Chapter 9 – Pictures

When I returned to the cabin, the whole place felt foreign again, as though I had never set foot inside. I forced myself to open the front door, knowing Clem would have left it unlocked for me despite the danger of doing so. Quintessential Clementine. I decided not to scold her for it, pushing the door shut behind me and pacing robotically into the living room.

Clem and Sarah were on the couch, their faces turned toward me apprehensively. Clem rose first, rushing to me. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I lied. "I couldn't find him." My head was swimming again, but I couldn't dwell on these events now. I drew Sarah's gun from my waistband and set it down on a table.

"Did you see my dad?" Sarah leapt up.

"No," I shook my head, clutching my injured arm again.

"We have to find them," Clementine's face hardened and she turned toward the hallway. Sarah and I followed her, Sarah protesting about the inherent hazards of going outside. She was right, though, and I didn't have the energy to be annoyed with her cowardice. But we didn't have to debate it. As we stepped through the swinging door into the kitchen, Luke arrived through the back door.

"Clementine, Scout!"

"Sarah," Carlos emerged behind him. Sarah gasped, hurrying into his arms.

"You two were with Nick, right?" Luke grabbed at our attention, grounding me.

"We got separated at the river," Clementine explained. "I was with Nick, and..."

"I was with Pete," I finished.

"We gotta go find them," he asserted.

"A man was here," Sarah's small voice rose above the fray. I watched as she pulled away from Carlos, clutching her folded arms to her chest, hunched over slightly. A stiff breeze would have blown her over. She was like nothing, barely extant at all. At least the attention was off us.

"What?" Carlos demanded.

"What did she say?" Rebecca. She and Alvin filed in behind the bar and the door swung shut.

"A man came to the cabin," she repeated timidly. I shut my eyes. My head was pounding again.

"Who?"

"Clementine and Scout talked to him."

I opened my eyes. Rebecca was glaring at us. "You two just opened the door for him!?"

"Calm down, Rebecca," Luke stepped forward, blocking my view of her.

"Calm down!? I am calm! You calm down!"

"He was coming in either way," Clementine placated.

"I told you not to open the door for anyone," Carlos chided. "Did he... did he say his name?"

I turned to Clem, and despite her forgiving nature I knew she didn't buy Carver's fake name bullshit any more than I did. It's him. It's Carver, I would have told her if we'd had time. I hoped she knew. Still, I felt dirty. If the group knew what I did, we were done for here.

"Maybe it wasn't him," Rebecca interrupted.

"We know damn well it was," Alvin threw in.

"Yeah," Clem ignored them. "But I think he was lying."

"I thought he said his name was George," Sarah chimed innocently, as though we were discussing something mundane, like the weather or a football game or what our homework assignment was.

"George?" Rebecca whispered, and the room fell eerily silent. I studied Rebecca intently, and for once, she looked away.

"Look, girls, just tell us what he looked like," Carlos entreated. "What was he wearing?"

"A brown coat," Clem replied. "With a fur lining."

It was sherpa. Used to be white, the color of lamb's wool. Hadn't been white in a long time, the way my uncle wore it. My little fingers grasped at the soft fabric, clenching the pilling fluff. The coat was sprawled out on Daddy's armchair.

"Alright, princess," Uncle Bill turned to me, snapping his phone shut and sliding it back into his pocket. "Your mama's on her way home so I gotta make myself scarce, you understand?"

I didn't. I wanted to. Uncle Bill said that a lot – you understand? I didn't. I wanted to.

"He talked about you, Dad. You're not gonna hurt anyone, are you?" Sarah's voice was smaller than ever.

"Of course he's not, Sarah," Luke raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Your dad's the nicest man I know, which is why," he turned to Carlos, "he's not gonna do anything crazy or... not nice. Right, Carlos?"

Carlos laid his hand on Sarah's shoulder. "You know these are bad people, sweetie. They will do or say anything to hurt us." I bristled at this, gritting my teeth to avoid opening my mouth.

"Alright, what do you think?" Luke addressed Clem and I. "Did it seem like he'd be coming back?"

"He saw a picture of me." Goddammit, Sarah, shut the fuck up!

"A picture?!" Carlos raised his voice suddenly, startling even me. "What were you doing taking pictures?"

"Carlos!" Luke chided. "You need to calm down. You're... you're scaring your daughter."

But Carlos would not calm down. He clenched the photo in his fist and I watched the polaroid crumple. "Unbelievable," he snarled, shaking his head. "He... he was scouting. We got lucky. He wasn't expecting to find us. Clementine and Scout must have surprised him. If they hadn't been here..." he faltered. "Well... he was too smart to stick around. But he'll be back with the rest. We don't have much time."

"He's right," Luke folded his arms. "Everyone pack up. We're moving out."

Alvin and Rebecca were the first to rush off. Carlos knelt before Sarah. "We have to leave, sweetie, before he comes back with more bad guys. But it's gonna be okay."

I was sickened by this charade. Bad guys. No, bad guys were something you saw on Saturday morning cartoons, dressed in impractically stupid bandit masks and hefting bags of money over their shoulders. Bad guys were losers with no fortitude. I dropped my arms, approaching them. "Why did you leave his camp?" I demanded.

"Because we had to," Carlos defended, straightening up. "Girls, I don't know what he told you, but William Carver is a dangerous man. He's the leader of a camp not far from here, and he's very smart. We were lucky to escape."

William Carver. Now that someone else had spoken his name aloud it hung in the air like a dark ghost.

"Look, I'm sorry to have to involve you but now that he's seen you two you'll be safer with us."

"I doubt that," I replied stonily, and I could feel Clem's desperate eyes on me, knowing that more than anything she had wanted this to work.

Broken world, broken people.