Chapter 15 - Peachy

The station was not the oasis the stranger had made it out to be. I wondered how he could have been in such good spirits with so meager a haul to his name. It was all but pitifully bare: nothing but a rickety cot, some scattered papers, and empty cans. I pressed my sneaker down on one, rolling it up to face me. A little girl with neat pigtails smiled up at me from the yellowing label. Peaches, it used to be. I couldn't even remember what peaches tasted like.

I had to kill my mom.

I pivoted slowly. Through the cracked window I could hear Nick speaking softly, and see the brim of Clementine's bloodstained baseball hat. That sounds weird when I say it out loud.

Sighing, I crouched, sliding over to the window and ducking beneath the sill, my back against the wall and my hands resting weakly across my knees. Luke always used to push me. I never wanted to go into business with him. I remember when he sold me on it. His big plan! Some fuckin' plan. A case of beer and he just said 'Nick, we're burnin' daylight!' And that was that. After six months, we were flat broke. But I didn't care. We were havin' fun. I wish I was like him. I wish I could just keep movin' all the time. But I'm just not... built like that. I'm sure they're talking about me right now. 'Luke,' he imitated Carlos' thick Spanish drawl, 'he's becoming a danger to the group.'

Even I managed to grin at that. Carlos was fucking annoying.

So who was that guy? Nick continued. It looked like he was holdin' you guys up. I figured he was with Carver.

I dropped my head, considering this.

He seemed nice, Clem spoke up.

Damn, Nick muttered. What a fuckin' mess. Maybe I am losing it. I don't know anymore. God, I'm hungry. What time is it, anyway? Damn... damn! I heard a thunk, like Nick had slammed his fist down on the bench or the wall of the station.

What's wrong? Clem asked.

I left my watch back at the cabin, Nick sighed. It was Pete's. He gave it to me. Never had one like it. Gold.

Slowly, I reached into the pocket of my jacket and withdrew the watch, turning it over in my palms. The last of the day's sun crept through the window, casting a beam of light upon the face that bounced aimlessly around the room, illuminating motes of dust blithely swimming through the air.

I... Clem started. I closed my fingers around the cold metal, for some reason hoping she wouldn't be honest, just this once. I'm sorry, she said.

It's okay, he whispered, barely audible. I'm gonna... I'm gonna go talk to them.

I let my head fall back against the sideboards, listening to the telltale squeak of the bench as Nick rose. A few seconds later, the door swung open and Clem stepped in.

"Hey," she smiled.

I raised my head in an acknowledging nod. "Thank you," I whispered, my eyes burning, the watch cutting imprints into my clenched hand. She spotted the band dangling from my fingers and nodded.

"So... anything in here?" She looked around warily.

I stood, not bothering to dust myself off, and re-pocketed the watch. "Trunk might be worth breaking into. And there's a good knife on the shelf up there." I had spotted it a few minutes before, but felt no urgency about it. Should be her's, anyway – I had a perfectly decent one, after all. She pivoted and reached for the weapon, drawing it out of its sheath. I stepped up behind her, admiring it. Nice handle, good solid wood, and a full tang. It must have been a faithful tool – the previous owner had seen fit to carve his initials into the side. M-something.

"You keep it," I instructed. "You need one."

Clem didn't like weapons but she knew their necessity. I knelt by the trunk, picking at the lock.

"I don't see a key anywhere," Clem remarked. "That man probably had it."

"Time to see how strong that knife is," I cringed, failing to pry open the trunk. Clem knelt next to me, unsheathing the knife and jamming it behind the locking mechanism. She pulled, and the lock gave way with a metallic snap. We pushed the lid back, letting it fall open against the wall.

Three more little girls peered up at me, each from their respective can of peaches. I thought they looked like Clem.