Timmy parked the truck in a small alcove of trees. It had been two days since Matthew and Ellie had given them to truck to reach Jackson.
Timmy reached over and gently prodded Clarisse awake.
Clarisse yawned and sat up, gripping the toy robot in her hand. "Are we there yet?"
"Not yet," Timmy answered. He exited the car. "We have to refill on gas again. Keep an eye out for me?"
Clarisse nodded and yawned again, setting the robot on the dash. She sat up and looked around, her eyes alert.
Timmy grabbed a gas can and started to fill up the truck.
Suddenly, there was a loud roar in the distance, followed by the screeches of Infected.
Timmy cursed under his breath as he heard screeches from the opposite direction. He realized that the screeches were getting closer and ran to the passenger door, immediately scooping Clarisse into his arms.
"Where are we going?" Clarisse asked, a hint of fear in her voice.
"Shh," Timmy said sharply.
Timmy turned, ran them to a fallen tree off to the left, and climbed over the top of it. His step faltered, and they slid down the bark.
Clarisse received a scrape on her right knee.
Timmy covered his sister's mouth as she let out a squeal before gently cupping her face. "We need to be very quiet," he whispered.
Timmy risked a glance over the tree and saw a group of Infected running toward the truck, briefly stopping to investigate the vehicle's gentle rattling. There was another loud roar from what Timmy now assumed to be a bear and the group of Infected ran off.
Timmy waited five seconds before picking Clarisse up again and running to the car. He placed her on the floor in front of the passenger seat.
"No matter what, you stay there until I say you can sit up," Timmy said firmly. "Understand?"
Clarisse nodded, the fear in her eyes evident.
"Remember what Ellie said about that robot," Timmy said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"It'll protect me," Clarisse said softly.
"Just like the other day when we were talking to Joel," Timmy reminded her.
Timmy let go of her shoulder and closed the door. He quickly grabbed the gas can and emptied the rest of its contents into the truck's tank. Timmy dropped the can to the ground and moved for the driver's door.
A twig snapped behind him.
Timmy turned around immediately and saw an older man staggering toward the truck. The man saw Timmy and stopped. His face was bearded and his grey shirt and pants were torn and stained with dried blood.
Timmy knew that the man wasn't Infected. He also understood that lack of infection made him no less of a threat.
Timmy said nothing, for fear that he would draw attention to Clarisse or draw the Infected back to them.
The man took a step forward.
Timmy grabbed the gun from his belt.
The man hesitated.
Timmy slowly shook his head took a step forward and pointed the gun at the man.
The man narrowed his eyes and took another slow step forward.
Timmy pulled back the hammer on the pistol.
The man stopped and looked in the direction that the Infected had run.
There was another loud roar from the bear and more squealing of Infected.
The man looked at the gun again and smiled, knowing that Timmy wouldn't risk shooting him and drawing back the Infected.
The man advanced toward Timmy. Toward the truck. Toward Clarisse.
Timmy dropped the gun and grabbed a knife, whipping it at the man. The blade embedded itself in the man's chest. Still, the man staggered forward, yanking the blade from his chest and brandishing it as a weapon.
Before he knew what was happening, Timmy found himself atop the man on the ground. He repeatedly stabbed and slashed with until the man beneath him let out his last breath and dropped the knife he was never given a chance to use.
Timmy sat atop the man for a moment, making sure that the man was truly dead.
Timmy looked down and saw that crimson liquid covered his hands. Drops of blood fell from his blade to the ground. His clothes were freshly stained red.
Timmy's entire body started to shake. He dropped the knives and fell to the side, vomiting.
Thirty seconds later, Timmy opened his eyes and saw the truck. He shook his head as an image of Clarisse in danger flew through his mind.
Timmy grabbed the knives and gun from the ground and started to move toward the truck.
Timmy tripped over the dead man's leg. As he rose again, Timmy saw the man's lifeless eyes and bloodied chest, cut open by numerous stab wounds. Timmy forced himself to swallow the bile that crept into his throat and ran to the truck, quickly getting into the driver's seat and closing the door behind him.
"Can I get up?" Clarisse asked, staring at him from her crouched position.
"Not yet," Timmy mumbled. He cleared his throat. "Not yet. Soon. Just keep your head down."
"Why are your clothes red?"
"Because I just—" Timmy bit his tongue in order stop his graphic reply. He gulped as he started the truck. "I just spilled some gas on me."
"I thought gas was yellow-ish," Clarisse said uncertainly.
"Shit!" Timmy cursed as he realized that their destination was also in the direction that the Infected had run. Timmy gunned the truck as fast as he could. He looked at Clarisse. "Sorry. Just… stay down."
Timmy soon came upon what he could only assume was the loud commotion they had heard earlier. As he sped past, Timmy saw a large black bear standing next to its cub. All around were what was left of Infected bodies.
Timmy looked at the bear as he sped past, noticing a large, non-fatal bite on its shoulder and a few smaller wounds. The large bear growled at the truck and kept its cub at paw's length.
Timmy kept driving.