A/N: There is a bit of a time skip between this chapter and the last so please don't miss that because it is very important!


13. Something to believe in


3 weeks later

Sarah keeps her pistol raised as she slowly steps around another abandoned car on the side of the road, peering down the barrel of her gun and preparing to fire at anything that may be moving.

The sky is grey above her, the thick clouds appearing as if it might start raining soon. Not a sound is heard around her except for the gloomy whistling of the wind. Strands of hair are swept out from underneath her hood as the cold breeze hits her once more, sending a shiver trailing up her spine.

Quickly scanning the area and discovering nothing unusual in her sights, Sarah warily approaches the empty parking lot of the drugstore in the distance.

Reaching the front door, she tucks her pistol into the back of her jeans and pulls out a small jar from Clementine's backpack on her shoulders, a couple of bullets sealed inside the glass object.

She peers through the window, looking upwards and spotting a small bell above her on the other side. She swings open the door, expecting the brief ringing of the bell that sounds from above.

Leaning against the surface to prop open the door, she aggressively shakes the jar in her hand. The bullets inside continuously clink against the glass, causing a ruckus that interrupts the silence.

In nearly no time at all, she hears a low moaning sound coming from the back of the building, her eyes not yet spotting anything that moves. Sarah then digs through her backpack again with little haste, retrieving a thin book from inside. More growling reaches her ears, getting louder by the second.

She wedges the book underneath the door and takes a few steps back, the entrance to the drugstore now propped open. The walker emerges from within one of the aisles, immediately catching sight of the girl and stumbling towards her with urgency.

Now outside the store, Sarah pulls out the knife from her boot as she calmly waits for the rotting figure to approach her. She sees a second one emerging from behind, just as the first walker reaches her.

With a blank expression, Sarah kicks her foot into its knee, causing it to tumble over and land on its side. In a swift gesture, she plunges her knife into its skull and yanks it out, the body going limp. She steps over the corpse to meet the second walker, who is continuously clawing its bony hands while snarling viciously at her.

She kicks it in the leg, hearing a crack as it collapses onto its back. She bends down, stabbing the walker in the head and swiftly stepping past the lifeless body all in one motion.

After retrieving her book from underneath the door, Sarah makes sure to close it behind her with as little noise as possible. It isn't much warmer in here than outside, so she tugs the hood of her jacket even lower over her eyes, hoping she won't have to be in here for long.

With the store now clear of the dead, she makes a beeline towards the end of the small building while glancing at the contents on every shelf. Rushing into one of the aisles near the back, Sarah tucks her knife away and begins her search.

There isn't much left on the shelves, but her eyes skim over every remaining bottle while frantically scanning for words that are familiar to her. She picks up a few different ones, rotating them in her hand and reading the information on the back. Some of them end up being empty, and she rolls her eyes upon wondering why someone would leave an empty bottle.

After a few minutes of not yet finding anything useful to her, she advances even further down the aisle, but then she hears the distant sound of the bell jingling from back the way she came, followed by the door clicking shut.

Whipping around in an instant, Sarah freezes in her tracks while instinctively equipping her gun. She can't see the door from where she is, but she attempts to peer through the shelves in search of any moving figures that may be seen on the other side.

After a minute of spotting nothing, she cautiously makes her way back down the aisle, her form buckled and her steps slow and cautious.

She flicks the safety off on her pistol as quietly as possible, listening carefully for any further noise, but she doesn't hear anything anymore. For a moment, she thinks it may have only been the wind, a gust having managed to swing the door open and close it again. But then she hears what sounds like a shoe brushing against the floor and she presses her back against one of the shelves. Momentarily closing her eyes in preparation, she takes a final breath.

In one quick motion, Sarah lunges out into the open and raises her pistol with both hands, preparing to shoot.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy," a male voice babbles frantically, and Sarah finds herself only a few feet away from the intruder.

Her first instinct is to pull the trigger, but upon noticing the man's alarmed expression and the fact that he's unarmed, she thinks better of it.

No sooner does he speak, the front door bursts open behind him with a bang and two more figures race inside, aiming their rifles directly at Sarah.

Her grip tightening, Sarah moves to aim at them instead, their weapons automatically making them more of a threat.

She watches as the man shoots a signaling hand in their direction, stopping them from firing. The two women freeze, eyeing him in contemplation then at each other, as if they're unsure whether they want to heed to his command. He nods in confirmation at his friends, not a word exchanging between the trio.

After a few tense moments, they finally lower their guns and the man turns back to Sarah with a satisfied look on his face.

Sarah's expression remains cold and hard, her finger touching the trigger as her aim remains fixed on them. If they thought the action of lowering their guns would somehow put her at ease, it didn't.

"We don't want any trouble," he says in a stern tone, his empty hands raised in surrender. "We're—we're not here to hurt you."

It isn't until now that Sarah finally gets a good look at the people in front of her. The man appears to be in his late forties, with greying hair and a dark brown jacket. One of the women appears to be much younger, with long red hair and earmuffs around her head. The other has a blonde ponytail and must be in her thirties, wearing denim overalls and a thick red jacket overtop.

Sarah is successful at leveling her rapid breath, but she can't help how her pistol quivers in her hands as she aims it at the strangers in front of her. "Stay back," she warns.

"Hey," he holds out a cautious hand toward her. "You don't have to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Sarah interjects almost all to quickly, her tone confident. Already flashing back to the last time she had encountered a stranger, Sarah knows that if these people do a single thing she doesn't like, she won't be afraid to shoot this time. She won't make that same mistake again.

"Okay, we—we just wanna talk," he reasons. "Is that all right with you?"

"Then talk."

The man seems taken aback by her harsh tone, and Sarah can clearly see on his face the moment he realizes that she's not going to lower her gun any time soon, soon accepting that fact with a disappointed scowl.

My name's Adam… and… this here is Emma and that's Madeline." He gestures to the blonde first, then the other girl, before turning to completely face Sarah again. "We, um… we saw you come in here. We thought you might need some help."

Sarah narrows her eyes at this, finding his statement to be unexpected. Usually when you see other people, you'd run in the opposite direction. Why would they voluntarily approach her just to aim their rifles at her before attempting to strike up a casual conversation? She finds his claim difficult to believe, automatically decreasing their chances of gaining any sense of trust from her.

"Are you all alone out here?" he asks.

Sarah doesn't respond.

The entire building is encased in awkward silence, but she sees the other two behind him nervously glancing at each other as a reaction to Sarah's uninformative response.

"You look pretty young to be on your own," observes Adam, and Sarah immediately furrows her brows at the way he seems to be studying her all of a sudden, as if he's entirely unable to figure her out.

She purses her lips in thought, debating how much information she wants to tell him. Her grip on the gun loosens ever so slightly, a flash of sorrow striking across her features. "Yeah," breathes Sarah. "I'm alone."

He nods faintly in understanding, noticing the longing in her eyes. Pushing away the thought of whatever seems to have happened, he chooses to change the obviously sensitive topic. "You're looking for medicine?"

Sarah is confused for a moment, before remembering they had obviously seen her just now, and she soon figures there would be no point in denying that observation.

"Is someone sick?"

She remains silent, finding his series of questions to be never-ending. It's almost as if he's testing her, and she wonders why he would care so much.

"You don't look injured," notes Adam. "And if that were the blood of the dead on you, I'd be smelling it from here." He gestures downwards, his implication clear.

Following his eyes, Sarah briefly glances down at herself, and it isn't until then that she fully acknowledges all the blood. She hadn't even realized it was there until now. The front of her jeans is covered in it. Her jacket is partially smeared, and her hands are completely painted red as well.

He's right, it isn't a walker's blood. And it isn't Sarah's either.

She readjusts her grip on the gun, finding that he is getting to be a little too personal. Considering whatever it is they probably want from her, she decides she won't believe a word of what it is they have to say. "Please, just get out," demands Sarah. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you make me."

"Look, I—I know it's not easy to trust people these days." Adam raises his hands in caution again, hardly bothered by her threat. "Believe us, we've seen our share of bad people before."

The girl with the earmuffs, Madeline, takes a step forward. "We're from a hospital just a few miles north of here," she declares. "If medicine is what you need, we got plenty of it back at our place. We've got food, water, doctors…" she lists. "If you come back with us, we can help you."

Sarah's eyes widen upon hearing this, her arms lowering slightly. "You… you have a doctor?" She doesn't want to believe these people, but at the same time, a huge part of her is willing to believe anything at this point.

"We do," confirms Madeline, glancing at her friends. "And we got plenty of room for new people, too. We can give you what you need, and you can bring whoever else you have with you, too."

Sarah's eyes flicker to the ground in debate. All the information she's suddenly hearing is overwhelming, and she finds herself at a loss for words.

Snapping herself back into reality, Sarah despises herself for momentarily getting lost in the idea of such a fantasy. Those things don't exist. People don't just offer help out of kindness, not unless they get something out of it. The world just doesn't work that way anymore. "Why would you want to help me?" she asks in a nearly dangerous tone, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"It's… kind of what we do," the other girl, Emma, speaks up. "If we see someone who has less than we do, we help them. If they need it, we give it to them," she explains. "There aren't enough people left that are willing to do that, now a days. And we would've given anything for a helping hand back when we were in your situation."

"What if I'm dangerous?" presses Sarah further.

The three of them exchange looks with each other. "We're fully aware there are dangerous people out there," adds Adam. "But the way we see it, you're just a young girl who's been left on her own and is struggling to fend for herself. At least, that's what it looks like to us."

Sarah wants to defend herself, but after hearing his accurate depiction of her, she can't help but lose confidence from how easily he is able to see through her.

"We saw you looking for medicine just now," he continues. "And… we wouldn't be able to live with ourselves knowing that we didn't offer some of ours when we knew someone else needed it more."

"We just want to help. That's all," insists Madeline. "And if you don't want to come, then… we'll be on our way."

The building dissolves into a tense silence after that as the three of them all wait in anticipation for Sarah's response. She observes their expressions one by one, aiming to find any hint that would tell her whether they're lying or not. But she doesn't find any.

They really do just look like regular people, as opposed to bandits, or murderers. Then again, Sarah has murdered before, but nobody would ever say that she looked like one.

She still isn't entirely sure if she believes them, but taking that risk right now has to be better than not taking any at all. It isn't every day you encounter other people, especially ones that claim they want to help. And with her desperation, she knows she would regret saying no to such an offer. So with Sarah still skeptical, she decides on an alternate solution.

"Here's what gonna happen," Sarah breaks the silence, her voice firm. "I stay here. You come back with one of your doctors and they give me the medicine I need. Then you all go straight back to where you came from and never come back after that."

Noticing that she is staring directly at him when she says this, Adam looks back towards the two women for affirmation, who both nod in his direction. "I don't see the harm in that," he shrugs, turning to Sarah again. "It'll be a few hours trip, though."

"I can wait," Sarah almost interrupts. If these people stick to their word, she knows that in just a few hours, everything will be better. Still, she doesn't allow herself to get too hopeful. Not yet.

"All right, then," grins Adam, satisfied with this arrangement. "Would you be so kind as to lower your gun, now?"

Sarah hesitates. She glares towards Emma and Madeline, then stares Adam down for a few moments more before finally obliging. But just after Sarah slowly lowers her arms to her sides, and her muscles finally relax, she hears a door burst open from behind her and a gun cocking immediately afterwards.

"Put your hands above your head!"

Sarah freezes. With her heart now pounding against her chest, her first thought is that she'd been tricked into lowering the gun.

"Don't shoot! She's not a threat!" shouts Emma as she steps forward with her hands waving in protest.

"Bullshit! I saw her pointin' a gun at you guys just now. She was gonna shoot!" argues the voice from behind her.

Sarah's pistol is still in her hand at her side, but with the rifle that is presumably aimed at the back of her head right now, and with three other people surrounding her, she refuses to turn and instead remains entirely still.

"She's okay, she didn't know who we were!" splutters Adam. "She wants us to go back and—"

"Hey! Who are you?" interrupts the voice, and Sarah is fully aware that question was directed at her.

"Hey, we have it under control," Adam pesters. "Just put the gun down, and no one has to get hurt."

"Not until she drops hers first."

The group turns silent after that. Sarah looks to the three in front of her, at a loss for who to listen to. But considering she may get her head blown off at any minute, she loosens her grip on her gun and lets it clatter to the floor when no one else protests.

"Turn around. Slowly," instructs the voice.

With her empty hands now raised in the air, Sarah attempts to maintain a steady breath. She momentarily closes her eyes, exhaling. Then she moves to turn as slowly as possible, and stares wide-eyed at the face that meets her.

"Sarah?"