Well, here we are again, it's another two pov chapter. I think I rewrote this seven times, and I still feel like its not good enough. Eh, what the hell, I'll upload it anyways.
Ellie tapped her fingers impatiently against the shelf she was crouching behind, the anticipation was killing her. Kenny looked like he was at the end of his rope, and yet every time it seemed like the stalker would sink its teeth into him, he managed to divert the attack. The stubborn bastard simply refused to give in. The temptation to go forth and smash his head in herself was looking more and more appealing despite all the repercussion that would bring.
She threw a glance in Mike's direction. During the time she'd been watching Kenny, Mike had managed to gain the upper hand. The big stalkers upper right arm was dangling uselessly at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. The stalker reached out its still functional arm in a fresh attempt to grab its intended meal. Mike avoided the flailing limb and swung his hammer at the side of the stalkers face. There was an audible crack as something in the skull broke and sent it stumbling back.
Ellie snapped her attention back to Kenny and found that nothing had changed. It wouldn't be long before Mike killed his stalker and be free to help Kenny. The previously rapid beating of her heart became a pounding against her ribcage and the speed of her tapping fingers increased to the pattering of rain in a storm.
"Come on, come on."
Ellie's focus on the fight was interrupted when the front door of the store flew open and hit the wall with a crash. The sound of running feet thundered through the store, getting louder with every second, only briefly interrupted by the runner stumbling in their steps.
"The Fuck! Nails?!"
Recognizing the voice, Ellie instinctively drew back to a position behind another shelf so she would not be seen, and not a moment too soon. Crossbow at the ready, Troy rushed past her previous hiding spot and came to a halt. There was hardly a moment of hesitation between him seeing the combatants and his crossbow firing.
There was a sharp snapping sound as the bolt was sent flying, a thud and a final growl left the stalker Ellie had been silently sheering on. Ellie felt her hope turn to dust as she heard the unharmed Kenny pushing the carcass of himself with a disgusted grunt. There was a second thud a few seconds later as the stalker that had been attacking Mike joined its fellow on the floor.
"So close," Ellie thought sourly. "Why the fuck did that asshole have to show up now."
With a heavy heart, Ellie slowly and quietly retreated back the way she had come. Nothing good could come of them seeing that she had been there and not tried to help. Rounding a corner, Ellie sat down with her back against the wall just as Troy started speaking.
"Okey, which one of you assholes want to tell me how the fuck this shitshow happened?"
There was a short pause before Mike's voice answered. "We were hammering up one of the boards when the one over the window fell off. Before we could replace it, they broke through."
There was another silent pause before Troy asked, "where's the kid?"
"I though she ran to fetch you," Mike said, sounding worried.
"Well, she fucking didn't."
"Shit," she heard Kenny curse followed by footsteps coming her way. "ELLIE!"
"Guess that's my que. I'm here!" Standing up on wobbly legs and hefting the sledgehammer over her shoulder; Ellie stepped out from behind the corner.
"Good god," Mike murmured when he saw her.
"You okey kid?" Kenny asked, his voice full of concern that was also mirrored on his face.
"I'm fine," she answered tersely, trying to not look at him.
"You sure?" Mike nodded at her clothes.
It was only then when she looked down at herself that Ellie remembered the blood staining her cloth. The other's clothes had been spattered from the fight, but it was no way near as bad as hers was. Her right leg was covered in gore from her shoe to her knee and her left wasn't much better. Her hands, shirt and jacket were also speckled with dark blood, there were probably some on her face and in her hair as well. Taking in her own appearance, she had to admit that Mike's question was a valid one, she must look like something out of a slasher movie.
"It's not mine," she answered.
Her word seemed to calm Mike. Though she tried not to, Kenny was now standing to close to Mike for her not to see the relief he showed. Ellie looked away. She didn't want to see that expression on his face, it made her feel… bad, even though she had no reason to.
"He killed Pete. It's his fault. He's a stupid fool who got Pete and Walter killed." Her hateful thoughts burned the guilt away and her grip tightened on the handle.
"Drop it," Troy sharp voice cut through her thought.
"What?" She asked.
"Drop the fucking hammer! I won't tell you again!" He gestured with his crossbow towards the floor. With an acid glare, Ellie unslung and dropped her weapon headfirst and it hit the floor with a heavy thud.
"You bite?" Troy asked.
"I told you I'm fine," Ellie said heatedly.
"Show me."
Holding back a growl of irritation, Ellie rolled up her sleeves, pulled down at the neck lining of her hoodie and slowly tilted her neck from left to right. Troy staired at her for a long time, then gestured at her legs, specifically the one she had used to crush the stalkers skull.
"You want to see my feets to?" Ellie asked once she had pulled up her pantlegs so he could see her shins.
"Don't try my patience, or you'll taste the back of my hand. You get back to Bonnie right fucking now, I'm sure she got some other shit for you to do." He turned to Kenny and Mike. "And you two plug that hole. Can't believe I have to sit down her and babysit you assholes. Can't do a simple fucking patch job without me cracking the whip."
As Troy planted his ass on a table and the men set about their job, Ellie headed for the door. She threw them one last hateful glare that none of them saw before she left. Other than the hammering from the men and the chirping of birds it was quiet outside. No surprise really, they had probably killed all the stalkers that had been pounding on the fence.
"And they got the most of them. It should have been enough; he should have died. If Troy hadn't showed up, he would have… most likely been saved by Mike."
"Fuck!"
She sniffed and with a heavy heart started walking. The last bit of adrenalin that had powered her up to that point went out of her and the sound of her dragging feet joined the hammering and the bird song. Every muscle in her body felt like lead and her stomach hurt. She wasn't entirely sure how long it had been since she last ate, it was hard to keep track of time when you ate your last meal stuck in a windowless truck. Ellie wanted nothing more than to take a bite to eat, lie down and go to sleep.
When she reached the comic store, she stopped, her legs folding, and she sank to her knees. She leaned her forehead against the window. The glass was welcomingly cool to the touch. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She did not know how long she sat there, several minutes at least. When she opened her eyes again, she found Savage Starlight determined gaze staring back at her from the other side of the glass. She was down on one knee, a laser gun in her hands. Blood was running down the side of her face from a head wound, but she did not seem to care. Her expression said in no uncertain terms that no matter the odds she would endure, she would fight and find a way to win.
"Endure and survive," Ellie murmured. "Endure and survive." With effort she pushed herself up – leaving a smeared bloody handprint behind – and continued her slow walk back to the main building. "Endure and survive."
This was just a setback. It might take time, but like Starlight she would find a way.
"-just a kid. I think you're pushing her too hard. Over." Bonnie's voice was the first thing she heard when she pulled open the door. The woman had her back turned and was talking into her walkie-talkie.
"She can handle it." Carver's voice responded, sounding annoyed. "When Ellie gets back you send her to me, got it? Over."
"Carver wanted to see me! Why? Did he realized that I tried to shift more blame on Reggie?"
The thought twisted her insides into knots and a cold shiver ran up her spine, making her instantly wide awake. Although she loathed to admit it – even to herself – she feared Carver almost as much as she hated him. He had already proven on more than one occasion just how intelligent and ruthless he was. Not for the first time she wished she had shot him when she had the chance.
"Yes Bill, over and out," she let out a sigh once the walkie talkie crackled and went silence. The sound of the door closing made her turn. "Oh, your ba-oh my god! Ellie what happened? Are you hurt?"
Bonnie closed the distance and started looking her over. When Ellie didn't answer immediately, she gave her a gentle shake and repeated her question.
"N-no," Ellie said numbly.
"What happened?"
"Stalkers broke though the fortifications. We took care of them."
"What about the other? Mike and Kenny?"
"Fine, no one got bit," she answered, not quite sure she managed to hide her disappointment.
"Thank god," Bonnie sighed with relief. "Come on, we need to get you cleaned up."
She took Ellie by the arm and pulled her away in the direction of one of the backrooms. Taken by surprise, Ellie stumbled and blinked in confusion, unsure if she had heard her right. Realizing she had, her heart doubled its pace. Carver had said that Bonnie should send her to him immediately, if Ellie didn't comply, he would get angry.
"Incompetence, weakness, it puts us all at risk, and it won't be tolerated. Keep that in mind the next time you're asked to do something."
She would without a doubt be punished, or worse…
"Wait! Carver said to go to his office!"
Ellie pulled feeble against Bonnie grip. Although she was too weak to break it, it did have the desired effect of stopping the older woman in her tracks.
"Oh, you heard that," Bonnie said with slight surprise. "Well, we need to have you cleaned up first. Can't have you going to Bill looking like this."
"He'll be angry if I'm late." Ellie said, unable to stop a note of fear from slipping into her voice.
"Don't worry, I'll talk to him, okey? You're not gonna get in trouble." Bonnie pulled her walkie-talkie from her hip. "Bill, the expansion project got attacked, no casualties, but Ellie got covered in lurker gore. I'm having her cleaned up. Over."
Ellie looked towards Carver's office and saw him standing with his back to the window, probably talking to someone out of view. He moved his arm and the next second his gravelly voice came from the walkie-talkie.
"Fine but be quick about it. Over and out."
"See, everything's fine." Bonnie gave her a warm smile. "Nothing to worry about."
"If that only were the case."
Ellie received more than a few looks from the residents of Howe's – some even stopped working just to gawk at her – on the way to wherever the hell Bonnie was leading her. They ranged from concern, fear, mild interest to loathing. Ellie hardly paid any attention to them or the whispered conversations they had with their neighbor, not that she could hear much anyways. No, her focus was on the red backroom door Bonnie was leading her to and what could be behind it.
Bonnie pushed open the door and guided Ellie into what could only be the camps laundry room. It consisted of three tables and several clothes lines that filled most of the room with two washing machines rumbled noisily away in the corner. Almost every table was covered with dirty clothes and one wash tub on each.
As they entered, two or three of the seven people by the tables kept working without so much as a glance but the rest looked up to see who had entered. One of them that did – a middle-aged woman with short brown hair – greeted Bonnie with a nod and stared at Ellie. Bonnie led Ellie towards her.
"What's happened?" the woman asked.
"A lurker breach at the expansion. Don't worry, no one got bit or killed. Do we have any clean clothes in the back for Ellie?" She nodded in the direction of a door on the opposite side of the room from where they had entered.
The woman gave Ellie a once over before she answered. "Should have some spare sets in her size. I'll check, but we better wash her up first."
The woman pulled a piece of cloth from her pocket and dipped it in a bucket of water and without asking for permission started rubbing Ellie's face. Ellie grimace but kept her silence as the woman scrubbed her skin raw with the wet cloth, at least until it reached her forehead. The searing pain made Ellie flinch and let out a gasp that was instantly followed by a torrent of fowl curses that made both women jump.
"Sorry," the woman said, and although she didn't sound it, she at least was gentler around the wound afterwards.
With her face done – and sore as hell – they had her wash her hands and hair in the bucket. Once she was clean – or at least cleaner than she had been – Bonnie lead Ellie in the direction of another door by the washing machines whiles the woman went to find her spare clothes. Ellie was so tired she hardly even noticed the stares she was getting, but she did hear them talking as she walked past. The washers were making too much noise to make whispering possible.
"You heard what she said, there was another breach. I'm telling you that project ain't worth risking people over," a woman said.
"We need the space," another female voice responded. "Besides, what are you complaining about? It's them out there, not us."
"Damn right," a deep male voice that sounded elderly said. "Don't dare feel sorry for them. They had it coming after what they did."
"I'm not arguing against them being punished, but there are other ways to do it," the first woman retorted and sighed. "And whether you agree with me on that or not, Bill shouldn't have sent that girl out there. She's just a kid and had nothing to do with what Carlos and the others did."
"She was with them when Bill found them," the second woman pointed out.
"She still had nothing to do with their desertion! She was part of another group that had taken them in," the first woman countered. "And I doubt they knew what they had done."
"I heard the same, she was dragged into their mess. Bill should have kicked Luke out the moment he started talking shit," the man snarled. "He's the root cause of all this, him and Pete."
"Yeah," the first woman agreed. "Heard a couple of people from the girl's group were killed because Pete and the others wouldn't surrender at first, one was a little girl even younger than my son."
"Fucking shit stains!" the second woman snarled.
"God have mercy on her soul," The man said somberly.
The door closed behind Ellie before she could hear anymore, not that she wanted to. They clearly didn't know what the fuck they were talking about. Like that crap about Clem getting killed, where had they got that shit from? Carver of course. Blind fuckers probably believe everything he told them.
She and Bonnie waited in the small L shaped room for about five minutes in silence until the other woman came in with a pile of clothes and two pairs of shoes. She handed them to Ellie and directed her behind the corner where she could try them on before leaving. It took over twenty minutes and several tries before she found a set relatively whole that fitted her. She ended up with new underwear – thank heavens – a set of grey socks, faded blue jeans, a black shirt that was turning gray, a red lumber jacket with a brown hood and a pair of red and white sneakers almost identical to her old pair.
"Well look at you," Bonnie said after Ellie came out from behind the corner and was examining herself in a tall mirror. "Them clothes looks mighty fine on you. How are they? Fits like a glove?"
"There okey," Ellie answered, shoving the ugly pink gloves into her pocket. In truth, they were comfier than her old clothes, but maybe not as warm.
"Well, if your satisfied then let's get you to Bill."
"Right," Ellie said, and she felt like a stone had settled in her stomach.
After a brief interaction – in which Ellie thanked the woman that gave her the clothes – the two left the laundry room. In what felt like no time at all, Ellie found herself at the top of the stairs outside Carver's office.
"Well, here we are. I'll see you later," Bonnie said. She squeezed Ellie's shoulders and gave her a reassuring smile. "Just try to relax, everything is gonna be fine."
And with that said she left. Ellie stared after her until she was out of sight before facing the door. She stood there for what felt like minutes, trying to steel her nerves and hide the discomfort the knot in her stomach gave her. She needed to be extra careful and watch her tongue or she might lose it… or worse. Slowly she raised a slightly shaking hand and knocked three times.
"Come in."
Ellie entered and found Carver seated on an ornate chair behind a desk that looked like it belonged to a stereotypical rich asshole manager from a movie. Just by the sight of it, Ellie concluded that the previous owner must have been a pompous shit, there was even a nameplate on the damn thing that said manager. Not that Carver was in any way an improvement. For some reason Ellie couldn't fathom Carver had a lit candle on his desk, which was completely unnecessary since the lighting from the window in the ceiling and lamps were perfectly fine.
"Close the door and have a seat," Carver said, gesturing at one of the chairs in front of the desk. His tone was calm and friendly like when she had first meet him, but his words were unmistakably an order.
The door emitted a low creak as it swung shut. The sound had a note of ominous finality to it which made the hair on Ellie's neck stand on end. She slowly walked towards the proffered chair, but stooped dead in her tracks when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention.
"Alvin?!"
Alvin sat handcuffed to a chair in the corner. His face was bruised, bloody and covered with half healed cuts. His head was slumped in a very uncomfortable position that would undoubtedly cause him sever neck pain. With his eyes closed it would be easy to mistake him for dead, the only signs of life he showed was the slow rising and falling of his chest.
"Alvin."
"He passed out hours ago. He can't hear anything," Carver said dismissively and gestured for her to sit down.
Ellie gave Alvin one last worried glance before she did as ordered.
"Don't waste your concern on him, worry about yourself instead." He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "Now, I expect you to tell me the truth when I'm talking to you. That way you won't give me a reason to put you in that chair." He nodded towards the corner. "Troy told me you were in quite a fight out there. Said you got cut off from the others and had to kill a couple of lurkers by yourself."
Ellie nodded.
"How many?"
Was this a test? Troy had surely told him the exact number.
"Three."
"Not bad, considering the circumstances you were in."
Carver gave her a smile which made Ellie feel very uncomfortable. He looked and sounded… proud, like a parent watching their child hit a homerun. Ellie had always loved being praised by the adults around her, it always made her feel warm inside, like she was wanted by someone. Carver's words in contrast didn't stir any warm emotions, only unease.
"I wished I could say all my folks would have handled the situation as well as you. You have seen some of the people I have to work with and they're not all up to scratch. Now, you might not believe this after what happened earlier on the roof, but I liked Reggie."
"You're damn right I don't."
"He was a funny guy," Carver continued, unaware of Ellie's thoughts. "He kept things light. A community need folk like that. It is easy to lose hope in times like these. But…" The joviality melted away from Carver's face like hot wax. "He was weak, and I don't mean because he was a cripple. He was weak willed and incompetent. He's had a string of screw-ups lately and didn't learn from them. I can't have that around here, too much is at stake. You understand?"
Ellie may not have liked Reggie or cared for what happened to him – he was a hindrance to any escape – but that didn't mean she agreed with Carver's way of doing things. Back in the QZ they didn't kill people just because they weren't capable. They train them and if that didn't work you moved them around until they found them a job they could do instead. As much as she hated Spears, she had to admit that his way of dealing with people like Reggie were better.
"Killing one in order to save many is a part of survival." Carver said when she didn't show any sign of responding. "It's one of the tough decisions that a weaker person couldn't make. It's why it falls to people like us to lead them to safety. They are weak, and we are strong. It's our responsibility to shepherd the flock. It's their nature to follow… not to lead."
"People like us! Shepherd! Flock!" Her mind raced back to the cabin. he had called them sheep after they were captured. Her stomach turned in utter disgust at the insinuation he was casting. "I'm nothing like you," she hissed.
"Oh, but you are. You wouldn't have made it this long if you weren't," Carver spoke with confidence. "You have the cunning and the will to do whatever it takes to survive, whiles others like say… Nick, who lack these traits would have died a long time ago if Pete hadn't been there to hold his hand. And he's not the only one in that group who needs guidance. If Sarah had a brain, she would have known better than to interrupt with her prattling during the morning meeting."
"Shit, so he did notice." Was that why he had ordered Sarah to stay behind on the roof? So he could punish her or just to chew her out?
"I considered disciplining her for her insolent stupidity but then with only one command from you she shut up immediately." He smiled proudly. "You like me are meant to lead; they follow. I think you realize that too… but it makes you uncomfortable, being different, superior. So, you don't want to admit it, even to yourself."
Ellie's insides boiled, burning away her fear and her caution.
"Fuck you! I'm not like that!"
Her eyes blazed with hate, and she audibly gritted her teeth. Her grip tightened on the armrests until her knuckles turned white and her nails dug into the plastic. It was all she could do not to launch herself for his throat.
"There it is." Carver smiled as if he had just struck gold. "There is the fire I saw in you the day we meet. Just like then, you looked me straight in the eye and although you were scared, I knew you wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger when the time came. That is what we need if we're gonna get through this. The next generation needs to have that kind of nerves to lead humanity out of this. Kids like you, raised the right way. The way my child will be raised. It's-"
"It's not your kid!" Ellie snapped.
She didn't know how he had got it into his head that he was the child's dad. There was only two ways she could see how that could be true. One was if Rebecca cheated on Alvin and Ellie couldn't believe she would do that, not with this piece of shit. The alternative being if Carver forcing himself on Rebecca, the thought made Ellie's stomach turn in revulsion. She prayed that neither were true and that he was simply delusional.
"Alvin is the father, not you!" She continued, putting all her conviction into the words.
That wiped the smile from his face and although she didn't show it, Ellie felt savage triumphed at the sight. He sat there for a few seconds in silence, muscles in his jaw and brow twitching. His eyes bored right into hers, making Ellie's heartrate increase and the muscles in her legs tensed, preparing to spring to her feet at the slightest sign of aggression. It never came.
"Well, even if that was true it doesn't matter, it's mine now." Carver said, his voice low with a dangerous edge to it. "And I'll make sure that they are ready to face whatever the world may throw at them. I'm not gonna hide them away in a bubble of ignorance the way Mrs. Hale tried to do with you."
Ellie's insides instantly went cold, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water on her.
"W-what?" She stammered, completely wrong footed.
Carver's smile returned at the sight of her confusion.
"How? How does he know that name? There is no way in hell he could…" Then Ellie's eyes widened as realization dawned and her head snapped in Alvin's direction.
"Yeah, he talked. Took some effort and a few of his teeth and fingernails, but he spilled it all in the end. I will admit I was surprised to learn you were from Boston; you don't have the accent. I got the rest of the story from this." Pulling out a drawer in his desk, Carver took out the book No Pun Intended Volume One and laid it out in front of her on the desk. "So, you see, I know more than enough to put most of the pieces together."
Ellie stared at the book with growing trepidation. She had placed her most precious possessions between different pages in that book as much to hide as to protect them. Carver must have gone through all of her stuff and found them, which meant he had also read the letter. Ellie felt her face heat up and the anger in her chest rekindled with the speed of burning gasoline.
"You had no right," Ellie snarled.
"Don't act naïve, it does not suit you." Carver sounded deeply disappointed. "Rights are irrelevant now, what matters is if you can take something and hold it, it's yours. You know this, how many things that rightfully belonged to someone else have you taken?"
Ellie's jaw clenched shut. They both knew that any form of denial on her part would be a lie. Carver smiled knowingly and flicked through several pages of the first book until he found the first photo. He picked it up, though he didn't look at it. He flipped the picture around so Ellie could see.
"This woman, she's Mrs. Hale, correct?"
There were two people in the photo, sitting on some stone steps in front of a stone tower. One was a young Ellie, her mouth stretched in a toothy grin, uncaring of the fact she was missing one of her front teeth. The second figure was Mrs. Hale, her dark brown shoulder length hair with signs of grey at the roots was held back by a blue hairband. Her rich brown eyes looking straight at the viewer and a warm smile on her face. The young Ellie was sitting on Mrs. Hale's lap and leaning her head against her cheek, with the woman's arms wrapped around her in a hug.
The picture had been taken on one of the few outings the orphanage did into the forests outside of Boston, but Ellie couldn't remember exactly how old she had been at the time. Five or six maybe? She did remember though that she had been in a fight with one of the boys before that picture was taken. He had been angry at her for something – Ellie couldn't remember what – and had thrown her hat into a tree. Unable to retrieve it, Ellie had run off crying and Mrs. Hale had gone to comfort her. That was one of the few times she had had Mrs. Hale all to herself and Ellie had – unashamedly – basked in the attention she was given.
Ellie kept her mouth firmly shut, her face a mask of defiance. It was her past; her life and he had no business poking around in it.
"Very well," Carver said calmly when she did not respond.
He moved the hand holding the photo to his left and Ellie felt her self-control slipping and fear's tendrils worming their way through her when she finally realized why he had lit the candle. She had just leaned forward to rise when Carver stopped moving, the photo's edge less than an inch from the flame. Ellie froze in hesitation, her mind at war with herself over what to do. Her eyes darted between the picture and Carver's calm face.
Sweat formed on her brow as her mind raced to find a way out of this. If she attacked, the only picture she had of Mrs. Hale would most likely be destroyed and if she did nothing it would be destroyed for sure. The only way to save it was to answer the damn question, but that would mean giving in to this bastard threat. No matter what she did she would lose.
At her continued silence, Carver's hand moved slightly more to the left so that the edge of the photo starting to fray.
"Yes! Yes, that her!" Ellie blurted out before she even realized what she was doing.
"See, that wasn't so hard," Carver said and to her relief he pulled the picture away from the flame, smothering the embers that had formed at the edge with his fingers and placed it on the table.
Those words and the triumphant smile he gave her made Ellie's face burn with shame, and a wave of nausea and self-loathing filled her.
"Why couldn't I just keep my fat mouth shut? It's only a piece of paper! I've seen it a thousand times, I got the damn thing memorized. I should have let it burn rather than give in."
But… but she couldn't, it was all she had left of Mrs. Hale. The things in that book were all she had left of all of them.
Ellie slumped down in her chair, shoulders sagging in defeat. She wanted to cry, to scream, to spit in Carver's face, to cut his throat and watch him choke on his own blood. But she could do nothing.
Carver flicked through a few more pages and picked up another photo and stared at it for several seconds before he flipped it over. The picture only held one occupant, a woman in her mid to late thirties with red brown hair. She was sitting in an old, upholstered chair. Her mouth was stretched into a wide smile on its way to laughter, a guitar lying across her lap.
"And this is your mother."
Ellie nodded, there was no point in denying it even if she had the will to. She had inherited almost all her features from her mother. Hair, eyes and most of her face came from Anna but not her nose. Her mothers were slightly pointier and narrower, Ellie suspected she got her nose from her father.
Marlene had told her they were very alike, not only in appearance but personalities. "You're as stubborn as your mother," Marlene used to say whenever Ellie refused to do the chores she had been given or argued against her. Ellie always took it as a compliment.
"What do you know of her?"
"Not much. She was a nurse, or so I was told."
"To bad she didn't live, we could have used her here. People with medical knowledge are rare nowadays. How did you get this picture?"
"A friend of my mom gave it to me."
"How kind of them," Carver spoke slowly, his tone sardonic. "Quite the friend, who was not willing to go the length to adopt you, but they could give up a picture."
"She wanted to but wasn't allowed," Ellie protested heatedly. "She had a criminal record for activism or something."
"An activist," Carver snorted contemptuously. "Then it was a good thing you wasn't adopted; you would have ended up like one of them collage kid protesters. I saw people like that a lot when I was growing up. Nothing but a bunch of fucking ingrates."
Ellie's teeth grind together at his insult. Marlene wasn't like that at all, she wouldn't just stand at the side of the road, screaming and complaining about change. No, she was willing to fight and even kill for what she believed in. She was a freedom fighter who wanted to make things better for everyone. It was dick-tators like Carver and general Spears who ruled with an iron fist that were the problem, not the solution.
"So, what happened to your activist friend?"
"I don't know. We were separated when we were ambushed in the forest you found us in."
Ellie's eyes narrowed and her scowl deepened. She was willing to bet her left pinky that it was Carver that had shoot up their caravan. The only other groups in the area were Carlos and the people by the stream, neither of which seemed to have had the arms to do the deed. Which meant that Marlene's blood was most likely on Carver's hands to.
"I see," Carver said calmly, his face betraying no hint that he recognized a connection. "I noticed you don't have any pictures of your father."
"He left before I was born," Ellie growled. "Don't know anything about him, don't want to know."
Carver made a thoughtful "hmm" sound and placed the picture next to the first. He flipped through a few more pages and picked up another picture. Ellie felt her heart tighten in her chest when he flipped it over and she saw Riley's smiling face. It had been weeks since she last saw her other than in dreams, it always hurt to look at that picture. Riley had had a gift for making Ellie happy even during the height of the outbreak, now though the sight of her filled her mostly just with pain and sadness.
"This girl, best friend?"
Nod.
"What's her name?"
"Riley," Ellie said shortly.
"Riley..."
"Riley Abel."
"She wasn't with you when we found you… so how did she die? Before you left Boston? After? In the ambush?"
"What does it matter?" Ellie snapped. "She's dead! It doesn't concern you!"
"Do not presume to know what concerns me or not." Carver said. He moved the picture towards the candle, his eyes never broke contact with her.
"She got bite," Ellie said quickly, before the edge could get within an inch of the flame. "Before General Spears took over Boston."
"And you put her down." His tone left little doubt that it was a statement not a question, but Ellie decided to answer anyway, just to be sure.
"Yes."
Carver's lips stretched into that proud parent smile again. It made Ellie shudder, as if she had insects made of ice crawl under her skin. She wished this would be over soon so that she could get as far from this sick fuck as possible. Carver put down the picture and opened his mouth to speak when the walkie talkie on his desk crackled to life.
"Bill? Are you there. Over" Tavia's voice came from the speaker.
"I'm here. Over," Carver answered.
"The loading bay door is jacked worse than we thought. Troy really knocked the shit out of it. Over."
The muscles in Carver's jaw twitched and his brow knitted in irritation. "How bad? Over."
"Stan has done the best he could fixing the rails, but even so it won't shut all the way so we can't lock it. Normally I wouldn't say it was an emergency, but it could be a big problem for us if the herd hits. Over."
"I'll come done and have a look. Over and out," Carver said calmly, his face expressing the anger his voice hid. The walkie-talky had hardly touched the desk before Carver growled, "that fucking idiot."
Carver rose from his seat and walked over to the widow facing the yard. He stood there for several seconds in silence before he turned and headed back to his desk.
"We'll have to finish this conversation at another time. If you continue to contribute to our community the way you did today, I'll consider returning this back to you." He replaced the pictures in the book and shoved it back in the desk. "If you cause trouble though… well, you get it."
Ellie nodded dully.
"I'm glad we understand each other." He walked around the desk until he stood over her. Looking up at him, Ellie felt like an ant about to be crushed underfoot. "You have great potential Ellie, it's kids like you and your friend Clementine that gives me hope for the future. But you've been around weak-willed fools for too long, they have led you astray. You need a firm hand to guide you back on the right path. From this day on I will be that hand and I will be there to correct you if you stray. I will overlook your outburst this time but if you insult me to my face again, I will discipline you."
The reminder of the slap he had dealt her sent the phantom sting of a thousand needles across her bruised cheek. The strike had been so hard it had knocked her to the ground and set her ears ringing and kicked off headache. Ellie had no wish to be struck by him again. She nodded.
"You may go," he said after a few seconds of unnerving silence. "It's about time for dinner, I'll make sure you get something extra as a reward for your good behavior today."
Even though she was tired, and her stomach was crying out for it, Ellie had long since lost her appetite and not even the mention of extra food could entice her. She got to her feet and headed towards the door, slowing down shortly to give Alvin a glance. Her eyes softened at the sight of his battered form. He was still unconscious and did not seem to have moved at all the entire time she had been there. She also noted – now that she knew to look for it – the seven missing fingernails on his hands and she felt great admiration towards him for holding out so long.
The sight of Carver's cruelty, his blackmail as well as his last jibe about her "good behavior" made her hands quiver with barely suppressed rage. A single though ran through her head on a loop as she left the room.
"I'll fucking kill him!"
She barely had the self-control to close the door behind her without slamming it.
Clementine slowly drifted into consciousness and let out a groan of discontent. She did not want to wake up, she had had such a sweet dream. Lee was there with her mom and dad, Kenny, Duck, Ellie, Pete and all the rest. They lived on a farm, and all was well. Lee, dad, Kenny and Carlos sat on the porch, talking and laughing. Ellie and Sarah were sitting under a tree next to the house and reading books. From the open kitchen window on the ground floor drifted the smell of cocked food as well as the laughter and chatter from mom, Katjaa and Sarita. Alvin and Rebecca walked around the grounds with broad smiles, pushing a stroller along. Clem and Duck was sitting on either side of Pete on a log next to an old tractor, he was teaching them how to whittle. Everyone was happy and it was warm there.
Clementine's body did not feel warm in the waking world, her fingers were cold to the bone. The only warmth she felt was the soft thing she was leaning against. She nuzzled into it and tried to go back to sleep but quickly found she could not. The thing was moving with a jolting rhythm that combined with the cold made it impossible. She opened her eyes and quickly shut them again when a sharp beam of light stabbed into her retina. She opened them again; slower this time into a squint and it took almost half a minute for her groggy mind to grasp why her entire world was jolting up and down. She was riding piggyback on someone who was jogging along a narrow-overgrown trail.
"Luke?" she mumbled; her voice still groggy from sleep.
"Clem?! Did I wake you?" Luke asked, slowing down to a walk and then a complete stop.
"It's okey. Woke on my own I think," she yawned as he gently let her down on unsteady feet. She stretched which earned her several painful and audible cracks from her spine and joints. "Ow."
She rubbed her eyes and took in their surroundings. They were on the slopes of a hill in a forested area with a mountain just visible over the treetops in the distance. The trees weren't growing as close together here as they had back in the forest where they had first meet, allowing plenty of sunlight to reach them.
"Wasn't it dark a bit ago?"
"That was last night Clem."
"Have you been running all night?" Shock and astonishment mingled in her tired voice.
"Most of it," Luke admitted after a few seconds of hesitation.
They were on a race against time Luke had said when they set out from the lodge. The longer their friends were in Carver's hands the likelier it was that one or more of them would end up dead. So, they needed to reach Howe's as fast as possible and since they didn't have a car they would need to walk or run all the way. With her short legs Clementine had no hope of keeping up with a jogging Luke, so he decided to carry her on his back in order to increase they're over all speed. He had done so for most of every day since they set out. She was amazed at his endurance, but she could see that it had taken a toll on him.
"I know we're in a hurry, but… you need to rest. You haven't eaten anything since we stopped yesterday either, right? We still have three cans of peaches left." She unslung her backpack and opened it.
"Save that for later," Luke said. "I'm good."
He didn't look good, in fact he looked about ready to collapse. He had large dark bags under his eyes which stood out all the clearer since his skin had become markedly paler than usual. He looked ill and he was swaying slightly from side to side. Clementine suspected that if she pushed him, he would fall.
"No, you're not. Luke, you need food, water and rest." Her stomach told her that she needed food to, but he needed it more.
"I'm okey Clem," Luke insisted, sounding mildly annoyed now. "We're almost there, you'll be able to see it when we reach the top." And gestured towards the summit. Clementine opened her mouth to protest but Luke spoke first. "There is a safe place not far from here where I can sleep, and we can plan what to do next."
Grudgingly, Clementine conceded, resealing and shouldering her backpack. The walk to the top took them about twenty minutes, during which Clem kept a close eye on Luke. Now that he had slowed to a walk, whatever had kept him going during the night had seemingly left him. He stubbled several times and moved sluggishly, dragging his feet in the dirt. Clem was afraid that he would fall face first onto the ground in exhaustion at any second, a dangerous thing considering the number of rocks sticking out of the ground here.
Thankfully, they made it to the top without incident. A cool morning wind greeted them, making Clementine shudder and chased away the last vestiges of her drowsiness. The place was thankfully open enough that the warm rays of the sun could mitigate the worst of the cold.
"There it is, home sweet home," said Luke sarcastically. "Looks about the same as when we left it."
Following his gaze, Clem got her first look at Howe's. It was as large and fortified as she had imagined from Luke's description of the place, getting in would not be easy. The heights offered them a clear view of the surrounding grounds and immediately Clem spotted a huge problem.
"There is not much cover. Crossing the parking lot is not going to be easy."
"We'll have to wait for nightfall. It's the only way, I think. They don't have any external lights."
"Okey, but how are we going to get in?"
"I think I know a way. You see the wooden fences they have erected outside the building. There is a flaw in it that I noticed when we were planning out escape, though we never had to use it. There is a loss piece of wood by the gap between the brick wall and the fence over there that we can use to squeeze through." He pointed to the far right of Howe's. "I might have some problem, but it will be easy for you giving your size."
"Okey, then what?"
"We'll have to sneak in and assess the situation. We can't get them out that way without the guards on the roof hearing us, so we'll have to find another way. Give me a minute to think."
They stared at Howe's for several minutes in contemplated silence, only interrupted by a bird and the occasional muttering from Luke. Having no knowledge of the layout of the building or the number of people it held, Clem could do little to contribute to any planning.
Growing sick of looking at the place, she turned on her heel and gazed out on the forest below on the other side of the hilltop instead. The forest thinned out into an open field that stretch out to the mountains at the horizon. The sun was moving towards midday, its rays made the yellow grass that blew gently in the wind shimmer like gold. Only the dark streak of a road marring the beautiful scene as well as the long shadows made by the hills.
Clem smiled and basked in the warms of the sun; it reminded her of her dream. Then her smile faltered, and her brow creased in confusion. There was something wrong with this picture, but she couldn't quite place what it was. She stood there with narrowed eyes for almost a minute before they widened in terrified realization.
"Luke," Clementine said, her voice cracking with alarm.
"Yeah? What is it Clem?"
To stunned to answer, Clementine just pointed a shaking finger at the shadows below the distant mountains. The shadows kept getting longer and longer even though the sun placing should had made that impossible. Luke shaded his eyes and watched in silence for several seconds.
"Jesus Christ," he murmured.
It was a herd, a gigantic herd. She hadn't seen anything like that size since Savannah. A typical one was made up of one to a few hundred walkers, the one below was composed by several thousand at least. It was a shifting black mass nearly a mile wide, moving shoulder to shoulder, with no end in sight. A sea of the dead was creeping across the plains below like a cancerous growth, despoiling the golden field grey and black and heading straight for…
"It's going to hit Howe's," Luke said. "It's going to hit it head on. We need to move; we don't have much time."
"No, you don't," a voice said from behind them followed by the click of a gun hammer being cocked. Clem's heart nearly stopped in her chest, before it tried to pound its way through her ribcage. "Turn around slowly, hands where we can see them."
"We're in trouble," Clementine thought as she did as the voice said.
They slowly turned, hands open and outstretched. Standing before them now were two men, both in their late thirties or early forties. One was armed with a handgun and the other a crossbow.
The man with the gun had short cut rat brown hair under his green cap and a goatee that had started turning grey. He was dressed in a faded green jacket, blue jeans and brown leather shoes. A green backpack hung on his back.
"Well, I'll be damned," the man with the gun said. His blue eyes where wide in surprise for a second or two before they narrowed and grew cold. "Never thought I'd see your face again Luke."
"Hello to you too John," Luke responded, his voice strained.
"We're in very, very big trouble," Clementine realized.
"Throw them weapons on the ground, the girl's backpack too," The man with the crossbow said.
He was shorter than John by half a head. His dark brown hair was cut close to the scalp and almost completely hidden by the brown cowboy hat he had on his head. His jaw and cheeks were covered with a few days' worth of beard stubble. He was dressed in a blue jeans jacket with a white fur collar, pants of an almost matching color to his jacket and like John he had brown leather shoes. A light brown backpack hung on his back.
Clem shared a glance with Luke before she unslung her pack and threw it at the feet of the man with the crossbow. Luke's gun and machete clattered down beside it a few seconds later. The man crouched down and started rummaging through her backpack.
"Where are the others? Pete and the rest," John demanded, turning his head left and right as if expecting them to ambush them at any second.
"Carver captured them a few days ago. They are at Howe's now," Luke answered.
"I don't fucking believe you." The man jabbed the gun threateningly. "Where the hell are they? Speak or so help me go-"
"He's telling the truth!" Clementine blurted out before Luke could respond. Her voice was almost raised into a shout.
"And why should we trust your word anymore then we trust his?" The cowboy asked. "You're not even from Howe's, just a no named stranger."
He had removed her gun from the pack and dropping it on the ground next to the other weapons after a quick inspection revealed that it was empty. Digging his hand into the small compartment of the backpack he pulled out an envelope, opened it and pulled out some of the pictures it contained.
"My name is Clementine, and Luke is telling the truth. Why else would we risk coming back here if not to try and get our friends back?"
The cowboy quickly flicked through the pictures Clem, Ellie and Sarah had taken back at the cabin as well as a few they took during the week they were fleeing from Carver. He shoved them back into the backpack, not bothering to zip it closed and rose to his full height.
"The kid got a point," the cowboy said to his partner. "You know Carlos would never put his daughter's life at risk if he could avoid it and then there is Becca's baby…"
"I… suppose it's possible," John said slowly. "Find anything Bobby?"
"A few cans of food, spare clothes, a lighter, bunch of pictures and an empty gun."
"No airhorn?"
"Nope."
Clementine's brow creased in puzzlement. "Why would he think I would have an airhorn?" She glanced at Luke, but he seemed just as confusion as she felt. John made a dissatisfied noise but did not elaborate.
"So, Clementine, how did you get roped in with this piece of shit?" John asked, the last couple of words dripping with venom.
His gaze had not left Luke the entire time and even now when he was talking to her his eyes did not waver. His behavior frightened her, this felt like more than just caution or anger over Luke's deserting, this was personal.
"Luke saved me from a group of walkers."
"Well, ain't you a goddamn hero," John said sarcastically, scorn written on his face. "So, what was your plan here exactly, you thieving backstabbing son-of-a-bitch? To lead the herd to Howe's and loot the place once everyone was dead?"
"Wh-? No- we didn't- they were-" Clementine spluttered.
"We have nothing to do with the herd-" Luke protested at the same time.
"Bullshit!" John shouted, silencing them both. He walked forward, jabbing the gun into Luke's face. The sight made Clem sick with anxiety, and she struggled to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. "We've been trying to divert the lurkers for days, yet they keep reverting back in this direction. Which mean someone is guiding them. And now we find you here with a perfect vantage point on both Howe's and the herd. Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"No-"
In the blink of an eye, John swung the butt of the gun into Luke's face, sending him to the ground. Luke let out a grunt of pain and covered his mouth with his hands, blood seeping between his fingers.
"Luke!" Clem cried out and instinctually moved to aid him.
"Don't move kid!" Bobby barked; his crossbow aimed at her heart. Clem froze in place, her owl wide eyes darting between the weapon, Bobby, Luke and back again.
"I've always hated your smug face you ungrateful little shit." John sent a kick into Luke's ribs that made him cry out and set him to coughing. "You always though yourself so fucking clever compared to the rest of us, didn't you?"
Luke rolled over onto his side, droplets of blood splattered onto the ground with his every coughing and wheezing breath. John delivered another kick to Luke's stomach that made Luke curled up into a fetal position, his face red from lack of air. Blood running from his nose and mouth.
"Stop hurting him! Please!" Clementine screamed, her voice breaking. "Please, don't-"
"Shut up kid!" John aimed his gun at her and for the first time took his eyes of Luke. They were full of hate and pain. "Or I will shut you up!"
Clementine frozen in midsentence, her lips quivering, fear squeezed her heart and twisted her guts. It was not fear for herself, at least not entirely. Clementine knew she was in grave danger of being killed, but she also knew in that moment that Luke was going to die. The knowledge brought tears to her eyes and her stomach turned so badly that she felt like she would throw up.
"Good. Bobby, keep an eye on her, if she moves kill her," John spoke heatedly and returned his attention to Luke. His face screwed up with distain as if Luke was the most repulsive thing he had ever seen. "Me and George were born in the same town, did you know that? He was my neighbor across the street. We played together as kids, went to the same school, attended the same church, we even joined the army together. He was like a brother to me, and one of you fuckers killed him."
Luke tried to speak, but before he could formulate any words John kicked him in the groin.
"I don't want to hear any of your excuses. Doesn't matter who of you did the deed, unlike the others you are here."
John kicked him twice more in the stomach and sent another to his face. The sound of cracking bone echoed clearly across the hill. Luke rolled over onto his back, moaning weakly.
"Please…" Clementine pleaded, her voice barley above a whisper, tears rolling freely down her cheeks. "Please stop."
"C-come on John, that's enough," Bobby said, he sounded mildly disturbed. "Let just… take them to Bill. Let him decide what do with them."
John whirled around; face contorted with rage.
"Carver can have the girl," John panted. "This waste of life is mine."
He went down on his knees and straddling Luke's midsection. He flipped the gun over, gripping it by the barrel and brought it down like a hammer onto Luke's face. He hit him again and again, the handle coming back with more and more blood on it after every delivery. Clementine turned away, unable look at the gruesome scene any longer. She covered her ears but could not block out the horrible sound. She wished it would just end… and then it did, but the silence did not last long.
"JOHN!" Bobby screamed.
Startled, Clem looking back without thinking and saw what had caused Bobby to scream. John's head was tilted forward, eyes glazed and mouth hanging open, the tip of an arrow protruded out of the side of his skull. Slowly he tipped over onto his side, limply falling of Luke's body and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Clementine stared at the body in bewilderment and shock, looking up she saw a figure standing next to a tree at the edge of the hilltop. It was a woman with hair that was held up by a hairband. She was dressed in a dark raincoat and jeans. It was difficult to tell what color her clothes and hair had as she was covered from head to toe in dried walker blood, she had even smeared her face with it like warpaint.
Bobby let out a wordless scream, he raised his crossbow and fire. The woman dived behind the tree just in time for the bolt to miss her. Just as quickly as she had disappeared, she came back out on the other side of the tree and loosed another arrow. Hasty aim or quick reflexes on Bobby's part caused the arrow to miss, but it was a close thing. Cursing Bobby let go of his crossbow and he ran at Clementine, his foot hit her backpack and tipped it over. Before she could do anything, he hoisted her off the ground with one arm and held her like a shield. Clem tried to struggle free but cease the instant she felt the sharp edge of a knife against her throat.
"Drop the bow or I'll kill the kid," Bobby shouted, making Clementine flinch and the knife nicked her skin. Warm blood trickled down her neck.
"Go ahead," the woman called back dismissively. Walking closer, arrow drawn and ready to be released.
Clem felt her heart hammering against her ribcage and struggled to control her breath. Now more than ever she was certain she was going to die. He was going to slit her throat and she would die drowning in her own blood.
"The fuck did you say?" Bobby yelled, he sounded shocked. This was clearly not the answer he had expected.
"Go ahead," the woman repeated calmly. When she was about twenty to thirty feet from them, she came to a stop and started circling them instead. "I don't give two shits if you kill her."
"You're bluffing," Bobby said with a nervous chuckle. He turned with the woman's movement, making sure to keep Clementine firmly between them. "If the girl meant nothing to you, you would have fired already."
The woman stopped about a quarter through a full turn. A tense silence fell over the hilltop, the two watching each other's like hawks. Clementine felt Bobby renew his grip around her waist several times as she slipped from his grip. Every time she feared he would cut her throat, whether intentionally or by accident. It felt like the silent stalemate lasted an eternity before it was finally broken.
Bobby let out a chuckle and started to close the distance between them. The woman responded by backing away. Bobby stopped after only a few steps and chuckled again.
"Seems we are at an impasse," Bobby said with a strained tone that nevertheless held a drop of humor. "I can't get to you, and you can't get to me without hurting the girl and it's clear you don't want that."
"Because I don't have to," the woman said calmly and to Clementine's surprise and relief she lowered the bow. "I'm just a distraction dumbass."
Clementine had barely registered her word when she heard a swishing sound followed swiftly by a meaty thunk. Bobby's entire body suddenly jolted and hot droplets splatter onto the right side of her face. Bobby's fingers spasmed, his grip on her slackened and she fell to the ground. She let out a cry of pain when the knife that had still been against her throat slice into her flesh, cutting a long streak across the left side of her neck. She quickly clasped her hand to the wound in order to stem the bleeding. Warm blood pumped out, seeping between her fingers and down to her collarbone.
"Nice going, Texas. He never even heard you coming." Clem heard the woman say.
There was a deep grunt in response, followed by wet meaty sound that Clementine had heard many times before.
The wound did not feel deep, hopefully missing the major arteries. Taking long slow breath she tried to slowdown her racing heart and thus the bleeding. Clementine slowly sat up, careful not to move her neck in any way to make it worse. Twisting her whole body, she looked back and saw a broad-shouldered man holding a steel pipe that had several vicious looking blades attached to the bend at the top. Fresh blood dripped from the blades down onto the ground by Bobby's now lifeless body.
Like the woman he was dressed in a dark raincoat and jeans, both covered in dried blood as well as portions of his face. Several weapon's – two rifles and a bow – stuck up from behind his shoulders, attached or holstered to his backpack somehow Clem suspected. The man did not look like he had reached forty, yet his black hair and beard had already turned gray at the temples and chin.
What struck Clementine the most though and sent a cold shiver down her spine was the expression on his face, it was cold and uncaring. Appealing for sympathy would probably not work on him. Clementine got the distinct impression that he could and would smash her skull in without hesitation or remorse.
"Think there is more of them?" Texas asked, speaking with a southern accent. He did a quick survey of the area, whiles the woman crouched down and picked up Bobby's knife.
"Doubt it but keep your eyes open. I'll signal the others." The woman pointed a finger at Clementine. "Don't move."
She walked off towards the edge of the hill facing the herd. Clem gaze followed her until it reached the two bodies.
"Luke," she whispered.
John's body obscured much of her view, but what she could see made her heart sink into black despair. Luke lay motionless on the ground, eyes closed, face bruised, swollen and covered in blood. His mouth was half open, showing several broken teeth. She wanted to go to him, to check his pulse, his breathing, to find any sign of the life she was certain was already gone. But one glance at Texas told her that he would not allow it. He had placed the pipe with the other weapons on his back and armed himself with a gun.
Texas walked over and crouched down by her fallen pack, he watched her closely as he moved, weapon held at the ready. His hand moved towards the weapons she and Luke had been forced to surrender but stopped and instead picked up a piece of paper, no not paper, a picture. It must have fallen out of her pack when Bobby knocked it over. He stared at it for a few seconds and Clementine swore she saw a facial muscle twitched.
Before she could think much of it, a dark shadow covered her and blotted out the light.
"Now then, what are we going to do with you?" The woman asked.
Carried on the wind from the distant fields below came the sound of an airhorn blowing, and thousands of decayed mouths opened and growled in response.
I feel like a terrible person for doing this to Luke, but the walking dead universe is not a forgiving place.
I've not really done this before but here is a little Q&A.
Thunrady: I hope that in this story alvin and rebecca don't end up dying and that alvin jr ends up staying with his parents, I don't think that ellie wants to take care of a baby.
A: No, Ellie would not want to do that, she grew up at an orphanage after all so she knows how much work it involves and how much noise babies make. I cannot promise that there will be a happy ending for Alvin and his family. I have even been asked to kill of Aj for all the pain he caused Clem in the games.
Sorarules23: Will Carver this time get a much better death scene that puts him in pain? Cause despite how severe his death scene was in the cannon WD telltale games. It wasn't satisfying because he died instantly after two hits. I want Carver to feel a slow pain and agony before he finally bites the dust. Personally I think Carver should be the one screaming from getting Beaten by a golf club.
A: I have not decided Carver's ultimate fate yet, I have a few ideas but I can't promise they will be more painful then being shot in the legs and hit in the head with a crowbar. What I can tell you though is that there will be no golf clubs involved.
NacNak: Y'know, I forgot how much I hated Carver, thanks for the reminder. XD
A: Your welcome.
GlaringEyes: This doesn't bode well for Clem; I hope she's not forced to choose sides with Ellie or Kenny.
A: The walking dead is all about making tough choices. Many in the group has expressed their anger over what Kenny did on the ride to Howe's, as such he knows she is angry with him for what happened but is currently unaware about just how much she hates him.
Thunrady: I hope that later the infected appear in the story. It would be interesting to see clementine's reaction when she meets runners, clickers or bloaters.
A: Yes, I have plans to introduce the infected in a later chapter. They will not be as numerus and recurring as the walkers but they will cause problems.
GlaringEyes: Ellie's going through Clem's original route at Howe's; putting up with Carver, Bonnie and Reggie, trying to help Sarah, and even getting to meet Becca, Shel and Wyatt from the 400 Days DLC. The only difference is her animosity towards Kenny (which I hope they'll sort it out somehow; I really don't want either of them to die).
A: I don't want to kill any of them (I didn't want to kill of Pete either) but if I don't it wouldn't be the walking dead and people would find it a bit boring and predictable after awhile.
