"Someone's coming!" called Clementine as she saw a figure moving in the distance through the lens of her telescope.

"Where?" called Patty.

"South, moving towards us on the road," answered Clem.

"How far?" asked a frightened Sarah.

"Pretty far, they're…" Clem watched closely as the figure drew nearer. "It's a walker." The girl breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized the familiar stagger and rotten skin of one of the dead. Looking down from her perch on top of the gas station, Clem saw a look of relief on Sarah's face through her glasses and respirator.

"He's probably following the noise we're making," concluded Patty as she slung her sawed-off shotgun onto her back.

"How much more do we need?" called Clementine over the electric hum in the air as Sarah placed a hose into a fuel can.

"We've already got all the gas we need for Patty's motorcycle and our generator," said Sarah as she screwed a cap back onto a jerry can. "I've just got to get a couple more cans of diesel for the Brave now."

"I'll go take care of the dead guy in the mean time." Patty grabbed an aluminum bat leaned up against the trailer hitched to her motorcycle, then started walking down the road. Seeing the woman's gore-smeared raincoat flutter in the wind as she jogged after her target, Clem felt confident Patty could handle a lone walker by herself and resumed her role as lookout.

Looking through the telescope, Clem saw an abundance of trees in almost every direction that surrounded this rural gas station. There appeared to be fewer palm trees in this part of Florida, but otherwise it looked no different from any number of forgotten small towns Clem had visited, except maybe for the meager stream running by the road. Clementine briefly pulled off her stuffy respirator to get a breath of cool air before resuming her lookout.

Seeing nothing of interest, Clem looked past the trees bordering the road and gazed out upon the ocean. After snaking their way across central Florida for over a week, they had finally arrived on the state's western coast. The young girl struggled to remember the last time she had seen the ocean. It was probably when she went on vacation to Savannah, long before people rose from the dead. Even when she was there last year, she never had a chance to venture close enough to see the ocean again.

It was spellbinding to behold; the steady rhythm of the waves as they slapped against the land, the dark blue color of the water, the faint smell of saltwater in the air, and its massive size causing it to span the entire western horizon. Clem almost felt foolish for ever mistaking a river for the ocean as seeing the real thing made it clear there was no comparison. The only thing missing was a beach, the land bordering the water here being much closer to swamplands than sand.

"You see anything else?" Clem looked up from the telescope to see Patty walking back towards the gas station, her bat now stained with blood. Looking through the telescope, Clem found the now motionless corpse lying in the road behind Patty, and a quick check of the surrounding areas revealed nothing new of interest.

"I don't see anyone," reported Clem as Patty moved off the road and headed back towards where Sarah was set up near the station's buried fuel tanks.

"Patty, can you stop the generator?" asked Sarah. "I'm pretty much done."

"I swear, this RV is getting better milage than my bike," said Patty as she walked around the RV and headed for the generator sitting on the ground. "This is the first time you two have needed diesel since we left Valkaria."

"It helps the Brave holds a lot of fuel," said Sarah.

"Yeah, but a small motorcycle with an even smaller trailer like mine shouldn't be burning gas as fast as it should," said Patty as she knelt down by the generator. "Especially compared to your Brave; a heavy ass house on wheels should be a bigger gas guzzler than my bike."

Clem watched as Sarah placed fuel cans into the Brave's compartments as Patty switched off the generator. Seeing their time here was nearly finished, the girl folded the telescope's legs together and moved to the side of the roof. There she climbed down a ladder and headed towards a familiar RV parked near a sleek black motorcycle. Patty and Sarah were sitting near the hatches for the fuel tank, unhooking the hoses attached to the small pump they used to siphon out diesel.

"Thanks for keeping a look out Clementine," said Patty as she unscrewed a hose from the pump.

"It's no problem," said Clem. "It's nice out today."

"I can't believe it's December," said Sarah as she rolled up the pump's cord. "It almost feels like spring."

"Yeah, but Florida's actual springs feels like summer," said Patty as she pulled a hose out of the tank it had been submerged in. "And our summers are living hells. Luckily this pump and your generator will get us enough gas to head north when the summer sets in."

"I thought you still wanted to go New Orleans?" said Clem.

"I want to check it out, but unless we detour to any more theme parks, we'll probably get there in a few weeks," said Patty as she collected some containers of fuel stabilizer. "Long before the hot weather sets in."

"Do you think New Orleans is a good idea?" asked Sarah as she emptied the hoses of excess fuel. "I mean, I thought you said you were worried about hurricanes."

"I didn't say we're going to live there," said Patty as she rolled up a hose. "I just kept hearing the soldiers in Miami mention New Orleans over and over again, so I figure it's at least worth finding out why they were always talking about it."

"But you said you hated the military when they ran Miami," said Clem. "Why would you want to go somewhere they might be?"

"Well, from what I gathered, the military hasn't been a happy family since those zombie things showed up," said Patty. "There were all kinds of rumors swirling around Miami about how every branch of the armed forces was fighting each other or how they had set out on their own against orders."

"Really?" asked Sarah. "What kind of rumors?"

"Well, the soldiers in Miami were all Army, mostly National Guard, and people were always overhearing them complain about the other branches of the military getting to do something more important than what they were doing. The Marines are reclaiming the West Coast; the Navy anchored their ships in the Gulf of Mexico to make a floating city; the Air Force is taking over Cuba.

"One person even said the Coast Guard banded together and was ferrying people on the East Coast up to somewhere in Canada. But it was all just rumors though, the few soldiers I knew never had any idea what anyone was doing."

"Actually, we met a soldier who heard rumors that the government was evacuating people to Newfoundland or Cuba," said Sarah.

"I don't know anything about Newfoundland, but I really doubt whatever happened in Cuba was an evacuation," said Patty.

"What makes you say that?" asked Clem.

"Well, one night, about two weeks into martial law, everyone was woke up by this horrible humming noise. It was loud, and it was everywhere. It sounded like a giant swarm of bees were descending upon us, but it was planes; dozens, upon dozens of planes, all flying south at the same time. It was insane, they practically blocked out the night sky with their wings there were so many of them. Some people were afraid we were about to be bombed or something, but they just flew right past the city and kept going out into the ocean. I was going to ask one of the soldiers about it, but from the slack-jawed look on his face, it was clear he didn't know what the hell was going on either."

"Maybe it's true, maybe it's safe in Cuba," said Sarah.

"A lot people sailed south thinking that, none of them ever came back," said Patty.

"If it was safe, would you come back?" challenged Clem.

"If there was someone else still in Miami I wanted to get to safety I would," said Patty. "And if things were so great in Cuba, I don't think the military would have let people just sail out of Miami. Once they hit the open water they didn't even bother trying to stop them. If there is safety there, I doubt whoever's running the place would let any of us in. After the first month, the soldiers running Miami almost never let anyone new into the city, and it was hardly what I would call safe."

"But what do you think we'll find in New Orleans?" asked Clem.

"Your guess is as good as mine," admitted Patty. "But if the military thought it was important, there had to be something there."

With the telescope weighing heavy in her arms, Clem headed into the RV. Stepping into her familiar home, Clementine moved across the carpet, past the small kitchen, and to the closet at the end of the hall. She took care in storing the telescope, not wanting to knock over any of the food they had stacked up on the shelves inside.

Leaving the closet, Clementine moved to stow her gear next. First, she removed her raincoat and stored it the small nonfunctional refrigerator next to the counter, its airtight seal still good for keeping in horrible odors. Next, she removed her gloves and respirator, placing them in the closet. Then she grabbed a stool and set it in front of a couple of cupboards.

Standing on the stool, Clem placed the tomahawk hanging from her shoulder inside the cupboard, then the bayonet stored in a sheath hanging from her belt, and then finally removed her pistol. She unloaded the gun first, removing the chambered round as well as the magazine, then set them both inside the cupboard, along with the spare magazine strapped to her belt. Confident her weapons were safely stored and out of easy reach, she hopped off the stool and headed for the bedroom. Sliding the door open, she found a familiar toddler slowly moving in front of the bed.

"Hey OJ," said Clem in a sweet voice. "Where are you going?"

Omid didn't answer Clem, electing to stumble towards a ball sitting by one of the dressers. Clem watched as he carefully bent over to pick up his toy. He turned around and threw the ball, causing it to bounce onto the bed, which seemed to amuse him to no end.

"It's a lot easier to throw things when you can stand up, isn't it?" Again, Omid didn't notice Clem and tried to climb onto the bed. He struggled in this task, not quite tall enough or strong enough to pull himself on top. Seeing him strain against his own weight, Clem carefully gripped Omid under his armpits and slowly hoisted him upwards until the boy was able to throw one of his legs onto the bed. After that, Clem let go of Omid and let him pull himself up the rest of the way.

Watching the boy slowly walk across the bed, Clem couldn't help smirk upon seeing his new Dumbo pajamas, just a memento taken from their recent stopover in a now abandoned Disney World. Collecting the ball, Clem watched Omid throw it again, flashing a near-toothless grin as he saw it bounce across the room before settling on the carpet. Seeing he was clearly enjoying playing with his ball, Clem slipped out and shut the door.

Stepping out of the RV, Clementine took a moment to admire the Brave's recently cleaned exterior. Yesterday, the trio had stopped to tune up their mobile home, and while Patty and Sarah had worked to service the engine and other things Clem didn't know much about, the young girl had taken it on herself to scrub the dried blood off the vehicle. If not for some dents, the vessel would look almost new. Moving around to the front, Clem found Patty and Sarah standing in front of an open compartment where the engine rested.

"I'm really glad you're here now," professed Sarah as she studied the engine. "I had no idea what to do if the Brave ever broke down."

"Well you took really good care of it," said Patty as she examined the interior. "I used to work in my father's shop and most of the people we dealt with didn't take half as good of their cars as you have this RV."

"Really?"

"Yeah, other than neglecting your tires you did everything you were supposed to."

"The manual didn't say anything about tires, other than how to change them, which we had trouble with," admitted Sarah.

"Don't beat yourself up over it. Rotating tires on something this big is no easy feat, and it's not easy inflating them without electricity. Your RV's generator has helped a lot with that. Now I don't have to bust my ass with that glorified bicycle pump anytime a wheel is running a little low."

"Is everything okay?" asked Clementine as she inched closer to the pair.

"Yeah, Patty just wanted to look at the engine again," informed Sarah.

"I can't get over the fact that it looks like someone replaced it," said Patty as she peered into the vehicle.

"Why?" asked Clem. "Is that bad?"

"It's not bad, it's just a ton of work and a lot of money to swap out a whole engine on a vehicle this big," said Patty. "Especially if the old one was gasoline like I suspect. I can't imagine why someone would go through so much hassle."

"Maybe they wanted to use diesel instead?" suggested Sarah.

"It'd be easier and maybe even cheaper to just sell this RV and a buy a different one that already had a diesel engine," said Patty. "Who did you say this thing belonged to before you guys got it?"

"A man named Pete found it, but I don't think it was his," said Clem. "Before that, we don't know who it belonged to before."

"They must have really loved it to go through all that trouble to change out the whole engine." Patty pushed the hood close. "Other than some dents, it's still in great shape. You two keep taking care of it, and it should last for years."

"That's good to know," spoke a relieved Sarah.

"What about the engine taking a while to start when it was cold?" asked Clem.

"Well I haven't seen that happen yet, but the cold will do that to diesel engines, although it usually has to be colder than a Florida winter to do that," said Patty as she scratched her head. "It could have been the battery had been running low and the cold was making it work harder. It seemed a little off when I tested it at our last stop, so I swapped it for a newer one after jumping it off."

"And it hasn't squeaked when it stops since you replaced the brake pads," added Sarah. "Thanks for showing me how to do that."

"Really the old ones didn't look too bad," commented Patty. "You don't actually have to change those very often."

"And you're sure there's nothing wrong with it?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Over the last few stops I've checked everything I could conceivably think of and tweaked or replaced anything that could be trouble," informed Patty. "If I had done this back in my dad's shop, he would have charged you out the ass for all this work."

"Oh, well…" Clem thought to herself. "Maybe we could give you more of the food or—"

"What? I'm not asking for payment, I'm just saying you're getting the best service I can provide," assured Patty with a smirk. "Come on, we're past all that trading crap, we're working together now, remember?"

"Sorry, I'm just not used to people helping us," admitted Clem.

"It's been a long time since anyone was just nice to us," added Sarah in a melancholy tone.

"I can't believe…" Patty looked away suddenly.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"I was gonna say I can't believe no one cares about a couple of girls trying to raise a baby, but then I thought, hey, I didn't do shit when I met you," mumbled Patty in a quiet voice as she looked at Clem.

"Well, you didn't know about OJ then, or that it was just me and Sarah taking care of him," reasoned Clem. "And you've been a big help to us. Things have been a lot better since you started helping us."

"Things probably would have been even better if I had just helped you when I first met you. Probably wouldn't have nearly killed you by accident then." Patty sighed. "Um, I noticed you've got a propane tank on your RV. Did you want to try and fill it up while we're here?"

"We don't know how to get propane for the RV," said Sarah.

"Well I do," said Patty.

"Really?" said Clem. "How?"

"Well, there's the propane." Patty gestured to a metal locker near the gas station's entrance. The doors were made of a mesh metal that displayed small white tanks locked inside. "And I've got some stuff in my bike we can use to siphon some off for the RV."

"Why do you have that?" asked Clem.

"It's leftover from Miami. I used to help a guy staying at a Waffle House. I'd get propane for the stove there so we wouldn't have to eat cold soup."

"It would be nice if we could use the stove," thought Clem. "We wouldn't have to go outside and start a fire just to cook pasta."

"And, we could actually have a hot shower," realized a stunned Sarah.

"You mean we could warm up water in the stove?" asked Clem.

"No, the Brave has a water heater, it just needs propane," said Sarah.

"Hell, I'd kill for a hot shower again. That's reason enough for me to do this." Patty didn't wait for an answer and headed for the small trailer hitched to the back of her motorcycle. She pulled out a couple of very worn towels, a ziplock bag full of brass fittings, and a black hose with odd attachments on each end.

"Here, take these and go dunk them in the stream near the road," said Patty as she handed Clem the towels.

"What for?" asked Clem.

"Just trust me, we're going to need those to be wet and cold," said Patty. "Sarah, you said you have the manual for the RV right?"

"Yeah," answered Sarah.

"Go get it, it can probably tell me how much your RV's tank can hold. Oh, and you're gonna have to repark the RV so it's in the shade."

"Why?"

"Just trust me, I've done this dozens of times," assured the woman. "The faster you do that stuff, the faster we all can enjoy hot showers and warm food."

Clem and Sarah exchanged glances, then hurried. Clem ran past the edge of the road and down a muddy bank towards a narrow and docile stream. She stopped at the edge of the water and dropped the first towel into the stream. She pushed it under the water, making sure it was thoroughly soaked before setting it on the ground. Clem soaked the second towel as quickly as she could, then grabbed both towels and started running back to the gas station.

It was difficult trying to run while carrying a soaking wet towel in each hand, but the prospect of warm meals and warm baths was enough to keep her rushing at top speed. Reaching the gas station, Clem saw the Brave was parked strategically under the overhangs that covered the pumps, leaving it completely covered in shade.

"When were you going to tell me about this handy toy?" Clem turned to see Patty approaching with a propane tank in one hand and their electric bolt cutter in the other. "I'm used to struggling for half an hour to bust a lock. This thing? Snap, we're done!" Patty set the propane tank on the ground and placed the bolt cutter in an open compartment on the Brave's exterior. "Where'd you get this?"

"Sarah found it in an auto garage," said Clem as she set the towels down. "We figured mechanics used it."

"I never saw anything like this in my dad's shop," said Patty as she closed the Brave's compartment. "Maybe the garage you found it in belonged to burglars or something."

Sarah came running out of the Brave as Patty measured the length of hose at her disposal.

"Is this a good place to park?" asked the older girl.

"Oh yeah, this is just fine." Clem watched as Patty set the hose on the ground, one end starting at the Brave and the other reaching past the shade cast by the overhang. The woman then dragged a nearby garbage can towards where the hose was lying.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem as Patty seemed to be testing the weight of the can by leaning it forward before letting it settle in place.

"Just wanted to make sure this thing isn't going to tip over anytime soon." Patty let go of the garbage can and grabbed the propane tank.

"What for?" asked Clem. "How does this help get propane?"

"Well, propane will move on its own if you know how to coax it out." Patty carefully set the tank down on top of the garbage can. "Gravity affects propane like anything else, so if this tank is higher up then the one we want to fill, it'll put a little pressure on the propane to move down the hose."

"That's all we have to do?" asked Sarah.

"That's sound easy," said Clem.

"Too easy, gravity alone won't coax much propane out," explained Patty as she attached one end of the hose to the tank's nozzle. "It just helps once we get it flowing."

"How do we get it flowing?" asked Sarah.

"That's where the towels come in," said Patty as she collected the other end of the hose from off the ground. "Place them on top of the RV's tank."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"We want that tank to be cooler than this one." Patty pointed at the white tank glinting in the sunlight. "You already parked it in the shade, and the cold water in those towels are gonna cool it off even more while the other one heats up a little from being in direct sunlight."

"But why does it being cooler make the propane go into it?" asked Clem.

"Um… something about cold causing it to contract and pull the propane into it," shrugged Patty. "I don't know, I'm not a scientist, but I saw this done enough times to know it works."

Clem and Sarah exchanged skeptical glances, then shrugged themselves. They picked up a wet towel each and carefully set them on top of the Brave's propane tank. It didn't look like the tank Patty took from the gas station, being a round black cylinder affixed to a vehicle and concealed within a compartment right next to the Brave's door.

The RV's tank had a gauge, valve, a bright yellow plastic cap, and a smaller valve all sticking out of the side. Placing the towels on the tank was tricky since they really couldn't place them on top of something that was affixed to the underside of a vehicle. But with some effort they managed to wedge the ends of the towels in the space between the tank and the vehicle, allowing them to lie against the tank as they hung there.

"Do you think that'll be good enough?" asked Clem as Patty examined the tank.

"We'll find out in a minute." Patty unscrewed the yellow cap on the Brave's propane tank, then fished through her bag of fittings before selecting one and holding it up to the now exposed opening on the tank.

"Is this dangerous?" asked Clem.

"I've done this like a dozen times now and I haven't blown myself up yet," said Patty as she screwed a brass fitting onto the other end of the hose.

"Have you ever done this with an RV before?" asked Sarah.

"Nope." Patty screwed the hose into the Brave's propane tank.

"How did people fill propane tanks before the walkers?" asked Clem.

"That's a good question; I have no idea," spoke an enthusiastic Patty with a smirk as she examined a gauge on the tank.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Clem.

"If you're worried you can take a few steps back," suggested Patty as she walked over to the propane tank sitting on the garbage can. "Because your tank is empty, so if anything is going to explode, it'll be this one."

Clementine found herself moving away from Patty, tugging Sarah along by the hand as she did so. Patty didn't seem to mind, looking as sure of herself as ever as she reached for the valve sticking out of the top of the propane tank.

"Ready?" asked Patty as she gripped the valve. Clem looked at Sarah, who nodded softly at the younger girl, prompting Clem to turn and nod at Patty. "All right, here we go." Patty slowly turned the valve and Clem tensed up as she briefly heard a barely audible hissing sound. She watched with great interest as Patty seemed to be listening carefully herself, almost putting her ear up to tank before moving towards the RV instead.

"Well?" asked an anxious Clem. "Is it working?"

"I think so," said Patty as she studied the Brave's propane tank. "It sounds like it's moving, and this gauge flickered a bit just now. But it's going to take a while for the propane to move from that tank to yours."

"How long?" asked Sarah.

"It just kind of depends on if the other tank is cool enough or not. It could be up to an hour to completely fill it," said Patty as she approached the girls. "I say we give it ten minutes then check to make sure it's working." Sarah checked her watch while Patty looked over her shoulder. "I guess I'll see if I can dig out a magazine or something while we wait." Patty started walking away, which prompted Sarah to speak.

"Wait," said the older girl. "Why don't you wait with us inside the Brave?" Patty stopped walking.

"Why are you inviting her in?" Clem whispered to Sarah.

"Come on Clem, it's the least we can do." Sarah turned towards Patty. "We got lots of things to read inside, and other fun stuff too."

The woman turned around and shrugged. "All right, I wasn't looking forward to catching up on current events that were over a year out of date."

"Just make sure you leave your weapons on your motorcycle," reminded Clem in a meek voice. "I… I don't want to risk OJ finding them."

"Sure thing. Think I'll also ditch this raincoat for a little while." Patty started sliding out of her coat while Clem moved back into the RV with Sarah.

"Clem, can you help me out of this?" prompted Sarah as she removed the machete and rifle she was carrying on her back.

"Sure." Clem donned a pair of rubber gloves they kept near the fridge for just this occasion and helped remove Sarah's bloody raincoat.

"Did you not want me to invite Patty in?" asked Sarah as she removed her respirator.

"Well… kinda," admitted Clem as she folded up Sarah's raincoat.

"Why not? She's our friend now," said Sarah as she unloaded her rifle and pistol. "She even went with us to Disney World, or what's left of it."

"I know that, it's just…" Clem struggled to find the words.

"Just what?" asked Sarah as she stored her guns and ammo.

"It's just, I'm used to it just being me, you and OJ inside the Brave," said Clem as she placed the raincoat in the fridge. "It always feels a little weird when there's someone else in here, that's all."

"Come on Clem, Patty's not just anyone, and she'd have to come in if the shower's water heater works," reasoned Sarah. "It'd be selfish to not share with her after she helped us get the propane for it."

"I know," admitted Clem. "I guess I feel like I don't know Patty all that well, so I'm a little nervous."

"Well, you're never going to get to know her if you don't spend any time with her."

The door creaked open and Clem watched as Patty stepped in. Now free of her raincoat and respirator, the woman was clad in her typical leather jacket with matching pants and boots. Clementine couldn't stop herself from eyeing the woman's holster, and was relieved to see it was empty.

"I don't think I've been in here since we left Valkaria," realized Patty as she admired the RV's interior.

"You came in once when we were going through Orlando," reminded Sarah as she sat down on the couch across from the door.

"For a couple of minutes to tell you two something. I don't think I ever came in and just chilled for a few minutes," recalled Patty as she examined her surroundings. "This thing has got a couch, a microwave, a fridge, an oven, even a kitchen sink."

"Most of that stuff doesn't work without the generator," said Sarah. "So we never really use any of it but the sink."

"Well the oven will if we can siphon off enough propane," assured Patty as took a few steps closer to the kitchen area. "And it looks like you got your own dining room," said Patty as noted the small two-person table with a chessboard sitting on it. "Or is that the game room?"

"Sarah and I like to play chess sometimes. She's really good at it, but I'm gonna beat her someday," declared Clem with confidence.

"Do you play chess Patty?" asked Sarah.

"Nah. If you ever want to play some poker though, just hit me up," said Patty as she moved down the hall towards the bedroom.

"But man, I finally get people who said they want to retire and just drive around the country in one of these. I thought they were crazy, but that was because I'd never set foot in a top dollar RV like this one. You could turn this into a regular party bus," said Patty as she moved back towards the front. "Oh shit, you guys even got a TV?" asked the woman as she noticed the small screen mounted between the cupboards running across the ceiling. "Do you ever watch any movies on it?"

"We tried to," informed Sarah in a quiet voice. "Once."

"It doesn't work?"

"It works, but you have to run the generator to use it," informed Clem. "And a couple of people heard it, and…" Clem trailed off as memories of that horrible night came flooding back into her mind.

"They were going to take everything…" whimpered Sarah.

"Oh God." Patty's smile disappeared. "Jesus, I'm sorry; talking about how great this thing was and not even thinking about… I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," shrugged Clem. "You didn't know."

"I should have; seeing how badly you don't want people in here, it should have been obvious," lamented Patty. "You two should know I have a bad habit of running my mouth, so if I'm ever rambling about something I shouldn't like that again, just tell me to shut up."

"Let's just forget about it," said Clem.

"Yeah, good idea, let me just shut up now." Patty became quiet, leading to an awkward silence.

"We should probably check on Omid," suggested Sarah, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, good idea." Clem was about to head to the bedroom when she noticed Patty hunched over in the corner. "Do you want to see OJ?"

"Sure." The three marched into the bedroom where they found Omid still happily bouncing a ball against a wall, giggling as he did so.

"He's having more fun with that than he did at Disney World," said Clem.

"Well, Disney World wasn't exactly as great as it used to be," said Sarah. "And he is just a baby. He probably likes little things."

"That's not true, he loved the rockets at Cape Canaveral, and they were huge," argued Clem.

"There weren't a bunch of bodies there like at Disney World," said Sarah.

"It wasn't a bunch, it was just a few bodies," said Clem.

"I think even a few bodies is too many for Omid to enjoy," said Sarah.

"Still beat the lines they used to have there," quipped Patty. "If you weren't one of those rich pricks with a VIP pass or whatever, you'd spend more of the day standing around in the sun than anything else."

"At least the rides worked then," said Clem.

"Other than Space Mountain, I don't think you were missing anything," shrugged Patty. "Raiding their gift shops was a lot more fun than riding It's a Small World." Omid tossed his ball and it bounced into Patty's feet. The trio watched as the boy slowly walked over to retrieve his toy, but stopped when he spotted the person standing behind it. He slowly craned his head up to see Patty's face.

"Oh shit, I'm not scaring him am I?" asked Patty.

"Hah-bah?" asked Omid, soundly merely curious.

Clem smiled and wrapped her arms around Omid, helping him off the ground so he could see Patty's face more easily.

"Say hi OJ," prompted Clem as she brought him closer to the woman. "Say hi to Patty."

"Pah-duh," he babbled.

"Um… hey little man," said Patty as she inched closer. "What's up?"

"Muh-duh-bah." Omid stretched out his hands towards Patty.

"I think he wants to grabs your nose," suggested Sarah.

"Well as long as I get it back I don't mind," said Patty as she moved a little closer. "So, he's not related to either of you, and you're not related to each other, right?"

"That's right. Omid was the son of a woman and a man who used to take care of Clem," informed Sarah.

"And me and Sarah met not long before OJ was born, and said we would take care of him for his mother," added Clem as Omid reached out and grabbed Patty's nose.

"How come you call him OJ and she calls him Omid?" asked Patty in a nasally voice as Omid pinched her nose.

"His full name is Omid Junior," said Sarah. "After his dad."

"But I knew his dad, so it's weird for me to call him Omid," said Clem. "So I just call him OJ instead."

"Well either way, he's—ahh!" Omid gripped Patty's earring and started tugging on it.

"Omid no!" Sarah jumped up and immediately worked to pry Omid's hand off the earring while Clem moved in closer to reduce how far Omid could pull Patty's ear.

"God damn," gasped Patty as she pulled free of the toddler. "He's got an impressive grip for a two-year-old."

"Actually, he's not even ten months old yet," corrected Sarah.

"Even more impressive," said Patty as she took a breath.

"I'm really sorry," professed Clementine as Omid giggled in her grasp.

"It's okay," insisted Patty as she removed her earrings. "I'll just have to remember to leave these off when I'm around him from now on."

Clementine set Omid down on the bed, who was still giggling. "Don't laugh Omid," scolded Clem. "You could've hurt Patty."

"I'm fine," assured Patty as she approached the boy. "He probably just wanted a better look at this." Patty held out her earring, which was a hook with a small metal skull hanging from it.

"Ohhh…" gasped Omid as he studied the shimmering treasure. "Boo-pah-dee," he said as he reached out to grab the earring.

"You can have if you want little man," offered Patty as she moved it closer to Omid.

"No don't," insisted Sarah as she intercepted Patty's earring. "It's got a sharp hook, he could hurt himself."

"Or he could swallow the skull," added a concerned Clem.

"Or worse, swallow the hook," realized Sarah.

"Shit, sorry little man," said Patty as she pocketed the earring.

"Buh-aye-bru-duh," pleaded Omid as he tried to grab the skull but was too slow.

"Maybe when you're a little older." Patty's answer didn't seem to satisfy Omid, who was pouting now.

"Don't be like OJ, you don't need an earring right now," said Clem.

"Yeah, your ears aren't even pierced yet." Patty's joke did nothing to stop Omid from pouting.

"You'd better be good, or the tickle monster will get you." Omid didn't respond to Clem's threat, which just made her smile bigger. "I warned you!" Clem shot forward and started mercilessly tickling the boy, causing him to laugh uncontrollably. Omid tried crawling to the other side of the bed to get away from Clem.

"Uh-oh, here comes a second tickle monster!" Clem looked Sarah in the eyes and the older girl immediately understood the younger one's meaning.

"Rawr!" growled Sarah as she started tickling Omid too, causing him to laugh hysterically. The boy rolled over, desperate to escape, and started crawling towards the front of the bed where Patty was standing.

"Could it be?" narrated Sarah as she saw Omid crawling away. "A third tickle monster?" Sarah nodded at Patty, who flashed a wicked grin in return.

"Tickle tickle tickle," said the woman as she took her turn tormenting the toddler with laughter. Even after releasing Omid, the boy kept laughing and fidgeting in place, practically overwhelmed by the three-pronged tickle attack.

"God he's beautiful," awed Patty in an oddly sentimental tone as she watched the young boy writhing in laughter.

"He really is," said Clem as she found Omid's not quite toothless smile heartwarming.

"You two are a couple of heroes, taking care of a baby through all this," professed Patty as she sat down on the bed.

"You think we're heroes?" asked a surprised Clem as she collected Omid, his laughter finally subsiding.

"Definitely. I mean you said you're what, ten and fourteen?"

"We were nine and thirteen when we first started taking care of him," answered Sarah.

"Jesus. I was twenty-one and I couldn't handle it," confessed Patty.

"You had a baby?" asked a surprised Clem.

"No, not me, but back in Miami, I knew this girl who lived just a few houses down from me," explained Patty. "She got pregnant in her senior year and moved in with her boyfriend's family right before people started turning into those things."

"Did a lurker eat her baby?" asked a horrified Sarah.

"No, or at least I don't think that's what happened," said Patty. "The military took over not long after things went to shit and they weren't much better. They confiscated all the food in town so they could ration it out over time. But the 'rations' they handed out once a week were never enough to last a person through a whole week, and they wouldn't give her extra even though she had a baby."

"That's not fair," said Sarah.

"No kidding, and we never saw any of those pricks go hungry. I once saw them practically feasting in this gymnasium. As they were kicking me out, they just told me they did more so they eat more, but they didn't so shit but occasionally shoot at anyone approaching the city and hassling the people already living there."

"So your friend couldn't get enough to eat for her baby?" asked Sarah.

"Nobody could get enough to eat with the military in charge. Some people tried growing stuff in their yards, but if the military saw that they'd take it too, and they had people stationed around the clock in every farm and orchard near town. Eventually, people had to risk sneaking out at night and hope to find something to eat in the surrounding areas, and one of those people was her boyfriend."

"What happened to him?" asked Clem.

"She never knew. It sounds like he and his father got separated one night and that was the last anyone saw of him. He could have got eaten by those things or the military could have killed him, or…" Patty sighed. "Anyway, her boyfriend's family never really liked this girl, and now that he was gone, they liked her even less seeing as they had to keep feeding her and her boy."

"Wasn't it their boy too?" asked Sarah. "If it was their son's baby, wouldn't that make it their grandson?"

"She told them that, and for a while that was enough, but as time went by, and our weekly rations got even smaller, and people got even hungrier, it sounds like that wasn't enough," recalled Patty in a quiet voice.

"What'd they do?" asked Clem.

"They kicked her and her baby out."

"What do you mean they kicked her out?" asked Clem.

"I mean just that, they shoved her out the door and locked it behind her. I know because I saw most of it the night they did it. They were screaming so loud I couldn't help but go to the window and watch as she was shoved outside. Her baby kept crying in her arms as she begged them to be let her back in, but they didn't."

"That's horrible," said Sarah.

"After like five minutes of begging, she just started walking down the street, yelling for help."

"Did you help her?"

"She was right outside so I told her to get in before one of the soldiers came by wondering what she was yelling was about." Patty paused. "It's… it's weird telling you two all this."

"It is?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, it's been so long since I've really had anyone to talk to. I can't remember the last time someone actually wanted to listen to what I said."

"What happened with you and the woman and her baby?" asked Clem.

"Well… it doesn't really end well," admitted Patty. "You sure you to want to hear the rest?"

"Yeah," said Clem.

"We've seen lots of bad things happen, so, if you want to tell us about something bad that's happened to you, that's okay," assured Sarah.

"Well…" Patty took a breath. "I said she could stay for a few days until she figured things out. A few days later, she still had no idea what she was going to do, so I let her stay for a week, then two, then a whole month went by. And while this is going on, she kept needing things for her son.

"Me and a couple of my supposed friends were good at hiding things from the soldiers, so we used to trade with a few of the more laid back ones. Eventually, we ran out of stuff to trade with, so I started going out with them at night past the road blocks to get more to eat, and every time I'd be looking for more things her kid needs.

"For awhile that was my routine, and it worked out okay. But one time in late August, when the heat was really getting to us, the military cut back on our rations even more, and there wasn't enough fresh water to grow anything. And on top of that, my friend was really worried about her son getting too hot during the day, saying we had to cool him off and rambling on about how he'd get sudden infant death syndrome if we didn't."

"Sudden infant death syndrome?" repeated Sarah.

"What's that?" asked a nervous Clementine as she tightened her embrace on Omid.

"I don't know, and I don't think she knew anything about it either, other than the scary name. The poor kid used to cry all the time, but lately, he had stopped doing that, so she was worried something was wrong, and so was I." Patty took a breath. "So when I went out that night, I went looking for one of those portable misters."

"Portable mister?" asked Sarah.

"You know, the battery-powered kind." Sarah and Clem just looked at Patty in confusion. "You've never seen one? They're like a spray bottle but with a fan on the top so is blows cool water in your face. There were a bunch at the gift shops at Disney World. You two didn't notice any?" Sarah and Clem kept looking at Patty.

"Well whatever, they're portable fans that ran on batteries. The military, being the dicks they were, had been scooping up any they found lately because they were hot too, and no way I was going to risk stealing one from them, so when I snuck out that night I went looking for a gas station or a gift shop that still had one, some batteries, and some water."

"Did you find anything?"

"Finding one of those misters didn't take too long, batteries for it took a little longer, but getting water of all things was hard." Patty rubbed her forehead. "It hadn't rained in like two weeks, and the military would regularly send people out in the day to collect food and water from the surrounding areas, and after a few months there wasn't a drop left for miles, so I went further than I had ever went before, and I finally found some bottled waters and food no one had taken yet, but I also found a bunch of those damn things."

"Walkers?"

"Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, the military was good at keeping those things from getting into the city," said Patty. "I wound up stuck on a roof for the rest of the night, and spent the next day baking in the sun, just wishing those damn things would get bored and go away, but they never did."

"What did you do?" asked Clem.

"I tested the mister fan for a while, but after a few hours I was going out of my mind, just thinking I was going to slowly die on some rooftop in the middle of nowhere and that'd be it. I was about ready to jump down and just pray I didn't break my ankle or get swarmed before I got a better idea."

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Well, that's when I stumbled on my improv bug zapper idea. I used my lighter to burn the wrappers and boxes from the food I took, then hurled them into the next yard. Luckily the grass was dry as hell and eventually the flames eventually spread to the whole house. It wasn't until the fire had nearly spread to the house I was on it was loud enough for those damn things to start following the noise.

"Enough of them elected to burn to a crisp that it gave me an opening to get down and away. My next problem was it was still day out, and the military may have been slack about people moving in and out of the roadblocks at night, but not during the day. I heard they had orders to shoot anyone on sight outside the city, so I had to keep moving around to avoid their patrols."

"I'm sorry Patty," said Sarah.

"Finally the sun went down and I was able to sneak back into town, and you want to know what she said to me when I finally got back?"

"What?"

"She just started rambling on about how much worse her son was doing and how I was supposed to be helping her and I…" Patty's face sunk. "I just blew up on her, told her I was sick of taking care of her and her damn baby and… I told her to be out by morning."

"Patty… that's…" Clem became quiet when she couldn't find words to describe how she was feeling.

"I tossed that damn mister at her feet before flopping straight into bed and passing out. When I woke up the next morning, I felt terrible and wanted to tell her I was sorry, but… she was gone already."

"Where?"

"I don't know. She took the mister and a little water and food, but not much, and that was the last time I ever saw either of them. And you want to know what the best part is?" asked Patty in a pained voice.

"What?" asked an anxious Clementine.

"Two days later, it rained," announced Patty with a weak laugh. "The heat wave broke, and a few days later, the military actually upped our rations, for the first time ever since they took over. All of that happened in just under a week after I told her to leave."

"So, the woman was okay then?" suggested Sarah. "Since, things got better after she left."

"Maybe, maybe not," shrugged a downcast Patty. "Like I said, I never saw her again. I asked her in-laws, people I knew, even some of the soldiers, none of them saw where she went. When I found Valkaria next year, I asked everyone there who'd talk to me if a teenager and her son had ever been through there, but none of them had ever seen her either."

Patty looked up at Sarah and Clem. "I don't suppose you two ever saw a woman with a boy who'd be about two years old now, have you? Her name was Charlotte, and the boy's name was Neal."

"OJ is the only baby I've seen since the walkers came," reported Clem in a quiet voice.

"Me too," added Sarah.

"They're both probably dead now," mumbled Patty as she looked away from the pair. "I keep hoping one day they'll just pop up again out of nowhere, and I could finally tell her I was sorry for what I said. But that's never going to happen." Patty sighed, then eyed Omid, a grief-stricken look haunting the woman's bright green eyes.

"Patty…" spoke Clem as she tried to find words. "You—"

"It's probably been ten minutes," Patty said to herself. "I'm gonna go check the propane tanks."

Patty stood up in a hurry and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Clem and Sarah alone with Omid.