Chapter 3
After Clementine's first day since moving inside the truck, she started placing traps within the surrounding area. She marked areas with her traps by marking trees with a 'T' with her hunting knife. She also attempted finding a stream or river she could use for fishing marking trees with an 'R' as she hiked. After plodding around the forest for a while she eventually found a stream that she could for water on top of fishing. She walked along the bank to scope things out and stumbled upon a part of the stream that had an island in the middle splitting the it in two for a bit. 'Shit.' She had found fish traps in the water, and decided she'd be better off going back the way she came in the case they came to check on their traps.
As Clementine began her hike back, she started pondering on what her ultimate plan here was. She knew that someone was around for sure now. Thankfully, her truck was a considerable amount of distance from the snare she had found the rabbit in, as well as the fish traps from the stream. Knowing that she still had to be prepared in the case somebody decided to come around, she started by attempting to make the area more defensible.
Clementine, however, had quickly realized that was nearly impossible for her right now, as she didn't have most of her work tools anymore. She still had a hammer, hunting knife, gutting knife, a crowbar, and hand axe. She could use the hunting knife to make more spears, but she didn't have anything to sharpen the blade with, so she didn't want to risk making the blade more dull than it already was. She also had the option of making a fall back area somewhere far away from the truck, though considering she had nowhere near enough food or supplies to even bother attempting it that plan was ignored for now. Deciding to return to that option for a later date, stuck on what she could do, she kicked an empty can. Which made a light bulb go off in her head, as she decided that she could just tie up some of the junk around as a type of alarm system to let her know if anyone or anything had entered the area. Searching for any junk, scraps, or anything that could make noise, in the truck and on the forest floor, she got started setting up noise makers, using vines as rope and tied them to trees to hold them up. Clementine only managed to surround about a tenth of the area with the crap she had managed to find.
Afterwards, Clementine decided to try hunting and foraging around for anything edible. She only managed to find some wild onions and acorns that she just ignored before the sun began to set. She knew that the acorns could be made to be edible, but had no idea how to do so. The page from her survival book that brought up the topic had been torn up when she found the book a year ago, only showing tidbits that didn't give any meaningful details on what to do. She had once even tried to just bite into the flesh of an acorn weeks ago and had to spend the rest of the day tasting nothing but that awful bitterness.
As she trudged back to the truck, she saw a bird's nest in one of the trees, attempted to climb it for the eggs or baby birds that were up there. As she climbed, she went to grab a branch that immediately snapped once she had grasped it, surprising the little girl. 'Fuck.' is all she thought as she lost her footing and proceeded to fall off the tree and straight onto her back. Laying there for a second contemplating before letting out a groan, she sat up placing one hand on the ground and the other on her knee, and started pushing herself off the forest floor. Not wanting to go hungry today, and feeling like her pride had been injured, she tried climbing the tree again and this time successfully reached the nest.
'Five tiny little eggs.' she did a little celebratory fist pump, climbed down the tree and returned back to the truck she had made her home.
Starting a small fire once she got back, she boiled the eggs in a pot. She wished she could fry them, but the lack of any oil or pans had forced her to boil most of her food. She washed the onions in the stream, then placed some in the boiling water as well. When the eggs had finished she scooped them out with a 'Y' shaped branch she had found. Waiting for them to cool before peeling them she started thinking about whoever else might be here. They were knowledgeable enough to make snares and fish traps, possibly had a group, considering that she had found more than a couple fish traps when she had found them. She had thought about leeching off the traps, considering that they were already established, but didn't want to risk getting caught in the act. She could go at night, but it got extremely dark by then and it was dangerous considering the wildlife that was around. After a few minutes of indecisiveness, she scooped the onions out of the pot and started peeling the eggs. Botching the first two a bit, she managed to remove the shells from the last three with no problems.
She took bites from both the eggs and onions at the same time, practically inhaling them. Once she finished eating, she watched the fire die down and moved the pot out of the minuscule flame. The water from the pot eventually cooled down enough that she started sipping it, noting the oniony flavor it had. All in all, apart from falling off the tree, today was a very successful day in her book.
The very next day at sunrise, she decided to go down to the stream to check out the fish traps and wait to see if anyone would come to check on them. She waited for a few hours as the sun had moved to the center of the sky, and when no one came she decided to leave and check again another day. On the way back home, she had been up random junk and throwing it in her backpack to extend her alarm system, finding a few glass bottles and cans.
Her alarm system had drawn in three walkers, that she began clearing out and then gutted one of them to smother her raincoat in the walkers insides. As she removed the coat, she noted the patches of duct tape that had grown in number over the years as it got caught on things. This once bright yellow coat had essentially been her lifeline, even if she got sick from the stench sometimes, for the longest time. The outside layer of the coat having been stained a dark brown color from having been drenched in walker blood and guts, with only a few splotches having retained the original color. She knew that eventually she'd need to find a replacement for the dingy coat one day, but she that didn't stop from feeling the least bit sentimental towards the piece of clothing as she finished rubbing guts on it and put it back on.
She decided to check her traps, most were empty finding that the last one had been triggered by a mouse. She checked to see if the rodent was dead by twisting its head before untying it. Not wanting to risk what happened last year with a squirrel escaping her once when she thought it was dead, back when she stayed at the cabin in Tennessee. If she remembered where that cabin was, she'd probably return there, but was also extremely hesitant to return to the state, as she was still extremely cautious about coming across the large group that seemed adamant on ruining her day every time she came across them. She still thought about that first real encounter she had with them every now and then. She truly thought that she might've died that day, the scar on her cheek reminding her of just how close she was to death.
The memory had made her angry enough to want to get revenge towards whoever that guy 'Nick' or whatever his name is, that had shot her that day. The stress and anxiety from that event had still made her extremely paranoid about entering or leaving any buildings. She was also angry at the red haired lady, but she kind of understood why that one had shot at her as she was walking with a group of walkers when the bullets started flying, although she was still extremely pissed about most of her stuff being gone.
Returning back to the truck, mouse in hand, and even more junk to use as noisemakers, she started getting busy before the sun could set. Having managed to now surround about a third of the area in alarms. After that, she started a fire and got started with preparing her mouse, dressing it and skewering it with the leftover onions she had found yesterday.
'Never thought I'd be eating a mouse.' She joked to herself, holding the rodent over the fire. Then again she didn't think she'd be doing any of the things she'd done in the past two or so years. She was approaching her third winter in this messed up world and she had amassed a bit of a body count over that timeframe. She'd probably killed hundreds of walkers in her nonstop journey around Georgia, the Carolina's and Tennessee. She'd also killed some living as well, although she never thought about the act of killing a living person as much anymore. It had become a normal thing for her at this point, the teenager in that Georgia restroom was the tipping point for her she guessed, as each time she'd been the cause of someone's death after that had just been something she did to survive. She mostly used walkers to do the deeds, but sometimes she did have to shoot someone, stab, or smash their head in with a hammer. She remembered each one though, the stranger was her first, then Lee, the couple in the shed, the teenager, some weird old lady in a zoo that had tried to lock her up in a cage, three bandits that had caught her rubbing herself in walker guts inside a library. She didn't exactly know what they had wanted from her as they kept saying words she didn't understand, but she didn't want to ask as she stabbed the guy who had tried to grab her, running away and shooting the other two while they looked for her. The last people she had killed were a group of five that were attacking a family stuck inside a burning house, she had been in a herd at the time that were attracted by the noise and followed them to the conflict. She had shot at some of them with the crossbow she used to have, and let the herd take care of the rest as she attempted to help the family in the building... they didn't make it.
Clementine shook herself out of her thoughts when she saw that the mouse had finally finished cooking. Noting the flavor to be similar to rabbit meat, just nowhere near as big and filling. Throwing the carcass into the trees when she finished eating, she snuffed out the flame and entered the truck to sleep.
A week had passed since she had moved inside the truck, she had finally finished setting up her alarm system and had managed to finally rack in enough food from her traps and fishing that she needed to start preserving the meat. Her daily check ups on who might own the fish traps had been fruitless, the group either seemed to check on them before she got there or after she left. She could see the tracks the group had left on the other side of the riverbank but chose not to follow them just in the case that they might be more trouble than it's worth. The weather had also started cooling rapidly since then, her hoodie just barely keeping her warm now as she filled out her clothes entirely now, no longer needing to roll the sleeves up. Consequently, leading to her needing to find something warmer whenever she could. The hides from the rabbits and squirrels would have been useful to her so she could make gloves or some form of scarf, if she still had her sewing kit, so she just threw them into the fires she made whenever she cooked something.
Clementine had also started practicing trying to start fires without a lighter or match, the result being less than satisfactory most of the time, but she found that the bow-drill thingy worked the best for her. She just needed more practice to keep up the pace and not let the ember die out. Her tinder supply had also been growing as a result of her practice attempts. Although, perhaps she was hoarding more than she needed as the amount of firewood she collected could last her awhile. Considering the fact she only had a fire lit for at most a half hour or so.
The only thing that she was really worried about was the wildlife, she'd heard wolves or what she thought were wolves running around whenever she checked her traps. She didn't think they'd bother her, as she smelt like a rotten corpse and never saw a walker on her hikes that looked like it had been eaten by something. Not to say she didn't clean herself, as she washed her clothes and herself every now and then. She just never really thought of the act as too important these days, the smell of her raincoat stopped truly bothering her a long time ago and whatever her body could cook up was practically like walking in a field of flowers compared to it.
She had begun her eighth trek towards the fish traps, hoping that she'd finally see who owned them. Before she could even see the riverbank though she heard voices, she didn't recognize them at first, but as she got closer she froze. Two of the people there she had sworn she'd seen before, the old guy in camouflage and the guy in an orange shirt, the other one was some lanky dude with a baseball cap.
"You think Carver will find us here, Pete?" The guy with the orange shirt asked.
"Maybe, I don't see how he would, but considering the type of man he is, I dunno. Carver'd probably dig to the depths of hell if it meant that he'd get us back." The older man joked, but with a serious tone.
"Ain't that the truth, the bastard was obsessed with finding whoever I shot at in that neighborhood sixth months ago, for like a month or so." The lanky guy stated.
'You asshole.' Clementine cursed in her head as the guy she now identified as Nick spoke again.
"Say Luke, you ever figure out what came about with those searches?" He asked the guy in the orange shirt.
"Nah. But that asshole Troy did swear he had found 'em before we were forced to leave from the Lurkers." He answered. "He did also say he had seen someone by your description of "a midget in a yellow raincoat running around covered in shit and guts" walking around with some walkers a few weeks after on a scavenging run." Luke said in a bit of a mocking voice.
"Shit." Nick cursed softly as he watched the backs of the other two checking the traps.
"Maybe you'd feel better, if you learned to keep your finger off the trigger, son." Pete chided Nick who got angry after the words came out.
"How many times do I gotta tell you, I ain't your damn son?!" Nick yelled at the older man. "Plus the fucker shouldn't have startled me like that, especially covered in all that crap." Defending his actions.
"Can you both quiet the fuck down before you bring out every damn lurker in this damn forest towards us?!" Luke scolded both of them. "Shit, what's done is done, let's just get these traps emptied and get back. Carlos has been on my ass about the food situation, and I don't feel like telling him Sarah might not eat today because of you two arguing." He kept going on after that.
Clementine decided that she didn't feel like listening to them argue anymore and left. She knew who owned the traps at least, and judging by what they said, they had left their previous group. That didn't exactly absolve them of nearly killing her, especially since that Nick guy didn't exactly seem all that apologetic about believing he got her killed. Her opinion of the other two wasn't all too bad though.
After finding out who owned the traps, Clementine chose not to bother checking their part of the river anymore as there wasn't a point in it anymore. She spent the rest of the day foraging, finding more wild onions, a mushroom that her book identified as 'chicken of the woods' as well as some mulberries. She also started building fish traps of her own once she got back home, deciding that she should try to make obtaining her food as hands off as she could. Not for any particular reason, just for the reassurance that if she didn't catch anything during the day, the traps would make sure she at least had something to eat. She also felt like being a little petty, if it meant the other group got less food.
Five days had passed since Clementine found out who owned the fish traps. Her own traps had been doing a good job at getting her fish, steadily obtaining a surplus of meat that she had been keeping the fire going to smoke the meat and fish almost every night now. She had gotten started on making a tiny little smokehouse out of mud, logs, and vines. Mostly just to hide the light of the fire she'd have to leave burning overnight.
Most of her day was spent foraging around now for anything that could help with making the food taste better. During that time, she'd also write in her notebook about anything she'd learned or was planning on doing while in the forest. Right now, she was documenting what she'd need for a fallback area, in the case someone had found her truck. She had been storing the dehydrated fish and small game meat in rags she had cleaned and placed in her duffle bag and backpack. Clementine had also stored her duffle bag, a few minutes walk away from the truck, under the roots of a tree and buried it under a bunch of branches and leaves. If there was anything that she learned from the people she'd come across, is that she needed to have a fallback plan, especially in an area like this. She also marked the tree with an 'F' if she ever forgot where it was. As of now she was debating on whether or not she would need to make spears in case she lost her weapons. She still had one she had made when she first arrived in the forest, that while not the longest, refused to break. Clementine had burned the spear tip black, as she had read it could make wood a little stronger and it seemed to work well enough. She didn't have much use for spearfishing anymore, so she used the weapon for killing walkers that had been drawn to her home. The weapon struggled a tiny bit at getting through the skulls, but she blamed that on her lack of height as she had no problem stabbing downed walkers with it.
Placing her notebook back in her backpack, she looked at her haul for the day. Onions, garlic, and some extremely sour grapes called muscadine that she had confirmed were indeed safe to eat. The sun still had a few hours before setting, leaving her with a decent amount of time to gather her thoughts as she walked back home.
Clementine had dreamt about talking to Lee in the train again yesterday, the man had seemed sad about something. She knew it wasn't real, but the dream had put her off a bit, if only for a few minutes. He didn't say much to her in that dream, just sat with her and watched the trees pass on by as the train had chugged along the tracks. After a while he just stood up, said "I'm sorry Clem" and left. She didn't really know what the dream had meant, all of the dreams, the good ones, he had just been there to help her with something she was struggling with mentally, or to just remind her of something he'd told her when he was still alive. This dream had been different though, and she didn't know how to feel about it. She hadn't been very good at dealing with her emotions in the past two years, remembering how Kenny explained where Duck got his nickname. She didn't really get the joke at the time, but she understood it now. Whenever something bad had happened to her since Savannah, she didn't dwell on it much. Sure she still felt angry or sad about things, it just didn't seem to affect her that much anymore. She'd found it easier and easier to kill a living person every time she did, and walkers didn't even bother her all that much anymore since she practically lived with them for two years.
Clementine had finally gotten back home and decided to look at herself in the rearview mirror of the truck. Her hair had grown a lot since she last cut it, taking her cap off and grabbing her knife she started trimming it. Checking the mirror after finishing to see how she'd done, she frowned. She'd cut a bit too much on the top, and if she didn't have her pigtails, she was sure someone would think she was a boy. She placed her knife back in its sheath and picked her cap back up. Staring at the blood stains Lee had left on it for a moment before putting it back on. That hat had always stirred up bad memories for her, but she never could bring herself to get rid of it. It was the only thing she had left of her dad, and Lee had died trying to save her and return the hat back to her.
She eventually got over herself and went to the stream to wash the fruits and vegetables she had gathered. As well as to wash her some of her clothes and herself.
The weather had gotten even colder, winter was approaching fast and she already started noticing that her snares were catching less game. It also got harder to sleep in the truck, as the metal floor made it hard to stay warm, although she fixed that problem somewhat by using the cardboard from the boxes full of cigarettes cases and pine needles. She needed to find something warmer than the aforementioned cardboard and pine needles. Although she didn't have much luck in that department as there weren't many blankets or clothing stores in forests. The fabric of the chairs were an option she considered as she didn't have much use for them, the only problem with the idea being the fact that she'd have to work around them being bolted down. Seeing no other issues with the idea, she got to work cutting the chairs open, pulling the spongey material out and placing it under the cardboard she had laid out for sleeping. She then got to work on the fabric, making sure to keep both the chairs fabric in one piece as she cut them up. She had to cut around the bolts holding the chairs to the frame, leaving a few tiny holes in the makeshift blankets, but other than that she was proud of her work. They weren't the warmest coverings on the planet and they were kind of itchy when they met bare skin, but it was better than literally nothing so she didn't care all that much.
Clementine waited for her clothes to dry near the fire, putting them back on and curling inside her makeshift bed in the truck. When she woke up the next day, she saw that five walkers had entered her camp. Grabbing her raincoat and spear, she went to finish them off, smothered her coat in guts and dragged them off somewhere so she didn't have to smell them. By the time she got back to camp, she was exhausted from having to move five bodies just as she woke up.
Her alarms had been working a bit too well it seems, but she didn't bother to remove them. She just repaired any that broke or fell and went on with her day.
She repeated that schedule of killing walkers, checking traps, foraging, and so on. After a week, Clementine noticed that her snare traps at this point had stopped catching anything. The fish traps were still catching fish, but she was going to have to start eating less meat now until the winter passed and the critters started coming out again.
It had also started raining nearly every other day, which had really messed up things for her as she had to abandon her coat in the truck when she checked her traps. Her blue hoodie had also seen its last days, being torn up from a bad fall she took when slipping down a tiny hill.
She ripped the piece of clothing down into rags she could use, but she was aggravated by the loss. She now had to start using makeshift torches to stay warm during her daily trap checks. Using fabric from clothing that the walkers she killed were wearing as fuel. She also noted that walker goop as she had called it was decent enough for burning if she soaked rags in the stuff, since the old walkers didn't really retain water in their bodies anymore the stuff inside them burned easy and for a while, which was good for her, even if it smelled something awful and the stench stuck to her clothes.
She'd hear the group of runaways every now and then while checking on her own traps. They argued quite a bit it seemed, hell she was surprised they hadn't killed each other by this point, seeing as they never seemed to shut up when they started. She'd always try finishing up early when she heard them going at it, as she had to deal with some walkers sneaking up on her one time when her trip had coincided with their own.
She found herself hating the other group more and more as the days went on. They kept finding ways to make her life harder it seemed. She was on the verge of packing her shit up and leaving, but decided against it, as she had a good thing going for her right now. She knew it would only be a matter of time before the runaways decided to leave, it was just a matter of who would go first.
Catching nothing for the day, she got up and started walking back home. Just as the truck came into view though she heard people talking. Sticking the torch in the mud to put the flame out, she started listening.
"I'm telling you Roman, there's gotta be someone here, look at all this shit." One of the voices stated.
"And I'm telling you Winston, that it isn't worth the trouble. Let's just grab the stuff and go." The voice she assumed was Roman argued.
"If we take this shit and leave, whoever owns this crap is gonna want to know where it went man!" Another voice argued.
Clementine mentally cursing to herself, attempted to make a quick getaway. As she walked away she slipped on some mud and lost her footing, making a loud splashing noise as she got covered in mud and water.
"What was that?" She heard a voice chime in.
'Shit' Clementine stood up and started running away, she started searching for her duffle bag she had hid away, but was forced to leave when she heard the group of scavengers get closer, yelling to each other trying to scope her out.
"I think I saw 'em over here!" One of them yelled.
"Fuck! Someone help me up, I slipped in some shit!" Another begged the voice much quieter than before.
She ran even harder, not even looking back in the fear that they'd be right behind her.
She ran for a long time, tripping over roots, dodging walkers, never looking back as she did.
Clementine stopped running, placing her hands on her knees as she ran out of breath. Her chest hurting from the nonstop running.
'Goddamn it' taking deep breaths to trying regain her energy. 'Just calm down and think Clem' she thought to herself. She only had a few things in her backpack as she needed the room to carry anything she had caught or foraged. The bag only contained a few scraps of paper, a lighter, a water bottle, the picture of Lee, and a two dried strips of meat. She still had her pistol in her waistband and her hunting knife attached to one of her belt loops.
Clementine was completely drenched at this point and was forced to search for anything dry to use to make a fire. It was becoming night soon and she'd need to eat soon. Grabbing any wood she could find she attempted to make a fire, she spent almost an hour trying to get it to stay hot as the rain kept trying to put the flames out. Eventually the fire had gotten hot enough that it could somewhat sustain itself, she kept throwing random sticks and logs she could find into the fire though, just incase it tried to die. She stayed up all night, picking at a strip of dry meat that wasn't enough to keep her full, shivering in an attempt to keep the fire alive.