Hiccup! Hiccup!

Oh crap…

Hick… Hiccup! Hiccup!

Great – I've been sobbing so much while laying down here that I've contracted a major case of the hiccups. I haven't had these since I was like eight years old; trying to down a bottle of coke just like my uncle could down a bottle of beer. It seemed really easy to do, but I practically choked and got a stern look from my mom. It wasn't pretty.

Anyways, I think that I've ran the tear wells dry within me, which really isn't something that I normally do, but… any normal person with a decent heart would probably do the same. Having everyone you cared about just annihilated within the span of a day? Not to mention having to leave your home after having just gotten used to staying in one spot for a period of time. Wellington was a paradise compared to living out on the road.

Now I know how Lee must have felt before…

Damn it all! I can't even say his name without getting choked up, but thinking about him being dead is even worse.

Gritting my teeth, I yank Sarah's old jacket out of the hole in the canoe and try to wring out the sleeve a little bit. Just like I was taught – keep warm, find food and water, and find shelter. Those are the three things that Lilly taught me when surviving out in the cold; staying safe was just implied.

Jesus… the jacket even smells like Sarah…

Hiccup! Hick!

Being thankful that the hiccups have started to slow down at least, my right arm shivers coldly as the wetness seeps into my skin – clearly it's not going to dry anytime soon. I make sure that the canoe is very visible for Lilly to see (if she's actually still alive, that is), that my pistol is still fastened in my pocket, and that I haven't forgotten anything else. Affirming that I haven't, I make my way through the snow and try to find a suitable place to set up a campfire of sorts. The blizzard's crashing against my face as I move forward; slapping me with the cold reality that I'm completely alone. No more kid's stuff – I need to take care of myself, even though the only reason I'm doing so is per my friends' last requests.

Literally, that's the only thing keeping my will to live in check.

Grateful that the walkers are much slower in the cold, I shoot a couple of them in the head and proceed without incident. That's another advantage that I have over these beasts – I'm a hell of a lot smarter than they are, and I can kill them at a distance. They need to get up close.

They're spread out pretty thin right now, and this would be pretty easy if it weren't for this howling snowstorm. Taking out three more, I keep pushing forward blindly through this hellhole.

I don't know which is worse anymore: slow walkers with a freezing cold blizzard, or normal walkers with warm weather. Both of them seem shitty to me either way… but this whole world is shitty nowadays.

Figuring that that's the last of them for now, I decide to make a left into the forest and make myself a campground of sorts for the night. Cursing my short-sightedness for not accepting Jane's nail file when she offered, I have to resort to other options: meaning either I try to scrape two pieces of wood together (both of which are buried underneath the snow) or grab a rock and try banging it against something (also under the snow).

After about half an hour of digging around, I can officially say that my hands have never felt so numb in my life. They're losing their colour, turning to a pale, frozen texture which reminds me that I have to make this as quickly as possible. Let's see… I've collected at least two dozen branches here, but the only stones I could find were really tiny ones. That'll have to do.

Setting up the firewood into a nice, big pile, I decide that I'll do a trick that Lilly taught Duck and I a long time ago. You take one bigger stick in the middle, and then you quickly spin it back and forth with your hands. This works in two ways: it can help start the fire if you're fast enough, and the constant motion heats up your hands a little bit. I could really use both of those things, to be honest.

Must… get… warm…

Damn… this isn't working at all. Picking up the rock, I instead get to work on striking the stick and hoping that by some miracle I can actually not freeze to death tonight.

After almost having given up on getting something started, I cheer in victory as a spark forms near the bottom of the pile; giving off a nice, warm glow that's just so tempting for me to sit in and burn my clothes. I feel like a cavewoman who literally just discovered fire for the first time – it's firggin' awesome!

The only real problem that I've got right now is food – obviously I'm not going to find a deer out here, not in this weather anyways. The lake itself hasn't frozen due to its size, but I'm not going anywhere with a leaky canoe. And it's not as if I can just use a stick to fish on the side of the bank…

Way to plan ahead, Clementine!

My stomach growls as I continue to warm my hands up and wrap Sarah's jacket more tightly around my small frame. I didn't realize how much taller the girl actually was than me, but that's actually a good thing – more to keep me nice and cozy.

Sighing, I twirl the embers around with a stick and hope that Lilly will come find me soon. I think that some company could be really what I need right now. Lilly always knows what to do in these kinds of situations – that's what I love about her. She was the one who kept Duck and I safe even in the darkest of times, and she was the one who against all odds found me after I had killed Carver and Troy.

I owe everything to her.

My stomach roars again, but I can't quench the unrelenting hunger that sits within me. This shouldn't be too much of a problem – after all, I've gone to bed hungry before, and I'm still here. This is just going to have to be a test of my wills; of whether or not I will break in these conditions.

I check my pistol to make sure it's good and secure, but I've come to a stunning realization: I'm completely out of bullets. How did I not notice this before?! I must have used the last of them on those walkers back there, and didn't even hear the click of an empty gun! This sucks… I'm alone, defenseless and hungry. Not the best combination by any means.

Suddenly, I can hear in the distance the sound of… an engine? Does somebody have a car out here? Could it be – is it actually Lilly coming to find me out here?! She must have seen the smoke and come rushing over! Sweet! We can finally get out of this miserable place and start over fresh! We'll find a smaller place with little to no other people there, and then we can really get a system going. No more wars, no more killing other people – just having to worry about keeping our shelter going strong and keeping the walkers at bay. It'll be just like old times!

Of course, that could just be the hunger and tiredness talking. Don't get your hopes up, Clem.

Besides, how could Lilly have gotten a car?

The sound is getting closer, and the more I think about the more I panic. How could I have been so stupid? There's no way that this person's friendly – my chances of that are slim to none. My only shot at them being a friend is if it's Lilly… everyone else is pretty much dead.

Gotta clear this… douse it with something, Clem! But what the hell do I use… Snow! Yes, snow! That'll work… Just have to get…

Shit… The engine sound's really close by, and the fire's still burning! Just play it cool, Clementine. You're gonna be fine.

You've been through worse before…

Suddenly, the roar of the engine dies and the sound of someone getting off replaces it. My body is frozen – part anticipation, part actual cold. Their footsteps crunch in the snow as the mystery person slowly approaches the campsite. There's no point in trying to get rid of the fire now – they know that I'm here, and I don't have any bullets left to use. Let's hope this person's at least sensible…

"Mind if I sit down with ya, little lady?" Nate smirks, waving slightly as he approaches and sits across from me. He warms his calloused hands up against the fire; his gaze terrifying as I see him over the flames. Nate eerily reminds me of Carver. "Oh baby, that's warm! Nice and toasty, don't ya think? All I need are some graham crackers and some fucking marshmallows."

Not acknowledging his ramblings with a response, I grab the stick and absentmindedly twirl the embers around some more; trying to make it seem like I know what I'm doing.

In actuality though, I'm terrified of what this guy's going to do.

"You can probably already tell that your camp ain't what it used to be," Nate explains, pulling out a cigarette and using the fire to light it. He then sticks it in his mouth and exhales a big cloud of smoke from his lips. "Want a hit of this stuff, kid? I'll warn you now though – once you've gotten addicted, it's mighty hard to quit."

"Why are you here?"

"I think we both know the answer to that, Clementine."

This guy's worse than Carver! He killed everyone in Wellington, made Lee murder our friend, burned people's homes, and now he's travelled on a motorcycle out through a blizzard just to kill me and finish the job. Nate's persistent, I'll give him that. Persistent but crazy.

"You surprised me today, you know that?" he states, not bothering to hide the rifle that he's got tucked nearby. "Had some good friends on you, that's for sure. I was pretty amazed though, how you were willing to let them die for you and all. That's some pretty sick shit even by my standards."

"Shut the fuck up…"

"Whoa! Language, darling! Didn't your parents ever teach you some manners?" Nate remarks cockily, as if he's in total control of this situation. To be frank, he kind of is. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't have to talk like that."

"I shouldn't have to do a lot of things."

"True that. True that…" he agrees while nodding his head. "You're one tough cookie, kid. I'll give you that much. Lee must have taught you well."

I need to know… this question has to be asked. I have to know this before I meet my ultimate demise.

"What did you do to him… Is Lee really dead?" I ask, shuddering slightly as a frown forms on my face.

For the briefest of seconds, I'm pretty sure that Nate looks sympathetic towards me; as if he might have felt slightly bad for what I've lost. But deep down, I know that he's bluffing. Nate doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone but himself – he's got his own personal agenda, which means to hell with everyone else if they disagree with him.

"Lee was a regular business tycoon – he tried to sweet talk me into saving your camp. Said that he'd do anything as long as I didn't hurt you, but amusingly it turned out that you were the one we were after the whole time! How the fuck did you kill Carver and Troy all by yourself? Makes no sense to me."

"What. Did. You. Do. To. Lee," I hiss at him, trying to prevent myself from hopping over the fire and risking certain death.

Nate smiles cruelly and shakes his head in amusement. "You're a fun kid to talk to, Clementine," he chuckles, sitting more upright. "We sent the bastard out through the back entrance, and my guess is that he got swallowed up by the walkers surrounding us. Haven't seen or heard from him since."

"Then there's a chance… there's always a chance…"

"Not really sure how that's gonna concern you, seeing's how you're going to be dead and all," Nate remarks, standing up, stretching his back and coming over towards me. He then bends down to my level and smirks.

I've got to think of something right now, or else the last thing I'll see is Nate standing over me with a satisfied smirk that I'm dead.

"Sorry it had to come to this," he says, clutching the rifle lazily against his leg, "But I always keep my promises."

Pretending to hold my head down in surrender, I hear Nate chuckle like an evil mastermind.

He doesn't notice that I've stuck the stick even further into the flames.

"Can I ask you something?" I question, ushering for him to come closer to me. "If I'm going to die anyways, then could you at least give me one last request?"

"Fine, I'll play along," Nate agrees, not knowing what I have planned. He sits down beside me; his head sitting inches away from mine. I bite my lip in anticipation, and…

With all of my might, I raise the burning stick straight at his face; sending burning hot embers and flames onto the right side of his head.

Howling in agony, Nate's skin burns and sizzles as the flames eviscerate his face. The smell of burnt flesh is overwhelming, but I don't have time to examine the monster. Immediately standing up, I hobble away through the woods; ducking as Nate fires off a shot from his rifle that goes nowhere near me. Maybe he's a little bit blinded now, too.

"YOU LITTLE FUCKING BITCH!" he screams, shooting off two more shots as he undoubtedly returns to his motorcycle, "I'M GONNA CUT YOU UP INTO TINY PIECES AND FEED YOU TO THE FUCKING WALKERS! ARGHHHHHH!"

There aren't any cheap tricks when you're fighting for your life – I remember Lilly telling me one time. That may have been a low blow, but it'll buy me some time at least. That's really the only thing that matters.

Rushing as fast as I can manage with this fake foot, I try cutting through trees and bushes so that Nate will have a harder time of catching up to me. But the both of us surely know that I won't be able to keep this up forever – I need to find some place where I can hide.

This goes on for about ten minutes or so, and I know that Nate's still hot on my trail. There's no mistaking it, not with Nate's booming voice just telling me to roll over and die already.

Well I've got some news for him: I'm not by him! Not now, and not ever!

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, but I stop and hide behind one of the trees that seem to be facing an old cottage of some kind. Peeking my head out onto the road, I don't seem to see the man anywhere, as he must have passed me already. Thinking that this will be my best chance for getting away from him without freezing to death, I hurriedly go up to the front door of the cottage and curse as I find out it's still locked. God damn it! This is the second thing that Jane's nail file could've been useful for!

There's really only one thing that I can do. Luckily, the previous owners kept some pretty hefty rocks in their garden, so I set to work on tossing them straight at the window near the doorway. There wouldn't be any point of me trying to kick down the door, as I'm not a super hero or anything like the comics that Duck got me hooked on.

I chuck the big rocks about ten times before finally getting the end result – a smashed-up window pane which looks really painful to enter through.

Carefully pulling myself up to the window sill, I hiss in pain as shards of broken glass cause my hands to bleed slightly, before finally dropping into the room.

This is right as I see Nate double back on the motorcycle and stop a few feet away from the cottage.

The inside of this place is actually really nice, even though it hasn't been maintained for quite some time. There's an old television set in the family room like my grandparents used to own, along with two leather couches and a rocking chair. There are bar stools that run along the kitchen counter, as well as stainless-steel appliances and a gas oven by the looks of things. This is a single-story house, unless you include the basement. I bet the family that owned it would come here every summer.

"Where the hell are you…" he snarls as I duck down to avoid detection. Thinking that the basement is my best chance, I tiptoe my way over and silently curse myself for stepping on the glass.

Crack!

"Huh?!" Nate remarks, going up to the front porch and twisting the doorknob fruitlessly. I don't have a whole lot of time here, so as silently as possible I descend the steps into the basement.

The cottage thankfully has some smashed windows in the basement, which I hadn't noticed before since they're located at the side of the house. The basement itself is unfinished, but there are several beds spread out down here along with an old kitchen table that they must not have gotten rid of yet. Maybe they kept it in case renters brought big families along with them, hence the large number of beds around this place.

Exploring further, I make my way into a darkened room with (what else?) more beds as well as a small dresser-drawer. Opening up the wooden cupboard of it, I find an old slingshot, a few rusty nails, a small hammer and a pack of chewing gum. Putting the gum in my pocket, I also take the slingshot along with the nails and hammer. It's certainly not a gun, but if worse comes to worse I can at least take Nate by surprise with this thing.

I hear some more rumbling going on from upstairs, probably meaning that Nate has managed to get the door open, but I also hear… a small moaning sound.

Carefully sneaking over to the source, I gasp in shock at what I've discovered – a small boy walker, completely malnourished and looking a hell of a lot like Duck. It seems that somebody tied his leg to one of the wooden poles down here, and my heart saddens as I see his hollowed-out cheeks.

"Must've starved to death…" I murmur to myself sadly, keeping one ear fixed on the walker and one focused on what's going on upstairs. It truly sucks that I won't be able to end his misery without attracting Nate's attention, but maybe I can use this as a sort of distraction if he does come down here.

….

"I know you're here, you clever, miserable fuck," Nate hisses as he descends the staircase; his weight making the floorboards creak. A rush of panic swirls around me as I sit in cover not too far from where my new walker friend is situated.

As I had predicted, Nate follows his moaning slowly as I prepare the slingshot. The rusted nail will have to work for now, and then I can…

"Typical little shit stain! Always hiding like a coward instead of coming out and facing me head on!" he snarls, shaking his head as he sees the boy.

Nate… he looks like that villain from Duck's Batman comic book. Oh, what was his name… umm… Two-Face! Yeah, that's right! Nate Two-Face! A big chunk of his cheek is all burned up and melted away, and part of his eyeball has been scorched. It's disgusting to look at, really. He looks like a melted wax figurine.

Pulling the string on the slingshot back, I fire it as soon as he turns towards me, grunting in pain as I drop the slingshot and proceed to swing the hammer right at his groin.

"Oh god…" he hisses, clutching his junk comically as I race towards the shattered basement window. "No more babies for Nate… oww…"

Cursing my small height, I quickly shove one of the kiddie beds over and bounce up on it until I reach the window ledge. Time's running out, as Nate's going to be back any second now! Once again, using what little muscle I have left, I lift myself up and start to crawl out the window. I almost make it all the way through, when…

"Gotcha, you little bitch!" Nate snarls, holding onto my prosthetic foot and trying to drag me back inside. The thing is practically attached to my stump, so this hurts like you won't believe. I scream as he pulls on it harder, until I start kicking against his fingers with my other foot.

With no other option, I pull away as hard as I can and break free of the prosthetic – sending small amounts of blood to drip onto the snow.

Pain courses up my leg as the fake foot sits on the ground – Nate must've lost his grip before I escaped. This feeling is ridiculously hurting, but I stifle it up by biting hard on my tongue, picking the prosthetic up and hopping away on one foot like an idiot.

I stumble on the way as I desperately try to reach safety; the hammer still in one hand as I go along. There's no time for me to even make an attempt at putting this stupid foot back on, and Nate's already sprinted out of the cottage and back onto his bike.

There's a rather large section of the lake that actually did manage to get frozen, and I don't see any other options of getting around it. Walkers slowly stumble around, not noticing me but instead looking toward Nate and the sound of his motorcycle.

"I'LL RUN YOU INTO THE FUCKING GROUND!" he roars, revving the engine and heading straight towards me – no regard for his own safety or anything as walkers come within inches of him.

With no other choices, I hop over to the lake but trip down the small hill that leads to it. Down and down I go as snow fills my face and sticks to my clothes; with me hissing in pain as I bump my stump on an exposed tree branch below.

Crawling like the desperate twelve-year old girl that I am, I can hear the ice cracking underneath my weight as I move forward. Is this really what it's come down to? How am I supposed to survive this? I can't just crawl my way across the ice! That'll take me hours to get across, and I won't even know where I'm going!

Using my arms to try and push myself back upright, I collapse only once before trying again. There's no way that I'm losing this to Nate! No fucking way!

When I finally do manage to sit myself up, I hear the click of Nate's rifle; locked, loaded and aimed straight at me. Nate's at the top of the hill where I fell from, and I don't think I've ever seen a crazier look on his face than right now.

"It's been a hell of a ride," he states, closing his bad eye painfully, "Sayonara, Clementine."

The pain in my shoulder is enormous and instant, as I fall backwards and finally crash through the ice to the depths below. This feels a lot like when Nick shot me back near the cabin, except this time the combined pain is exponentially worse. Blood from my wounds floats to the surface, and I'm preparing myself for death.

I can't swim with this foot being the way it is, and the gunshot just below my shoulder is preventing me from moving my left arm at all.

Maybe I'll get to see them again: Lee, Lilly, Kenny, Duck, Ben, Carley… all of them, including the new friends that I had made. I hope in their final hours that they didn't think bad of me – I certainly didn't of them.

The water down here is freezing cold, but it's peaceful down here at least. No violence, no loss, no regrets… just the calm flow of water as it engulfs me in its cold embrace.

My eyes grow more unfocused, and I force a small smile to my face as the air retreats from me. I wonder if Mom and Dad would be proud of me; of what I've gone through.

That's my last though before my vision slowly goes black and the first drops of water enter my lungs.