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"Never turn your back on fear. It should always be in front of you, like a thing that might have to be killed."
Chapter Two
She was hungry when the sunlight drifted across her eyes. It slivered through the planks of her treehouse during the late morning. She thought she heard a car crash into the woods behind the house - there were a lot of car crashes lately, among the screaming and sirens.
She curled her knees up, hoping to hear the sounds of her mommy and daddy coming to take her away, their calls shouting her name from the driveway. Sometimes she thought she heard them, but after several hours she realized their voices were only in her imagination. After several more hours she thought she could hear Sandra's voice too. Saying she shouldn't open the front door by herself, then to quickly get behind her. Her shrieks rattled in her head, long after she saw the blood spurting from between the mans teeth sunken into her babysitter's neck. Sandra gargled her last words to her, OH GOD! GET OUT CLEM, RUN!
Clementine felt as though she'd awoken from a series of bad dreams; covered in cold sweat, limbs weak, kind of crabby. Her head throbbed in tune with her arm like the worst wake up call ever. Agitated voices were arguing nearby.
"-Dont tell me that, not after what happened!"
"Would someone mind telling me what the FUCK is going on?"
Clementine experimented with her eyes. Several blurry people were standing around her, talking to who she thought was Pete, one of the men that had dragged her out of death's grip. For some reason they all seemed so upset. "We got this. Don't worry."
"Like hell you do." A woman came into focus, very pregnant and formidable. "Did anyone even think to ask where she came from?"
Clementine wished they'd shut up. The pain in her arm was flooding back in waves. She tried to swallow and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Blinking away the stars in her eyes she found herself looking down the business end of a rifle barrel.
Pete didn't sound defensive, simply like he knew exactly what he was doing."She told us she was out there alone. She got bit by a dog."
"What?" Pregnant-lady put her hands on her hips. "And you just believed her? You should have put her out of her misery right there."
"Well I'm sorry, Rebecca. Next time I'll shoot everyone I bump into before askin' any questions."
"Do not give me that attitude. For all we know she could be working for Carver!" She crossed her arms."Dog bite my ass."
Every instinct in her told her to run, but then what? One of the men who found her, Luke? He'd mentioned having a doctor, that he could help. That was worth it. She cleared her throat. "I need a doc-"
The rifle went off with a patch of dirt exploding beside her, the bright flash and deafening bang leaving her momentarily stunned. She froze, clutching at her ringing ears while her eyes darting from one startled face to another. Pete yanked the gun away from the tall, skinny guy wearing a red ball cap. "Keep your finger off the damn trigger, boy!"
The cabin door flew open, followed by Luke. "Whoa whoa, what the fuck!"
"Nick, you idiot," The pregnant lady scolded. "Every lurker for five miles probably heard that."
The guy whirled on her. "You're the one telling me to fuckin' shoot her!"
"Everyone just calm down a second!" A man in glasses shouted over them, standing behind Rebecca.
Luke rushed down the porch steps. "Clementine, are you ok?" He asked, helping her to her feet. The good cop, bad cop scenario had officially gotten old. She politely withdrew from him, cradling her left arm. "I just need a doctor ... and then ... And then I'll go. I just don't want my arm to get infected."
"None of us want to get infected." The guy called Nick said. "That's the point."
Luke attempted to reassure her. "We got a doctor right here, ok? He'll have a look." He turned to the others indignantly. "Now what the hell is wrong with you people? She's just scared!"
"We're all scared, Luke." Rebecca said. "Don't act like we're the ones being irrational 'cause we don't buy this bullshit story."
"No way she survived out here on her own." Nick added. "Why are we even talking about this?"
"Let me take a look." A tall man (whom she assumed was the doctor, Carlos) approached Clementine. She took a wary step back, uncertain of this giant with the stony face. Her eyes flickered to Luke, who offered a small smile. "It's ok. Go ahead, he's a doctor."
Apprehensively, she rolled up the sleeve over her swollen arm, breathing sharply through her teeth. She could feel the rest of them looming around the doctor to watch. Carlos gently palpitated the area surrounding the bite. "Hmph, whatever it was, it got you good." He murmured.
"This isn't how we do things, man." Nick declared, walking up to Luke. "When you're bit, you get put down. End of story. I'm not going through this again."
"We could take her arm off." Pete suggested. Clementine gasped. Everyone turned to look at him like he'd sprouted a second head, and it had just told them to cut a girl's arm off. He said it so matter-of-factly she wasn't quite sure those were the words he used. "I know that worked for a cousin down in Ainsworth. We could try that."
"It won't do any good. You'll just be making it worse for the girl."Rebecca argued.
"That's crazy! No one's gonna volunteer to do that!" Her husband agreed.
Luke glanced at her with a pained expression. She swallowed hard. "Luke...?"
"Don't look at me like that, I'm on your side, kid."
She ignored the kid comment and scanned the people before her, meeting each of their eyes head on. "I promise you, it was just a dog bite. That's all it was."
Before anyone could respond, the door to the cabin cracked open. A bespectacled girl peeked through the crack. "Who's she?"
Carlos stood up suddenly. "Sarah, what did I say? Stay inside!"
The girl reluctantly closed the door. Carlos returned to examining Clementine's arm. "I don't mean to be any trouble." She said quietly, not looking up when one of the upstairs windows slid open a crack. "I just want to stop the bleeding, and then I'll go. You'll never see me again."
"And where exactly would you go?" Carlos asked, expressionless but her gut told her there was more to that question than it's face-value. "To find my friend Christa-"
"Forget it." Nick interrupted. "You won't get five feet."
Anger flared in Clementine's chest, and before she could stop herself she shot back, "With aim like that, I'd have enough time to find her walking backwards."
"Shut the fuck-"
"Enough!" Rebecca's husband bellowed, startling everyone. More calmly he said, "Now I'm no doctor or nothin', and I'm good with whatever you guys decide. But maybe, just maybe, we should be sure before we go off and do something crazy."
Carlos got up and turned back to the group, folding his arms over his chest in contemplation. Luke spoke, "So what do you think?"
"Was it a lurker?"
"A bite like that ... It could be anything." He murmured. "Only one way to find out."
Pete narrowed his eyes. "How?"
"We wait."
Crap. She wondered how long she could stave off an infection. Considering her luck so far, the odds looked bleak.
"By tomorrow morning if the fever sets in, we'll know if she's gonna turn. In the meantime, we can lock her in the shed."
Double crap! Clementine shifted uneasily, knowing if she made a run for it she'd find a bullet sized hole in her back. "What about my arm? It need to be cleaned, and stitched and bandaged!"
"The girl's in bad shape, Carlos." Luke added.
"We have all that stuff inside the cabin. We could probably get by-"
"Alvin, please."
The doctor's face didn't even twitch. "I'm not wasting supplies on a lurker bite." He glanced in her general direction. "If it turns out you're telling the truth, I'll clean and stitch it up for you in the morning."
"But -" Clementine started, but he was already walking up the stairs into the cabin.
"I'm sorry," Luke said. "That's the best you're gonna get."
Nick gestured with two fingers for the gun back. Pete gave him a hard look,"Finger off the trigger, son."
He snatched the gun out of his hands. "I ain't your son."
"Hey, don't be like that, man." Luke warned.
"It's all right." Pete said, looking like stern and authoritative parent. "Boy's got his Mom's temper."
Nick made a disgusted face and turned to Clementine, motioning her to walk with the gun. "C'mon."
She bit her quivering lip as she did what she was told. Behind them she heard Rebecca say, "This is just a waste of time, you'll see. And when she turns, I'm not gonna be the one cleanin' up the mess."
Luke walked next to her, looking equal parts concerned and guilty. Clementine quietly asked, "What if you just let me go?"
"I wish I could. I really do, but it's too risky. I'm sorry."
"Risky? Why? You wouldn't ever have to bother with me again."
"I can't ask you to trust me, but we have our reasons for being careful."
Clementine wanted to argue, but there they were, in front of the shed with the gun at her back. The door swung open and revealed a sparse area, just barrel in the corner and a table with a lamp on it pushed against the wall. "Looks cozy." She muttered, walking in a circle to face the two men at the door as they closed the door behind her.
They walked back to the cabin in tense silence. Nick rolled his shoulders, scowling. "Why are we doing this? This is so fucking dumb."
"Because it's safer this way." Luke reasoned, shoving hands into his pockets. "And I'd rather be sure."
"Yeah, but safer for who?"
"Look, I'm not letting you risk killing an innocent person. I know you don't want that hanging over your head for the rest of your life."
"Psssh, I know I don't want to wake up dead."
Luke rolled his eyes. "Nick, are you seriously telling me you're scared of a little girl?"
Nick shot him a glare, jabbing a finger towards the shed. "That ain't no little girl, man. That in there? That, that is a goddamn contingency, just waiting to bite us in the ass."
"I don't think you're using that word right."
"Shut up."
"Still," Luke shrugged. "She's scared, injured and locked in a shed with nothing but lurkers to keep her company. Just what do you think is gonna happen?"
Fifteen minutes later, she was escaping her prison and infiltrating the cabin.
It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dark, though enough moonlight spilled through some cracks around the doors so the shed wasn't pitch black. She bumped into the table and pulled the little chain to switch the lamp on. "I can't believe this..." She hissed to no one.
Nothing in the room looked remotely useful; a bunch of two-by-fours sticking out a barrel, a rake, a tackle box. An anchor hung from the back wall, as well as a life preserver in the corner. Maybe there was a boat to go with them, on a nearby lake. Not that she had any idea how to drive one, but at least it was something to look for if she got out. When she got out. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, saying to the walls, "You're ok, everything's gonna be fine."
A pitter-patter on the roof indicated it had begun to rain. There had to be something useful leftover, an overlooked chainsaw or bolt-cutters (she laughed out loud at the thought.) Digging through the tackle box she found a roll of fishing line. Well, desperate times and all that. She placed it on the table when her shirt snagged on a loose nail. Upon closer examination she noticed a board was hastily hammered over a broken panel near the ground. She patted her pockets, her heart doing a somersault in her chest when she closed her fingers on the pocket knife, mentally thanking the preoccupied jerks that didn't search her. Wedging it between the board and the wall, however, she found it wasn't enough to pry it off.
She searched the room for any leftover tools, finding none. She sighed, leaning against the workbench until her eyes rested on a hammer poking out from a tall shelf.
"No way," She reached for the handle, only able to tap it with her fingertips. She pulled down a folding table from the wall and climbed up. It was just out of reach. She leaned over the shelf, reaching for the handle when she heard a snap. The shelf gave way, sending her crashing to the ground and bashing her elbow and knees.
The wind was knocked out of her lungs, stunning her in place. "What the ... hell?" She groaned, frustration burning at her face until she saw the hammer an inch from her hand. She closed her fist around the hammer, feeling a faint grin tug the edge of her mouth.
The board came off so easily it was laughable. She gave the hammer a little flip and slipped it through a belt loop. Kicking out the outer plywood, she crawled through the hole she'd made. The rain was coming down harder, distant thunder rumbling. She scanned the trees, finding only a lone walker floating some thirty feet away. She had two options, run away and try to find the alleged boat, or, find a way to fix her arm so she wouldn't die of infection. Without a map she had little chance of simply stumbling onto a lake. Nope, the next item on her priority list had to be sneaking into the house full of armed and suspicious strangers to 'borrow' their stash of supplies.
And that was going to be the easy part.
Thanks for reading this far, please let me know what you think. Next up: Clementine goes Sam Fisher on the group.