the Vaquero," informed Clem.

"How do you know that?" asked Eskiya.

"I saw it painted on the side of one of their vehicles," she said.

"So you don't know," concluded Eskiya.

"It's what I call them, and they've never stopped to tell me what they're called anytime they attacked me.

"How many times have you've been attacked by these people?" asked Dilawar.

"Twice, no… three times," recalled Clem. "We were staying in a town in Colorado and wanted to go to Denver to get supplies, and we ran right into one of their vehicles. They chased us down, run us off the road, again, and we had to get away with bikes while… while one of us stayed behind to slow them down."

"Stayed behind?" repeated Horatio. "So… you've lost someone to these people?"

"Yeah," said Clem, stifling an urge to cry. "Before that we were hiding out in a town and one of their cars was driving around, looking for us. We got lucky and they didn't see us that time though."

"Why were they looking for you?" asked Eskiya. "What did they want from you?"

"To kill us," said Clem, shrugging as much as she could while handcuffed. "Probably for fighting back the first time we saw them, but then we wouldn't have done that if they hadn't tried to kill us then."

"It… it can't be that simple," reasoned Horatio. "There has to be some reason they attacked."

"Well I don't know what it is beyond wanting me and probably everyone else dead," retorted Clem.

"You mentioned Colorado," said Eskiya. "Is that where the other attacks happened?"

"No, those were both here."

"Here?" exclaimed Sabriya.

"I mean in Wyoming," clarified Clem. "First time we saw them was in Cheyenne."

"Cheyenne?" repeated Eskiya. "Where exactly in Wyoming is that?"

"It's on the other side of the state," informed Dilawar, sounding distressed. "I remember seeing it on the atlas."

"So they're what… all over Wyoming?" asked Sabriya.

"And Colorado," reminded Horatio.

"They do get around," sighed Dilawar.

"What else can you tell us?" asked Eskiya. "How many of these… Vaquero are there?"

"I… don't really know," admitted Clem.

"Two? Four? Eight?"

"I saw at least six of them at once in Colorado, and they probably had a couple more in the race car, so that makes eight, at least."

"What's this race car you mentioned?" asked Eskiya.

"It's just this dumb looking little car, but it's really fast and tried to ram us off the road once."

"A scouting vehicle," concluded Eskiya.

"They've got a bunch of vehicles," informed Clem. "They got that car, a couple of semi-trucks, a school bus, and a fire truck."

"They have a fire engine?" asked Dilawar.

"Yeah, why?"

"God damnit, I told you guys we should have found one," Dilawar said to the others. "These people are probably using the pumps on it to stockpile water. If you just listened to me then—"

"Not the time Dil," insisted Sabriya through her teeth.

"A fire truck as a portable water reservoir, a fast vehicle used for scouting and intercepting other people on the road, and two semi-trucks," listed Eskiya. "Tell me, did the trucks have trailers as well?"

"They did," said Clem. "One had those big box trailers you see on a lot of trucks, the other was a big flat trailer with another vehicle on the back."

"Another vehicle?" asked Sabriya in disbelief.

"What kind of vehicle?"

"I don't know, I didn't get a good look at it," said Clem. "Maybe a tractor or something?"

"A piece of industrial machinery, maybe for breaching barricades?" suggested Eskiya.

"Could be, I don't know."

"And a semitrailer could probably house a dozen people, at least," concluded Eskiya. "We're looking at a highly organized raiding party."

"We're jumping to conclusions," said Horatio. "We don't know they're raiders."

"Oh we don't?" refuted Sabriya. "What she's telling us confirms everything we've been telling you since last night."

"She's confirmed this group has attacked other people, but we still don't know why they're doing it."

"What does it even matter?" challenged Sabriya. "They attacked us and we have the right to defend themselves, end of discussion."

"Is that what you used to tell yourself before things changed?" Sabriya's eyes burst open in anger upon hearing that. "You ever think those kids you were shooting at were just defending themselves from—"

"You fucking—"

"Hey, enough!" yelled Dilawar as he forced himself between Horatio and Sabriya as the latter tried to charge forward.

"You always do this!" accused Sabriya as Dilawar was forced to hold her back. "It's so easy for you to judge me while I'm doing the dirty work needed to keep you safe!"

"Is that what you were doing when you had me chained to a bed for three days?"

"I'll fucking kill you!"

"I believe it."

"I said enough!" insisted Dilawar as he shoved Sabriya back before looking over his shoulder at Horatio. "Ray, the last thing any of us need right now is for you to being starting shit for no reason!"

"It's not for no reason," he said.

"Then what then?" asked Dilawar.

"It's because he's a coward who'd sooner let killers slit all our throats then fight back," accused Sabriya.

"It's because of the school bus," said Horatio. "I can't hear that and not think kids are involved with these people somehow."

"You don't know that," said Dilawar. "For all we know, one of these people could have been a bus driver and that's just what he had on hand when shit hit the fan."

"Or maybe they're robbing and killing people to feed their kids," added Sabriya, still fuming with anger. "Is that it? You think it's okay for them to kill us if they've got kids to feed while they're doing it?"

"At least he'd be one person who cares about kids then…" Clem mumbled under her breath.

"I didn't say anything like that," retorted Horatio through his teeth. "I'm just… trying to figure this out."

"They use the school bus to drop off a bunch of people when they attack," informed Clem, tired of the group's bickering.

"You've seen this?" asked Horatio, almost accusing her.

"Yes," she stated, annoyed by this constant questioning.

"A troop transport," concluded Eskiya. "Or portable barracks. In either case, another tool in their arsenal."

"Satisfied Ray?" asked Dilawar.

"No," he answered, sounding conflicted. "Why would they pick a school bus of all things?"

"Like I said, maybe one of them used to drive it before the end," suggested Dilawar. "Maybe it was the only thing they could get running?"

"The only thing after the car, fire engine, two semi-trucks, and whatever vehicle was on the back of one of them you mean?"

"We don't have time for this! For all we know, those people are on their way right now!" Sabriya's declaration brought a tense hush over the room. "All that matters right now is our next course of action, and in light of what this girl has told us about—"

"No," said Horatio. "I refuse to accept that's the only choice."

"It is the only way to keep us safe," dictated Sabriya.

"I don't believe that, and I don't you think really believe that either," accused Horatio. "I think you just want revenge."

"What if she does?" challenged Dilawar. "Is she wrong?"

"Jesus Dil, you agreed with me this morning," said Horatio.

"Yeah, when I thought it was more important to find out what we were dealing with first," said Dilawar before looking at Clem. "We've gotten a lot of new information since then, and I'm not feeling too charitable at this point."

"Why don't we ask her what to do?" suggested Eskiya. "She seems to be an expert on these… Vaquero is it?"

"I'm… I'm not an expert," said Clem. "I—"

"Just keep running into them, and surviving somehow." Clem scowled as Sabriya's tone made her suspicions apparent. "How is it a child survived so many brushes with these murderous bandits?"

"You are not suggesting—"

"Is it not suspicious?" Sabriya said over Horatio. "A little girl, on our own, against an entire group of bandits?"

"I'm not on my own," corrected an angry Clem.

"You were just talking about a school bus," reminded Dilawar. "Maybe she's ones of these bastards' kids or something."

"Or just simply one of them," suggested Eskiya. "Perhaps they employ children as spies."

"I'm not one of them!" yelled Clem to no avail.

"You're talking crazy," accused Horatio.

"It happens all the time in war zones," refuted Sabriya. "They use kids are as spies, or soldiers, or suicide bombers!"

"Jesus Sabriya, she's just a kid," reminded Horatio.

"A heavily armed kid," corrected Eskiya. "They had a knife, a pistol and a hand grenade on them when I searched them."

"A grenade?" repeated Sabriya in shock. "Where—"

"I put it all in her backpack." Eskiya gestured to the row of seats in front of the one Clem was cuffed to.

"Jesus, when where you going to tell us about that?" asked Sabriya.

"I just did," he shrugged.

"Next time I'm just going to handle this myself," mumbled Sabriya. "Still, that proves it."

"Proves what?" asked a furious Clem.

"No, it doesn't make sense when you think about it," said Dilawar, ignoring Clem's outburst. "If she were a spy she would have played dumb when we asked her about the masked people, not told us how horrible they are."

"It could be a ruse to throw us off," suggested Eskiya. "She didn't come outright and tell me about these masked people when I met her, only when I was leaving did she mention it as part of a performance to make me feel sorry for her."

"Performance?" repeated an indignant Clem in disbelief.

"That'd be a pretty elaborate ruse," said Dilawar.

"I've seen more elaborate ones," said Eskiya. "And these are desperate times, so—"

"Hey!" screamed Clem as loud as she could, forcing everyone to look at her. "I wasn't performing, this isn't a ruse, I'm not a spy, and if there was a Vaquero here I'd kill him right in front you just to prove it!"

Clem's declaration was met with stunned silence. Everyone seemed to be looking at each other for answers. "Well?" said Clem, annoyed at their sudden timidness. "Say something!"

"Did you mean that?" asked Sabriya.

"Mean what?" asked Clem.

"You'd kill one of these bandits?"

"I already have before," declared Clem. "And I'd do it again too, because I know they'd kill me if they ever got the chance."

Sabriya looked to Eskiya, who looked to Dilawar, who looked to Horatio.

"No, you can't—"

"She said it," shrugged Dilawar.

"Dil," said Sabriya. "Go with Eskiya and bring him up front."

"Bring who?" asked Clem as Eskiya and Dilawar headed to the back of the bus.

Horatio sighed deeply, then knelt down in front of Clem. "Last night, we were attacked."

"Yeah, I got that part," retorted Clem. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Well… one of our attackers forced themselves onto the bus as were driving away. Dil managed to knock him out and…" Clem heard three sets of footsteps approaching from the back of the bus. "We've been debating what we should do with him."

Clem watched in disbelief as Dilawar and Eskiya marched someone new towards the front of the bus. He wore the same slick leather jacket as the Vaquero Clem saw in Colorado. As he was forced to his knees, he kept trying to elbow Eskiya only for Dilawar to wrap his arm under the man's throat. Clem watched as Eskiya removed another pair of handcuffs from his coat and used it to chain the cuffs already on the man to the seat farthest from Clem.

Looking at him, Clem realized this was the first time she'd ever actually see the face of any of the Vaquero. He was a young man, probably younger than Dilawar. He had a shaved head and kept pulling against his restraints while making threatening gestures with his eyes towards his captors. Clem also noticed his right eye was severely bruised and these people had tied a gag around his mouth. All he could say was some incredibly muffled words that Clem couldn't even begin to decipher.

"Do you know this person?" It took a second for Clem to realize Eskiya was talking to her again.

"No," she answered as she looked at the Vaquero. "I… I've never seen one of them up close before… or without their mask."

"She could be lying," said Sabriya.

"I don't think so," said Eskiya as he stood up. "And I don't think they recognize each other."

Those words caused Clem to look over at the Vaquero, and she was frightened to see he was staring at her. The strange thing was, a lot of the hostility that was just in his eyes had seemingly disappeared, and he looked at Clem with a sad curiosity for a few seconds before turning back to his captors and futility pulling against his restraints.

"We need a decision," said Eskiya in a quiet voice as he ushered the others to follow him to the front of the bus. "And… I think she provided one just now."

"You can't be serious," whispered Horatio. "She… Sabriya was accusing her of being a spy. She was just trying to make her stop."

"Yeah," said Sabriya. "And I would stop if she did that."

"You want to ask a kid to execute a man?" said Horatio. "That's sick."

Clem turned away from the group as their words made her feel sick.

"Someone has to do it," reasoned Eskiya. "We can't let them go after what we've been told." Clem noticed the Vaquero wasn't looking at the group either, he was staring at the floor in front of Clem instead.

"No, we—"

"Driving him out to the middle of nowhere isn't a solution anymore Ray." Looking down, Clem realized what the Vaquero was staring at; her gas mask. "It was one thing when we thought it was just a couple of guys shooting at us, but an entire raiding party?" The Vaquero suddenly craned his head up and looked right at Clem, his eyes growing wide with shock as if he was staring at a ghost; it unnerved her. "We let him go and it's as good as giving his people an inside line on how to take us out."

"But—" His eyes then suddenly twisted from a look of bewilderment to one of such anger that even without words Clem perfectly understood his murderous intent, and it terrified her.

"You're the only one left arguing for his life; you're outvoted." Sitting there, watching him thrash against his restraints with no success, Clem found her fear turning to anger.

"What about what he knows? Eskiya, you said you could get him to talk. If you could manage that, maybe we can figure out who these people really are." This asshole was with the people who had ruined what little life Clem had left. He was one of the killers who had stalked them across state lines. For all she knew, he murdered Simon himself, and he now was helplessly tied up right in front of her.

"With time, I could get anyone to talk," asserted Eskiya. "But—"

"We don't have time."

Clem reached for the paper clip, praying Eskiya hadn't discovered it. It was hard to move her right hand in place while the cuffs were looped around the legs of the seat, but she forced her wrists to bend more than she probably should have.

"Fine, but don't make her do it!" argued Horatio as Clem felt the paper clip in her fingertips; he missed it. "How are we even discussing this?"

"I don't see a dilemma," stated Eskiya. "You don't obviously don't want to leave the girl behind, and we don't want to take them with us if they're with our attackers, and obviously we can't let the one person we do know with them go." Clem hadn't tried picking the lock on handcuffs in a long time, and being chained to the legs of a seat added an extra degree of difficulty. But before long, Clem felt the end of the clip disappear into what could only be the left cuff's keyhole. "This seems like the obvious solution for everyone."

"And she's the one who suggested it," said Sabriya as Clem turned the paper clip in the lock, the muscle memory in her hand acting without her input.

"In desperation!" repeated Horatio as Clem heard a loud click. "I can't believe the three of you." Carefully, Clem pulled on the left cuff; it was loose now.

"I don't like it myself, but…" As Clem discreetly placed the paper clip back on her belt, the Vaquero's expression began to change. His anger gradually morphed in a confused curiosity, followed by an unbridled panic as Clem pulled her hands out from under the seat. He started mumbling loudly, but the gag meant none of the people in the front could hear him over their conservation. "She sounded like she hated these people, and with good reason, so, if she wants to kill one of them…"

"And she said she has killed them before," added Sabriya as Clem inched forward. Peeking past the row, she immediately spotted her backpack lying on the seat to her right.

"They also told me they had killed other people," noted Eskiya as Clem very slowly pulled open her backpack; her gun was sitting right on top. "They're not an ordinary child, we shouldn't treat them like one." Clem briefly looked aside, fearful the others would notice her any second.

"That's not what you're saying." None of them were even looking in her direction, she might as well have been invisible to these people. "You're saying let's not treat her like a child at all."

"Well, what if we were?" With her gun in hand, Clem marched right back to where the Vaquero was sitting. He was scared for his life and shaking in terror as she raised her pistol. "Like Eskiya said, it's desperate times, and we're forced to take desperate measures just to stay alive… all of us."

Clem pulled the trigger and there was a deafening bang as the kick from the gun sent a shooting pain through her left hand. The bullet tore off the top of the Vaquero's head in a flash, sending blood and brain matter spilling onto the floor and even the wall behind him. All his desperation and panic disappeared as his lifeless body awkwardly twisted backwards, still chained in place to the seat. Only then did Clem hear the cacophony of yells behind her, followed by a quick succession of shouts.

"Everyone down!"

"I don't—oh shit, she's loose!"

"How the hell—"

"They have a gun!" Clem let her pistol fall from her grip and remained perfectly still. Almost immediately she felt herself being tackled to the ground and flinched in pain as her wounded hand was forcibly twisted back into the open cuff. A strong arm grabbed her by the collar and pulled her off the floor. She found herself face to face with Eskiya, who looked at her in bewilderment, not anger.

"How… how did you get your handcuffs off?" His voice was practically shaking with fear and confusion as he stared at Clem.

"Holy shit," said Sabriya as she aimed a rifle at Clem while studying the bloody mess on the floor. "Did you—"

"I did what I had to." Clem looked Sabriya in the eyes suddenly; she was trembling. "That's how I survived."

"You… you didn't tighten her handcuffs enough!" Sabriya yelled to Eskiya. "Did you?"

"I did!" he insisted.

"It didn't look like you did to me!" yelled Dilawar. "She must have slipped right out of them."

"Jesus, you could have gotten us all killed!"

"She… she must have gotten them off some other way!" insisted Eskiya, sounding uncertain as he turned away from Clem.

"How?" challenged Sabriya.

"I… I don't know." All four of them were panicked to an extent, but only Eskiya looked lost, his cool composure gone now. Clem might have pitied him as his eyes darted about, looking for an explanation, but she didn't feel like he was deserving of any pity after what he had just put her through.

"Oh God…" Horatio leaned down in front of the dead Vaquero. He briefly studied the body, then sighed before slowly turning to Clem. "Why?" he asked, a strange sadness in the way he said that.

"Because they told me to," answered Clem as she looked past Horatio at the other three. "That was the only way you were going to let me stay here, right?"

"Oh, you are not staying here!" declared Sabriya. "You could kill us all in our sleep!"

"If I wanted to kill you I could have just pulled the pin on the grenade in my backpack and left it at your feet just now," retorted Clem in a cold voice. "I didn't because I still need help for my friend and our baby."

"Wait, what?" said Horatio.

"What baby?" asked Sabriya, sounding even more confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Me and my friend take care of a baby boy… he's not even two yet."

"Are… are you serious?" asked Dilawar in disbelief.

"I'm not an ordinary child," repeated Clem derisively. "And…" Clem turned to Horatio. "Are you a real doctor?"

"Real enough, why?"

"My friend… she's pregnant."

"What?" said Sabriya, her already wide-eyed confusion twisting into utter bewilderment. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I told him all about it." Clem looked at Eskiya, who appeared utterly detached from reality right now. Sabriya turned to Eskiya, then suddenly charged forward. She grabbed the man by the collar and forced him against the wall with a loud thud.

"She's telling the truth, isn't she!" Sabriya said through her teeth.

"I… I didn't think it was relevant," admitted Eskiya in a weak voice, as if he regretted saying that.

"Sab!"

"You don't decide what's relevant!"

"Does it matter?" Sabriya looked over at Clem. "Would you have cared if I told you myself a minute ago?"

"Of course I would," insisted Sabriya. "I—"

"No you wouldn't," said Clem. "You'd just make up some reason to not believe me, just like you did a second ago when I told you I'm not one of the Vaquero. I'm making it up because I'm a spy, or a soldier, or a suicide bomber. You didn't care. You never even asked me what my name is."

Those words clearly wounded Sabriya, who only turned away in shame in response.

"What is your name?" asked Horatio.

"Clementine," she answered. "And I told you people everything I know and I did everything you said all because my best friend and our baby need help… help I can't give them anymore." Saying that out loud forced Clem to consider how desperate she really was. "If any of you actually care about anything but yourselves, why don't you take me back to them already…" The righteous anger in Clem's voice faded as she thought about her family. "They're… they're probably both scared out of their minds because I've been gone so long."

Everyone stared at Clem, seemingly in shock at what just happened. Sabriya looked at her hands, as if she only just now realized they were nearly at Eskiya's throat, while Eskiya himself just stared silently at the floor.

"What's done is done," said Sabriya with a heavy sigh as she unhanded Eskiya. "Take her handcuffs off."

"You can't be serious," he said.

"Like she said, if she wanted to kill us she would have done it when our backs were turned."

"But—"

"Search her for weapons before you do, and thoroughly this time," ordered Sabriya in a harsher tone. "Then lock up anything dangerous she has in the luggage compartment outside."

Eskiya looked at Sabriya in disbelief, then dutifully moved towards Clem.

"Dil… take care of the body."

"Yeah, I'll… I'll deal with it."

"And Horatio, why don't you talk to our… new guest," said Sabriya. "I suspect she doesn't want to talk anymore with the rest of us."

"I'll… keep her company."

Eskiya searched Clem for weapons again, this time much slower. He squeezed her limbs tighter and peeled back her sleeves and socks in search of anything he missed. Clem was terrified he was going to ask her to undress any moment as well as being fearful he'd discover the paperclip into her belt loop; neither happened. Instead, he gave her one final odd look, like he didn't know what to think of her, then finally removed her handcuffs.

As Clem was rubbing her left hand, trying to ease the soreness that even the painkiller couldn't numb entirely, she watched as Dilawar removed the cuffs on the dead Vaquero next. His body slumped onto the ground and more blood spilled out onto the floor.

"We should bury him," realized Horatio.

"Ray…"

"It's the least we can do," he insisted.

"He—"

"I know what he did… still doesn't feel right just to leave him to rot on the side of the road."

"Leaving his body on the road might as well be a sign to his comrades," said Sabriya. "We should find somewhere out of sight to put him."

"There's not enough time to bury him, but…" Clem suddenly felt her heart beating against her chest as she stared at the man she just shot. "You could just find somewhere quiet and out of the way to layout his body. That's what I di… would do."

"Yeah, that sounds… respectful." Dil looked over at Horatio. "That good for you?"

"Yeah, that's fine," he said with a nod. "I just didn't like the idea of tossing him into a ditch on the side of the road, like a piece of trash."

"Even though that's probably what he would have done to all of us," growled Sabriya. "It's probably what they did to…" She turned away from the group suddenly and headed for the driver's seat. "After we find a place for his body, we'll pick up your friend and your baby," she explained from the cab. "Do you have a way of contacting them?"

"Yeah, my radio," said Clem as she pulled it off her belt and switched it back on. "Just go west, and I'll start calling for her."

Clem felt her hands shaking as she sat down on the ground. She watched as Dilawar dragged a sheet from the back and carefully laid out the Vaquero on it. The righteous fury she felt just as she pulled the trigger was gone, replaced with guilt and weariness. Even though she hated the Vaquero, seeing one's face, the fear on it before she killed him, and that horrible look of confusion terror frozen on his lifeless face was hard to bear witness to.

"Hey." Clem saw Horatio looking down at her. "Are you okay?"

"What do you care?" mumbled Clem as she turned away.

"I just watched you shoot someone because you were afraid of the others kicking you out," he said, his voice free of judgement. "I—"

"If you really care then just stop talking," insisted Clem. "Because I don't want to talk about this. In fact, I don't want you even mentioning in front of my friend when we pick her up, okay? If you really care then you won't say anything. Sarah has enough to worry about without telling her… all this."

Horatio just looked at Clem for a moment. "All right," he said. "And I'll tell the others not to mention it either."

"Really?" asked Clem, surprised by his response.

"Yeah, you've… obviously been through a lot," he said. "It makes sense you don't want to process this right now, best wait until later when, hopefully, things are a little better and you feel like talking."

"And if I don't feel like talking, even then?" challenged Clem.

"I'm not gonna make you," said Horatio. "But if it ever bothers you, and you want to talk to someone about it, I'll be right here."

"Thanks," said Clem, genuinely surprised by Horatio's thoughtfulness.

"Clementine, right?"

"Yeah," she said.

"I'm Horatio."

"I know, I heard."

"And, you said Sarah?" Clem nodded. "Is she the one who's pregnant?"

"Yeah… like I said, she's got a lot to worry about," repeated Clem.

"I understand," said Horatio. "Was she the one I heard on the radio, before you I mean?"

"Yeah." Clem took a deep breath. "I guess you're to thank for answering huh? The rest of them just listened to her crying and did nothing?"

"She was crying?" asked Horatio.

"You didn't notice?"

"The message was mostly garbled static. I could only make a few words," he explained. "Sabriya figured it was our attackers trying to communicate with each other. It wasn't until I heard your voice was it clear enough to make out what you were saying."

"Oh…" Clem hadn't thought of that. Seeing Sarah plea for help in person made it easy to forget her message could be lost over the radio. "If you didn't hear her that well, why did you answer?"

"There aren't many people left in the world these days," said Horatio. "Felt like a mistake ignoring one of them."

"It's dangerous meeting new people these days," said Clem.

"So is being alone." Clem groaned to herself; she couldn't argue with that. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"I don't know," said Clem as she shook her head. "I just want to get back to Sarah already."

"We'll be on our way soon," said Horatio. "Anything else?"

"My bike?" she said with a shrug. "I had to leave it in the middle of the road earlier."

"I'm not gonna let them kick you out," assured Horatio. "And truth be told, I don't think they'd do that at this point."

"Still, I'd feel better if I had it," confessed Clem.

"I'll tell Sabriya to keep an eye out for it."

"Other than that, I just want to lay down for a while."

"There's an empty bed in the back you can use," said Horatio as he stood up. "But, can I ask you one last thing?"

"What?"

"What happened to your hand?" Clem sighed to herself as she looked at her left hand. Even with the glove on the missing fingers were obvious. "Did… did these Vaquero people do that to you?"

"In a way," she said with a shrug. "But they didn't do it themselves."

"Who then?"

"The dead." Clem studied the odd mix of dedication and concern on Horatio's face. He had this look in his eyes that almost spoke to Clem of his desire to protect her. It'd be comforting if she thought he had any real power to do that. "They're gonna win in the end."

"The Vaquero?"

"The dead," clarified Clem. "In the end, the dead always win, because the living can't get their shit together."

Horatio didn't have anything to say in response to that, and things moved quickly as Clem's adrenaline faded. Horatio led her to the back of the bus and into one of the little curtained off areas. There was a mattress on the floor that wasn't particularly comfortable and took up most of the floor space, but it was better than nothing. Clem didn't even ask about the dried bloodstains that someone had clearly tried and failed to scrub out.

They were on the road not long after that, and it felt strange to be moving again while just resting peacefully at the same time. They had been forced to bike so far across the region she had given up hope of ever finding a working vehicle with a motor again. At least not one that wasn't full of people trying to kill her. Although Clem was still relieved when the bus stopped and she saw Eskiya bring her bike in, even if she was too tired to use it right now.

Not long after that, Sabriya drove them off the main road for a short time until they found a place for the dead Vaquero. Clem didn't watch as Dilawar and Eskiya carried the body out, but she did go over to the window to see what they did with it. They had stopped by a small field away from the main road. They carefully lowered the body into a natural dip in the land. Dilawar didn't seem satisfied with this and went to pick some of the dried grass and weeds out of the ground, until he had enough to obscure the body, if only slightly. It wasn't exactly a burial, but it was better than many got these days.

After that, Clem started calling Sarah with the radio, over and over again until she finally picked up. "Clem?" she said, her voiced hoarse and cracked.

"Yeah Sarah, it's… it's me," Clem said, beating back tears of happiness as she spoke. "I'm okay."

"Oh thank God," answered Sarah, practically weeping into the radio.

"And that's not all," spoke a weary Clem. "I found some help."

"You did?" asked Sarah, her strained voice squeaking in surprise.

"Yeah, I'm gonna come out to meet you along with a couple of new people. Then we're gonna get in their bus and leave this place."

"They… they have a bus, and it works?" Sarah sounded like she was going to cry, even more so. "I'm… I'm in a cemetery, next to that big tunnel on the interstate you mentioned."

"You're not back at the house with Omid?"

"No, I'm… I'm so sorry." Clem could hear Sarah crying now. "I tried… but my feet hurt so bad and I couldn't breathe and—"

"It's okay."

"And I just couldn't stay on the bike any longer," continued Sarah, who couldn't hear Clem until she finished talking.

"It's okay," repeated Clem after she heard the click of the radio switching off. "We'll come get you in a minute, then we'll get Omid."

"Okay," she answered. "I'm in this building near the entrance. I think it's a tool shed but I don't know. I left my bike outside so it should be easy to spot."

"We'll be right there." Clem sat up and saw Horatio sitting across from her.

"Sabriya heard her I'm sure," he said. "Don't worry, we'll be there soon."

"Good," said Clem as she stood up, her body aching as it did.

"You can just stay in here and rest," suggested Horatio. "I'll go out to meet her."

"It needs to be me; she doesn't know any of you people," mumbled Clem as walked past him. "I don't know any of you," Clem said to herself as she walked towards the front of the bus. She passed Dilawar, who was trying to scrub the remaining blood off the seat the Vaquero had been chained to. He had a look of resigned wearinesses on his face that felt all too familiar to Clem. Now that the tension had passed, Clem couldn't help thinking these people looked almost as beatdown as she felt; she still didn't trust them.

"This looks like it," said Sabriya as she pulled the bus to a stop. "I see the toolshed she mentioned, and the bike. Eskiya, go check her for weapons and then bring her in."

"I'm going too," insisted Clem.

"No," said Sabriya as she looked over her shoulder. "Just—"

"I'm going," repeated Clem. "I don't trust him not to hurt Sarah."

"I won't hurt her," assured Eskiya. "I—

"You know what?" said Sabriya. "Go, and if he does anything you can tell me about when you get back."

The doors of the bus slid open and Clem hesitated to get out. She looked over at Eskiya, waiting for him to go first, but he wouldn't move. Clem scowled at him, then hurried down the steps and off the bus. She was half-expecting the door to slam shut behind her, but that didn't happen until after she heard Eskiya coming up behind her. Clem took some small comfort in knowing if the others abandoned her now, they'd abandon Eskiya as well.

Looking over at the cemetery, it was a sorry sight. There were big trees forming a neat exterior around the edges of the lot which probably looked beautiful in spring. In winter they were just brambles attached to trunks and looked as dead as the likely residents. Eyeing a row of gravestones past the entrance, Clem figured she had thought about death enough today and turned her attention to a small square building off to the side.

It was a simple small building with aluminum siding and an almost flat roof. It looked a little big to be a tool shed, but there were no windows and only a single door on the front. The only other thing of interest was a bicycle out front, which was unmistakably Sarah's. Clem hurried over to the door and could hear Eskiya following her. It was eerie how it sounded like he was matching pace with her.

Throwing the door open, Clem's eyes immediately went to the lone light source in the corner. It was a tiny electric lantern, and sitting behind it was Sarah, shivering to herself.

"Sarah!"

"Clem, thank God!" cried Sarah as Clem knelt down and threw her arms around her. Clem had never been so relieved to hold her again than she was right now. "I thought I'd never you again."

"Me too," said Clem. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," she admitted in a pained voice. "But that's nothing new. I—"

Sarah became deathly quiet. Turning her head, Clem could see she was staring up at Eskiya.

"This is one of the people I met," explained Clem. "They're going to let us stay with them, for now at least." Clem glared up at Eskiya. "Right?"

"Of course," he said, as stone-faced as he was when Clem saw him. "But I need to search you first."

"You're not searching her," dictated Clem.

"I—"

"She'll give you her weapons," said Clem. "She doesn't have anything beyond a rifle and my tomahawk."

"I… I have some boning knives in my backpack too," informed Sarah as she gestured to her bag. "You can have them, you can just take my whole backpack. I don't care. I just want to get out of here and back to Omid already."

Eskiya stared at her quietly for a second. "Okay." He walked past Sarah and grabbed her backpack, along with the rifle leaning against the wall.

"Clem, help me stand up."

"Sure."

Sarah leaned a lot harder on Clem than she usually did when she needed help, and she kept doing it as they tried walking to the door together. Eskiya must have noticed since he took Sarah's other arm and helped her move outside and towards the bus.

"Thank you," said Sarah in a tired whisper as she limped over to the stairs. She groaned loudly as she stumbled up the steps before staggering into the first seat. Her face was racked with pain and Clem felt horrible seeing her like this.

"And… my bike," said Sarah between breaths.

"Do we really need—"

"Just get it Eskiya," ordered Sabriya. "I don't want to waste any more time arguing."

Eskiya groaned but hurried back outside. As Sarah gasped for air, Clem noticed Sabriya was staring at her with great concern.

"Good Lord, are you okay?" asked Horatio as he sat down beside Sarah.

"My feet…" said Sarah between breaths as she untied her shoe. "They really hurt." Sarah pulled off her shoe and Clem was shocked to see the bottom of her sock was soaked in blood. "Oh God!" exclaimed Sarah as she looked at her own foot.

"Calm down, it's probably just burst blisters," reasoned Horatio. "Dil, give me a hand moving her to the back."

"Yeah, I got it," said Dilawar as he hurried up to the front. "Just hold onto me," he said as he knelt down.

"You… you people are going to help us, right?"

"Yeah, Ray's a doctor, he'll know what to do." Dil's assurance was met with reluctance as Sarah turned to Clem instead.

"It's okay," assured Clem. "Right?" she said as she looked at Horatio.

"Yeah, just come with us and I'll take a look at what's wrong with your feet." Clem gave Sarah a nod, who did the same to Dilawar. She clung to the man as he struggled to lift Sarah out of the seat, then carried her towards the back.

"Do you have any more bikes?" grumbled Eskiya as he awkwardly forced Sarah's into the bus and wheeled it past the aisle.

"No, we just need to pick up Omid now."

"Is that the baby you mentioned?" asked Sabriya as she turned around in her seat.

"Yeah."

"Why isn't he with one of you?" she asked.

"For that matter," said Eskiya. "Why is your friend out here away from you and your baby?"

"We didn't have a choice!" defended Clem. "And—"

"Just tell me where to go." Sabriya motioned for Clem to join her in the front. "After what you told us, I want to put as much distance between us and these bandits as possible."

"That's what we've been doing," said Clem as she sat down in a chair positioned beside the driver's seat. "Just turn around and there will be a small road on the other side of the interstate that leads into town. Then just stay on that road until it ends."

"Got it." Sabriya started turning the wheel and with it the entire bus. Before long they were heading back into Green River. Clem watched as the small little nothing town came into view, as did the familiar abandoned buildings she passed on her way out this morning. It all just felt like an extension of the cemetery they just left.

"So… we're are we going after this?" Clem asked Sabriya, realizing she had no clue to these people's intended destination.

"Probably west," she said.

"Probably? You don't know?"

"No, I don't," she groaned. "We were attacked east of here, and there's no way we're going north where it's even colder. We were talking about maybe going south but—"

"There's nothing south of here," informed Clem. "We went all the way across Colorado and we didn't see anything."

"You did that on your bikes... in the middle of winter?" she asked, sounding dubious.

"Again, we didn't have a choice," refuted Clem.

"I'm guessing, that's why you… did what you did a minute ago."

Clem couldn't tell if that was an accusation or just a question.

"Mostly," said Clem.

"Mostly?" Sabriya turned to look at Clem. "You said you lost someone to these bastards. Was that the rest of the reason?"

"Maybe," said Clem with a scowl. "Is that a problem?"

"For me? No," she said as she turned away. "It's just… I've never seen a child do something like that before and—"

"I've had to do a lot of things I never thought I would do before," said Clem as she rubbed her head. "If that bothers you, just imagine how it makes me feel."

Sabriya didn't have anything else to say after that. She just kept her eyes on the road and drove in silence until the road turned into a three-way junction.

"Turn right here." Clem kept expecting Sabriya to say something, but she remained quiet. She studied the woman's face for clues but couldn't discern much beyond she was likely deep in thought at the moment. "So… what's gonna happen to us?" asked Clem, nervously breaking the silence. "I mean, are you gonna feed us… or do we have to find our own food, because—"

"I don't know," admitted Sabriya in a quiet voice. "I already had a lot on my mind before last night, now there's a few hundred other things I've gotta figure out." There was a blunt honesty in the way she was speaking now. It wasn't divorced from the strident tone she used earlier but informed by an subtle anxiety underpinning her words, as if she didn't know what to do but had to decide anyway. Clem suspected she may actually know how this woman felt, but hesitated to say anything.

"Look, as long as what you did to that bandit isn't repeated on any of us, you can stay here," conceded Sabriya. "But that's it. We're not exactly in great shape ourselves. So I can't guarantee your safety, or that you'll have enough to eat, or—"

"It's okay, I understand," insisted Clem, hoping she sounded sincere. She waited for Sabriya to respond but she returned to being silent. "Turn left here," instructed Clem. "It's not much further now."

Seeing the trailer park come into view, Clem found herself both excited and anxious. She was happy she was about to be reunited with Omid but frightened of what could have befallen him in their absence. It's possible she had finally found something resembling a home again for him, but whenever it would be a good one or not remained to be seen. Mostly she was just worried what these people would do around him.

"This is it, right?" asked Sabriya as she slowed the bus to a stop in front of the trailer park.

"Yeah."

"Eskiya, go with her, make sure she gets everything she needs for… their baby."

"Right." Eskiya looked at Clem, and she didn't bother saying anything to him. She just hurried out of the bus and headed for the home office on the other side of the lot.

"There's a pot on a grill in the backyard," said Clem as she stepped up to the front door. "Grab it while I get Omid."

She expected him to argue, but he didn't this time. He gave her an odd look, then walked away, leaving Clem to get Omid herself. As she hurried into the bedroom, she dreaded what she was going to find. He could have gotten up and realized they were gone by now. He may have even gotten out of the house. He could have fallen in the stream next to the house because he was thirsty and drowned because they weren't there for him.

Pushing open the bedroom door, she saw the bed appeared undisturbed, and peeling back the layers of blankets, there was a familiar lump in the middle of the covers. Omid was still there, clinging to Elma with the same look of misery on his scrunched up face. In fact, he appeared he hadn't moved an inch since Clem left. In another time, it would be a relief that they could just leave for so long and Omid not even notice, but now it felt like a new reason for concern.

"Omid?" she asked in a quiet voice as she gently shook him. "Omid!" Omid started crying in response. She felt bad about waking him but relieved he appeared no worse than when she left, even if that wasn't very good. He protested Clem's every attempt to dress him in his winter clothing, but just barely. Clem guessed he didn't have much energy left to complain either. Again, in another time she'd be grateful, now it was just worrying.

One thing she couldn't get away from Omid was Elma. He refused to let her go, and after Clem managed to get his jacket on by removing only one arm at a time, she had no need to take it. Wrapping a blanket around Omid, Clem struggled to lift him, her arms shaking as she picked him up. Even while not eating much, he weighed a lot, and it took every bit of Clem's remaining strength to carry him and their meager bag of baby supplies back outside.

Exiting this sorry old home office for the last time, Clem saw Eskiya waiting outside. He had the pot Clem mentioned tucked under his arm, and looked down at Clem, a little bit of curiosity peering out from behind his otherwise expressionless face.

"I… could carry them for you," he offered.

"No," refuted Clem. "I'll carry him." Eskiya had no reaction to that beyond turning around and leading Clem back to the bus, a short walk made longer by how hard it was for Clem to carry Omid. Still, she endured, not even wanting to risk handing Omid over to any of these people. She still didn't trust them, and she was fairly certain they didn't trust her either after what she had done.

Reaching the top step of the bus felt like climbing a small mountain. Taking a breath, Clem noticed the others were all staring at her, or more specifically, staring at Omid bundled up in her arms. Dilawar and Sabriya both looked at him in disbelief, as if Clem had carried some fantastical creature into the bus. Eskiya appeared more curious than anything but there was no denying he was indeed curious, his poker face slipping the more he studied Omid.

"Do… you need a hand with him?" asked Dilawar, breaking the silence.

"No," said Clem, trying to force a mere ounce of strength into her voice.

"Does… he need anything?"

"No, he… well, actually do you have anything to eat?" asked Clem. "He hasn't eaten anything all day."

Dilawar turned to Sabriya, and she sighed loudly. "We have a few canned goods left, and only a few, and we need to make them last until we can find more."

"Sab…"

"But, we can spare one for him, for tonight," she said before turning around. "Dil, I'll leave it to you."

"We don't exactly got much of a selection," he said to Clem. "In fact, we're down to just corn or green beans."

"Corn would be great," professed Clem. "Anything other than fish would be really," she said as she walked past Dilawar. Moving to the back, she discovered Sarah lying on her side on the mattress she saw earlier with Horatio sitting in front of her.

"Hey," said Clem as she knelt down, happy to get off her feet and set Omid down on the mattress. "How… how are you?" she asked as she looked at Sarah's feet. The bottoms of them were covered in crudely made bandages, but the rest of her feet were most disturbing. They looked like they had been overinflated and turned purple in the process.

"As I was telling her, the blood was mostly from blisters like I thought, albeit she had a lot of them," explained Horatio. "But her ankles are extremely swollen, even for someone late into a pregnancy."

"Are… are you gonna be okay?" Clem asked Sarah directly.

"I think so," she said in a weak voice.

"She'll need to stay off her feet, preferably for a week if we could," suggested Horatio, sounding concerned. "Also, judging from the pain she described, it's possible she might have sprained one or both ankles as well, but it's hard to know for certain right now. I… I honestly don't know how you were able to ride a bike today."

"I think I do," said Sarah. "I took a painkiller before we left… I probably wouldn't have made it out of town without one."

"Wait, you've got painkillers?" asked Horatio. "Look, I know you two have been through a lot, but you gotta be careful with—"

"We are," asserted Clem. "We only take them because we need to," she said as she held up her left hand. "And we don't have many left anymore."

Horatio stared at Clem's hand. "Do you want me to look at that for you?" offered Horatio.

"Um…" Clem didn't know how to answer him. "I—"

Omid started whimpering as he tried to break free from Clem's grip. Turning to him, Clem watched as Omid crawled towards Sarah in a hurry. He briefly looked back, then turned away in fright when he saw Horatio, whimpering in terror.

"I'm sorry," said Sarah as she cradled Omid. "Usually Omid likes new people but…" Sarah bit her lip as she stifled a sob. "I guess after all those lurkers, he's just scared of new people now."

"I… I understand," said Horatio as he stood up. "Why don't I just leave you two… three, alone right now?"

"Thank you," said Sarah.

Horatio turned to leave but bumped into Dilawar coming the other way.

"Here." Dilawar knelt down and handed Clem an opened can with a spoon in it. "It ain't much but—"

"We appreciate it." Clem watched as Dilawar briefly looked at Omid, then walked away. Clem leaned out into the aisle, and when she didn't see anyone else approaching pulled back the crudely strung up curtain for a modicum of privacy. Looking down into the can, it appeared only half full, and the corn looked more like yellow gruel than anything, but it was something other than fish.

"Omid," said Clem as he continued to cling to Sarah for safety. "Omid, I've got something for you," said Clem as she fished out a spoonful of corn. "And I think you'll like it." Clem very gently turned Omid's head towards her. He resisted at first, but then he saw the spoon in Clem's hand. "That's right, it's something to eat other than fish." Omid eyed the spoon intently, then looked back up at Clem. "Go ahead, it's—" Omid lurched forward and engulfed the corn so quickly that Clem was afraid he had just bitten into the spoon itself for a second. No sooner had he sucked the spoon clean did he look at it again in disappointment.

"You want more?" asked Clem as she fished more corn out of the can. "We've got—" He didn't even wait for her to finish

"He's eating something," said Sarah, tears in her eyes. "Thank God."

"You want some too?" Clem asked Sarah as she scooped more corn out of the can. "We could—"

"Just give it all to Omid," insisted Sarah. "Before he decides doesn't like corn anymore."

Clem kept feeding Omid, something that brought her no small amount of joy. Before long the can was empty and Clem had to scrap it clean for a final spoonful, which Omid didn't hesitate to eat. Naturally, Omid was disappointed when there was no more food left, but he looked noticeably less miserable than he did this morning.

Looking around, Clem realized he dropped Elma when he crawled away earlier. Setting her in front of Omid, he nearly smiled as he grabbed onto his favorite toy. It was a wondrous sight that chased away the pain of living for Clem, and for Sarah as well judging from the smile on her face. Lying down on the mattress as Sarah coddled Omid in her arms, Clem felt ready for some much-needed rest.

"You okay?" whispered Clem as she inched in close, putting one arm around Omid and another around Sarah's head.

"As much as I can be," said Sarah, a rare bit of relief in her voice. "How about you? Are you okay?"

"As much as I can be," parroted Clem with a weak laugh.

"I… I couldn't hear anything but… I saw what you did in front of that man," whispered Sarah. "Where you grabbed his gun and… pointed it at your own head."

"Oh…"

"How… how did you know he wouldn't just shoot you?" Clem didn't know, but she didn't want to tell Sarah that. "You know what, let's not talk about it," suggested Sarah, likely noticing Clem's reaction. "I… I just wanted you to know I love you, and that I'm sorry."

"For what?" asked Clem. "You didn't do anything wrong." Sarah's eyes drifted away when Clem said that. "It's okay Sarah," said Clem as she caressed Sarah's cheek. "We're still together," said Clem as she ran her fingers through Omid's hair while he snored in Sarah's grip. "Let's enjoy it, while we can." Clem leaned in and kissed Sarah's cheek. She seemed to like that, but there was still that lingering worry on her face.

"It's hard to enjoy anything anymore," admitted Sarah. "Earlier, when I got off my bike, I was breathing so hard that… I was afraid I was going into labor."

"Labor?"

"I was afraid… the baby was going to come right then."

Clem's eyes went wide with shock upon hearing that. "Can… can that happen? I mean… has it been—"

"I've lost track of the dates," admitted Sarah. "I think it's early January, but I could be wrong, and I remember reading about how it's possible to give birth early sometimes." Sarah looked at Clem suddenly. "That man, Horatio, he said he's a doctor. He can help me, right?"

"Yeah, I… I think so."

"Maybe I should talk to him right now," said Sarah as she tried to sit up. "Or maybe—"

"Sarah," pleaded Clem. "Can we… just rest for now?" she asked. "I'm so tired."

Sarah took a deep breath, then lied back down. "Me too," she said in a whisper. "I guess I'll have plenty of time to worry about it tomorrow," she reasoned.

"Yeah," said Clem as she closed her eyes. "Tomorrow."

Clem drifted off to the sound of the road moving beneath them. She was about to fall asleep in a bus full of strangers she just met and didn't trust. She had no idea where they were going, and even if she did Clem would have no idea what to do next. They were still hungry, only slightly less cold, and Sarah had badly hurt herself. In another time this would be a worst-case scenario for Clementine; now it's probably the best she could have realistically hoped for.