Clementine awoke to find her side aching like it always did. Reaching for the painkillers, she discovered it was easier for her to move than it had been for the last week. She was still in pain, but the weakness that had plagued her was now only a fraction of what it had been. Looking at the iron supplements on the dresser, Clem grabbed them as well and swallowed a pill from each with a gulp of water. After hearing voices outside, Clem headed for the door, finding herself relieved she was able to walk without much trouble this morning.

"I really don't think you need to bother." Clem saw Anthony talking to Sarah at the front of the Brave. "I mean, with everything that's happened, the laundry can wait."

"I want to do it. It's a nice day and it makes me feel… normal," insisted Sarah as she picked up a basket. "And Clem and Omid are still asleep, so I've got time for once."

Clem pulled the door nearly closed so Sarah wouldn't see her.

"I just don't like spending too long in the same place," said Anthony.

"We're probably a hundred miles away from the farm and Tulsa by now," dismissed Sarah. "I don't think we could find ourselves at this point, let alone the people who attacked us."

"Yeah, probably, but I'm not sure about going to I-Eighty though."

"We talked about this, if Patty and Jet—"

"It's a big risk to go wait on such a huge road just on the off chance they're still alive."

"Anthony…"

"I'm serious. If there are other people out there, and we know there are, they might be using that interstate too," added Anthony. "Whoever cleaned out Tulsa had to be a huge group. I mean, they emptied the Sam's Club in under two weeks. It took a couple of weeks just for me and Devlin to load two trailers of—"

"God, Devlin," said Sarah as she rubbed her eyes. "Everything he did for us and we can't even bury him…"

"There was nothing I could have done," assured Anthony.

"Yeah, I know, it's starting to feel like there's nothing any of us can do…" Clem watched as Anthony moved closer to Sarah and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, I know I ain't the easiest person to put up with and sometimes I get kind of pushy," confessed Anthony in an uncharacteristically concerned tone. "But it's only because I care about you Sarah, and I'm afraid of losing what I got left with you. You and Omid."

"And Clem," added Sarah.

"Yeah, of course, her too," said Anthony. "And she's gonna get better now, right?"

"Yeah, she will." Sarah headed for the door, a basket of laundry in her arms. "Listen out for her if she needs help but try not to wake her up, she needs as much rest as she can get." Watching Sarah step out the door, Clem headed back into bed. She was feeling better but figured the best thing she could do is heed Sarah's advice. She pushed her bedpan aside and crawled back under the covers. This was probably the first morning in a long time Clem felt relaxed enough to sleep in, but just as she got comfortable she felt something slowly pulling the covers off of her.

"What… what are you doing here?" asked a panicked Clem as she looked up at a surprised Anthony. "What… what is that?" Clem found her eyes moving to a strange object in Anthony's hand. It looked like a spike fashioned out of a rotten chunk of wood. "What the hell is that?"

"Goddamn it," said Anthony as he carefully threaded the odd spike into a crude looking sheath.

"What are you doing in here?" Clem repeated, more accusing than asking as Anthony pocketed the strange tool. "Get out. Right—"

Clem became silent as a pillow was forcibly pressed against her face. She panicked as she tried to pry it off, but Anthony was far too strong for her. Clem then started thrashing her hands upwards as she felt herself getting dizzy from the lack of air. She had hoped to find Anthony's eyes in her grip but could only reach his arm, and no amount of clawing at it seemed to help.

Clem tried yelling through the pillow only to feel the fabric forced into her mouth, choking her. Everything went dark and Clem could feel her head getting light as her arms became harder to move; she was dying. She let go of Anthony's arm and started flailing about in desperation for anything that could help. Her hand brushed against something metal and Clem gripped it as hard as she could. Just as she was starting to gag, Clem forced herself to swing the object blindly upwards with as much force as she could muster.

"Ah!" Clem felt the pillow pulled off her face and immediately took several panicked breaths in a row. Looking over, she saw Anthony in the corner rubbing his head. He looked up at her, a deathly glint in his eyes, then he looked at a gun lying on the bed. Clem snapped forward as Anthony stood up and hurled himself at the bed. Clem's fingers wrapped around the pistol and pulled it away just as Anthony collided with the mattress. She pointed the gun right at his face, prompting him to leap backwards in a panic.

"Whoa, whoa, don't!"

"Get back!" ordered Clem as she sprang out bed, her finger on the trigger and adrenaline coursing through her veins. "You stay away from me!"

"I will," assured Anthony as he backed out of the room. Clem hastily popped out the pistol's chambers and saw they were all loaded, then popped them back in and stepped out of the bedroom. The first thing Clem spotted was a now awake Omid looking at her from his crib.

"Kem-men."

"Omid!" called Clem before turning to Anthony. "Stay away from him or I'll kill you!"

"I'm not going near him," said Anthony as he pushed himself as close to the wall opposite of Omid as he could.

"Omid, come here, just come to me," said Clem as the boy climbed out of his crib. "You… you just take some ice-cream here," said Clem as she hurried to the closet and grabbed an already open pack of ice-cream. "You just go eat as much as you want, okay?" Clem tossed the ice-cream into the bedroom. "Can you do that for me? Please?"

"Ah-bree!" Omid chased after his favorite treat and Clem slid the bedroom door closed behind him. Turning back to Anthony, Clem saw his right hand slipping into his pocket.

"Freeze!" Anthony stopped moving as Clem pointed the gun at him again. "Whatever that it is, take it out of your pocket." Anthony began to remove his hand from his pocket. "Slowly!" He glared at Clem, then very slowly removed something small and black.

"What is that?" Anthony didn't answer. "Toss over it here, right now!" Anthony sighed, then tossed the object onto to the carpet in front of Clem. She knelt down, keeping the gun aimed at Anthony as she did, then scooped it off the floor. It appeared to be a small black tube, possibly a crushed toilet paper roll completely covered in thick black duct tape.

Noticing a seam in the middle of it, Clem pulled on the top. It came right off and revealed a grizzly looking spike jutting out of the bottom of the tube. It appeared to be a very crudely sharpened blade that was made out of something hard. At first Clem thought it was wooden, but examining it more closely, it didn't look like any piece of wood she had ever seen before.

"Is… is this a bone?" asked Clem as she stared at it. "Did… did you make this out of a walker's bone?" Clem noted the dark green coloring on the spike looked like a match for the bones of old and worn out walkers. And the shaft leading up to the spike had a slight curve to it, like a leg or arm bone might have. "You… you were going to kill me, with this, weren't you? You'd were going to cut me with it and then, it'd be like a walker bit me, because their teeth are made out of bone."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Anthony, sounding unnaturally calm and casual.

"I just saw you! You were just about to cut me with this!"

"I just came in to check on you and you pulled a gun on me."

"What?!"

"Now you're rambling on about some weird piece of junk I've never seen before."

"What… what are you doing?" asked a baffled Clem.

"I could ask you to the same thing," said Anthony as he crossed his arms.

"You're… you're fucking crazy," concluded a horrified Clem.

"That's rich coming from you."

"From me?"

"You're standing around in your underwear pointing a gun at me while rambling on about bones," listed Anthony. "You're freaking me out."

"You… you have no idea what this is?" asked Clem as she held up the crude blade.

"I never saw that before today," said Anthony with complete confidence.

"Never?"

"Never."

Clem tossed the blade at Anthony and he leapt out of the way with all the speed and grace of a crazed jack-rabbit. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"You lying piece of shit! You were going to kill me!"

"You're crazy!" accused Anthony. "If I were gonna kill, why wouldn't I just shoot you?"

"You were going to shoot me, that's why you had this gun!" accused Clem as she brandished the weapon in the air.

"You had that, and I don't know how you got it," stated Anthony. "Clearly you've gone nuts. First you say I was gonna kill you with some magic bone, then I was gonna shoot you? Listen to yourself, you're not making sense."

"I… I saw you—"

"You must have been dreaming or something," insisted Anthony. "I went to check on you and you were tossing and turning in bed before—"

"Stop lying!"

"I ain't lying."

"Yes you are! You're lying right to my face! Like you think I'm stupid or something and I'll believe you and…" Clem felt the weight of her words bearing down on her as she said them. The way Anthony's voice never seemed to change no matter what he said, no matter how blatantly untrue or absurd his statements were, was shocking. Nearly every word was delivered with that same kind of casual confidence that made them sound true. Looking at him now, wearing that same smug smile he always wore, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, it occurred to Clem she didn't know the first thing about this man. "Who are you?"

"Me? I was just trying to be a good friend and—"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Who was just checking in on you when you smacked me with a bedpan and then pulled a gun on me."

"It's your gun! You were going to kill me!"

"Clem, ask yourself, why would I ever want to kill you?"

"You always want to kill people! Or leave them behind! You tried to shoot me when I first met you! I always thought you were an asshole but… you're evil," realized Clem, hardly believing what she was saying. "You're not just selfish, you're fucking evil. You were going to scratch me with that bone just now, and then I'd get sick and die and…" Clem felt her stomach drop. "You killed Pedro!"

"Pedro? I—"

"I remember he said you scratched him with your knife when we let him go. It was that one you tried to use on me just now, wasn't it? It… it was never Patty and you knew it! This—all of this, it's your fault! We lost everything because of you! We lost everyone because of you! You ruined everything! And you… you tried to make us think Patty did it when you knew you killed Pedro this whole time!"

"I made you think Patty killed Pedro?" asked Anthony with a chuckle. "I seem to recall all I said was she gave the kid that bottle of wine, which was true, and then you said she put anti-freeze in it. I never would have thought that in a million years. So if anyone convinced us Patty killed Pedro, it was you." Clem felt her blood boiling as Anthony grinned at her. "And then you go and blame me for a gun you apparently stashed in your bedroom."

"It's your gun, you must have dropped it on the bed after I hit you with the bedpan, when you tried to kill me!"

"If I were trying to kill you, why wouldn't I just shoot you?" asked Anthony. "According to you, I had a gun with me."

"Because… because…"

"Seriously, Clem, you're confused, you must be sick or—"

"I wouldn't come back as a walker if you shot me in the head," realized Clem. "Sarah would notice my skin wasn't messed up and I wouldn't smell like them, and then she'd know you were lying about how I died. So you were going to kill me with the pillow first and then shoot me when I became a walker and tell Sarah…" Clem felt a chill run up her spine. "You killed Sin too… didn't you?"

"Sin? He was an old man and in bad shape before he got shot, he—"

"He would have lived!" yelled Clem through her tears. "You killed him didn't you? Just like how you tried to kill me just now you fucking son of a bitch!"

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?" asked Anthony. "My mom was a bitch."

"Or was that just another lie you bastard?"

"Daddy was never home, so that's actually true too."

"I don't know if anything you say is true! Everything you've ever told us could be a lie! I… I bet you killed Devlin too! You… you…" Staring at Anthony, Clem noticed a subtle shift in his eyes, like he was paying closer attention to what she was saying now then he was second ago. "What really happened to Devlin? Did those people who attacked us really shoot him? Did you even get to the farm? Did you go there at all? Or did you just shoot him in the back or… or…" Clem suddenly realized Anthony hadn't blinked once since she said Devlin's name. "Devlin's… Devlin's not dead, is he?"

Anthony blinked, and like a predator stalking her prey, Clem sensed an opening. "Of course Devlin's alive," she gleefully announced with a devilish smile. "You couldn't kill Devlin even if you tried." Anthony scowled at the girl and it just filled her with a wicked resolve as she tightened her grip on the gun. "Devlin was always smarter than you, and stronger than you, and faster than you, and—"

"And he's fucking dead now," stated Anthony through his teeth without a hint of sympathy.

"Says you, a fucking liar," dismissed Clem.

"I saw them shoot him right in front of me."

"Who?"

"Who what?"

"Who shot Devlin?"

"The fuckers who sacked our farm, who else?"

"Which ones?"

"What?"

"Which ones actually shot Devlin?"

"It was… that bitch who head-butted me and the bearded crybaby who wouldn't shut up about Pedro."

"Oscar?"

"Yeah, whatever his name was."

"Sin shot him right in front of me, and he didn't get back up like Fan did," informed Clem. "Not that you would know that, seeing as you just drove off and left us there."

"Then it was some other bearded guy in plaid, I didn't stop to ask for his fucking name."

"I bet you never even made it back to the farm. You probably tried to kill Devlin the first chance you could get, and then went it didn't work, you had to run away and make up a story why we couldn't go looking for him, or go near where he was."

"What about me getting shot in the arm? Did I make that up?" asked an annoyed Anthony as gestured to the minor scar near his shoulder. "Or all the bullet holes in my fucking truck? Are those imaginary?"

"Bullet holes?"

"Yeah, you see those yet? The whole side of my truck is—"

"Covered in bullet holes, all the same size, and in a line," listed Clem. "It was like someone was shooting a machine gun at it, which was the gun Devlin left with."

"Except it wasn't him, those fuckers—"

"If any of them had machine guns they would have used them on us when they attacked," reasoned Clem.

"Then I guess they picked up the one Devlin dropped after they blew his fucking head off." Clem scowled at Anthony. "You can keep inventing fairytales if it makes you feel better, but Devlin ain't coming back."

"Coming back?"

"Yeah, he—"

"That's the real reason you don't want us to stay in the same place too long; Devlin might catch up with us."

"Oh this is bullshit. You always do this; you and Patty both did. Anything I ever said you'd spin to make me into some kind of twisted psycho."

"You are a twisted psycho! She was right about you! We should have just left you behind at that gas station we found you at!"

"If you had, you two never would have made it out of New Orleans alive," asserted Anthony. "If I really was the bad guy you say I am, why would I have saved your lives?"

"Probably for the same reason you tried to kill Devlin; you didn't want anyone bigger or stronger than you around, and those two men were listening to us…" Clem paused to think back to that day. "You were listening to them too weren't you? You were probably hoping they would shoot us, and only once it sounded like they wouldn't is when you shot one of them, because you didn't want them coming with us."

"You've completely lost it."

"Oh I have?" asked Clem in a mocking tone. "So when we get to Interstate Eighty, you'd be okay with just staying there for a week, right?" Anthony didn't answer. "That big, huge road we all agreed to meet at, the one any of us could get to with enough time? You're not afraid that if wait there long enough, that someone is going to come and tell us all about how you tried to kill him, are you?" He was trying to hide it, but Clem could tell she was making Anthony angry. "Devlin would kick your ass if he was here right now."

"I should have shot you and him back on the river when I had the chance," growled Anthony.

"The river… you pushed me off that bridge, didn't you?" Anthony didn't respond. "Get out."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll kill you." Clem cocked the gun.

"I doubt that."

Clementine pulled the trigger and a bullet whizzed past Anthony's head and struck the windshield.

"The next one will be your head," warned Clem in a cold voice.

"I doubt that," repeated Anthony.

"You think I won't kill you?" challenged Clem as she cocked the gun again. "I've killed people nowhere near as bad you. I'd be doing the world a favor by shooting you right now."

"Yeah, maybe, but would you be doing Sarah a favor?" Clem's blood ran cold after hearing that. "How are you gonna explain me dead in a pool of my own blood to her? Like I said, you look and sound crazy right now. You really think Sarah is gonna come in here, see all that, and believe you when you say I just tried to kill you for no reason one day?"

"You did!" yelled Clem. "And she'll believe me because she trusts me!"

"I don't know Clementine, you sounded a little unsure yourself a minute ago, and you supposedly saw me do it," mocked Anthony. "And sweet ol'Sarah always sees the best in people doesn't she? I doubt she's gonna see what you claim you're seeing in me."

"I've known her longer than anyone left in the world, and a lot longer than you," reminded Clem through clenched teeth. "She'd never believe you over me."

"Oh I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure there's at least a few things Sarah has said to me that she's never said to you. In fact, she told me you got really mad about that once you found out." Clem found herself tightening her grip on the trigger. "I guess we'll find out in a second, seeing as she will have heard that shot and—"

The door swung open and Sarah raced up the steps.

"What's going—"

"Sarah, watch out, Clem—"

"Stay away from him Sarah!"

Sarah reactively backed away from Anthony but then stopped and looked at Clem.

"What's going on?" she asked, terror gripping her voice.

"I heard her and yelling and went to check on—"

"He tried to kill me!"

"She's snapped. She just shot at me!"

"He's lying!"

"You can see the bullet in the damn windshield!"

"A warning shot because he wouldn't leave!"

"Maybe something went wrong with the blood transfusion—"

"Don't listen to him!"

"Maybe she's sick or—"

"He put a pillow over my face and tried to suffocate me!"

"She must have been having a nightmare or—"

"Stop it, both of you!" ordered Sarah, practically shaking.

"Sah-rah." Clementine looked over to see Omid pushing the bedroom door open just enough to squeeze out. "Sah-rah!" he repeated, nearly in tears as he started walking towards the front where Sarah, and Anthony, were standing.

"No, Omid!" Clem grabbed hold of the back of Omid's shirt while keeping her other hand firmly on the gun. "Omid, stay here."

"No!" protested Omid as he tried to pull free.

"You see, she's not well," argued Anthony, his voice disturbingly sincere sounding. "She's scaring him half to death right now."

"Sah-rah!" squealed Omid as he twisted and turned in place as he tried to break free of Clem's grip.

"Clementine, please," begged Sarah. "Just put the gun down—"

"No! He'll kill me Sarah!"

"I don't know what she's talking about," spoke a baffled Anthony as he shook his head. "She just woke up and—"

"Tell him to leave," ordered Clem. "Tell him to go outside."

"Anthony, why don't you—"

"Sarah, she's gonna tell you to leave me behind if I step outside," warned Anthony in his most pitiful voice.

"He'll kill us if he doesn't leave," retorted Clem.

"I've already lost all the others, I can't lose you and Omid too," begged a terrified Anthony. "I… I can't go back to being alone."

"You won't."

"Sah-rah!" cried Omid as he pulled back against Clem with all his might, nearly yanking his shirt out of her hand.

"But you've gotta let me talk to her, so please, for me, just go outside for a minute."

Clem felt her entire body trembling as a chilling silence blanketed the room. The only sound was Omid's occasional grunts as he tried to pull free from Clem's hand and run to Sarah, who was still standing right next to Anthony. The gun was getting heavier with every passing second and Clem was frightened she wouldn't be able to hold it in the air much longer.

Suddenly, Anthony shot Clem a cursory glance before turning back to Sarah, who just looked up at him expectedly. Without a word, he slowly moved past Sarah and down the steps. Clem released Omid and began to lower her gun, when she saw Anthony's arm shoot back inside and grab Sarah's wrist.

"No!" Anthony's head poked back past the threshold for a second and Clem raised the gun and fired.

"Noooooo!" Sarah screamed in horror as Anthony staggered in place for a second, blood pouring out of the side of his head before falling backwards and out of the RV. "No, no, no, no!" Sarah raced outside while a squealing Omid retreated to the bedroom as fast as he could. Clem felt like throwing up and it was hard for her to remain standing, but she forced herself to move towards the door anyways. Lying on the grass outside was Sarah sobbing over Anthony's corpse, a permanent expression of confusion frozen on his now lifeless face.

"Sarah," said Clem. "I'm—"

"WHY!" Sarah shrieked so loud it frightened Clem. "Why is this happening to me! What… what did I do to deserve this!"

"I… I'm sorry Sarah," repeated Clem through her own tears.

"This… this can't be happening… I… I… can't take it anymore!"

Clem watched in utter despair as Sarah collapsed onto the grass and started crying into the dirt. Clem knelt down to place a hand on her shoulder but Sarah immediately swatted it away. With no idea how to comfort Sarah, Clem elected to stand there and listen to the horrible sound of Sarah crying her heart out, which just made Clem want to cry herself.

Eventually, after crying for so long she couldn't breathe anymore, Sarah became disturbingly quiet. Clem watched anxiously as Sarah just lay still in the grass, almost like she had died herself next to Anthony. It was a great relief when she stood up again, but the sight of her covered in dirt and tears streaming down her vacant face was utterly unnerving. Sarah moved over to Anthony's body and grabbed him from under his arms.

"What—"

"I'm burying him," mumbled Sarah in a barely audible whisper. "Just wait in the Brave."

"I—"

"Just wait in the Brave!" Sarah's order stunned Clem. She just stood there and watched as Sarah dragged Anthony away. It was only now she noticed they were parked on the side of a dirt road. It was warm and sunny out, the grass smelled fresh, and there was a slight breeze in the air. Yet all Clem could focus on was Anthony, his lifeless eyes looking right at her, as if they were judging her. Unnerved by a dead man's stare, Clem retreated back into the Brave.

Before she could gather her thoughts, she noticed the homemade knife lying on the floor near the Brave's gas pedals. Examining it again, Clem found it disturbing to behold, a jagged and crude looking weapon that appeared to her as evil as its owner. Terrified of what would happen if anyone ever touched it, Clem hastily retrieved a pair of gloves. She carefully put the cover back on the blade, then wrapped a thick garbage bag around the entire thing, then wrapped that in tape.

Stepping outside to dispose of it, Clem looked over to see Sarah in front of a couple of trees in this otherwise empty field. The trees had a clothesline running on it with a few shirts hanging off them, but it was Sarah slowly dig a grave one shovel full of dirt at a time that Clem couldn't turn away from. She moved like a puppet whose master could barely lift the strings anymore, one clumsy and forced motion after another. Clem wanted to go over there and help, but she knew it would probably just upset Sarah worse.

Looking down at the bagged weapon she was carrying, Clem forced herself to keep moving forward. Nearing Anthony's truck, she stopped briefly to examine it. The bullet holes were much the same as she remembered; all uniform in size and formed in a line. Following the trail of shots from the driver's side window across the length of the vehicle, it was clear someone was shooting at Anthony as he was driving off, she just couldn't be sure who.

Moving past the truck, Clem wandered a good distance out into the field they were parked next to, her side aching and her muscles beginning to feel limp as her adrenaline faded. In every direction, she saw only empty flat land rolling all the way into the distant horizon. Even the sky today was spotless, with not a single cloud in sight. Confident she was as close to nowhere as she could be, Clem knelt down to bury the blade in the soft dirt. Digging even a shallow hole with her hand proved tiring for a weakened Clem, but she endured.

As she prepared to toss the blade away, Clem considered holding on to it long enough to show Sarah. Regardless if it worked as Anthony intended or not, it was proof of his twisted mindset, fashioning a knife from a walker's bone. But seeing how badly Anthony's death was affecting Sarah, Clem realized it would just cause her more pain to mention it. Instead, Clem tossed the blade in the hole, burying it hopes that she was also burying the last thing Anthony could ever use to hurt them.

Returning to the Brave, Clem could see Sarah dragging Anthony's corpse into the hole now. She discovered too late the hole wasn't big enough for Anthony. Sarah looked at his legs awkwardly sticking out of the grave for a second, then pulled him back out of the hole. It was heart-breaking seeing Sarah labor so hard to give Anthony a burial he didn't deserve. Again, Clem wanted to go to Sarah, tell her to stop, to come inside, but couldn't envision any response that wasn't Sarah angrily telling her to go away, and so elected to let her work in the peace.

Heading back into the Brave, a weary Clem made tending to Omid her next priority. She found him in on the bed, curled up under the covers after having likely cried himself quiet. Just trying to touch him caused him to cry out, and Clem found herself having to slowly comfort Omid until he'd finally let her hold him again.

After much coaxing, Clem managed to get Omid to settle enough to change him, then moved onto to feeding him, thinking he needed something other than ice-cream. Giving Omid a spoonful of mixed fruit, Clem couldn't help notice how quiet he was. He wasn't crying now, or making noises when he tasted the fruit like he normally would, he just sat there and ate in silence.

Clementine found herself thinking back to that terrible night at the St. Johns Dairy. She found she had no pity anymore for the man Lee stabbed with a pitchfork; he was a horrible person and he deserved to die. But she still remembered how terrified she was in that moment, to see Lee be capable of killing like that. Looking down at Omid just now, she noticed he turned his head away, like he was trying to avoid looking at Clem. Was he afraid of her now? Was Sarah?

After feeding Omid and getting him to take a nap, Clem retreated to the bathroom. She was very tired now, all the renewed energy she had felt this morning completely drained out of her from what had happened and the pain from her wound returning in full force. She could barely summon the will to give herself a rag bath, and had to be careful to avoid getting the bandages on her side wet. As Clem cleaned herself up, she could hear footsteps coming and going out of the RV.

After getting dressed, she discovered stacks of cans, water, and even a few boxes of bullets just lying on the floor next to the fold-out bed. Sarah entered suddenly carrying a tackle box and a couple of fishing rods and set them on the ground. Watching her, Clem saw Sarah was emptying out Anthony's truck of supplies a couple armfuls at a time. Again, Clem felt compelled to help, but her side ached just from moving around. If she tried to lift anything heavy she would just make it worse, and in all likeliness, Sarah didn't want Clem's help right now.

Instead, Clem just sat in silence and watched Sarah work. Her face was disturbingly vacant except for occasional glimpses of sadness; she almost looked like a walker herself now. Eventually, Sarah diverted from Anthony's truck and walked over to the trees where the clothesline was. She took it down, tossing the couple of shirts hanging from it into a basket, then turned to the tree Anthony was buried under.

Clem watched as Sarah removed a knife from her pocket and started carving something into the bark. After a few seconds, it became clear that Sarah was cutting an 'A' into the tree. Realizing that Sarah was making a grave marker for Anthony, Clem stood up and headed for the bedroom. She stopped to check on Omid, but he was still sleeping, his normally blissfully innocent face scrunched up, as if he was having a bad dream.

Climbing back into bed, Clem discovered despite how tired she was, she couldn't rest after what happened. It already felt like she was dreaming, but not a good dream or even a nightmare. No, this was one of those bad dreams where everything feels a little wrong, where all the things you do everyday suddenly aren't the same anymore, and you don't know what to do but wake up, which she couldn't. After what felt like hours, Clem heard the Brave's engine start. Stepping outside, she saw Sarah was in the driver's seat and the RV was already moving down the road.

Clem navigated around the stacks of supplies and basket of mostly wet clothes to sit in the passenger seat beside Sarah. Her face was blank, like her entire mind was empty now, and the way she moved her arms was eerily mechanical. Clementine wanted to know nothing more than what Sarah was thinking right now, but she couldn't even begin to guess. If anything, it appeared like Sarah wasn't thinking but just operating on instinct, devoid of thought.

"So…" spoke Clem in a quiet voice. "Where are going?"

"Interstate Eighty…" mumbled Sarah in a barely audible whisper. "We'll find somewhere out of sight to park, then we can put up the Ceres marks along the road. If Patty and Jet are still out there, they can find their way back to us."

The way Sarah spoke unnerved Clementine, she sounded a lot like she did after Carlos died, like she wasn't fully there anymore.

"Okay…" Clem bit her lip for a second, then spoke again. "How do you feel?" Sarah didn't answer Clem. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," answered Sarah in a quiet voice.

"Is… is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just rest Clem," mumbled Sarah.

"Oh… okay."

Clem waited a few seconds to see if Sarah said anything else, and when she didn't Clem slunk away and back to bed. Crawling under the covers, Clem felt the aching in her side grow even worse. She had likely agitated her wound with everything she had done this morning. But reaching for the painkillers on the dresser, Clem found herself thinking that despite how bad it hurt, her wound was now the least of her worries.