Clementine watched the old two-story grocery store closest to the roadblock from the safety of the Brave's passenger seat. It was a humble building with a couple of brick columns holding up the end of the top floor that hung over the front door like an awning, complete with a sign that read 'Grant Grocery' nailed between two windows.

Clothes hanging from a laundry line planted in the side yard indicated people were living here, and the presence of blue coats drying in the sun suggested there was a good possibility Deacon was amongst the people staying here. However, Clem had elected to wait and watch for signs of activity, fearing another encounter with Tanner if she approached the store.

"Anything?" mumbled Sarah, who was resting on the couch.

"Not since those last few guys walked out." Clem felt bad waking Sarah so early, but she reasoned they needed to find where Deacon was staying before dawn if they wanted any chance of running into him today. "Wait, I think I see him." Clem's words seemed to stir a sleepy Sarah, who moved towards the front of the RV. Emerging from the building was a man and a shorter, younger man. "That's… not him."

Sarah moved back to the couch as Clem studied the pair of people in blue coats. The younger man appeared too tall to be Deacon and the older one too old to be Tanner. The older one held a rifle while the younger one seemed to have a rope coiled up in his hands. They conversed briefly before moving behind the building.

"I just realized something," said Clem.

"What?" mumbled Sarah as she lay down.

"I don't think anyone here knows that walkers don't attack you if you smell like they do."

"What makes you think that?" asked Sarah in a quiet voice.

"None of the coats Tanner's people wear look all that dirty, so I don't think they've ever done it. Rhonda said they had to lure walkers into the water, and Patty talked about how she was left to die once by Rhonda," recalled Clem. "I don't think anyone here has ever figured it out."

Sarah sat up. "We should tell them then," spoke the older girl.

"Maybe," said Clem as she watched the store.

"What do you mean maybe?" asked Sarah as she moved to the driver's seat.

"I mean maybe," shrugged Clem. "We don't know if these are good people yet. If they're all like Patty, Rhonda, and Tanner, we wouldn't want them knowing something important like that. It would just make it easier for them to take things they'd never share with other people."

"But they can't all be like that," said Sarah. "Deacon lives here and he's good. Besides, I don't want anyone here to die because a lurker eats them, even if a lot of them are mean."

"Really? You don't even want Tanner to die?" asked Clem in surprise.

Sarah pondered Clem's question. "Well, I don't want him to die because of us. If something else killed him, I don't think it'd bother me that much, but it seems wrong not to tell people there's a way to get past lurkers."

"I don't know. If he wasn't such an asshole, we wouldn't mind telling him," argued Clem. "Why does he deserve to know something that might save his life when he doesn't care about ours or even a little baby's?"

"I didn't say he did, but Deacon deserves to know."

"Well, we can tell just him," shrugged Clem.

"You don't think he'd tell Tanner? I mean, that's basically his job."

"Well, maybe if I ask him not to tell then—"

"Then you're asking him to do the same thing I don't think is right," said Sarah. "The lurkers have killed enough people; we should tell the people here about the smell before anyone else gets eaten."

"There's like no walkers left around here," argued Clem. "The only people who would care would be like Rhonda or Patty, and I don't want to help them."

"Still, wouldn't it be better if people knew, in case they did have to fight walkers, like a herd or something came here?"

"Maybe," shrugged Clem. "But let's wait before we talk to anyone about using the walker smell."

"Wait for how long?"

"At least until I talk to Deacon again," said Clem. "Then I'll know if there're other good people who deserve to know." Clem watched as another young man and an older man emerged from the building. "That's him, and that's Tanner."

"How can you tell?" asked Sarah.

"By the way he's yelling at that boy." Clem watched as the older man angrily gestured to the younger man, who seemed to be hunched over in shame.

"Poor Deacon," said Sarah as she watched the scene from the driver's seat.

"Look, he's coming this way." The older man headed towards the barricade while the younger one started walking down the road in the other direction. "That definitely looks like him." Clem got up from her seat and collected her backpack from the table.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Sarah as she approached Clem.

"Deacon helped us, I should help him," reasoned Clem.

"I get that, but…"

"But what?"

"This place just gives me the creeps," said Sarah. "Deacon said his parents died and nobody here ever really helped him? And if he doesn't do what Tanner says he won't get anything to eat? And there's an island they won't let other people on if they're not helpful enough? This whole place reminds me a lot of Shaffer's."

"These people didn't steal everything we have, lock us in a cage, beat us up, and force us to work for food," reminded Clem.

"I know all that and I'm not saying it's as bad as Shaffer's, but—"

"But it's still not a good place," concluded Clem. "I just want to help Deacon today since he helped us yesterday and got in trouble. We don't have to stay here, but we should at least do that."

"Yeah, I agree, I'm just worried about you going out there without your gun or knife."

"I'll be okay," assured Clem with a smirk. "And I'll be with Deacon."

"Well if anything bad happens, just call me on the radio and I'll come get you," assured Sarah.

"I will." Clem leaned in close and wrapped her arms around Sarah, who seemed to be hugging tighter than usual, which Clem didn't mind. Heading outside, Clem discovered it was a cool morning, but not cold. The grass was fresh with morning dew and looking out at the sun rising against the clear sky, Clem felt like this was going to be a good day. Spotting Deacon walking along the road, the girl ran towards the young man.

"Deacon," called Clem. "Wait up."

Deacon stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, hey. Clementine right?" he said as Clem ran up to him.

"Yeah," she said.

"I can't stop right now," said Deacon as he started walking again. "I've gotta get out to the orchard."

"That's why I'm here," said Clem. "I wanted to help you today."

"What for?"

"For helping us yesterday."

"Well, that's nice, but I don't think there's much you can do to help, unless you want to spend all day collecting oranges," shrugged Deacon.

"Sure, I could do that."

"Really? I mean, it really is going to be all day."

"They're not going to starve you, are they?"

"I'll get all the oranges I can eat," shrugged Deacon. "And you probably will too."

"Then I'll come."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Let me just tell Sarah." Clem removed her radio from her belt. "Sarah?"

"Clem? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just wanted you to know I'll be helping Deacon pick oranges and it might take all day. Will you be okay without me?"

"Yeah, I can spend the whole day with Omid," said Sarah.

"Now I'm jealous," giggled Clem.

"Just call me if you need anything."

"I will." Clem clipped the radio back to her belt and looked at Deacon.

"Well… thanks." Deacon smiled at Clem, which made her smile. Looking ahead, Clem spotted an old yellow pickup truck parked on the side of the road. Standing outside the truck were a couple of men wearing baseball hats, one young and one old. As Clem and Deacon approached, the older man looked over at the pair. He was a fairly elderly fellow with big jowls and soft eyes that made Clem feel at ease.

"Deacon, you ready to work?" asked the elderly man.

"As ready as ever I suppose, Mack," shrugged Deacon.

The older man looked at Clementine. "Um… who's she?"

"She's a friend who said she'd help out," explained Deacon.

"This little girl is your friend?"

Clem scowled at hearing the word little. "I am," she said. "And I can help out too."

"Does her folks know she's here?" asked Mack.

"Well—"

"They know," stated Clem. "And you could have just asked me."

The man scratched his head. "Well, just keep an eye on her. I don't want someone coming after me because they said I lost their kid."

Clem grimaced at being called a kid, but followed after Deacon as he approached the truck. To Clem's surprise, he didn't head for the cab but for the bed, lowering the tailgate as he reached the back of the vehicle.

"We're riding in the back?" asked Clem.

"Don't worry, it's not far." Deacon climbed into the bed and Clementine followed. Tied off in the back of the truck where six big white barrels along with a few black buckets stacked in each other. Taking a closer look, Clementine discovered the barrels and buckets were all empty.

"Nice hat." Clem turned to see the younger man was looking at her as he closed the tailgate. He was a lot older than Deacon and had broad shoulders and stubble clinging to his face.

"Um… thanks," said Clem, finding herself uneasy as the man stared at her.

"I was just trying to figure out what team it was for," said the man.

"Team?"

"My old man likes the Buccaneers but I'm for the Dolphins," said the man as he gestured to his white cap with a dolphin printed on it. "Well I guess we were, seeing as they're gone now, but we still argue about—"

"Ted, quit your jabbering," called Mack. "You're holding everything up." Clem watched as Ted joined Mack in the cab of the truck.

"So… what team is it?" asked Deacon.

"Um… none I think."

Clem felt the truck rumble beneath her feet as the engine started and hastily sat down. The vehicle pulled out onto the road, and Clementine watched as they sped off towards their destination. They stopped briefly at the barricade so someone could open the way, then started cruising down a rural road. Clem peered over the edge of the truck and saw nothing but greenery. There were more than palm trees here and they were still all green, appearing unaffected by winter, and the land seemed untouched by the walkers. It'd be tranquil if not for the bumpy ride and smell of exhaust in the air.

The truck made a sudden right turn and Clem found they were moving onto a small dirt road. Looking ahead, she saw rows of trees in the distance. They were different from the trees she had seen elsewhere, being too short to be palm trees and too round to be pines. As they moved closer, Clem could see them hanging from the branches; big, bright, oranges just waiting to be picked. Moving further down the dirt road, Clementine was awestruck at the seemingly endless bounty of fresh fruit that surrounded her and stretched all the way into the horizon. Even the air smelled fresher, having a hint of citrus in it that was more potent then the truck's exhaust.

"Oh my God," spoke Clem in a whisper.

"I know, we're going to be picking for hours," spoke a weary Deacon.

The truck came to a stop and Clem watched as Mack and Ted emerged from the cab. Deacon grabbed a bucket and Clementine followed his lead. Ted lowered the tailgate and the pair hopped off the back of the truck.

"You know what to do, right Deacon?" asked Mack.

"Yes sir I do," nodded Deacon.

"All right, then get started," nodded Mack. "You can explain it to your friend as you work."

"Yes sir."

"And watch out for snakes," said Ted.

"Snakes?" asked Clem.

"Don't worry, they almost never come around here."

"Almost?" Clem's plea seemed to fall on deaf ears as Deacon moved away from the truck and headed towards the nearest tree. "So, what do we do?" asked Clementine as she followed behind Deacon.

"First, we look for any oranges on the ground," said Deacon as he approached the nearest tree. "And then you stuff them into a bucket." Clem watched as Deacon approached a couple of fallen oranges. He collected one while Clementine grabbed the other, examining it before placing it in her bucket.

"This isn't so hard," said Clem.

"Yeah, well, pace yourselves, we've got a lot of trees to check."

Clementine looked up at the massive corridor of orange trees stretched out before her. "How many trees do we have to check?"

"All of them."

Checking the orchard for stray oranges wasn't hard, but it was a tedious, tiring task. Clementine had hoped to pass the time by talking with Deacon as they worked, but the constant scouring for loose oranges and trips back to the truck when they filled their bucket made regular conversation difficult. All Clem managed to ask was why they weren't just picking oranges to save time, and Deacon told her it's because oranges still on the branch will stay good longer, so they always get the ones that have fallen off first.

Reaching the end of the orange trees, Clementine was shocked to discover there were more rows waiting to be checked beyond the two they had just surveyed. With the sun rising higher in the sky, Clem found herself sweating as she soldiered on, grabbing any loose fruit she found and hauling it back to the truck where Mack inspected it before dumping it in a barrel.

The only saving grace in this mind-numbing task was anytime Clementine felt parched, she could stop to eat one of the oranges. After an hour working in the hot sun, they tasted even sweeter than before and anytime the girl felt like she was ready to stop, a single citrus snack was enough to put a snap back in her step.

After reaching the end of another row and returning to the truck, Clem was told by Mack it was noon and she should take a break. After being given a bottle of water, the man motioned to the nearest tree where Clem discovered Deacon resting in the shade. She walked over to the young man, her feet sore from having been on them all day, and gladly sat down.

"Hey," said Clem in a weak voice. "Are you okay?"

"I just hate working outside," admitted Deacon. "I burn real easy. I've probably got sunburn right now."

Clementine looked closer and noticed Deacon's hands and face were a light pink now. "You should get a hat," suggested Clem as she tugged at hers. "It keeps the sun off your face."

"I hate wearing hats," shrugged Deacon. "They make my head itch."

"Do you hate wearing hats more than sunburn?"

Deacon pondered Clementine's question, then sighed. "I guess I'll just bring one next time I get sent out here." Clem watched as the young man drank from his water bottle.

"How do they guard a place this big?" asked Clem.

"Guard?" asked Deacon.

"You know, what stops people from coming here and taking the oranges?"

"Well, Mack has a deal with Tanner. He gives Tanner oranges every two weeks and if anyone in Mack's family spots someone stealing from the orchard, they just tell Tanner about them and he makes sure they don't do it again."

"How does Tanner make sure they don't do it again?" asked Clem. "You said he doesn't kill people for stealing, right?"

"Nah, he doesn't kill people for stealing," assured Deacon.

"What does he do then?"

"Just this stupid thing he makes me and all the other boys practice," said Deacon. "It's pointless though. People around here are so sick of oranges they wouldn't bother stealing them anymore. I know I'm sick of this orchard already."

"I don't know. Other than the sunburn, this doesn't seem so bad," said Clem.

"Really? You're enjoying this?" asked a skeptical Deacon.

"I didn't say that," said Clem. "It's just, I spend so much time in the Brave and checking people's houses, I never get to just go outside anymore, not without worrying about something eating me. With everything that's going on, I don't mind this that much."

Deacon turned to Clem, his mismatched eyes studying her. "What is all going on?"

"What you mean?" asked Clem.

"Well, I've been here pretty much since those things showed up. But it sounds like you and your friend have been around. I mean, you said you were in Georgia before. What's it like? Is it any better?"

"No, at least not the parts I saw."

"Which parts did you see?"

"Well, I've been to Macon and Savannah."

"And how were they?"

"Awful," said Clem with a frown. "Bad people were in Macon, really bad people, and a lot of them. Almost everyone in Savannah was dead already when I got there, and the ones who weren't are gone now."

"I'm sorry."

"And then we stayed in a cabin in the woods, and nearly starved to death. Then we found Shaffer's…"

"Who's Shaffer?" asked Deacon.

"Shaffer's Shipping. It's an awful place, where they throw people they don't like in a cage and make you work and starve you if you can't."

"They… they did that to you?" Clem nodded drearily at Deacon. "Even though you're only ten?"

"I was nine and a half then actually." Deacon went wide-eyed upon hearing that. "They once made me pick up wood in the mud, even though I wasn't strong enough, and said I wouldn't get anything to eat if I didn't."

"And you couldn't leave?"

"They never let anyone leave Shaffer's."

"What? Why not?"

"I told you, it was an awful place. The one person they let leave they probably killed."

"Well then how did you get away?"

"With a lot of luck, and a lot of help. And Sarah and I don't have the help anymore…"

"Where… where is this Shaffer's place?"

"Not far from Savannah," said Clem. "Which I wouldn't go back to even if Shaffer's wasn't there."

"And I thought things here were messed up in the early days," said Deacon.

"Early days?" asked Clem.

"Things have kind of settled now, but when I first started living here, it seemed like every week something went wrong. Someone starting trouble, or someone shot off their gun and lured a bunch of those things into town. Once someone held up the shelter, kept everyone inside hostage."

"Why?"

"He was hungry, but he didn't know how to fish, and he didn't want to risk going out of town to find something, and he was sick of people giving him oranges. He kept begging people for some other food until Tanner finally asked him to leave. He was acting like he was going to pack his things, but he pulled a gun on everyone, said he wasn't letting us go unless he could leave town with enough food to last him for a while."

"What happened to him?"

"Someone got a backpack of supplies together for him and left it outside the shelter. And when he was busy putting it on… Tanner shot him."

"That… that doesn't seem right," said Clem.

"What was he supposed to do?" asked Deacon.

"I don't know. I just seems wrong to shoot someone because they're hungry and scared."

"Yeah, well, him being hungry and scared meant he did something that scared the rest of us," mused Deacon in a quiet voice. "I'll never forget how he kept waving that gun around, saying he'd shoot us if we even looked like we were going to try anything."

"You were there when this happened?" asked Clem.

"I was in the shelter, and I was terrified the whole time. Maybe he wasn't a bad man, but you don't gotta be a bad man to do something horrible. And maybe what Tanner did wasn't entirely right, but I was relieved when he finally shot that man."

"I'm sorry Deacon," said Clem.

"Don't worry about it. It sounds like you've seen worse. In fact, it sounds like it's an even bigger mess out there than here in Valkaria. I've always been hoping the military or someone would just show up and say things were under control, but Chilton says the military pulled out of Orlando, and Patty said they did the same thing in Miami. Just… left everyone behind."

"When I first stayed in Macon, I used to hear big guns and helicopters coming from the center of the town for the first few nights," said Clem. "But that was it; they just stopped after the third night. Someone who used to take care of me went with some others to check on one of the military bases nearby, where they keep the planes, and there was only one guy left there, and everyone else were already walkers."

"It sounds like everywhere is messed up then, and it's probably going to stay that way." Deacon sighed. "I don't know how you and your friend handle all this while taking care of a baby. I don't even know how you could deal with those things walking around. The few times I've seen one of them, my first and only instinct was just to run."

"Well, there is something you can do that makes them easier to deal with," said Clem.

"And what's that?" asked Deacon as he picked an orange off the branch.

"Well…" Clem bit her lip before she could say another word, suddenly finding herself reluctant to reveal such an important secret. She wondered if Deacon would tell Tanner, and would Tanner tell Rhonda, and suddenly her head was swimmingly from the possibilities. "I'll tell you about it later. Okay?"

"If you want," shrugged Deacon as he peeled his orange. "I doubt I'd ever fight one of those things though."

Clem reached up and picked one of the oranges hanging on the branch, happy to peel it open and bite right into it. "It must be nice not worrying about going hungry though," mumbled Clem as she chewed her orange. "Even if you're sick of oranges."

"It's not just being sick of oranges, they can make you sick," said Deacon. "That man I told you about? His teeth started falling out because all he ever got were oranges."

Clem abruptly stopped chewing. "Really?"

"Well I don't know if they were literally falling out, but one of the people on Paradise told me the citrus acid in oranges can mess up your teeth and I know he said something about it before… he pulled that gun." Clem suddenly didn't feel like eating the rest of her orange. "And I know too much of them can upset your stomach and make it harder to go to the bathroom." Deacon noticed Clem had set her orange down. "But you'd have to eat a ton of them, and every day for a while for that to happen."

"Yeah, but I've kinda lost my appetite now, at least for oranges." Setting the half-eaten orange down, Clem remembered her backpack and quickly removed it.

"Whatcha doing?"

"I was going to give you this earlier, but I forgot about it." Clementine removed a packet of freeze-dried ice cream from her bag.

"Whoa, did you get that at the Kennedy Space Center?" asked Deacon as he snatched the packet.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I went there when I was ten and got one of these," said Deacon as he studied the packing. "It's not still good is it?"

"Try it," said Clem with a smile.

Deacon hastily ripped the packing with his teeth and removed the first chunk of strawberry ice cream he could find. "Ah man, it's… it's even better than I remember!" raved Deacon.

"I know," said Clem as she snatched a piece of chocolate ice cream for herself.

"Well thank you for this," professed an earnest Deacon as took another piece of ice cream from the package. "I only wish I could still see the space center again."

"You can. There weren't any walkers there at all, like it was evacuated. There's no electricity, and me and Sarah took all the food, but all the rockets and cool stuff are still there."

"Well, that's good to know," said Deacon as he tucked that packet of ice cream into his coat. "But tell me something, were you really in Titusville, like Rhonda said?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I've heard bad things about it. Chilton said when this all started, Orlando was put under martial law, and back then they thought those things were just sick people, so they were catching them instead of shooting them. The rumor she heard before they left Orlando was that the Army was sending the things to Titusville because NASA was working on a cure for them."

"If they were, it didn't work out. Everyone at Cape Canaveral is gone, and there were tons of walkers in Titusville."

"How you'd even end up in Titusville?"

"I told yesterday, we were trying to get food there."

"Why there if there were tons of those things?"

"Walkers being there means there was probably food people hadn't taken yet," reasoned Clem.

"And you and your friend Sarah were willing to risk getting eaten just to get it?"

Clem shrugged. "Your teeth falling out isn't as bad as starving to death." After saying those words, Clem found her appetite for oranges returning. She picked up the half-eaten fruit and took another bite out of it.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to judge," said Deacon. "I guess food itself hasn't been a big problem around here; getting the right kinds has been though. Leonard told me him and some of his friends just tried to live off the river when this started, avoid the land altogether, and some of them got scurvy because they ate nothing but fish for too long."

"What's scurvy?" asked Clem.

"Something bad that happens when you don't get enough vitamin C," said Deacon. "That's why Chilton is working with Mack to get started on a farm that grows something other than oranges. I know you say this isn't so bad, but the last place I want to be caught this summer is out here every day."

"Where do you want to be?" asked Clem.

"Paradise would be nice," shrugged Deacon. "I don't mind too much watching the roadblock with Tanner either. It's usually quiet, and when he's not making me practice stupid things it gives me plenty of time to read." Deacon turned to Clem. "What about you? Where do you want to be?"

"Somewhere safe," said Clem. "And somewhere we could raise OJ."