Three Orphan Pilgrimage (The Alternative to the Final Season)

by J. Gray Dingler

A story about three kids on a post-apocalyptic road trip, and the sequel to Young and Young at Heart. Their reprieve from a world torn apart by the dead coming to a close, a ten-year-old girl and her best friend set out on a journey to find a place to call home for not only themselves but also for the baby boy that they promised to take care of. [Art:Albaharu. Some M-Rated Content]

100. Original Sin

Omid splashed his stubby arms in the water, awkwardly paddling forward as Clementine carefully held onto him."That's it, one more time!" encouraged Clem as she helped him swim to the end of the pool. "Almost there!" Omid reached the edge of the pool and slapped his hand against it. "You did it again!"

Clem hoisted Omid out of the water in celebration and Omid responded with a big toothy smile. "Who's our special little boy?" Omid giggled in response. "That's right." Clem pulled him in close. "It's you." She held Omid close to her body and sank gently into the water, enjoying its and his warmth. Clem never would have expected a place like this could still exist, and it was certainly the last thing she expected to find after the previous two weeks.

Trudging through snow too thick to drive or bike through, all in hopes of finding enough scraps to last another day, and all the while dreading she'd come back to that horrible sight she had seen after her trip to Denver, of Omid lying dead and Sarah crying over his corpse. And there was Simon now too, whom Clem felt obligated to help. Every day she worried about losing someone, and every night she was afraid to wake up to find someone had become a walker and killed what little good she had left in the world.

Even with the antibiotics and the syringe bulb, Omid spent entire days gasping for air. It was agonizing, and every day they had to go through the same routine of trying to get Omid to eat enough food to keep his strength up, as well as trick him into taking his daily medicine, which didn't even appear to be helping. The rest of Clem's days were spent battling exhaustion in the cold and her nights racked with anxiety until the xanax she swallowed would take effect and put her to sleep.

Only a week after that hellish routine did Omid finally start breathing easier. It was a small miracle but one they were very grateful for. The day after that Omid started eating regularly again. And the day after that he was walking around again. When enough of the snow melted, Clem and Simon went out looking for food and got lucky, finding a locked pantry that the locals must have missed which gave them enough to eat for at least a week.

Only after finally conquering all their immediate crises did their thoughts turn to long term ones. Sarah's pregnancy, Simon's condition, and the never-ending need for more food, water and warmth all loomed on their collective minds. It was enough to nearly drive Clem into a panic attack, but instead she found herself recalling a sign she saw when they first came to Granby. It mentioned a hot spring and so Clem suggested checking it for food next.

The sign led them to a town literally named Hot Sulphur Springs, but further investigation revealed there was an actual hot spring as well. They spent the day clearing out whatever food they could find in this tiny hamlet but the entire time Clem just keeping thinking about that hot spring. When they finally headed home that evening, Clem found herself reading a brochure she took from the actual springs' lobby over and over again just imagining what it would be like.

She spent the entire ride back home formulating a pitch to convince Sarah that they should all go out there together tomorrow; she agreed almost instantly. Clem then spent late into the night trying to think of the right way to ask Simon to take them there; he suggested going the next morning before Clem could even ask them. They all agreed the allure of a hot bath was more than enough to take a risk on.

Clem had worried the springs would be in some state of disrepair from neglect, or that the advertising about them being entirely naturally occurring was a lie, but fortune smiled on them for once. The springs were comprised of a series of small pools behind the main building, with many of them being made private with sturdy tent-like enclosures, most of which were still standing. The water had an unpleasant odor which the brochure claimed was sulfur, but it was a minor inconvenience for such comfort.

A proper bath was something none of them had enjoyed in a very long time. It had been even longer since they had warm one, and one as nice as this Clem couldn't recall since before the outbreak. Sitting there, cradling Omid in her arms while sinking a little more into that soothing water, Clem briefly felt like she was in heaven. Literally bathed in warmth while holding one of the people she loved most in the world, Clem only wished she could stay in this moment forever.

"Ow!" Clem turned her head suddenly to find a giggling Omid pulling on her hair. "Stop that," said Clem as she carefully pulled her hair free from Omid's grip. He just smiled at her in response, and she smiled back at him. Clem helped him out of the pool and reached over to grab a pair of scissors. They were both due for a haircut and hair was easier to cut wet. Clem did her own first, making sure to cut it as short as she could, then she started on Omid's hair.

Omid was restless as he kept trying to get out of Clem's lap. It made cutting his hair more difficult but Clem couldn't be mad. In fact, she couldn't be happier to see him wanting to explore and move around. After all those terrible days and nights stuck in bed too sick to move, he was living again. She left him a bit of hair, reasoning he wasn't going out into danger on his own anytime soon and that she couldn't cut it any shorter without risking nicking his ear during his constant fidgeting.

Drying off and getting dressed, Clem took extra care to make sure Omid's jacket was zipped up, his hat was on snugly, and his scarf wrapped tightly around his face. Sarah told Clem that cold weakened your immune system and made it easier for you to get sick and so she wasn't taking any chances. Even with medicine, Omid had spent a painful week barely clinging to life. He might not survive another brush with pneumonia; Clem was confident she wouldn't.

The pair walked together, hand in hand towards the main building. The hot springs were just on the very edge of the actual town named after it, nuzzled between a steep hill and small creek lined with trees that concealed the area from view. The sun was shining as they walked across the loose snow that was gradually melting away. They had a nice breakfast of fresh fish, the last of their oatmeal mixed with sugar, and a little orange kool-aid to drink. It was as close to a vacation as they could hope for at this point.

The main building had little of use, being a kind of spa for luxury treatments that no one was around to offer anymore. Stepping into one of the rooms, Clem's eyes immediately fell on Sarah. She didn't feel well after breakfast this morning and the massage tables were the closest thing this place had to beds. Before Clem could say anything, Omid hurried out of her grip and rushed right over to Sarah. She clutched her stomach as she slowly sat up all the while Omid tugged at her feet.

"Hey there," she said, faking some enthusiasm as she carefully stepped off the bed. "How are you feeling today?" Omid smiled wildly and almost seemed to murmur as he opened his mouth. "Do you want to say hi?" asked Sarah, her enthusiasm genuine now. "Come on, you can do it, say hi. Hi Sarah!" Clem and Sarah watched in anticipation, but Omid didn't say anything, he just kept smiling at her. "That's okay," said Sarah with a smile as she rubbed his head. "I know what you mean."

"I keep thinking he's gonna start talking again too," said Clem as she walked over to them. "He was laughing so much earlier I swear he was about to say something."

"That'd be nice," said Sarah as she hugged Omid. "I'm guessing it went well in the hot spring with him?"

"It was great," said Clem. "I cleaned him up, and then I helped him swim around the pool over and over again. It's the happiest I've seen him in forever."

"I wish I could have seen it." Sarah sighed.

"I'm sorry," said Clem. "You said—"

"Yeah, I know what I said." Sarah rubbed her head as she took a deep breath.

"You could… take him back in there right now," suggested Clem. "Omid wouldn't mind going back for—"

"No I… I'd really like to be alone for a little while." Clem examined Sarah carefully. Misery tugged at the edges of her mouth, contorting it into a constant frown while her eyes seemed glued half-shut. She braced one of her hands against her stomach while using her other hand to stretch her back, flinching as she bent backwards ever so slightly.

"I understand." Clem grabbed Omid's hand and gently pulled him away from Sarah. "I'm sure he'll get dirty again in no time, and then you can be the one to give him a bath."

"Yeah, that'd be fun," mumbled a weary Sarah as she adjusted her glasses. "The hot springs feel good, right?"

"It was wonderful," assured Clem. "Even better than Simon said it was."

"That's good," said Sarah as she headed for the door. "I'd like to feel good again, even if it's just for a while."

Sarah stepped out and Clem felt Omid pulling against her arm as he tried to follow her. "No, not right now Omid," said Clem as she gently pulled him back. "Sarah… she wants to be alone for now." Looking at Omid's face it was like every bit of happiness had just been drained out of him and replaced with the apprehension that plagued them on a daily basis. "You… you want to go check in on Simon?" Omid didn't answer. "Let's go check in on Simon. I bet he's lonely just keeping watch outside."

Clem started moving and eventually Omid followed along with her. The sulphur hot springs, both the actual springs and the town of the same name, showed almost no sign of conflict. Much like Granby, it appeared the locals had time to pack and leave behind what would be a nice place to live if there was a more regular source of food on hand. At least it made a nice place to stop and rest for a morning.

Stepping out the front doors, Clem's eyes were drawn to Simon's RV. It wasn't big enough to really be an actual mobile home like the Brave, but there was something comforting in seeing it just the same. They had never actually discussed if they'd stay together or not, and every time Clem woke up in the morning she was afraid he'd just be gone. So far that hadn't happened, and Clem was too afraid to ask why. Maybe he was as lonely for companionship as they were.

Clem looked up to see Simon sitting on the roof of his RV. He was supposed to be keeping watch but looked distracted. She did a quick look for trouble herself but there was nothing to see. The road was empty as when Clem kept watch earlier and the only thing she could hear was the wind gently passing her by. Looking back up at Simon, she noticed he was staring at something in his hands.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked

"Just reading this brochure you had," said Simon as he flipped the page. "The first inhabitants of the springs were the Ute Indians, who believed in the healing qualities of the waters," he read. "In eighteen-forty, William Byers became the first white man to discover these hot springs', yeah because who cares about the people who were already living there right?

"With the aid of the U.S. Calvary and the courts, he somewhat deviously took control of the hot springs." Simon laughed to himself. "Somewhat deviously? That's a really nice way of saying he stole it, probably at gunpoint, or over the Ute's dead bodies."

Clem sighed. "I'm sorry Simon."

"Don't worry about it. The brochure also says the Ute elders were allowed back onto their own land… a hundred-fifty years later." Simon tossed the brochure away. "My uncle would have a lot to say if he ever saw this crap." Simon hopped off the roof of his RV. He landed on the pavement and stumbled forward, but caught himself before he fell over.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Are you going to ask me that every morning?"

"I'll stop if you ask me to," shrugged Clem. "It's just… when someone tells you that they're dying, it makes you worry, especially these days when people don't really die right anymore."

"We're all dying…" Simon looked over to see Clem staring at him. "I feel okay, I guess. I mean, I certainly feel better compared to when we first met."

"Even without insulin?"

"Actually, I kept using it and I think it is helping," he explained. "Not as much as it should, but a little bit, like maybe it's not all the way expired or… something. I don't know, maybe it's just a placebo effect and I feel better because I've had more to eat lately? If I had some strips I could know for sure."

"Strips?"

"Test strips. You prick yourself, put a little blood on it, and stick them in this little machine that tells you your glucose level."

"But we can't get those without going back to Denver, can we?"

"We probably can actually… I just haven't been looking for them."

"Why not?"

"Afraid it'll tell me the medicine is just expired, and I'm just deluding myself, and I'm not ready to deal with that… yet." Simon sighed, then looked down at Omid. He must have noticed the apprehension on Omid's face because Simon forced himself to smile as he knelt down to get a closer look at him. "Hey there little guy, don't let me get you down. Did you have fun in the hot spring? I know I did!"

The oddly joyful tone Simon used when talking to Omid always seemed to make him smile, and today was no exception.

"He loved it," confirmed Clem.

"Of course you did!" said Simon with a smile as rubbed Omid's head. "You feel all better, right?" Simon looked up at Clem suddenly. "He's still doing better, right?"

"Are you going to ask me that every morning?" parroted Clem with a smirk.

"Yes," said Simon as he turned his attention back to Omid. "If anything's wrong with him I want to know about it. I can't fix what's wrong with me but I can at least help keep this adorable little guy happy."

"He's all right, better than he has been in a while," assured Clem. "If he just started talking again, it'd be almost like before everything went wrong, at least in one way."

"Again?" asked Simon as he looked up. "You mean he could talk but he stopped?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Something happened," said Clem bluntly. "And he hasn't said a word since."

Clem had tried to mask her pain when she said that, but she must not have done a good job because Simon was visibly disturbed by her words.

"Is… is that true Omid?" asked Simon with strained optimism. "Did you use to talk to everyone?"

"He was just getting to point where we were really understanding him," noted Clem. "He even used to know the Thai way to say cheers."

"How did that happen?"

"A man we used to know taught it to him while he was babysitting him one day. He just came in yelling chai-yo!" recalled Clem with a smile. "It was so cute."

"Well maybe he just needs a new lesson then," said Simon. "Omid, how would you like to learn to say hi in Navajo?"

Omid smiled at Simon. "I think that's a yes." Simon looked up at Clem. "I… I can watch him for a little while if you want. I know Sarah wasn't feeling well this morning and—"

"Thanks Simon." Clem gave him a gentle nod, turned around, and headed back the way she came. She could hear Omid giggling again and knew he was in good hands. She had only known Simon for a very short time but she doubted he could fake the kindness he shows for Omid. It was a rare commodity now, kindness, and as Clem headed back to the springs she couldn't help worrying about the kindest person she knew.

Clem went back to the pool she used earlier and called Sarah's name, but received no response. Peeking inside, she didn't see any sign of Sarah. There were multiple covered pools that made up the springs and Clem went up to each of them while calling Sarah's name, only to repeatedly receive no response. Clem was starting to worry and began poking her head into the pools, desperate to find Sarah. Clem was about to yell her name again when she poked her head past one curtain and found Sarah inside, just sitting in the water. Clem was going to turn away but stopped when she caught sight of Sarah's uncovered stomach; it was massive.

"Clem?" exclaimed Sarah as she turned her head.

"Sorry," Clem apologized as she looked away in a hurry. "I… I just wanted to check in on you and when I didn't see you in the pool I used—

"There was a bunch of soap and hair in it," said Sarah. "And the next one I checked had a hole in the roof and there were all these leaves in it so… I just kept looking until I found one that looked clean."

"Oh, okay," said Clem. "And you didn't hear me calling your name a minute ago?"

"Um… no, sorry. I guess I was just… lost in thought."

"Oh, okay… so you're all right, right?"

"Yeah… I'm all right."

"All right…" Clem didn't think she sounded all right. "I'll just go and—"

"Please don't," begged Sarah. "I mean, if you need to take care of Omid—"

"He's with Simon right now."

"So… it's just you out there?"

"Yeah, why?" Clem waited patiently for Sarah to answer, but all she got was silence. "Sarah, you know you can always tell me any—"

"What are we going to do with my baby?" Sarah asked in a hushed voice. "I mean… assuming something doesn't happen and I die giving—"

"You'll be okay," insisted Clem. "All right? I told you, I was there when Christa had Omid. It was scary for a while, but afterwards she was okay, remember?"

"But then what?'"

Clem sighed. "Like we talked about, we'll probably have to just… give it back to God, like Christa said."

"But… but how exactly? Are we just gonna… shoot it?" Clem didn't have an answer to that question, and trying to think of one made her stomach turn. "I mean if doesn't just die, are… are we just not gonna feed it until it does?"

"I… I don't—"

"And even if we did want to feed it, any formula would be expired by now so the only thing I could is breastfeed it and… I can't do that." Clem couldn't see Sarah, but the pain in her voice painted a pretty clear image in her mind, and she didn't like it. "It hate being pregnant as it is and to think I'm gonna have to feed it myself with my… It's so gross. I hate even thinking about it, and all for a baby that's just gonna die anyway."

Clem could hear Sarah crying now. She looked at the entrance to the pool and wanted to go in, but felt awkward intruding on Sarah while she was in the bath. So instead, Clem crept over to the curtain and slowly stuck her arm through the opening. She wasn't sure if Sarah would even see her, but it didn't take long before Clem felt a wet hand squeezing her own.

"I'm so sorry," wept Sarah.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," assured Clem. "And we'll get through this eventually."

"God… I don't even know how long it'll be because I've lost track of the dates," admitted Sarah. "I think it's late December, but it could the New Year by now for all I know. Either way, it's probably gonna be at least two more months, maybe three… that's such a long time."

"I know."

"Should… should we at least try to take care of it?"

"You just said you don't want to," reminded Clem.

"I don't!" cried Sarah. "But, if it doesn't die after it's born… then what? Do we just… kill it ourselves? Or… do we take care of it and hope it doesn't live too long?"

"I… I have no idea Sarah."

"I… I don't want to go through all this again. When I thought Omid was going to die it… it was so horrible. I don't want to have to feed and clean and listen to another baby cry for days or even weeks… just to wake up to find it dead one day." Clem felt Sarah squeezing her hand with both of hers, to the point it was painful now.

"I should have kept drinking," lamented Sarah. "It's probably gonna be born messed up and just suffer a lot and if I had kept drinking and killed it then it wouldn't have to and I wouldn't be going through this and…"

Sarah started crying again and every choked sob felt like a dagger through Clem's heart. She felt her hand be released suddenly, probably because Sarah was crying into her own now. She wanted to go inside and hold her, but she doubted it would do any good right now. Instead, Clem racked her mind for anything she could say that would help Sarah.

"Sarah," said Clem. "Do you remember what Christa said to us just… just before she got off the Brave?"

"Huh?"

"Do you remember what Christa told us before she died?" said Clem.

"Uh… she said a lot," mumbled Sarah. "About not letting people know we had the Brave, and don't tell people we're just two girls on our own, and—."

"She also said when things aren't so bad, that's when we should just be happy and remember why we're staying alive," recited Clem. "Things aren't great right now, but lately they've been better. We've got enough food for a little while, Omid isn't sick anymore, and it's not too cold today. Now I know that's not a lot, but you should enjoy it while you can."

"I'm trying," said Sarah. "But it's hard because—"

"We don't know what to do about your baby, and we're probably not gonna know until… it's here." Clem took a deep breath. "There's nothing we can do right now about it. I mean, unless you've thought of something you need me to do?"

"No," admitted Sarah. "I've spent all morning thinking about it and all I've come up with is wishing I could go back and do things differently."

"Yeah, but we can't do that, so let's just not worry about it."

"But—"

"When it happens, we'll handle it, one way or the other," promised Clem. "Until then, we got each other, and we got Omid, so let's just enjoy it while we still can." Clem listened closely; Sarah wasn't crying anymore. "You… you okay?"

"Yeah, I… I just keep thinking about that time I said babies can't hurt anyone…. this one's hurting me." Sarah sighed loudly. "Every day it's a little harder to get up, I'm always hungry, sometimes I feel sick, I have to pee all the damn time. It all hurts so much, and for a baby I just want to go away already." Clem didn't know what to do but offer her hand again, which Sarah grabbed hold of. "I hate this so much."

"I'm sorry," said Clem in a whisper. "I shouldn't have said all that stuff about just enjoying yourself just now."

"No, you're right," insisted Sarah. "It's just… it's hard to forget about something that's literally inside of you."

Clem felt an odd tinge of pain in her own stomach upon hearing that. Even after all the time she's spent around Sarah, and all the time before that she was with Christa, she still didn't know what it felt like to be pregnant. If anything, she was afraid of what that must feel like, and tried her best not to think about it; Sarah didn't have that luxury.

"I… I'll just go," said Clem suddenly. "I'll leave you—"

"Please don't," begged Sarah.

"Okay, I won't," assured Clem as she felt Sarah tugging on her arm. "I just thought you might want to be alone again."

"I think I've spent enough time alone today," reasoned Sarah.

Clem waited patiently for Sarah to dry herself and get dressed. Looking up at the sky, it was a clear day and it felt good to feel the sun on her skin. It was relaxing, and Clem soaked in this rare moment where her mind wasn't suffocated with doubt and concern. Sarah emerged from the pool, a weary look on her still tired face. Clem stood up as Sarah approached her. She was expecting Sarah to say something, but she just threw her arms around Clem.

"I love you, so much," professed Sarah as she squeezed Clem for dear life. "I… I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I feel the same way," admitted Clem as she hugged Sarah back, trying not to cry. "Sorry the hot springs didn't help. I thought—"

"Oh it did," assured Sarah. "It's just… you know."

"Yeah."

Sarah gave Clem another firm squeeze before finally letting her go. "You said Omid was with Simon?"

"Yeah."

"I'd think I'd like to spend some time with him right now."

The pair headed out and back to the front of the building. There they found Simon and Omid near the RV. They watched as Simon rolled a ball down a hill and Omid went charging after it, laughing all the way. Clem smiled as he clumsily scooped up the ball, then started rushing it back up the hill to Simon, who was also smiling.

"Hah, hah." Clem thought Simon was laughing, but he kept saying that while he gestured towards himself. "Hah," he repeated.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem as she approached the pair.

"Like I said, giving him a little language lesson. If you want to ask for something in Navajo, you say hah," explained Simon before turning back to Omid. "Hah!" Omid stared at Simon, then inched forward and placed the ball in his open hand. "He's a quick learner."

"What else can you teach him?" asked an eager Sarah.

"I also taught him if you want to tell someone to take something, you say na." Simon offered the ball back to Omid. "Na," he said as he pushed the ball closer to Omid. "Na." Omid reached out and took the ball. "There you go."

"Who's our smart little boy?" asked Sarah in a sweet voice as she approached Omid.

"Let's see how smart," said Clem as she knelt down so she could look Omid in the eyes. "Hah." Omid looked at Clem for a second, then gave the ball to her. "Na." Clem passed the ball back and Omid accepted it. "Hah, na, hah, na." Omid dutifully kept giving and accepting the ball, a goofy grin on his face as he did. "Na!" Omid moved his hands to pass the ball but then pulled it back. He looked confused, but then dropped the ball and held out his hands, expecting something.

"He understands," said Sarah, her words overflowing with glee.

"I think he's actually learning Navajo faster than I did," said Simon as he started fumbling through his pockets. "And we probably shouldn't confuse him now so… here." Simon took his keys out of his pocket. "Have an authentic Navajo keychain," Simon said with a smirk as he unhooked a small object made out of beads. "Courtesy of my dad."

"Simon, is your dad gave you—"

"He made tons of these things," assured Simon as he placed the keychain in Omid's eager hands. "He'd usually offer to throw one in for people who bought a rug."

Omid happily took the keychain with both hands. It was a small thin objected covered in tiny blue, black, yellow, orange, and red beads arranged in a striking pattern. Kneeling down beside Omid, Clem caught sight of his jacket's zipper and got an idea. She took the little hook from the keychain and attached it to the zipper. Taking a step back, Clem smiled as she admired the ornament, hanging in front like a tiny colorful tie that complemented Omid's NASA jacket.

"What do you say Omid?" prompted Sarah as she slowly knelt down. "Can you say thank you? Thank, you?"

"Ahéhee'," said Simon.

"Huh?"

"It's how you say thank you in Navajo." Simon turned to Omid. "Can you say ahéhee'? Ah-heh-hey?" Omid smiled at Simon. "Yeah, you're welcome little guy."

"Thanks Simon, for everything," said Clem. "I'm sorry Omid can't tell you thanks himself, or... a-hent-hey?"

"Close enough," said Simon. "I'm probably not the best teacher myself actually. My uncle was always on my case about my Navajo being sloppy. 'Our people didn't keep this language alive and use it to win a world war just for you to forget it now' he'd always say."

"Your uncle sounds smart," noted Sarah.

"Yeah he…. he was. I probably should have listened to him more, a lot more." Simon sighed as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "All right, well I guess we're done with the hot springs for now, unless one of you want to go again?"

"No, not right now," said Sarah.

"I think I'm good," said Clem. "What about you?"

"Even after a soak, I'm still sore from pumping out so much gas the other night," said Simon as he rubbed his shoulder. "But I think I'll wait because I'll probably just be even sorer after we finish raiding the town over for food. Speaking of which, we better get moving."

They piled into Simon's RV and headed back to Granby. Simon stopped outside the Brickhouse which is where Sarah and Omid got out. Clem came in and helped to get a fire going. It wasn't too cold today but, again, she preferred to be safe instead of sorry. Stoking the flames, Clem watched as Sarah took off Omid's hat, rubbed his hair, and told him how cute he looked with his new haircut. It did Clem a lot of good to see them both smiling again, shame she couldn't stay to enjoy it very long.

Clem got back in the RV and she and Simon headed off towards what was becoming a new daily routine. The pair cleared out everything to eat in Granby shortly after the snow melted, along with most everything in Hot Sulphur Springs the other day, so now they were heading out to that town with a pharmacy they stopped at on their way to Denver. Clem reasoned the scant amount of cold medicine she found was more than what Granby's pharmacy had, meaning they might find some food as well.

And they had some success when they arrived, finding a few restaurants with big cans of vegetables that hadn't been taken yet along with the occasional odd can of even odder contents someone either forgot or simply didn't want to pack when they left home. Even having only known Simon for a short time, Clem had developed a pretty consistent rapport with him. It only takes a couple of days of tossing houses for scraps before someone will aspire to find the fastest way to get through such a tedious task.

After a couple of hours of dull scavenging, the pair agreed to break for lunch. They headed for the first house with a chimney and settled in for a meal as soon as they had a fire going. As Clem fished her utensils out of her backpack along with a can opener, Simon removed what looked like a giant pen from his own pack. He fiddled with a dial on it before removing the cap at the end, revealing the needle tip.

"Does that hurt?" blurted out Clem as Simon lifted up his shirt.

"Every damn time." He winced as he stuck the needle into his side. "So, what's on the menu?"

Clem pulled out one of the cans they had collected and examined it.

"Pink salmon?"

"Somehow, I doubt that'll be as good as the fish we caught for breakfast," noted Simon as Clem grabbed her can opener.

"Yeah, well, there's no river near this town, so this will have to do because it's the only protein we've found." Clem pried the lid open and grimaced at the chunk of meat inside. "I'll catch you a fish for dinner though, how's that sound?"

"You don't gonna do that," insisted Simon as he put away his insulin pen. "I can catch my own dinner."

The pair ate quickly, partly because they were in unfamiliar territory but mostly because this canned salmon tasted awful. It was like chewing through salty thick mud, and Clem had to resist the urge to gag. After she finished she had to run up to the bathroom. She spent several minutes hunched over the toilet afraid she was going to puke, but eventually the feeling passed. Heading back downstairs, Clem discovered the fire had been put out and Simon was gone.

She expected to find him waiting in the RV outside, but he wasn't there either. The RV was still there meaning he couldn't have gone far. Clem wondered if he had gone to the house next door to use its bathroom since she spent so long in this one's. She was about to call out for him when she heard his voice coming from behind the house. Running into the backyard, Clem found Simon aiming a bow and arrow at a tree near the edge of the fence.

"Goddammit," he swore as the arrow flew past the tree.

"Where'd you get that?" asked Clem as she walked up behind him.

"Huh?" said Simon as he turned around. "Oh, I got it from that sporting goods store near the edge of Granby," he explained as he pulled an arrow from a quiver on his hip. "You know, the one we got those good fishing rods from and your new binoculars?"

"When?"

"A couple of days ago after the snow started to melt," he said as he pulled back an arrow. "Figured I could use a long range weapon." Simon let go of the arrow and again it flew past the tree. "Although it would help if I could aim it worth a shit."

"What about that?" asked Clem as she pointed to Simon's rifle leaning against the side of the house.

"It's only got one bullet in it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I spent like an hour looking in that police station after you held me up and only found four bullets. I wasted one trying to get it to fire in their firing range, another to make sure I actually knew how it works, then that one to scare you that day before we went to Denver, so that leaves just the one bullet."

"Wait, hold on," said Clem. "Are you saying every time we've been out to get food these last few days, you've had a gun with only one bullet in it?"

"I kept figuring I'd find some more bullets eventually," said Simon.

"Why didn't you just tell me? I might have had some that fit that gun." Simon didn't answer, he just turned away.

"Why do you care?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"I care because if we ran into something, or someone dangerous, we might not be able to fight them off because you didn't have any bullets left." Clem waited for an answer, but Simon just stood there with his back to her. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

"If I didn't, would I have just told you that I'm almost out of bullets?"

"Why then?"

"What can I say? I've had a lot of my mind between thinking about all the different ways I could die and what to do about it and…" Simon looked over his shoulder at Clem, who just stared back at him. "I screwed up, okay?"

"It's okay," assured Clem. "I've screwed up plenty of times." Clem found herself recalling what she had done to Simon and feeling ashamed all over again. "So… do they teach every one where you lived how to use a bow an arrow?" asked Clem, desperate to change the subject.

"No, well, sorta. I mean, it's like any sport, so most of us give it a try when we're kids, you know?" he explained as he pulled back another arrow.

"I played soccer a little before things changed," said Clem. "I never really liked it though."

"Yeah, I hear you. I only did this a couple of times because my uncle really wanted me to." Simon let another arrow fly and it bounced awkwardly off the edge of the tree. "Ugh, I should have just taken that crossbow I saw instead."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know, I guess I've been thinking a lot about my uncle lately. He taught history at our school and was always trying to get me in particular to learn more about our culture."

Simon fired off another arrow and it struck the ground in front of the tree. "I just always liked going fishing with my mom more. It was relaxing. We'd just hang around and talk until something bit our lines. Sometimes we'd just stay out until the stars came out... then she was sent away."

Clem felt like telling Simon his mom could still be out there, but she didn't want to get his hopes up; it didn't help her after all.

"Goddamn it," mumbled Simon as another arrow bounced off the tree. "You know my uncle said I'd regret not learning to use a bow, and he said it before the chindi ever showed up." Simon sighed. "At least he didn't say I told you so. In fact, he told me to focus on what's important instead."

"What was that?"

"We always needed more food, and we couldn't eat just fish, so I spent a lot of my time helping out on the farms."

"You had farms?"

"Yeah, there was this big bunch of them on the New Mexico side of the border," explained Simon as he drew back another arrow. "And there was always something that needed doing, usually hauling water around or digging ditches so we don't have to haul the water so far, every damn day. It was driving me crazy." Simon let the arrow fly and once it again it bounced off the tree.

"I know how you feel," said Clem. "We made our own farm last spring."

"Just you and Sarah?"

"There were more of us then," said Clem. "Even then, Sarah gave herself anxiety attacks trying to remember everything we needed to do to make seeds for next year and I spent weeks hauling buckets of water across a damn field wondering if any of the stuff we were doing was even working."

"I'm guessing since you're here right now, it didn't."

"No it did, and for a while, I thought we had a home," said Clem. "But—"

"Someone else wanted it." Clem looked over and saw anger in Simon's eyes.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "And I guess that's what happened to you too?"

"It's like being back in frontier times."

"Huh?"

"That's what my uncle started saying after the chindi showed up," said Simon. "It's like frontier times; we spend most of our time trying to grow food and the rest of it worrying about crazy white people killing us to steal our land.' He was joking when he said it but…"

"What did happen to your uncle, and the rest of your people?" Simon let out a long and pained sigh. "Sorry, forget I asked."

"They're gone, let's just leave it at that," insisted Simon as he drew another arrow.

"All right." Clem watched as Simon fired another arrow, this time striking the bottom of the tree. It was the first one that had actually stuck to the wood, but Simon didn't look satisfied. "You know, that might come in handy with walkers. It doesn't make noise and you could reuse the arrows."

"Yeah I know, all the people on the school's archery team got a lot more important once the chindi showed up," said Simon as he pulled back another arrow. "I was jealous of them for a long time, going out to fight those things and coming back heroes, then I saw Denver." Simon fired the arrow and it sailed right past the tree. "Working on a farm wasn't so bad in retrospect."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Clem, finding herself nostalgic for those long hard yet simple days of tending a field. "Speaking of Denver, I was thinking, we're probably gonna have to make another trip there before winter is over." Clem waited for Simon to respond, but he just stood there quietly.

"Look, I know it'll be dangerous, but this time we're not all sick and we won't need to rush in. I figure we take enough food for a couple of days, drive down there, and take our time clearing out walkers. We don't even have to go all the way back to that store, we probably could find food in the restaurants and houses we passed before that. If we're thorough and careful, we can probably scrounge up enough over a few days to last us the rest of winter."

Clem kept waiting for Simon to say something, but he just kept standing there, a hint of regret tugging at the edges of his face. "You're not gonna stay with us through the winter, are you?"

"I didn't say that," snapped Simon.

"I'd understand," said Clem. "You've already done a lot for us and—"

"I'm not just gonna run off on you, okay!" Clem thought Simon sounded angry, but when she looked over at him, he didn't appear mad. There was an odd look in his eyes as he stared down at his feet. It was like he felt guilty, but Clem wasn't sure over what.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Simon took a deep breath. "Look, can we just talk about this later?"

"We don't have to go back to Denver," reasoned Clem. "Maybe we—"

"It's not that, it's… why don't we just head back early today?" suggested Simon as he stepped forward to collect the arrows lying around or stuck in the tree.

"It's still kinda early," noted Clem as she looked up at the sun. "We could at least check out—"

"Please, let's just cut it short today, okay?" asked an apologetic Simon. "We got plenty for now and I'm feeling a little light-headed. So—"

"Sure," said Clem. "I think I'd like a break too." The pair returned to the RV, tossing their backpacks into the camper and stowing their weapons carefully in the RV's cab. Clem climbed into the RV next to Simon. Looking at him, she could clearly see something was bothering him, but she didn't know what.

"Hey," said Clem, as she tried to think of what to say. "You know… we could go fishing together. It'd probably be safer than doing it separately, and, if there's anything you want to talk about, you could tell me." Clem watched Simon's face and was bothered by the lack of a reaction. "Just forget I said anything." Clem looked away and sighed.

"I'd like that." Clem looked over at Simon, who was looking back at her. She still wasn't exactly sure what he was thinking, but he looked a little bit less anxious than he did a minute ago. He turned the key, started the engine and they started moving.

"Can I ask you something," said Simon.

"What?" asked Clem.

"What do you and Sarah plan to do about her being… you know?"

Clem sighed to herself. "Pray she doesn't die giving birth, and… that the baby does."

"That's… that's it?" asked Simon, sounding anxious. "You don't have like a plan?"

"What plan can we have?" asked Clem as Simon turned onto the main road. "At this point, the best we can hope for is enough luck to keep warm and fed this winter." Simon sighed out loud. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just…" Simon trailed off. "I don't know, if there's anything I can do for her or Omid—"

"Wait, do… do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I… I swear I can hear…"

Clem watched as Simon's eyes went wide with shock as he heard the same thing she did; there was another vehicle behind them, and judging from how loud its engine was, it was getting closer, fast. Before Clem could even say anything, Simon spun the wheel around and the entire RV with it.

"Don't!" It was too late, they had already skidded to an awkward stop and Clem could see it through her window. It was the Vaquero's racer, charging right towards her.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Clem's hands acted on their own. One pulled her mask down while the other opened the door. She leapt out and looked ahead at the rapidly approaching car. There was no doubt in her mind now, it was the same racer that had chased them down outside of Cheyenne. It practically screeched at her while barreling towards where she was standing, and Clem felt her knees trembling as she flung her gun over her shoulder.

The car swerved suddenly as Clem started firing, prompting her to adjust her aim as it careened off the pavement and into the dirt. Firing into the side of the car as the vehicle tore across the mud and snow, Clem felt a click and realized the machine gun was out of ammo. She dropped it and pulled her pistol just in time to place a few more shots into the back of the racer as it drove away. Then it disappeared over the horizon and like that it was gone, with Clem standing there dumbstruck with what had happened.

"What the fuck was that!" Simon's panicked yell spurred Clem into action.

"We need to get out of here!" said Clem as she holstered her pistol and rushed over to the camper's door. "Right now!" she yelled as she grabbed her backpack and then jumped into the RV's cab.

"Why did you shoot at that car?" asked Simon as he started twisting the steering wheel.

"You remember when I said there were people out there that tried to shoot me the first time I saw them?" explained Clem as untangled the machine gun's shoulder strap. "Then chased us down, and took everything we had?"

"Oh shit… that was them?" asked Simon in a whisper as the RV started moving again.

"Yeah," said Clem as she removed the machine gun's magazine.

"But they just turned and drove away," said Simon. "So—"

"There's more of them," insisted Clem as she pulled a box of bullets out of her backpack.

"How many more?"

"I'm not even sure," rambled Clem, her hands shaking as she tried to load bullets into the magazine. "Enough to drive a few trucks, a school bus, and that damn car we just saw, and that's just what I saw before one of them tried to kill me."

"Jesus. What… what do—"

"Keep driving, before they decide to turn around and come after us." Clem briefly looked up and checked the mirror; nothing for now. She ran out of bullets before the magazine was full and cursed herself for not taking an extra box with her this morning. "We're… we're we driving away from Denver right now, right?"

"Yu-yeah, of course," stuttered Simon. "Why would—"

"That means they came from Denver," realized Clem. "Why the fuck would they be there?"

"Um… to get food, like us?"

"There was tons of food left in the bunker," Clem mumbled to herself. "How many of them are there if they already ate everything there?"

"Hey, talk to me!" begged Simon. "What are we going to do?"

"We just need to get back as fast as we can, and then we need to go."

"Go where?" asked Simon.

"Anywhere in the other direction." Clem loaded the half-full magazine into the machine gun and cocked it.

"What about us needing to get food from Denver?"

"We can't risk it, not anymore," said Clem. "We're… we're just gonna have to hope there's something else out there." Clem sighed to herself as she realized what this meant. "I'm… I'm sorry to ask you this Simon, but—"

"Like I said, I'm not just gonna run off on you, especially now," insisted Simon. "But tell me what we're gonna do about this. What'd you do last time?"

"Hid, mostly," admitted Clem. "And the time before that shot them a lot, then ran away."

"Well, I can hide and run I guess." Clem briefly looked over at Simon, then stuck her leg up on the dashboard. "What are…" Clem pulled up her pant leg, revealing the ankle gun attached to her calf. "How long have you had that?"

"Uh, probably about a year now," recalled Clem as she undid the holster. "You need a gun with more than one bullet," she explained as she set the pistol on the dashboard. "As soon as we stop, be sure to put it on; it might just save your life."

"Yeah, sure…" mumbled a nervous Simon. "But for now, let's just get back to Sarah and Omid."

"Sarah…" Clem pulled her radio out and pressed the talk button. "Sarah? Sarah can you hear me?"

"Don't worry, we'll—"

"I am worried," said Clem. "They… they could be there already."

"Don't talk like that."

"They could!" insisted Clem. "They could have driven past us when we're looking for food and—"

"We'll be there in just a few minutes," insisted Simon as the RV began to accelerate. "And then, all four of us will be miles away, and it'll be okay."

Clem was taken aback by Simon's tone. She knew he had warmed to them, even her, but he suddenly sounded so reassuring, like he actually knew it would be okay, and that wasn't like him, at least from the short time she had known him. It wasn't enough to soothe Clem's frayed nerves, but at least she wasn't alone right now. Even still, she kept calling for Sarah on the radio every few minutes, and only grew more anxious every time Sarah didn't respond. What would these people do if they got their hands on her and Omid?

"Clem are…" Sarah's voice disappeared into static as Clem grabbed her radio.

"Sarah? Sarah!" she called in desperation.

"Clem?" repeated Sarah before her voice cut out again. "I… barely hear you."

"We're on our way back," said Clem. "Pack up everything and get ready to move, okay? Pack up everything as fast as you can and get Omid ready, we're leaving."

There was a long buzz of garbled static before Clem heard Sarah's voice again. "Did you say pack?" More static as Sarah tried to say something. "Why?"

"It's the Vaquero," announced Clem, that word cutting her tongue like a shard of glass. "Did you hear me? It's the Vaquero… they've found us."

Clem waited in great anticipation and felt dread seeping into her veins when she didn't get an answer right away. Eventually, there was a click on the radio and Clem heard a single word from Sarah: "Hurry."

They did hurry, and before long they found themselves arriving on the edge of Granby. Clem's stomach was knotting itself with anticipation as the Brickhouse came into view. She didn't even wait for the RV to come to a complete stop before she burst out and ran right inside. The front was empty, so Clem sprinted into the back only to find a gun aimed right at her head.

"Clem?" asked a startled Sarah as she lowered the revolver. "Are—"

"I'm okay," said Clem as she took a step forward and put her arms around Sarah. "I'm okay." Hugging her, Clem heard a loud whimpering from below. She saw Omid trying not to cry while balled up behind Sarah's legs. Clem motioned him to come closer and the pair knelt down together. They each stretched out an arm and took hold of Omid, comforting him and them.

"What happened?" asked Sarah in a whisper.

"It was them, in that damn racing car again."

"The one that followed us to Laramie? It's here now?"

"The town over. I shot at it and it drove away, but—"

"Hey." Clem looked over her shoulder to find Simon standing in the door, looking to her for guidance.

"We're gonna leave," said Clem as she stood up. "Did you pack?"

"My backpack yeah, as much as I could fit," said Sarah. "There's still the pot and a few other things, and the bikes, plus all the food and—"

"The bullets," finished Clem as she fished a pristine box out from the compartment on the front of Sarah's pack. "If your rifle loaded?"

"Yes, I made sure to double check after you called."

"Good," said Clem as she retrieved a second box of nine millimeters.

"I'll help load everything into the RV," assured Simon. "We'll need it for the long drive ahead."

"Drive to where?"

"Far away from here," he answered as he moved over to the shelf they stored their food.

"Move the RV first," ordered Clem as she intercepted Simon. "Park it out of sight and only use the backdoor here, that way they—"

"Won't see us from the main road if they come this way," finished Simon. "Got it."

Simon left without another word, leaving Clem with Sarah and Omid.

"I can't believe this," spoke Sarah in disbelief. "They followed us all the way out here?"

"I don't know," said Clem as she dropped the bullets into her backpack. "Their car came from the same direction as Denver. Maybe they were just out looking for food or maybe they were looking for us. Either way, it's not safe to stay here."

"God, it felt like we were just starting to get things under control. We had saved up some food and I was going to look at Simon's RV tomorrow to make sure—shit, I had just made a list of things he might need to keep it running. I was going to go to the garage across the street after you got back to get them but—"

"Give me the list and I'll get them," insisted Clem. "I don't want us to stall out on the side of the road after we leave."

"It's just down the street on the right," said Sarah as she fumbled through her pockets and handed over a scrap of paper. "Don't worry if you can't get everything, just grab whatever you can and we'll go."

"I will. I don't want to spend a second here longer than necessary," said Clem as she quickly eyed the list. "Keep your radio on in case something happens, and keep your rifle close in case… something happens."

"I will."

Clem turned to leave when she noticed Omid whimpering in fear on the ground. She knelt down to look him in the eyes. "It'll be okay," she said as calmly as she could. "Just be brave for a little while and it'll be okay." Clem wanted to say more, but forced herself to turn and leave. Coming out of the Brickhouse, she spotted Simon's RV rolling through the parking lot and out of sight, which was Clem's cue to hurry.

Clem sprinted down to the street and barged into the first garage she spotted. She rushed through it as quickly as she could, haphazardly checking the list and grabbing anything that vaguely resembled what Sarah had written down. Her heart was pounding the entire time and part of her just wanted to rush back to the others this instant, but the other part of her remembered those horrible days after they lost the Brave. Not wanting to face the winter again with nothing but a pair of bikes, Clem stopped to double check Sarah's list for anything she missed.

"Sarah, how's it coming?" asked Clem as she zipped up her pack and tossed it over her shoulder.

"We're almost done," said Sarah. "We just need to load the bikes and… oh no."

"Oh no what?" asked Clem. "Sarah, what—" Clem could hear it now, a diesel engine approaching off in the distance. "Shit!"

"Clem, get back here right now!"

"No!"

"What?"

"They don't know where we are," realized Clem. "We stay out of sight and keep quiet, and they'll pass right by us, like in Laramie."

"But—"

"If we try to drive away now they'll chase after us and shoot up the RV, and it'll be like last time… or worse."

"Clem…" There was a pause. "Just be ready if… something happens."

"I will," assured Clem.

"Hey," said Simon's voice. "That garage you're in is taller than the other buildings around here. If you could somehow get on top of it, you could keep watch and tell us what they're doing."

"Got it, just stay where you are for now." Clem put the radio away and could hear the engine more clearly now. It didn't quite sound like the one she remembered, and it still sounded very distant, but it was definitely getting closer. Clem recalled a long ladder she passed gathering supplies and hurried over to one of the rolling doors. Pulling on the chain to raise it, Clem looked through the opening and saw a small alley; hopefully it wasn't visible from the main road.

The ladder was big and it felt heavier than it looked. Dragging it outside was difficult and even moving slowly it made a terrible scratching sound across the concrete. Clem was terrified she would be detected any second as she struggled to haul it outside. It took all her strength just to push it upright against the side of the building and hearing their attackers drawing nearer, Clem realized she probably didn't have much time left to get in position.

She started climbing, with the ladder wobbling badly the further Clem moved up it. Thoughts of falling and breaking her neck invaded her already racing mind with every rung she climbed. Reaching the edge of the roof, Clem moved slowly as she positioned herself in a way to get on top. Standing up on the last rung, the ladder shifted slightly from under her and Clem felt her entire body freeze up as she clung to the edge of the roof for stability. When it became clear she wasn't falling, yet, Clem hastily pulled herself up onto the edge of the roof.

"Clem?" whispered Sarah as Clem got her bearings. "Can you see anything? We're afraid to go near the windows."

"Give me a minute," gasped Clem as she crawled along the roof, trying to control the terror racing through her body. The top of the garage was flat and there was little she could use for cover beyond a single sign attached to the edge of the building. Clem crawled along, trying to make herself as flat as she could as she inched towards cover. Hiding behind the sign, Clem took a deep breath and briefly peaked out towards the source of the noise.

At the end of the main road was a long school bus. It was gray instead of yellow, but Clem recognized that familiar shape. The sides of it were covered in graffiti and the windows covered by chunks of metal that looked like they were crudely welded to the side of the vehicle. She couldn't see much else from this distance and was about to reach for her binoculars when her hand stopped on its own. The sun would catch them and the glint would give away her position; that's probably how they spotted her last time.

"It's them," reported Clem as she watched them slowly rolling down the street, as if they were expecting an attack. "They're in a school bus, and they're coming."

"Oh God," answered Sarah.

"Just stay quiet and out of sight," whispered Clem as she took cover behind the sign. "We'll just wait for them to leave, like in Laramie."

Clem put her radio away and a very carefully sat down. It was nerve racking, just listening to that damn bus slowly roll on by, its occupants probably ready to kill them on a moment's notice. Hands trembling as she took off her bag, Clem retrieved one of the boxes of bullets. She was shaking so bad she could barely finish loading her machine gun. By the time she had finished, she could hear the bus a mere block away and Clem waited anxiously for it to pass her by. It didn't, because it had stopped; why had it stopped?

Clem felt her heart-beating against the side of her chest as she inched over to the edge of the sign. She could still hear it, the idling engine, and it was just sitting there a block away. Clem was terrified the second she poked her head out a bullet would take it off, like they almost did back outside Cheyenne. She forced herself to stick the side of her head just past the edge of the sign. The bus was parked right in front of the Brickhouse, and Clem's stomach dropped as its door slid open.

Clem ducked behind the sign, expecting an entire army to come running towards her any second. But she didn't hear anything, at least not close by. Clem was afraid, but she forced herself out of cover and looked again. She discovered people in thick jackets and carrying guns marching out of the bus one at a time. There were at least five already and the ones near the front of the line were moving right towards the Brickhouse.

"They're coming right to you!" announced a panicked Clem, the radio nearly slipping out of her hands as she did.

"What?" yelped Sarah. "How? How do they know where we are?"

"I… I don't know, I…" That's when Clem saw it, the little bits of slush and dirty snow left on the road that hadn't quite melted carried an impression of the RV's tire tracks, and it led right up to the front of the Brickhouse. "They followed the tire tracks of the RV," realized Clem. "We left them a trail right back to us."

"No!" Clem felt her entire body shaking as she heard Sarah panic. "What do we do!" Her knees shook as the Vaquero all raised their guns and took aim at the front of the Brickhouse. "How many are they?" The five Clem could see were immediately joined by two more who closed in on the front door. "Too many."

"Oh God no!" rambled Sarah. "Clem? Clem! What… what do we do? Even with Simon here, I don't think the two of us can stop them, and there's Omid and…"

Clem felt her hands shaking uncontrollably as the Vaquero closed in on her family, like circling vultures eager to feed.

"Sarah," said Clem.

"Yeah?" she said in a meek voice.

"Tell Simon to get ready to drive away," ordered Clem. "You take Omid, get in the RV with him, and then get out of here with him."

"Wait, what about—"

"I'll distract them."

"Distract them?"

"I love you," said Clem. "Tell Omid I loved him too."

"Clem, don't—" Clem switched off her radio and grabbed her gun with both hands. 'This is the best for everyone' Clem told herself as she knelt down for a more stable shot. Taking aim at the Vaquero nearest the door, Clem took what she knew could be her final breath; she squeezed the trigger and a quick burst of bullets went flying. She didn't see where the shots landed but she did see her target crumple onto the pavement in pain.

Clem took cover behind the sign, trembling in fear. She expected them all to come running over any second, but instead she heard distant shouts of confusion.

"What happened!"

"Get down!"

"I don't see anyone!"

They didn't know where she was. Clem breathed a quick sigh of relief, but then it dawned on her: If they don't know where she is, then she wasn't distracting them from the Brickhouse. If anything, they might rush inside for safety, and so Clem stood up and made herself seen. She watched the now scattered Vaquero running for cover in different directions, clearly clueless to where she had shot at them from.

One heading right to the Brickhouse caught her attention and so Clem hastily aimed at them. Trying to line up the sights as they moved nearly a block away wasn't easy, but she did her best and tapped the trigger when they touched the Brickhouse's door. Clem wasn't sure what she hit, but them hastily recoiling away from the door meant she scared them enough to keep them away from her family. Clem steadied her hands just long enough to line up the sights again, then there was a shot, and it wasn't from her.

"I see him!" yelled someone as Clem dropped to prone to hopefully make herself a harder target. "The garage, across the street!" More shots erupted like bombs across the cold air and Clem found herself screaming as she crawled back towards the sign. She scurried behind it, desperate to escape. She gasped for air through her mask, struggling to breathe when a deafening bang erupted right next to her ear.

Clem screamed and started running as more shots sounded. She could feel it, this was how she was going to die. She kept running and they kept shooting and she didn't even know if they could see her or if they were just firing blind and she just wanted it all to stop. As she scurried back to the ladder, it dawned on Clem she didn't even know if she was successful in rescuing the others. And as she tried to clamber back down, she realized she had nowhere to run; then the ladder fell out from under her.

Clem briefly felt herself free falling before landing on her back in a painful thud. Spark plugs and crescent wrenches jabbed her so hard it felt like knives had just been shoved into her spine. Her body aching as she rolled over, Clem found her knees were shaking so bad it was impossible for her to stand up. Looking down the alley, she spotted a single Vaquero running in from the road. They raised a rifle and Clem closed her eyes as she waited for the end; there was a massive bang.

"Clementine!" Clem opened her eyes and saw Sarah standing in the door of Simon's camper. "Hurry!"

Clem's back ached as she forced herself to her feet, but seeing Sarah, her open arms practically beckoning to her, was enough to get Clem moving again. Clem had never run so fast in her life and it still wasn't fast enough. Every second felt like an hour and each inch a mile, but it just made her go faster and faster until she finally shot past the threshold and crashed into Sarah while gunshots rang out around them. The echo of bullets striking the walls followed by the screeching of tires echoed across the camper as they RV shot forward with incredible speed.

Clem watched as the world just past the door spun around until suddenly the bus came into view. It was charging right at them and once again Clem felt her hands moving on their own volition. She raised her machine gun and aimed at the windshield, only to notice it too was covered in sheets of metal. There were a couple of slits in the middle, presumably for the driver to see, but she didn't think she could hit them, so she aimed at the engine instead.

Clem felt her gun repeatedly trying to kick free of her grip but she wouldn't let it get away. Watching her bullets erupt across the bus's grill, tearing holes in its hood, ripping the engine inside to shreds, Clem found herself smiling at the thought of these bastards stuck out in the cold on the side of the road. The gun clicked as it ran out of ammo and before she could draw her pistol the RV turned suddenly and knocked Clem off her feet.

More gunshots sounded and Clem was terrified to even stand up right now. She looked over to see Sarah on the ground not far from her, terror on her face as she cradled a crying Omid with both arms. Clem crawled over to them while the loud bang of bullets hitting the RV rang in their ears. She placed her body over Omid, reasoning if a bullet did get through that maybe it would only kill her and spare him.

Shortly after that, the gunshots finally stopped, and Clem picked herself up. She headed over to the door and looked outside. She could briefly see the bus far behind them on the road before it disappeared from sight. Whenever it was because of Clem's attack or this RV was simply faster, Clem didn't know, but she was glad to see it gone. She slammed the door shut and grimaced when she saw all the bullet holes in it. She locked it tight, then collapsed onto her knees.

Her adrenaline fading, she found it hard to breathe and had to take off her mask to get some air. Her ears were still ringing from the gunfire and her entire body shaking from shock while the occasional bump in the road sent shivers up her spine. Her hands moved on their own as she took off her backpack. She retrieved the bullets from her pack and started loading them into machine gun's magazine again; the box was nearly empty by the time she had filled it.

"Clem?" asked Sarah as Clem loaded the machine gun. "Are… are you okay?"

Clem switched the gun's safety on, then processed Sarah's question. "I… I think so."

"You think so?" Sarah took one arm off Omid and started pulling at the edges of Clem's jacket with her free hand.

"What are you doing?" asked a confused Clem.

"Look… looking for bullet holes," she stuttered. "You're not hurt or—"

"No," insisted Clem as she gently pushed Sarah away. "What about you and Omid?"

"We're okay, right Omid?" Sarah helped Omid to sit up, revealing his pained and tear-stained face as he whimpered loudly. Clem found herself fearful he could be shot and they just hadn't noticed yet.

"It's okay Omid, it's okay now," assured a trembling Clem as she gently rubbed her hand up and down his back, terrified her fingers would find a gaping bullet wound any second now. "You were so brave," praised Clem as she found no signs of injury. "I'm so proud of you Omid."

"Clem." Clem looked up and was surprised to find Sarah staring her, an almost judgmental look in her eyes. "What… what do you mean earlier when you told me to tell Omid you loved him?"

"Sarah…"

"And then you stopped answering the radio after that."

"I… I had to turn it off," mumbled Clem. "They might have heard—"

"You were planning on killing yourself just now!" accused Sarah.

"No! Of course not."

"Then what?"

Clem sighed. "I just knew that was gonna be the last time I'd get to talk to you."

"You didn't know!" angrily yelled Sarah. "You didn't know, in fact, you were wrong! You're alive right now!"

"You shouldn't have come back for me like that," argued Clem.

"Why not!"

"It was too dangerous, we almost all died because—"

"Because I need you!" Clem was shocked at how badly Sarah was trembling now. Whatever little anger she had left disappeared as she turned away from Clem and collapsed into her hands crying. Clem inched forward, grabbing hold of a still weeping Omid with one hand while moving her other hand to Sarah's shoulder, only for her to slap it away.

"Sarah, what do you want from me?" asked an exhausted Clem.

"Just... just don't tell me stuff like that," cried Sarah. "Don't talk to me like you're never gonna see me again."

"I said that stuff because I didn't think I would get to see you again," wept Clem. "What, you'd rather I not say goodbye?"

"Yes!" cried Sarah. "Don't… don't just give up and say goodbye, like you don't want to live anymore."

"I don't want to die Sarah, it's just—"

"It's just I was supposed to drive away and leave you to die?" asked Sarah, anger returning to voice. "Is that it?"

"We all got lucky this time," argued Clem, anger creeping into her voice now as well. "Next time, it'd be better to just go than risk getting yourself and Omid killed."

"Is it?" challenged a trembling Sarah. "How… how far do you think I would get without you? How do you think Omid would feel if… if he never got to see you again?"

Looking down at Omid, Clem saw him looking back up at her, tears staining his cheeks with more were welling up in his eyes as he sobbed uncontrollably. Clem brought him in close and hugged him tightly; it didn't seem to help much this time.

"If you were gone…" said Sarah in a quiet voice. "I don't think I could go on anymore."

"Please don't say that," begged Clem.

"I really don't think I could…" Sarah started crying again, which caused Omid to cry more, which just made Clem feel like crying too.

"Sarah," said Clem, tears in her eyes. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me, if something ever happens to me—"

"Clem…"

"You'll keep going."

"Clementine, no. I…"

"And I promise you, I won't give up on us all being together." Sarah looked up at Clem suddenly. "No matter what happens after this, no matter how bad it looks from now on, I'll do everything I can to stay alive, for you and Omid."

Sarah wiped her eyes. "You… you mean that?" she asked in disbelief. "Because… I know it's hard, harder for you always having to be the one who goes out and risk your life almost every day, and me yelling at you about how bad I need you isn't helping. I... I don't want to make it worse by having you promise me something you might not be able to do."

"I'm willing to try if you are." Clem held out her left hand and extended her pinky. "Pinky swear we'll both do everything we can to stay together, but won't give up if we can't?"

Sarah looked hesitant, as if the weight of what Clem had told her was holding in her place. She reached out her hand and they locked their pinkies tightly in each other's grasp.

"A pinky swear is forever," said Clem with a smirk.

"Yeah, I know," said Sarah with a weak laugh. "Back then, I just really wanted a friend for once, but now… actually I guess it's kind of the same," realized Sarah as she looked at Clem. "Except now, I just don't want to lose you."

Something about the way Sarah said 'lose you' made Clem blush. They had spent so much time just trying to keep alive lately that Clem nearly forgot how in love with Sarah she really was. Her thoughts started drifting back to their time in Spokeston, and how wonderful it'd be if they found another place with plenty to eat and they could just be together again, even if just for a short while. 'It's worth enduring a bit longer just for that chance,' thought Clem.

Feeling Omid stirring in her arms, Clem looked down to see he was still crying softly. "Don't be sad Omid," she said, finding she didn't even have to force herself to smile right now. "The worst is over, for now at least. We—"

There was a loud bang followed by the entire RV moving out from under them. Clem suddenly grabbed onto Sarah and Omid, clinging to each other in desperation before a final crash sent them tumbling across the camper. Picking herself up, the first thing Clem looked for was Omid. He was safely in Sarah's arms, and Sarah herself appeared frightened but not hurt as she sat up.

"Wuh-what happened?" she asked. "We're… we're not moving."

"Wait here, I'll go find out." Clem found it difficult to stand. The entire floor was tilting downwards and she had to crawl up towards the exit. She picked up her mask and machine gun from the mess and unlocked the door. "Just stay here." Clem put on her mask, threaded her gun's strap over her shoulder, and steeled herself for whatever came next.

Opening the door and looking outside, Clem found the entire RV was facing downhill towards a small creek. The sight made her nervous as she was left wondering what was keeping it from just plunging headfirst into the water right now. She climbed up the hill towards the back of the RV and saw its rear bumper seemingly stuck on a broken piece of railing bordering the road. Clem was baffled and turned her attention to the front of the RV next.

She hadn't seen Simon during all of this and just assumed he was okay. Carefully scaling down the hill towards the cab, counting the bullet holes in the side of the RV as she moved, a horrible image formed in her mind. What if he had been shot during the chaos, bled out, and had turned into a walker just now while driving? Is that why they crashed? The image was stuck in her head as she approached the cab, and Clem couldn't stop herself from raising her gun as she neared the front door.

Looking through the window, she saw Simon in the driver's seat, his head resting on the steering wheel, which had blood dripping off of it. Clem feared the worse as she approached the door. His seat belt was still on, so if he turned he couldn't reach her immediately, but that was of little comfort. Gun drawn as she opened the door, Clem was bothered she couldn't see Simon's face from this angle. Slowly, she forced herself to speak.

"Simon?" No response, so Clem moved in a little closer. "Simon, can you hear me? If you can hear me, say—" There was a loud gasp as Simon jerked his head upward and Clem's finger went right to the trigger.

"Oh god!" he yelled out suddenly, sounding confused as he looked around frantically. Clem breathed a sigh of relief for having not pulled that trigger and lowered her gun. Seeing his face now, she could see a nasty bruise on his head where blood was trickling down his face. "Clementine?" he asked as he looked at her, almost like he wasn't sure.

"Yeah, it's just me," she assured as she took off her mask. "Take it easy." Clem reached for her radio. "Sarah, Simon's hurt. Do you think can find the first aid kit we took back there?"

"Give me a minute to settle Omid," she said. "Is… is Simon okay?"

Clem pressed the button to respond, but then looked over at Simon. He seemed confused for a moment, then undid his seatbelt. "I think I'm okay," he said in a weak voice. "My head just really fucking hurts right now."

"He thinks so," reported Clem. "But as soon as you get a chance get out here."

"All right, be careful, both of you."

"We will." Clem put her radio away just as Simon freed himself from his seatbelt. He awkwardly clambered out of the driver's seat. Stepping out, he nearly fell over from the uneven ground and Clem grabbed onto his arm to help keep him upright.

"Easy," instructed Clem. "How do you feel?"

"Dizzy," he mumbled. "Real dizzy."

"You probably a got a concussion, so just sit down and rest."

"No, you're not supposed to sleep when—"

"Yeah, that's not true, rest helps when you have a concussion."

"How do you know?"

"That's what Sarah's dad told me when I had one once."

"And what, was he a doctor?" quipped Simon.

"Yeah, actually, he was." Simon just stared at Clem in response. "Just sit down, it'll help you feel better."

"I feel better if I know where we are and what happened," insisted Simon as he looked around.

"You don't know where we are?"

"Not exactly. We were just crossing through Hot Springs, the town not the springs, in fact…" Simon looked out past the creek and up at the hillside off in the distance. "I think that's actually where they are in fact."

"Okay, so we know where are; why did we crash?"

"Give me a second," insisted Simon as he rubbed his head, smearing blood across it. "I was driving along and suddenly… the wheel just jerked out from under me and…"

Simon went quiet for a second, and Clem could hear why; a walker. That kind of groaning could rarely be made by much else and it sounded close, yet strangely muffled. Clem raised her gun as Simon grabbed his rifle from the cab of his RV. They scanned the immediate area for any signs of a walker but found nothing. Listening more closely, the walker sounded like it was coming from the other side of the RV, so the two proceeded carefully around the front.

"Fuck me…"

It didn't take them long to discover the source of the noise, a walker wrapped around the undercarriage near the passenger side door. Clem could only see the walker's head bobbing about slightly from where she was standing. Even then, the mask it was wearing made it easy to identify as one of the Vaquero. Simon must have run him over when he came into the alley, and what was left him turned while somehow clinging to the bottom of the RV.

Inching down the hill to get a better look, Clem could see the walker's legs were gone and all that was left were bloody stumps. He wasn't very big as most of his torso fit in a gap in-between a couple of pieces of metal, and the parts that didn't had been torn wide open. His right arm was missing and what was left of it had become twisted around the axle right near the wheel. It was a grotesque sight, as if a tube of meat had become entwined around the roller of a vacuum cleaner, clogging it with a bloody display of bone and flesh twisted into a disgusting shape.

Clem surmised the Vaquero must have died after getting hit by Simon and as a walker, probably tried to crawl towards the engine and got stuck. Its legs were ripped off from being dragged across the road, and eventually it must have flung its arm into the axle in a way that derailed the entire RV in the process. Clem couldn't help thinking it felt like that even in death, the Vaquero were determined to kill them.

While its head just kind of twisted back and forth on its mangled torso, Clem realized this did at least give her a good look at one her attackers, even if it was an undead one. What remained of their jacket looked like it was made with a kind of slick leather material that appeared relatively undamaged despite having been twisted with the rest of the body. Clem could see a few tools attached to their belt and a small canteen, but surprisingly no sign of a holster or a pistol.

The mask appeared to be one hard piece covered in smaller segments bolted to it that made it thicker. It covered the entire head and there were no visible air filters that would suggest it functioned as a gas mask. In fact, there was only a single flat segment screwed to the front of the mask where the indents for the mouth and nose should be. If not for the lenses that made up the eyes, it would be hard to tell this was even meant to go on your head just from looking at it. Lastly, there were the colors, blue and gold, sprayed painted across each side of the mask.

"What the fuck is these people's deal?" asked Simon, sounding disturbed as he watched the undead Vaquero twitch its head back and forth.

"I have no idea," admitted Clem.

"When I was a kid, I used to think my uncle's stories about demons and witches were scary." Simon raised his rifle. "But somewhere between my mom going to jail and my dad being murdered, I started thinking people were scarier than any monster could ever be." He planted the barrel right on the undead Vaquero's head. "Now, between the chindi and this, I just want to know why there's so much fucking evil in this world."

The bullet pierced the eyepiece and killed the walker. There was a brief silence after that shot where Clem found herself waiting for the next inevitable disaster. Instead, she heard some static coming from her radio.

"Clem?" called Sarah. "I just heard a gunshot."

"It was us, we killed a walker," said Clem as Simon tossed his empty rifle aside. "We're okay." Looking up at the RV, covered in bullet holes and its back fender hooked on a broken guard railing that may have been the only thing keeping it from plunging into the river, Clem sighed. "But I don't think we're driving anywhere else today."

Sarah tended to Simon's injury, then to Omid while Simon went back to help Clem clear out the RV a few items at a time. Every time Clem stepped back into the camper she was afraid the RV would roll downhill with her in it, but for once luck seemed to be on her side. By the time Clem and Simon dragged the bikes uphill and onto the road, Sarah had laid out everything they owned: several cans of food, a few jugs of water, a single first aid kit, a couple of quality fishing rods and tackle boxes, Simon's bow and its arrows, Clem's machine gun, Sarah's rifle, their three overstuffed backpacks, and now two bikes between the four of them.

"You're sure you're okay?" asked Sarah as she approached Simon and examined the bandage she had tied around his head.

"Yeah, I'll live," he said as he looked over to Omid, who was sitting on the ground quietly. "What about him? The crash didn't hurt Omid, did it?"

"I don't think so. I think it just… scared him, a lot, along with everything else." Sarah knelt down beside Omid. "Hey there, you want another hug?" Omid made little response to Sarah hugging him, but he didn't resist it either.

"So now what?" asked Simon as he sat down.

"We could go back to hot springs and stay the night," suggested Clem.

"Then what?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "But if we get somewhere out of sight and rest for a bit, maybe we can figure something out."

"That makes sense," reasoned Simon. "Let's—" He was cut off by a bellowing horn in the distance.

"No way…"

"That's them, isn't it!" The horn sounded again, as if to answer Sarah's question.

"That doesn't sound like a school bus. It… must be that semi-truck I saw in Cheyenne," said Clem as the horn sounded a third time, carrying with it a chill in the air colder than any Clem ever felt before; she was shivering in terror. "The… the trailer on it was bigger than that bus. If… if there's more of them in there then—"

"Oh God," mumbled Sarah as she knelt down to comfort a whimpering Omid. "They're gonna find us again, aren't they?"

Clem looked down at the road and saw the tire tracks they had left behind. They were far and scattered across bits of snow that still clung to the road, but there were just enough marks on the pavement that if one was determined enough, they could follow them. And after what happened, Clem imagined the Vaquero were more determined than ever.

"Yeah," she finally answered before looking over at the bikes. "We need to hurry!"

The pair rolled the bikes over to where they had laid out their equipment. The horn hadn't sounded again and they couldn't hear an engine yet, but Clem wasn't going to wait around to have a third brush with the Vaquero today. Trying to stuff their backpacks with everything they needed, Clem groaned as she tossed out all the automotive supplies she had just collected; there were of no use now. As she started to zip up her pack, she noticed Simon hadn't moved at all. He was just sitting on the pavement, his back to the broken railing and a forlorn look on his face.

"Simon, come on!"

"Why?" he asked in a weak voice as he looked up at Clem. "There's no way I'm gonna be able to outrun them." Clem looked over at the two bikes and cursed herself for not foreseeing this possibility. She'd already had lost one RV to these people, and yet she never thought to tell Simon to get a bike for himself. Seeing him now, sitting there, so devoid of hope he couldn't even stand up, Clem knew what she had to do.

"Take it," offered Clem as she rolled the bike up to Simon. "You go with Sarah and I'll stay—"

"What, you just promised me Clem!" declared Sarah.

"And I'm gonna keep my promise; I'm gonna do everything I can to get away from these bastards." Clem looked over at Simon suddenly. "But I owe you Simon, for what I did to you. So, take my bike and—"

"If you want to make it up to me for what happened earlier, then go back to my people… and tell my uncle I'm sorry."

"Your uncle?" repeated Clem. "But… you said he was gone, along with your people."

"Yeah, well… probably would have been more accurate to say I'm gone." Simon took a deep breath. "We were all getting ready to dig in for the rest of the winter when… I took off."

"Who's we?" asked Sarah.

"The Navajo Nation, what's left of it anyway," said Simon. "We met someone from Ute tribe."

"Wait, the ones from the brochure at the hot springs?"

"Their ancestors living on a reservation in Utah," explained Simon. "They had met with some people, some engineers or something like that out of what's left of Salt Lake City. They said they might be able to get a dam up and running."

"A dam, where?"

Simon took a breath. "Vernal, Utah," he said slowly. "It's south of the Flaming Gorge, which is where the dam is. These people felt confident they could get it working again, and between the Ute and what we had left in the Navajo Nation, we figured we could gather enough food to make it through winter, then set up news farms this spring. They had it all mapped out to try to make it work… and that's when I left."

"Why?"

"I… I heard my uncle talking with some of the others one night, talking about what to do… about me." Simon rubbed his aching head. "My uncle kept telling them we needed to find more insulin, and they kept saying there wasn't any left to find. He tried to argue there had to be more in the big cities, but the people from Salt Lake said it'd be impossible to get to it, and the others said they couldn't justify the risk for just one person but… they'd try to keep me comfortable… and my uncle just said okay."

"Simon…"

"I couldn't believe it, couldn't believe he'd just agree with them like that to let me die!" said Simon as he clenched his fists. "So… I stole his RV."

"This one?" said Clem as she looked over at the wreck hanging off the guardrail.

"Yeah… you were trying to steal from a thief that day," admitted Simon in a shameful tone. "And, when you held me up, I was thinking, 'I deserve this, for leaving them all behind and stealing one of the only RV's they had left instead of one of the many crappy rez cars… all because I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of dying," croaked Simon. "I just kept telling myself they were lying, that they were just giving up on me because they didn't care, and that there had to be more insulin out there they could get and they just didn't want to bother looking for it… but there wasn't, not without some magic tricks to get past all the chindi choking the big cities, and they didn't know about those."

Simon looked up at Clem suddenly. "You, Sarah and Omid go to Vernal and teach them everything you know about getting past the chindi."

"Simon no," begged Clem. "We'll figure something out."

"And you find my uncle—Hank Manuelito," continued Simon. "You tell him… you tell him Simon said he was sorry."

"There's gotta be a bike someone back in the town over there," said Clem as she pointed to a building just visible on the horizon. "We have time, we'll—"

"Lastly, remember this word; yá'át'ééh," said Simon, ignoring Clem. "It's how you say hello in Navajo, and you knowing that will go a long way to proving I sent you."

"We won't have to prove it if you just come with us!" declared Clem.

"How?" asked Simon as he stood up suddenly. "The RV's not going anywhere anytime soon and it's stupid for all three of us to go back the way we came and risk running into those fuckers just on the off-chance there's a bike somewhere in town that isn't a busted mess rusting in the back of someone's garage!"

Clem tried and failed to think of a retort, then looked over to Sarah for a response. She was just sitting there, a shameful look on her face as she held onto Omid with both hands.

"Besides, you two got him to take care of," said Simon as he looked down at a trembling Omid. "I hate the fuckers who took my parents away from me; I'm not putting him through that."

"This is all my fault," realized Clem. "If I hadn't robbed you then—"

"I'd probably have died looking for insulin by now," dismissed Simon. "If anything, this is my fault."

"Why? Because you stole that RV?" asked Clem. "We'd be dead if you hadn't."

"Because I didn't tell you about Vernal before now," argued Simon.

"Because you didn't trust me after what I did to you."

"Because I didn't want to go back after what I did. I kept thinking I'd be dead soon and it wouldn't matter." Simon lowered his head shame. "If I weren't such a coward, we'd all be there right now and we never would have run into these assholes." Simon sighed. "My uncle always warned me it was a war zone out here, and I always just thought he was exaggerating so I wouldn't complain about working on a damn farm… he'd been there every day for me since my mom was put away, every day since I lost my dad, every day since the whole damn world ended… and I still didn't believe him."

The group sat there in silence as Simon started crying into his hands. Clem didn't know what to say, and neither did Sarah, but Omid started moving towards him. He walked right up to Simon and put his arms around Simon's legs, hugging him. Simon stopped crying and looked down to see Omid looking back up at him with tears in his own eyes.

"Hey," he said as he looked at Omid. "Don't... don't worry about me, okay?" mumbled Simon as he dried his eyes. "It'll be—"

They all heard it, the sound of an approaching diesel engine. It was far away but it was moving, and almost certainly towards them. It sent a chill down Clem's spine and Sarah and Simon both looked down the road in terror, as if they expected to see the Vaquero charging forward at any second. Even Omid was trembling, not from the cold but fright as has hurried over to Sarah for safety.

"Go already, before it's too late!" Simon's words sent Sarah moving, but Clem couldn't make herself leave, she just kept staring at Simon.

"Simon…"

"I've made up my mind," he insisted. "Even if I could go I wouldn't. This road leads right to Vernal."

"Which road?"

Simon pointed behind Clem and she turned around to see a road sign that read 'West - 40'. "Saw that right before we got jerked off the road. The ones I saw leaving Vernal said east but it was the same sign for the same highway: Highway Forty. If there's even a chance these fuckers will follow this road because they're following us, then I gotta try to stop them. It's the least I can do for… for the people who were just trying to take care of me."

Clem just stared at Simon as he stood there, slumped over in defeat, already accepting of his death.

"Clem!" Clem looked over to see Sarah already on her bike, Omid strapped into the basket.

"It's okay," said Simon as he pulled the small pistol Clem gave him from his ankle holster. "Maybe I can slow them down with this, give you three enough time to get away."

Clem stood there, dumbfounded, then took the machine gun off her back.

"What are you doing?" asked Simon.

"You can slow them down better with this," said Clem as she thrust the gun into his hands. "Maybe even stop them."

"No, you'll need—"

"We need to move fast and this thing is heavy," insisted Clem as she took off her backpack. "Like these." Clem set the box of bullets next to Simon's pack and then moved in close to him as he pocketed his pistol. "Remove the magazine like this." Clem leaned in and guided Simon's hand to a metal tab on the gun. She helped him pushed it forward, causing the magazine to slide out. "To load it you just put it back in and pull on this like—"

Simon cocked the gun before grabbing hold of it with both hands. "Like that?"

"Yeah."

"Clem!"

"I'll be right there." Clem turned back to Simon. "If you're gonna do this, then I'd find a good place to hide. The might just go past you and—"

"I can't slow them down by hiding."

"Then… then shoot at them from the top of the hill over there." Clem pointed to the steep hill bordering the other side of the road. "You'll have a better shot of them from up high, they won't be able to drive up there, and you can use the trees for cover," suggested Clem. "They have guns too, and they sounded like big ones, and I know at least one of them is a really good shot. If you see something glinting it's a rifle scope, and you might have a second to get out of the way."

"Then I'll make sure they don't see me coming," said Simon as he stepped forward, his voice suddenly brimming with confidence.

"It takes forever to reload that thing, you gotta feed one bullet at a time into the magazine."

"I'll make it work," said Simon as he pocketed the box of bullets.

"There's a switch on the side. You turn it to turn off the safety, click it again to go full-auto." Simon located the switched and flicked it to auto. "Just tap the trigger to fire a few bullets. If you hold it down you'll run out in less than a second. There's thirty in there but it shoots fast."

"I'll make them count."

"Clem!" Clem looked over to see Sarah grabbing her arm. "We gotta—" Sarah suddenly gasped for breath, her face wracked with guilt as she looked at Simon. "I… I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay," he assured as he tossed his bow over his shoulder and hooked the quiver to his belt. "I spent a lot of my life feeling helpless, like there's nothing I can do about things, but not today." Putting on his backpack and picking up his fishing rod, Clem thought Simon looked almost like a different person now. There was a determination in his eyes she hadn't seen in him before, a determination she hadn't felt herself in a long time. "You remember how to say hi in Navajo?"

"Um…" mumbled Clem as she tried to recall what he said. "Yah-ought-eh?"

"Close enough," said Simon with a smirk. "With some luck, I'll lead them away from this highway, find a bike somewhere, and catch up with you later, and then I could do the talking for us." He sounded like he believed that, and there was a little smile on his lips as he gripped the machine gun with both hands, then they all heard that horrible bellowing truck horn again, followed by a rapidly approaching engine.

"Go!" Clem stood there stunned for a moment, then she felt Sarah pulling her back over to her bike. Mounting it, Clem looked back to see Simon tossing the machine gun over his shoulder. He hurried over to the hill Clem mentioned and looked up at it for a second before carefully scaling up the steep surface with surprising speed. She didn't want to leave him, but the weight of the promise she made Sarah forced her feet to start moving anyway.

Everything after that just seemed to happen on autopilot. Clem pedaled as fast as she could, trying to keep up with Sarah's surprisingly brisk pace. The RV, Simon, everything disappeared into the horizon, and they were once again biking across the unforgiving wilderness. There were jagged hills surrounding them now instead of empty fields, but they were cold and desolate just the same, and all the time they moved they kept hearing that horrible engine far behind them.

Clem had no idea how long they would have to pedal until they could escape that awful sound. Her legs were sore, her heart pounded, her lungs ached for air, and still that noise of the approaching engine could be heard on the breath of the wind as it stung her skin. It must have been miles before it finally faded from earshot, and probably a half-mile later before Clem finally noticed.

Slowing down, desperate to catch her breath, Clem thought it was almost strange hearing silence again. It was like the world itself had gone quiet, and that's when the gunshots started. They were distant, very distant, but there were a lot of them. Clem spun her bike around to face the direction the noise was coming from. She couldn't see anything past the tall hills that blotted out the horizon, but even amongst the distant gunfire she could recognize one sound; it was her machine gun.

"It's Simon!" concluded Clem just before she heard a chorus of louder non-automatic guns. "We… we gotta go back!"

"What, no!" said Sarah as she pulled up to next to Clem.

"We shouldn't have left," yelled Clem as more gunshots sounded.

"He told us to go!"

"I told you both to go and you came back for me!" reminded Clem as more gunshots sounded. "We should have stayed anyway! We could have fought them off together! We could…"

Clem suddenly realized the gunshots had stopped, and once again there was only silence. She stood there, despondent and ready to collapse as whatever little hope she had been nursing a moment ago evaporated.

"Come on Clem," urged Sarah in a quiet voice. "We—"

A sudden burst of automatic fire broke the silence, immediately followed by a renewed chorus of even louder gunshots. "There might still be time to help him!"

"Clem, we'll never make it back in time!"

"We gotta try!"

"We gotta try to make it Vernal!" dictated Sarah as rode her bike in front of Clem's. "It's what he wanted."

Clem groaned as she recalled Simon's own words. She knew he wanted them to get to his people to help them, but she also knew he didn't want to die either. It tore at her very being, resigning him to fight her enemies alone. Clem lamented not thinking to give him one of their radios so they could find each other again. She cursed herself for forgetting about the grenade in the bottom of her backpack and how it could have helped him. Mostly, she just hated herself for leaving him, despite what he told her.

Looking up from the pavement, Clem's eyes fell on Omid. Even over the distant gunfire, she could hear Omid whimpering. He held his hands tightly over his ears, his eyes were scrunched shut, and all the while he was sniveling and crying to himself. Clem moved over to the basket mounted on the front of Sarah's bike, which looked barely big enough to hold him anymore. He looked so miserable that Clem felt like just breaking down and crying herself, but then she noticed Simon's keychain still hanging from Omid's zipper.

"It'll be okay," whispered Clem into Omid's ear just before another volley of gunfire erupted in the distance. "It's gonna be okay," she said as she pedaled away while they still could. "Simon is gonna be okay. He had a lot of places to hide, and we lost them in the woods before," Clem told herself. "And if we make it to Vernal first, we'll come back with his people and get him," she said as she forced herself to keep pedaling. "And after that, we'll make it work somehow," said Clem. "Somehow, it's gonna be okay."