CLEM'S AGE: FOURTEEN (14)
Bo's POV
Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock…Tick…
"Are you literally going to stare at that thing all day?"
Audibly sighing, I glance over my shoulder as Tommy looms over the table; eyeing our laid-out plans like a hawk as he scrutinizes over every minute detail. His blonde hair is partly tucked back behind his ears with the rest of it looking like a lion's mane. The light red shirt he's got on has been tarnished by oil grease and a bit of mustard from the dinner the other night (as we had somehow managed to find an unopened package of hot dogs beforehand), but I still don't think that he's even noticed it yet. The man's been occupying himself for weeks with our plans to move into the surrounding states, hardly ever eating or sleeping unless his body can't take it anymore.
And he's telling me to take it easy? Ha!
I'll indulge him for a little while, though – seeing's how I really should be getting out of this place. Trust me, the last thing I want to do here is sit around idly all day long, but what choice do I have? We're all stocked up for a solid month and a half at least, and a bunch of our people are out on scouting missions and whatnot. So much for having a lookout up on the roof 24/7. The walkers have largely disbanded or have been killed off in and around Houston, and as far as we're away the city is completely under our control.
Placing the antique clock face down on the desk, I crack my neck before taking a seat close to Tommy. It takes a full minute of silence for him to finally look up at me. "What is it?"
"You told me not to stare at the clock, so here I am."
"Yeah…" he acknowledges, looking at me like I'm an idiot, "and that generally implies that you find something better to do."
"Well, when you figure that out, come right out and tell me. I'll be ready for whatever menial task you throw my way," I tell him, closing my eyes and leaning back in the chair in a relaxed pose. "Whenever you're ready, just give the word. Any day now… any time at all, I'm not picky… Come on…"
Opening one eyelid, I frown in slight annoyance when I notice that he's not even looking at me anymore. Clearly my pesky behaviour hasn't swayed him at all. Either he's used to my antics, or he just straight up doesn't give a shit about having me loitering around now. These days he probably wouldn't even get surprised if I called him a white-trash hobo with a shotgun… long story, don't ask.
"What are you up to over here, anyways?" I question, looking over his shoulder to find that it actually isn't plans for the base here that he's looking over. "Hydroelectric Dams for Dummies… Tommy, if you're looking to put a moat around the space centre this week, it ain't happening! At least not without a bunch of alligators to swim inside the water, at least."
"…what if we could have power again?" Tommy remarks, flipping the page to a picture of the Hoover Dam out along the Colorado River. "We wouldn't need to live in the dark anymore, and I'd sure as hell rest easier knowing that this place is somewhere we could stay for the long haul. Didn't you say you folks had some sort of power grid out here beforehand?"
"Our generators ran most of the show out here, but we stopped maintaining them after the raid," I remind him, watching as he turns away in slight embarrassment. That night's still very much fresh in my mind, despite it being well over a year ago now. "Haven't been down there since – the whole room is probably covered in dust by now."
"Mind if we go take a look? It'll give you a chance to stretch your legs out a little bit!" he chuckles, swinging a shotgun over his shoulder as I nod.
"Sure thing, but it'll have to wait a bit. I've gotta talk to James first," I explain, hoping to god that he's in a better mood today than last night. He had one of his little episodes again, only this time taking his anger out on his best friend instead of just screaming into a pillow or something. He never told me why he was pissed – just shouted at me to leave him to his work and slammed the door in my face. "Gimme an hour or so – I'll meet you in the basement."
"Alright, don't dally too long though, you hear? I can only keep my attention span going for so long!"
Giving him a joking salute, I turn on my heel and head out of the board room; sighing as I pass by the permanent blood stain that's been etched into the tile floor. Poor kid… Zayne didn't even stand a chance, and this serves as a painful reminder to every one of us every single time.
Racheal and Emily won't even come up to the second floor hardly at all, but I do catch Elliot sometimes just sitting right on the floor over here; minding his own business and just… staring. Kelly seems to think that that's just how he's chosen to grieve over things, but I'm not so sure.
Something about that night still haunts me even to this day, but I've chosen to keep it to myself for nearly two whole years.
Zayne's death seemed really odd to me.
Knock-knock-knock!
"Jim?" I holler through the door, typically only using that name when it's just him and I around. He hates it when others call him that. "It's me – are you gonna let me in, or should I be breaking down the door?"
Hearing nothing but furious pen writing as I press my ear up to the door, I fumble around in my pocket for my set of keys when I realize the doctor won't be answering me. Stubborn, old fool… he works far too hard and takes breaks that are far too short. It's the complete opposite of me – I think my ideal would be somewhere in the middle. Nothing so boring that it feels monotonous, but nothing so time-consuming and busy that I get a headache every single hour of the day. A nice balance would be nice.
"Fucking… need to get this fixed…" I mutter under my breath, already having enough trouble opening it as it is with one arm. I practically have to body check the doorway as I finally get it open, and inside sits James; looking ready to pull the hair out of his head if the guy actually had any. "You still acting like a little princess, or am I in the clear now?"
"Just close the door behind you…" he replies, not looking up from whatever it is he's scribbling down. There's a whole mountain of crumpled-up pieces of paper overflowing in his trash bin in the corner, and I pick one of the papers up as I try to make sense of this chicken scratch.
Hmm… looks like some kind of strange mathematical formula which I've got no clue what it means.
However, I do know what all of this is supposed to be for.
"This is ridiculous – two damn years and we're barely farther than where we before," he murmurs, rubbing his exhausted eyes underneath his glasses. "I lost another test subject yesterday! Another one! Do you know how hard those are to come by now? Everybody who lived in Houston left already!"
"…how old was he? The person you tested on, James. What age?"
Deeply sighing, James shakes his head with a guilt-ridden conscience. "Couldn't have been in his twenties yet…"
"Jesus fucking Christ, James! We talked about this!"
"I can't work with corpses here, Bo! It doesn't work that way anymore!" James snaps back, even though I can tell that he feels awful about doing that to a kid. "I knocked him out beforehand, okay? You think I enjoy doing this kind of thing?! I loathe it, and I hate myself every single day for continuing! But don't forget – you're the one who told me to keep going with the research! So don't you come in here and start giving me hell for this, alright?! I don't need to hear it!"
Crap – I suppose he's got a bit of a point there, doesn't he? Fuck… why can't there just be another way?! We've been keeping this a secret from everyone else (including Clementine, although I think she might be starting to realize what's going on), but even I don't know what James is really up to half the time anymore. This isn't a regular occurrence, mind you – we only take those who would mean to do us harm.
But what problem could some random kid have caused?
"…I need syringes," James reveals to me, having calmed down a little bit as he lifts up the stack of paper he's been doodling with. "I should've asked before Clem and the others left for Oklahoma, but I'm completely out. I need them for shots – actual medical shots, not the ones you're thinking of, surely. Syringes, pills and bandages to treat people's wounds. Speaking of which…"
Reluctantly, I bring up my severed limb as I place my arm on the table; undoing the wrap around my wrist as James inspects it for me. James insists that we just do these "Health and Safety" checks as a precaution in case anything gets worse, but nothing's changed ever since I lost it.
Well, other than the fact that my left arm has suddenly gotten much more jacked than my right one has. It's kind of hard to do things when one of your hands has been chopped off.
"Can't even feel my fingers anymore," I mention as I shake my head. "No pain, no muscle memory… nothing. It's almost as if I didn't have a hand there at all."
"Other than the scarring, you can't even tell that anything happened to you. That's a good sign – it means your body's getting used to it, and you might start feeling more comfortable doing things from now on."
"Oh, believe me," I firmly disagree, "there's nothing comfortable about it. Don't suppose you have an extra one laying around – "
When James looks at me sternly, that's when I know that I've crossed the line. Too soon for dead jokes… too fucking soon…
"I wanted to talk to you about something else actually…" I continue, watching his handiwork as he ties the wrap tightly around my wrist with care. "It's about what happened to… to the kid…"
"Who, Ellie? Did she start bugging Kazuki again?" James jokes, but no – that's not the person that I'm referring to.
"Zayne," I correct myself, noticing his confused expression as I report my inner thoughts. "…did you notice anything off about his death that night? I mean, sure he turned and everything… but the bite we found? On his hand? It didn't even look that old! People don't turn that quickly!"
Putting one finger up for a moment, James stands up to look through the cupboards; doing an inventory check to make sure that there aren't any more missing medical supplies. "I know that," he tells me over his shoulder. "But it doesn't exactly matter now, does it? The boy's dead – there's nothing we can do to bring him back to life."
"Don't you get the feeling that something was going on?"
Satisfied with the count, although undoubtedly wishing that he could have a better stock, James shuts the cupboards back up before pulling a tack out of his desk and sticking the list of supplies he needs on the door. Whether anybody will actually notice it is up for debate.
"I think the better question here," he states, "is why have you waited two years to bring something like this up? Why ask me about Zayne's death now?"
"I… look, some things I just wanted to keep to myself. Things were hectic enough as it was, and I didn't want to spark anything after the group had lost so much," I excuse myself, thinking that maybe that could've been the wrong idea. "There weren't any signs of forced entry – I locked all of the doors to the outside myself. And there weren't any walkers around, unless he got in somewhere that he wasn't supposed to…"
"So what are you suggesting then? That it was one of us who killed that kid?"
"It's a possibility we can't ignore… but you didn't hear it from me," I reaffirm, wanting to make it perfectly clear on that account. I don't want to go start spreading rumours around when I no longer have any real evidence left to support my suspicions, and I don't want to start getting a reputation for being some sort of traitorous gossip around here.
Besides… I've kind of got a vague idea of who it might be, and they're miles away from here right now.
I really don't want to be right about this hunch. Maybe, for now at least, I should just keep this to myself.
Lilly's POV
"Uhh… breaker-breaker, this is Eagle Two radioing in. Please respond, over."
Oh for crying out loud! What could they possibly want now?! Whatever problem this turns out to be, it damn well better be a life-threatening one! These walkie-talkies don't have unlimited usage, you know!
Keeping one hand on the wheel, I press the button and bring the receiver to my mouth. "What do you want now?"
Hearing some giggling on the other end of the line, I frown in annoyance as Racheal tells Kazuki to stop whispering so loudly. Emily responds through the second radio as I hear the fuzzy sound coming in through the little speaker on our device. It's a piece of junk, really, but as long as it can make at least some contact then that's all that matters.
That, and the fact that I no longer have to pay long-distance charges on a cell phone bill anymore.
"There's a distraction up ahead, over. Preventing us from driving safely," she states, thinking that she sounds all professional and such by the way she's speaking. Trust me, if you tried to radio in somebody back at Warner Robbins when you really had no idea what you were doing, they'd probably make you run ten miles just to get the message through your head. Don't screw around!
Feeling slightly concerned, however, I briefly glance over at Jane in the passenger's seat as we try to scan up ahead – looking for walkers, wildlife, people, giant death robots, whatever.
Annoyed, I roughly snatch the stupid thing back up and get ready to tell Emily that she's full of shit. "We can't see anything from up here, Em. What are you looking at?"
"It's you and Jane actually," Emily explains dumbly, causing me to snarl lowly. "All we can see from our car is the two of you making out in the front seat – all lovey-dovey and stuff. Very distracting stuff indeed. You should probably be focusing on your driving, over."
Having more than enough, I toss the piece of junk back for Ellie to toy around with, roll down my window and give them the middle finger as I hear them all laughing hysterically over the radio.
"Calm down, Lils. They're just having a little fun," Jane chuckles, patting my shoulder as I swerve the car side to side. Maybe if I do this enough, then they'll crash into a pole and get stuck there for a few good hours – they wouldn't be laughing then! "Let them have their kicks – sticks and stones, remember?"
"Pfft, easy for you to say! You're not the one constantly asked if you can hear properly all the time!" I complain as I self-consciously brush a piece of hair over top of my damaged earlobe. "They're driving me bonkers! The teasing never stops with them! And you just sitting there taking it all in isn't gonna make them stop any time soon!"
"Would you get a grip, babe? The only reason they're egging you on is 'cause you let them! You're making yourself an easy target, so just chill!"
Hearing Alden groan from the back seat, I glance in the mirror as I see his grumpy form sit up from his relaxed position. "Geez… mind keeping it down already?" he requests, having already driven part of the way here in the first place. "Seriously, you two bicker like an old married couple!"
Smirking to myself slightly, I glance over at Jane affectionately as she leans her head against the side window. I won't ever get over how lucky I managed to become by meeting this wonderful creature so long ago now. We've both gotten a little bit older, but besides a few wrinkles on my forehead and some worry lines already starting to form on Jane's perfect face, I'd say we barely look as though we've aged a day.
Quite an accomplishment from all of the stressful anxiety that we endure almost daily.
"Well," I mumble, thinking that nobody's really listening at this point, "we're not that old yet…"
"…wait, what? WHAT?! YOU'RE MARRIED?!" exclaims Clementine from the back seat as the two of us widen our eyes. Oh shit – we're so busted. "Why wasn't I invited?! I didn't get to do the flower girl thing or even sit in the front row watching you two make kissy faces at each other! Ellie, did you know about this?"
"I had no idea either!"
Chuckling to herself, Jane turns her body around to address the curious and disheartened girls sitting right behind us. "It wasn't really that kind of marriage, kiddo," she explains, showing her the ring that I gave her as Ellie pulls her finger closer towards her. "We kind of wanted to keep it under wraps, you know? Make it a little secret thing… we're not big on huge celebrations."
"Well… aww! Damn it!" Clem whines humorously, having been nearly the first thing she's said since we left yesterday. She's been acting really quiet and reserved, but that's not exactly anything new. Her personality has largely stayed the same over the past few years. "I would've at least tried to make you a cake or something, like seriously!"
Glad to see that she's not totally dead inside just yet, I switch lanes as we roll on down the highway at around eighty miles per hour. Occasionally I'll speed it up even further, but we're not exactly in a huge rush right now. We've got know idea what we're going to encounter once we reach Tulsa.
Hopefully this place won't be as much of a bust as Oklahoma City ended turned out to be – Zayne definitely wasn't lying back then. The place was practically flooding at the seams with walkers.
The past two years have been… well, I'd call it pretty peaceful and much smoother sailing than we had before, but Clementine definitely doesn't seem to think so. She never seems to be satisfied with herself; always mentioning how she should be doing better than she already has. We may not have expanded out into the southern states as quickly as she may have liked, but I think she's done a decent job. We haven't heard anything from Tracy, Josh and the rest of those thugs, but even Alden's got no idea where they may have gone off to.
As long as they stay far away from us, then that's really all that I'd care to find out.
"We should make camp before sundown," Jane advises to which I definitely could agree. We're all physically exhausted after this long trek into the Sooner State. "If there's an off-ramp or anything like that, we should probably pull over and look for a gas station or something. I don't like the idea of just stopping on the side of the highway."
"You just don't wanna sleep in the car again, do you?" I question, grinning as I already know the answer. "Thought so. Ellie, could you tell them we're taking a right as soon as we spot a chance to get off the highway?"
"Sure!" she chirps back to me, muttering into the walkie-talkie as I move away from a broken-down tanker truck. "Katie says that we need to keep moving…"
I hold out my hand to take the thing back from the eight year old girl, but Clementine beats me to it as I slowly retract my arm. Looks like the big boss lady's got this under control now.
"Give it here, I'll talk to them," she says as she pops her head out the window for a brief moment. "Katie? Tell Elliot to make a right – we're making camp. Tulsa's not going anywhere – pull over."
"We're making good time, Clementine! We can't slow down now!"
"I wasn't asking you, I was telling you," Clem retorts firmly, every day sounding more like a leader than the day before. "Pull over now – it'll be good to stretch our legs and get some sleep. I promise we'll be up again at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning."
"You tell 'em, Clem…" Jane mutters so that only I can hear.
They grow up so fast, don't they?
"You know, I'll say one thing about sleeping outdoors," Elliot remarks; a slight grin on his face as we all gather around in a circle. We decided not to have a fire tonight as to not attract too much unwanted attention. "Aside from the bugs, dirt and having to sleep next to you assholes, you can't really replace that view. Just look at that sky…"
"You are so corny, Elliot…" Emily lightly remarks, though everyone's attention is up at the stars so nobody really acknowledges it. As Jane pulls her knees to her chest, I absentmindedly grab onto her hand and lightly stroke it back and forth like a wave on the ocean. She's told me before how that really puts her at ease, and I've found that that goes both ways.
The only ones who aren't really here right now are Ellie, who's fallen fast asleep against Racheal of all people, and Clementine, who's taken a perch up on the roof of the convenience store with a rifle in hand.
I can't help but frown upon seeing her up there; cold and all alone. She used to hate sitting off by herself back in the day, and took great strides to make sure that everyone in the group got included in whatever they were up to. Seeing her like this now, being a lot more reclusive than she once was, it's showing how much has been pushing down on her and taking its toll. It's unfortunate, and I can't help but feel partly responsible for it.
Everybody suddenly jumps when the girl fires off a bullet, but she just acts like absolutely nothing's wrong as she climbs down the ladder and stops anyone from following her.
"Touchy…" Katie remarks offhandedly, laying her legs out flat as Clementine disappears over the hill. "Remind me why she's on watch again? Wasn't it supposed to be your turn, Racheal?"
"I tried to go up there, but she kept insisting that she'd handle it. Wouldn't take no for an answer," she mentions, glancing down as Ellie tries to get back to sleep again. "And since she's not here right now, I'll be asking this since nobody else seems to have the balls to do it. How far are we willing to go for this? Is it really worth risking our own necks to try and unite a bunch of assholes out in the woods? Are we just gonna go across the States, or what's going on here?"
"Well, Racheal, let me counter that with my own question," Jane irks with a little bit of hostility. The two of them really haven't gotten along very well, and it really shows. "How far would you like us to go?"
"Don't be a smart-ass, alright? I'm not looking for an argument tonight," she sighs, getting the attention of everyone in the circle. "Apparently saving the universe is what's in right now, but is that really reasonable? What about us? We can't just keep inviting people in and expect nothing to go wrong! Trying to unite every single state is ridiculous – what's wrong with what we have?"
Giving my head a shake to keep the bangs from falling over my eyes, I clear my throat and try to explain things in simple English terms. Noooo, I'm not being sarcastic in the slightest.
What would've given you that idea?
"First off, you guys wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Clementine, so questioning every move she makes isn't helping," I lightly fume, keeping my usual snappiness to myself so that Jane doesn't have to try and tame the bull. "Second, unless we get the people on our side, none of this is gonna matter. Supplies don't just grow on trees, and eventually we might get close to running out. So having other groups on our side would be enough to keep it going for at least a few more years. Besides, who would try and fuck with us if we had a huge army of survivors out here?"
"We're not soldiers, and nobody's joining the army…" Kelly interjects, frowning at my choice of words. "That's not who I want to be labelled as – I'm more than just somebody with a gun out in the wastes. All of us are more than that! We've… we've still got our whole lives to look forward to…"
Aside from Elliot not really agreeing with that last part as he scoffs and shakes his head, the rest of us fall silent as Alden returns from his looting through the convenience store.
"Nothing really, except this harmonica and a few stale packs of gum," he shrugs, tossing one pack over to Kazuki and another one in Ellie's lap as she peacefully dreams. Lucky her… I'd love to be able to sleep through all of this racket we're making. "Oh, and some old winning lottery tickets, so… pick a number through one and fifty."
"Seriously? We're doing this right now?" Katie deadpans as Emily tells her to shut up. "Fine, fine… but you better have a couple million in your pocket right now! I never got to win the big one beforehand!"
Rooting around in his pocket, Alden pulls out an almost-ruined twenty dollar bill and sets it out in the middle of the circle as Katie chuckles in astonishment.
"Between one and fifty," he repeats himself, wiping off the harmonica as he hands it off to Elliot. It turns out that he was quite the little entertainer back before all of this started; playing in a small band with his buddies as they tried to pick up gigs wherever they could. "First one to get it right gets the twenty… and the other gum pack in my pocket. Go."
"Forty-seven!"
"Thirty-nine!"
"Twenty-six!"
"Damn, that was fast," Alden laughs, tossing another pack of gum over to Kazuki, who then proceeds to open it and share it with the rest of the group.
The twenty dollars, though? That she puts in her pocket – you know, for all those stores that actually accept cold, hard cash nowadays. I guess she could count it as good luck if she feels like it, but really the money has no real value anymore.
I'm starting to wonder, with all of this bartering for food and supplies that goes on these days, if money ever meant anything back then.
As a number of people hit the hay – enticed into a nice slumber from Elliot's soft harmonica playing – I stand up and stretch out my back a little bit.
"I'm gonna go check in on Clem," I whisper to Jane, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"Want me to go with you?"
"Nah, I've got this. I'm thinking there's some things we ought to talk about," I explain, getting a knowing nod from my partner as I leave an indent in the grass. "Make sure this crazy kid over here doesn't get into trouble, alright Kazuki? No wild parties!"
Earning a soft laugh from the thirteen year old, I head off down the grassy hill in the dark to try and see where Clementine might've wandered off to. I know that she was checking in on that walker that she had killed before, but that was well over half an hour ago and she hasn't returned to the roof since.
Turns out that she's just sitting on the side of the hill; one knee bent forwards so that she won't go tumbling downwards. The walker lies dead in a pile of mud at the bottom.
"Scoot over, Corporal Clem. I don't like the idea of you being out here by yourself for so long," I order as she jumps a little bit in surprise. When she sees that it's just me and not some stranger out to come and mug her, her tension simmers a little bit as she shuffles to the side. Taking a seat beside her, I decide to use the brief moment of silence to pull out a hair tie and tie this mess back a little bit. I really need a trim soon.
Clem's is getting pretty long, too, but she's still wearing her hair back in those two pigtails that I've seen her with for so long now. To be honest, I can't even fully remember what she looked like the first time that I met her, but a lot more has changed since then besides just her looks. The sweet, innocent little girl has turned into a tough survivor and has practically undergone a complete transformation in the process.
"Aren't you cold out here?" I question as I try to untangle a few knots behind my head; noticing how her long-sleeved shirt doesn't look like it gives out much warmth. "We should probably find you something better than that. Maybe an actual jacket this time instead of that poncho thingy that you used to wear. What do you think?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Clementine just keeps on staring out in the distance. Tulsa looks so tiny from here, almost looking as though you could reach out with your hand and pick it up. The place used to be a smaller city from what I could gather from a brochure, but now it's more than likely a ghost town with only a few inhabitants. Nature, like it has in most places, has likely already started taking back what was hers beforehand. Most of the places we go to nowadays have grass and weeds forming in between the cracks in the road, and other plant life has usually started to find its way back in.
Clementine seems really distant right now – I can tell by looking in her eyes. It's kind of a weird phenomenon in some senses, what with her being so focused and on the ball when the group needs her to be, but so lost and vacant when there's nothing urgent going on.
In other words, she's here… but she's not really here, if that makes any sense.
"I've got a good feeling about this one, actually," I mention, pointing out to the horizon. "If Oklahoma City was a dead zone, then this is likely one of the first places people would flock to, right? We'll hit the place up first thing in the morning, find what we need and get back on our way. Depending on the gas situation, we might even be able to keep searching some of the nearby places. It's mostly farmland the further north you go, but – "
"Lilly?" she cuts in softly; a pained look on her face as she slowly takes her hat off for a brief moment. I've gotta say, she looks pretty darn cute when her hair's all curly like that. "Was it… was it this hard for you? When we were all at the motor inn?"
Taken aback, I struggle to find the right words to say as I recall my time spent as the leader of that group. Shit fell apart near the end, but I'm pretty sure we lasted for a solid six months before the end.
It actually occurs to me now – Clem and I are the only remaining survivors from that group. Everyone else is dead now, whether through dumb luck or poor planning I'm not entirely sure, but we're the last people left.
I'm sure if they were here, the majority of the motel crew would harbor a bitter resentment towards me and say what an absolutely shitty job I did, and that all they would remember is my fuck up on the side of the road. I suppose that it really makes no difference now, though.
"Some days were better than others," I shrug, having the ache of my time there dulled over the years. It doesn't really hurt me to talk about that stuff anymore. "Not everyone's going to agree with your decisions, and sometimes the people you're trying to take care of are gonna doubt your every move. But… sometimes being a bossy bitch like me helped set them straight a little bit. I wasn't out to win friends at the time…"
"…I don't think I'm the right fit for this anymore…"
Widening my eyes, I turn to see Clementine with her shoulders slouched downwards, head hanging low and eyes turning misty. What the heck happened to the confident little ball of bad ass that I saw earlier today?
…oh, I get it now. This seems all too familiar to me.
Strong when she needs to be, vulnerable when she's alone. I wonder if this happens to her a lot; if she lays awake at night just second guessing herself all the time. It must be incredibly difficult to have to act all tough and reliable in front of everyone all the time, and then to hear the kind of stuff that people say behind her back… I'm getting pissed off just thinking about it.
She deserves way better than what she's got to deal with right now.
"I-I can't do it…" she whimpers, looking distraught as I try and figure out what to do. I've never been good with this sort of thing – somebody needs to come help! "How can I lead these people… when all I do is screw things up? I mean, what the hell are we even doing out here?! I left the space centre alone with three people to guard it, and here I am out in some stupid field!"
"Whoa, now come on… You're being too hard on yourself, Clem. Where's all this coming from?" I question, awkwardly rubbing circles on her back as she has a little break down. "You've kept this crew together – you know that just as well as I do! Do you really think that I could've bargained with them and kept my cool with those guys down there like you did? Or Jane? Clem, the two of us can't go one whole day without getting angry about the sun coming up!"
A little bit of embellishment may have been required, but my exaggeration at least gets the giggles going from Clem through the tears.
But unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be enough.
"I've done… things… Such awful shit…" she murmurs, barely making any sense to me. Things? We've all done bad shit out here! What's so different about what she's been doing that it warrants all of this self-doubt she's been carrying? "I… I ki – "
Before she can finish, she stops as the both of us hear some kind of whirring sound through the air; almost as if the wind's being chopped up in the distance somewhere. Standing up on the hill, I cup my hand over my eyes and squint to try and figure out where that noise is coming from.
It sounds incredibly familiar…
"…what the fuck…?" I whisper, unable to believe my eyes as I point to the object flying in towards the city. "It can't be… who the hell would be flying a helicopter out here anymore?"
"Th-that means there's people out there," Clementine remarks, wiping her face with her sleeve as she springs into action. "Keep an eye on it, Lilly! Everybody, you need to wake up right now! We've got movement out there! Pack your things – we're leaving!"
That's why it was so familiar… it looked a hell of a lot like the ones kept at Warner Robbins! But where would they even find the fuel for one of those things, let alone the actual chopper itself? It seems too good to be true…
Making sure that my gun is secured and ready to go, I keep an eye on the bird until it touches down onto the roof of a building inside the city.
Time to pay these folks a visit.