Jane's POV

This right here is pretty fucking weird. For the past ten minutes, Alden and I have been standing here in the main foyer just silently watching Clementine hunching over the corn baskets. Her back is turned towards us, so I can't tell what it is exactly that she's thinking, but whatever it is, I don't think it's good.

But what could be the holdup? We did everything according to the usual plan didn't we? Head over to the farm, sign the paper, trade the goods, and get out.

"…you're sure you didn't leave anything in the helicopter?"

Glancing over to Alden, who's shaking his head, I answer her to the best of my ability. "Nope, Katie even made sure that we dug underneath the seats to check for any leftover crap. The chopper's been swiped clean," I explain as she finally turns around with a piece of corn grasped firmly in her hand. Damn… didn't think that I'd ever feel a little bit intimidated by Clementine of all people.

Tossing the husk of corn up and down in her hand, Clementine sighs before tossing it back in the basket. "Well," she remarks in annoyance, "looks like we just got ripped off."

Alarmed, since I'm sure that I didn't make a single mistake this time, I head over to the basket as she continues to explain herself. I keep my eyes down purposely upon noticing Lilly walk by, but she seems to have the same idea as she practically ignores me and heads off to do… whatever it is she likes to these days. It's not as if I'm following her around.

"Twenty five decent pieces of corn might be enough to last this place a week, and not a day longer. And even that's being a little bit generous," she tells me as I burrow to the bottom of the basket, only to find that over half the ones he sent us have already gone rotten beyond saving.

"That slimy son of a…"

"I thought you guys were going to make sure to check before taking it back. You know they're not always honest about this sort of thing!" she lectures us as I swear under my breath. "How are we supposed to feed everyone for two weeks on rotten vegetables? We don't exactly have a cow out back for milk and cheese!"

Alden, trying to come up with a suitable excuse on my behalf, tries to ease his way into the conversation, but I won't have any of it. No, this wasn't his fault – I was the one making the drop-off, so it's my responsibility. That means that I need to face the consequences.

Still, though, I shrug my shoulders as Clementine nearly slaps herself in the face.

"We're going to have to make do with something else then for the time being. Maybe send people out on a few extra scavenging runs this week, I don't know," I pop out an example. Too often have things like this gone wrong, and too often have people gone pretty hungry late at night because of little mistakes. But we'll get through this sort of thing, like we always have. "Clem, you've gotta throw me a bone, here. It was a long trip, and I wasn't exactly in the most energetic of moods…"

"Then maybe you should've let Alden go through with it, then," she mutters icily, picking up a basket and turning on her heel as I frown behind her back.

Where the hell is all of this snappiness coming from? I know that the late teens and early twenties are a time where many people find their elders to be annoying or not having a clue about what the hell they're talking about, but even that doesn't line up. I'm her friend, not her mother, and I certainly haven't gone out of my way to nag her about how to live her life. So what's her beef with me? This doesn't make any sense!

Seeming to notice my discomfort, Alden appears by my side as he clutches onto another basket while I carry the other one. "Stress is probably just getting to her, Jane. I wouldn't worry too much about it," he suggests, although I figure that she'd at least apologize afterwards if it was simply something to do with that. "Maybe we should all just try to stay out of her way for a little while. Just to play it safe, you know?"

"Hmph… it's not as if the workload's getting any easier, Alden. If we keep ignoring this, shit's only gonna keep on piling up," I retort, causing his eyes to look downcast a little bit as I hear him sigh. "She's been in pretty shitty situations like this before – acting out, pushing people away – but usually the fix is for me to just talk it out and try to take her mind off of things. Maybe that's what she needs now."

"If you say so…"

Something's been pulling that girl and I apart recently. She won't always be open and honest with me about her mental condition, and whenever I bring it up she'll usually just tell me that nothing's wrong with her, even though I know that isn't true. If anything, and I haven't told a soul this yet, but her illness might actually just be getting worse. A few nights each week, when I do my late evening rounds to patrol the hallway, I'll sometimes hear her voice through a crack in her doorway; answering questions that no one even asked, pacing around her office and having imaginary conversations with her parents…

On the one opportunity that I opened the door and whispered asking if she was okay, she nearly toppled over as she got this tense look on her face. It hurt a little bit seeing her like that, if I'm being honest. She looked afraid of me, as if I was just some intruder barging in on her private space. I've seen Clem at her lowest point now, and I'm worried that the others have already started to find out.

None of them will admit it though, because most people around here are either too afraid to talk to her about it, or just choose to be blissfully ignorant about her schizophrenia. Nobody wants to admit that the person in charge of their camp is seeing enough people to fill an entire shopping mall, meanwhile this base still has almost a dozen rooms with no occupants.

What really scares me about this though, is that she won't confront this for herself. Aside from the one instant where Lilly and I forced her to come clean, she won't go out of her way to seek help when the two of us are offering it to her. She's just so intent on helping everyone else that she won't even stop and examine the damage she's doing to herself.

"Hold up for a sec," Alden pauses, listening intently as I try to make heads or tails of what he's trying to tell me. "…hear that?"

Setting the basket down on a nearby table and wiping my hands off on a curtain, I keep quiet as I hear the faint sound of talking in the distance. But where the hell is it coming from? Why don't I recognize the voices, and why does it sound… dangerous?

One quick glance out the window towards the back entrance has me all up in a tizzy.

"Oh god, no…" I mutter, whipping my head back around to Alden and telling him to warn everyone immediately of the oncoming intruders. It's not a huge group of them, but they're packing enough heat to really pose as a potential threat.

Sure, the one time that Lilly's not at her post is the one time that a group of heavily armed strangers decide to show up. Of course…

I can't really tell if anyone's in charge of this little group that they've got going for them here, since none of them seem to be handing out any orders for this little attack plan of theirs. It seems to me that they're all just trying to cooperate with one another, even though some of these people look to be pretty sketchy and ruthless characters. Six of them are spaced out fairly evenly out in the back, and as one of them pull a pin out of a circular-looking thing and send it rolling towards the door, I immediately holler for whoever's close by to get out as quickly as they can.

Unfortunately, the warning comes far too late. In an instant, a thunderous roar belts through the space centre as the back door is blown wide open. I watch as Trevor, our newest handyman around the base, stumbles out from behind the door and collapses face-first onto the ground; dead as a doornail with half of his face blown off, and the rest of his body chock-full of shrapnel from the explosion. With a mighty war cry, the bastards rush inside and trample over his body in their race to try and take over.

I have to duck for cover as one of the men spot me. In his panic, he sprays off rounds of machine gun fire at the window as shards of glass shower down on top of my head; only covered by my hands as I feel the tiny pieces dig into my skin a little bit. The stinging sensation is only numbed by my worry for my friends' safety.

Where are Ellie, Lilly and Clementine?!

Lilly's POV

God damn it… I am so getting blamed for this shit once we dispatch these assholes. To be fair, they appeared out of absolutely nowhere, and there's not a trace of evidence to prove otherwise. I just happened to have left my post for a few minutes in order to grab a pistol from the armory downstairs, but knowing some of the people living with us, that's likely not going to matter. In their eyes, I will have fucked up hugely. It's like the motor-inn all over again.

Counting the round in my pistol as I hide behind a flipped table in the dining hall, I stay hidden as best I can as I hear the intruders talk amongst themselves.

"I thought you said this place was impenetrable! We've been here ten minutes and haven't had any resistance!"

"Shh! Fucking idiot… Don't jinx anything! They don't create rumours about places like these unless they were actually true!"

"But aren't rumours supposed to be…"

"Shut the fuck up, Pat! Go check over there! We can't take any chances with this – kill everything that moves!"

Oh boy… these guys have no idea what they've just walked into here. No way are we about to let them prance in here and take over, especially now that they're all in the same place. We may have been a little unprepared in the beginning, and some lives may have been lost in the process, but the best thing we can do now to honour their memories is to avenge them – either kill these goons or drive them back.

However, this really is nothing new, and it doesn't surprise me in the slightest. Whenever there's a rumour of a place that's doing better than what everyone else is dealing with, there are always those who'd want to take it from you – by any means necessary. I've lost count of how many times we've been attacked like this now, but each time we've been able to contain the blows. Usually we can do it while keeping our own casualties to a minimum, but these guys seem a little more organized than the usual party that we come across. They came here with a purpose.

That purpose is pretty fucking stupid, but still.

Spotting Marcus, Emily and Kazuki all hiding just outside the door, beckoning me to come towards them, I shake my head solemnly and stay where I am. If I make a run for it now, chances are that I'm gonna get spotted and fired at upon sight. No way am I taking a risk like that, even if it means that I have to stay glued to this dining table.

Making a pistol with my fingers, I wait for Marcus to get the message as he reluctantly nods his head. My heart rate speeds up a little bit as I wait in anticipation. This better go well…

Clutching onto my gun tightly with both hands, I take a deep breath and prepare myself for a full-on assault from behind cover; hoping that this table is sturdy enough to at least deflect some of their bullets. I lean my back against the wooden construct and count to three in my head.

"Well look at this! What do we got here?"

All at once my plan almost immediately falls to shit. Keeping my head down and covered, I slowly peek out from the side of the table to see what's going on; thinking that either Marcus, Emily or Kaz have been caught, but it's actually none of the above. No, instead, snatched up in a death grip is little Willis, one of Ellie's younger friends that she used to frequently play with growing up. The kid looks positively terrified, with his eyes as large as dinner plates and his bottom lip trembling as his kidnapper waves a gun around him in a completely reckless fashion.

"Shit…" I whisper quietly, hiding behind the table again as I consider my options. There are five of them remaining, as it seems that one of them got killed just out in the hallway somewhere, but my odds are still against me. I could try and get their attention focused on me so that Willis could get a chance to run for it, but that might just put the both of us in danger…

"So, who's willin' to negotiate here? We ain't seen y'all for a while now," the captor mentions, looking each way as his buddies try to cover the doorways. How Marcus and the others managed to get out of their vision I have no idea, but I'm more concerned with my own wellbeing at the moment, along with Willis'. "Really? Nobody? Damn, these fuckers are ice cold, Pat. They're willing to give up a fucking little boy just to save their own skins…"

Unable to take it anymore, I crawl on my stomach over to a better angle along the wall. All I need is one good shot on the kidnapper to give Willis the chance he needs. Making my way over, and cringing as I accidentally bang my foot against the end of the table, I steel my nerves as I immediately turn around and aim my gun to where I think they'll be coming towards me.

I'm about to pull the trigger, when all of a sudden my gaze turns towards the second doorway as I see Jane of all people trying to come help me out. She's got her hunting knife out, but I quickly shake my head when she sees me huddled against the wall. No way am I letting her die for me today – regardless of whether we're together or not, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if she were to get killed on my behalf.

With all of my primary focus now pinpointed on getting her out of here, I instantly pull the trigger as soon as the first man turns around. The bullet pierces straight through his forehead as he lands on the ground with a thud, and the real fight finally begins. There's so much gunfire in the air that my ears start to ring, and I just barely manage to duck for cover as bullets rip the wooden table to shreds.

Screams pierce my eardrums as I try to just wait the massacre out, knowing fully well that those shrieks weren't those of a grown man. Somebody's down, and my darkest fears may be coming true. That smell of blood and gun powder is simply disgusting, as if the scent of death is literally polluting the air we're breathing.

But all the while, I keep praying – no, begging – that Jane hadn't just tried to play the hero card and take on more than she can handle. I'm partially reassured knowing that she's usually the type to keep her distance from conflict in these tense situations (unless it calls for it), but I can't be certain.

Once all the noise and chaos dies down, replaced instead with some shuffling, snivelling and tears, I take a chance and poke my head up to examine the damage. Unfortunately, it seems to be pretty irreversible.

The bandits are dead except for one who happened to run out of bullets, but he's been pinned to the ground by a seething Marcus, whose eyes alone are enough to get the guy trembling in fear. I've never seen him so pissed off before, but I can see why.

Willis, the little boy who hadn't done anything wrong by anyone, has been shot to pieces, and is barely holding on as his mother screams and rushes inside; followed closely by the rest of the group as we all come together as a family.

Jane, seemingly winded after getting kneed in the stomach by one of her attackers, glances over at me as I jog over towards her. "You… good?" she asks me dumbly as I bend down beside her.

Turning my head back to the carnage for a moment, I keep my stoic look as I spot Clementine eyeing the bandit with disgust. "I don't really know how to answer that," I admit, watching her give Marcus the go-ahead as he and Alden drag the bastard outside. By his screams and pleads for forgiveness, I think we can all safely assume that his fate has been sealed.

And as far as I'm concerned, he deserves getting a bullet to the head today – possibly even more than that.

"Willis… oh my god, no… my baby… my baby boy…" his mother sobs, cradling the child in her arms as he struggles to breathe. It won't be long until he ceases to be, and we all know what's going to happen next. If it could happen to a guy like my dad, as well as the millions of others who came before and after him, then we all know that the kid doesn't stand a chance.

"…why were we not prepared for this?"

"Not the time, Racheal," Clementine warns, giving her a cold stare as Racheal clenches her fists.

"No, you're right. We should just ignore what's on everyone's mind. No sense in trying to figure out where we fucked up," she sarcastically replies, getting irritated as Emily starts to escort a lot of the kids and younger teenagers out of the room. They don't need to see this. "This can't wait, Clementine. We need answers – how they got in undetected, who was supposed to be covering the walls, and what we need to do to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"For fuck sakes, Racheal! Show a little compassion!" I belt out, so sick and tired of listening to her bitch at Clementine. Why can't she just open her eyes and see what's really going on here? "We've just lost people to these maniacs, and you going on like this isn't winning you any favours! Just let them grieve in peace for a while, Jesus…"

Placing two hands on her hips as many pairs of eyes fall upon me, Racheal shakes her head and scoffs at Katie decides to jump into the conversation. "Weren't you the one supposed to be up on watch, Lilly? Doesn't this make you responsible?"

Caught with my foot in my mouth, I say no more and instead pretend that I'm trying to tend to Jane. In reality, I just want to get away from all the intense, accusing stares being dished out my way. This is such bullshit… they're right of course, in a way, but I was coming back up to my post! I was on my way there! The coast was clear when I left the rooftop, and I couldn't have been gone for more than twenty minutes tops!

But none of that's going to matter to them. No, instead I'm going to be labelled as an incapable hypocrite who may have just ruined the lives of at least five people and counting.

Jane tries to come to my defense, but Clementine beats her to it as she tries to calm everyone down. "What happened here was nobody's fault, alright? Accidents happen, and all we have to do is take some time to grieve, but also to – "

"Just cut the crap, Clementine…" Willis' mother scolds, forcing her to look down at the child as her tears fall freely down her cheeks. By all accounts, the boy is already dead, but unless something's done, there's no way she's going to let him go. "This was no accident… My baby… he's gone… because of you and your people… We… we should've been prepared for this shit! This… this is all your fault!"

…really? That's what this is coming to? What a load of shit… after all that she's done for this group, after all that she's sacrificed in order to get us this far, now they're going to turn on her when it's fucking convenient for them?!

"Gimme a break!" Jane speaks up, feeling more at ease to speak when her stomach settles down. She's got to raise her voice among the crowd of disgruntled survivors, all of whom are starting to look as though they want somebody to blame. "Are you all fucking serious right now?! Clem?! Why the hell would you be blaming her when this is just as much your fault as anyone else's?! Maybe if you had actually tried to help out and defend this place instead of cowering in your rooms, then maybe people might've still been alive!"

"We don't see you stepping up to help either, Jane! I saw you hiding behind the door while they were holding Willis hostage! You didn't even step in until it was too late!"

"Yeah! Where's our line of defense when we needed you, huh?! Where were you?! ANSWER ME THAT!"

"YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE HERE! YOU PEOPLE ARE RUNNING THIS PLACE INTO THE FUCKING GROUND!"

Well, this went to hell in a heartbeat, to say the least. Not only are the people really looking pissed off about their own people dying (something that they've conveniently forgot was happening long before this), but now they're starting to turn against us. Nobody's violently lashed out yet, but I think that this may be the start of something more than just a few popular opinions. They're really starting to hate our guts, and something tells me that this has been going on for a while.

Unable to get a word in among the angry mob, many of whom are obviously just upset and acting irrationally, I take a few cautionary steps back as I actually feel a little frightened of our own group members. I never thought that it would actually come to something like this, but we may be getting one step closer to that coming to fruition. We just went through a violent attack at the hands of some outside thugs – the last thing we need is a riot with more bullet shells flying around.

"…get to the truck…" I mention to Jane lowly, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible so that they won't know what I'm talking about. "Jane, run. We're leaving, as soon as possible, alright? Get going, I'll meet you there…"

BAM!

All at once, every voice in the room stops abruptly. No more venomous insults, no more conspiracy theories, no more outbursts.

Just Clementine with a smoking gun and a bullet in Willis' undead brain.

"…we do what we have to in order to survive; to live," Clementine quietly mutters, walking towards Jane and I with Lilly in tow as nobody tries to stop her. Not that anyone would really want to regardless, as even I'm a little disturbed at what she had just done. No hesitation, and very little remorse. His mother is close to having a conniption as the rest of the group starts to gather round. "Let's go. We need to gather some supplies and replenish our stocks, and they're not going to do it themselves."

Freaked out a little by her almost mechanical behaviour, with little to no emotion spread across her face as Ellie hesitantly falls in behind her, I turn towards Jane with a shocked expression.

The message here is pretty clear – Clem's been hardened, and I don't think there's much we can do to bring her back.

Choosing to leave before things get too much of a hassle around here, I take one look back at the crowd of people before hurrying along after my companions.

What the hell has happened to us?