Initial Day of Outbreak...

In a small neighborhood approximately thirty miles outside of Seattle, Washington, a nine year old boy was lazily watching the television while his parents were out shopping. After getting off of school earlier that day and finishing his homework as he was told to do so, he was now rewarding himself with some afternoon cartoons although it was mostly just reruns. He stretches on the couch and yawns, rubbing his eyes and kicking his leg as it had fallen asleep on him. The boy glances at the front door, wondering why it was taking them so long to come home. He knew they went grocery shopping earlier on that day as he saw the note left on the counter top, but traffic was really bad according to the phone call he had with them as soon as he got home after seeing the note and was worried about them being late. That was hours ago and traffic didn't look that bad when he was getting home. Then again, he lived in a small neighborhood that was a ways away from the main road and highways and the bus route didn't follow any of those aforementioned roads. Sure there was more cars out and about for some reason, but nothing that wasn't... off. Nothing that raised any alarms.

Suddenly the phone rings as he sits up on the couch, hopping off of it to the phone on the table at the other end of the room. He picks it up and tiredly says "Hello this is the..." before hearing the chaos before. He could hear people screaming, cars honking, and other loud obnoxious noises. The boy pulls the phone away from his ears not expecting such noises and slowly brings it back to his ear as he got used to it. He hears his father yell something, but it seemed distant. "Honey..." he heard his mother say in a panicked manner, "Honey lock the doors and windows...close the blinds..."

"Wh- what's going on...?" the boy asks, eyes now wide and tentative. His mothers voice wasn't the happy tone he had expected, but rather one that seemed scared.

"Something bad and wrong is happening... people are attacking each other... God there's so much... call nine-one-one and-"

The phone clicks. The boy, now wide awake, redials his parents number only to hear the dial tone and the familiar female robotic voice that appears if a call couldn't be completed as dialed. He drops the phone which hits the floor with a loud thump. He runs to the back door and locks it and closes the curtains over the door and windows in the kitchen before running to the front door and locking it, but hears noise coming from outside. He goes to the windows and peers behind the curtains...and his eyes widen in fear as the TV that was previously playing some cartoon about vegetable disco stars starts to issue a nationwide emergency broadcast...

Chaos. That was the easy and perhaps the only word to describe what was going on. His eyes follow cars speeding through both ways and people running in seemingly random directions. His eyes then lock on a man, a neighbor he seen his parents talk to in the past as he is grabbed by a person with... a crowbar sticking out of its head... and covered in blood and...

The boy closes the curtains and steps back, panic in his breathing, as he hears the man cry out. He runs upstairs, nearly tripping up them to close the curtains in each of the upstairs windows. As he finished closing the last one, he remembered that he forgot to lock the windows downstairs. As he runs down the stairs, he hears a loud crash that sounded like glass breaking. The boy swallows his nervous saliva and slowly walks down the stairs, gripping the side rails, and peeks around the corner to see a couple of...alive people? Dead people? He couldn't tell...they were all so bloody and...parts of them were missing...

The boy slowly begins to walk back up the stairs backwards. As he does so, the stairs creak which cause him to freeze. Before he knows it, the people turn the corner and notice him. They let off a blood chilling noise and begun to shamble towards the boy up the stairs. The boy now panics as he grips the railing tighter and runs up the stairs, bashing his knee against the stairs as he loses his footing. He cries out and glances back to see them still after him. He recovers himself and runs to his room. He glances back as he sees them nearly at the top. The boy grips the doorknob to his bedroom door and slams the door shut right as they arrive at the top...

Four years past the events of Season 4...

On a road somewhere out in West Virginia, a Walker that was slumped on the side of one of the now many rusted, nonfunctional cars turns its head as it hears some sort of rumbling. The rumbling came louder and louder as it reached out it's one arm, nearly rotted out, towards the source of the sound. A barely audible groan escaped its lips as its rotted out eyes watched a motorcycle speed through, completely ignoring the Walker as it turned its head to follow the noise. It would attempt to stand up and shamble after the noise, but alas due to decomposition and the passage of time, the Walker was simply nothing more than a torso, head, and an arm and couldn't do it's given namesake. The Walker croaks as it, instead, drag itself very, very slowly after the noise with it's one usable arm, the other having long since been rotted to the point of uselessness.

As the motorcycle roared ahead, uncaring of it's action of drawing any Walkers or anything's attention, the two occupants: one obviously driving the vehicle and the other sitting in a sidecar that didn't match the motorcycle's aesthetics, attached simply by an amateur welding job, were traveling to a set destination that was picked out beforehand: a small grocery outlet down the way a few more miles. Long since been looted through nearly a decade since the outbreak started, those with careful eyes have been able to find hidden loot either ignored and or forgotten. That and being lucky never hurts.

The sidecar occupant, holding a map close to themselves to combat the wind, keeps an eye on the current location of them. They glance up as a green sign on the side of the road appears: Mile 28. They look back at the map and relocate themselves. A few more miles to go. "At mile thirty, take the first left." The sidecar occupant, a young-sounding woman, says. The driver does a small nod as they continue to drive along.

The sidecar occupant looks around, scanning the area as they put the map away, folding it as nice as they can considering the wind blowing against her and the map. Over the past few years of arriving to this area, the amount of Walkers have decreased considerably. This was thanks not part due to the combined efforts of the three large local settlements in the area. They were called the Coalition. A few years back thanks to trading, good will, and the charisma of the three leaders, these three groups decided to form this named Coalition to aid each other going forward. After all, they all shared a common goal: survival. Why fight each other when instead they can avoid the bloodshed and worry about the common enemy: the Walkers. Since then, the Walker population has gone down considerably with very few loss of life from the human side. Thanks to that, more farmland has opened up and expansion into the surrounding territory to help other survivors as they flocked in. Although the issue now is overcrowding and lessen resources, but it wasn't all bad news. With more people comes more job expertise and with that comes better ease of life.

The three groups that formed the Coalition: The New Frontier located in New Richmond led by it's fairly new leader Javier, the local traveling Caravan led by it's original founder Yenene, and lastly the Ericson's Boarding School group lead by it's also fairly new leader Clementine. Thanks to Clementine's and Javier's friendship having traveled and aided each other for some time prior, they managed to impress Yenene enough for her to consider joining the Coalition by the current status of the two. Since then, they always meet up once a month at a common place of location in the middle of the three groups territories to exchange news, pass rules, and take care of any issues that might be affecting any of the groups. Simple established rules was to not incite violence or commit crimes against each other, respect territory claims, and assist each other by trade or manpower when and if needed. Territory outside their bounds was free game in terms of looting, but still no acts of violence towards each other. Those who break that violence rule were subject to banishment or death in very rare and specific cases.

As they drive past the Mile 30 sign, the driver takes the first left and drives down that way. The driver slows down after some time on that road as a decent sized building appears: the grocery outlet. It wasn't a big brand name store, but rather some old mom and pop style store that was built just a few miles outside the nearest town. By the outlet was some old restaurants, a gas station, and other assorted minor places of interest. They were looted long ago, but at least the gas station still had some gas left in the underground tank surprisingly.

The motorcycle pulls up in the parking lot of the grocery outlet, right up by the entrance. After taking a glance around, the driver turns it off and gets up. The sidecar passenger grabs a clutch that was laid down in the side car and gets herself up and out of the sidecar with it. The driver comes around to the sidecar and grabs a few empty duffel bags and takes off his helmet, setting it down in the side car. It was a man, around early to mid twenties in age. He was white skinned, with a slight tan, and had messy brown hair and tired, baggy blue eyes. Wearing a black hoodie with a, used to be bright, yellow collared shirt underneath, denim jeans, and black tennis shoes: all of which needed replacing as years of stains, dirt, and grime coat them. His face had some facial hair growing in, however it was currently shaved down and had only once started to grow again.

"Ready?" He asks the woman, who had placed her helmet down in the side car. The woman, who was likely in her early twenties as well, had messy dark brown hair, tied up to the back and side in one bun. She had brown eyes and was biracial, mixed between Asian and African American. She was wearing a white polo shirt with a leather coat covering it along with baggy cargo jeans, bottomed off with black hiking boots: all of which like the mans clothes were just as disgusting and nasty looking thanks to years of use and abuse. She nods as she reached down to adjust the wooden leg that replaced her left leg, thanks to an amputation after she was bit by a Walker a few years prior. "Yeah, ready."

They both check their guns, both of them were carrying Smith and Wesson Model 15 revolvers chambered in .38 Smith and Wesson. After sharing a nod with guns drawn, they enter the grocery outlet, aiming with their weapons as they made sure the place was Walker free. Last time they were here, a few days back, they had killed off the few Walkers that showed up while they were looting so they both expected to see a few strays from the noise they made, but surprisingly: they were clear. They both meet up back at the entrance and nod once more. The man hands the woman a bag and they both walk down the aisles, double checking the very few assorted cans and other items on the shelf. Most of the cans were spoiled, damaged, but a few were good enough condition that they missed out or left behind prior. The man glanced back at the woman who was slowly following along, using the clutch to help herself walk. "You know Clem, you can take it easy now. You don't need to feel obligated to bust your ass off due to being a cripple. There's plenty of easy tasks back at camp that you might be better off doing instead." He says, a small smirk appearing on his face as he inspects a can on the shelf. "After all, you have said your time on the road is over."

The woman scoffs at him. "This 'cripple' can still kick your ass if I felt like it." she retorts, shaking her head in a lighthearted manner. "Plus, I rested for long enough. You know I don't like being cooped up at camp for a long period of time. Also, if the weather continues as it is now, it'll be a very cold winter. We need everyone to pitch in regardless of how much time we had to rest."

"Yeah I know. I haven't felt this cold since back in the west. Means a lot of snow might be coming in the few months. That or it's a cold snap." He places the can back on the shelf, seeing it was damaged and glances at his watch. Cracked, but functional: the date and time was as close to accurate as he can get it considering the many times he had to replace its battery and how long it remained dead for. "Would be weird to start snowing in August or September, but I mean it's not impossible...with how much rain has been coming it..." he trails off, deep in thought.

The woman grabs a box of flavored powder: water flavor enhancers, and tosses them into her bag as she hobbles along. "Regardless, it wouldn't hurt to take the extra precautions if it snows or not."

They finish the aisle and go onto the next, making light chatter. Even though they didn't find any Walkers, they keep and eye and ear out regardless. After a few more aisles, the woman named Clementine matches her pace with the man. "So Snake, have you heard the camps newest rumor?"

The man, allegedly named Snake, sighs and rolls his eyes. "Can't really call it new since I've been hearing it since last year. Something about us dating right? Those kids really do be gossiping about us, me." He points to himself. "When they know damn well I can 'volunteer' them to dig the next outhouse hole and you won't let them off easy."

Clementine also rolls her eyes. "Don't think I know it. Just because we hang out doesn't mean we're automatically dating." She lefts off a slight chuckle. "But, they seem happy regardless. It's been a while since I've seen the others able to relax and...well, fool around like that. The last few months were rough."

"Yeah yeah, I'm aware." he says. "Didn't help that winter was rougher and the following spring caused most of us to get sick. Luckily we were able to barter for that medicine. Luckily a certain someone was able to complete that water collecting system and had plenty of fresh drinking water to barter with." He says, puffing his chest a little.

Clementine hits his knee with her clutch, causing him to fake wince and grab his knee, committing to the bit with a little hop. "Oh hush it, we're thankful you were able to get that all sorted out finally, but don't forget we traded a lot more than just water to get those meds."

He waves his hand in dismissal as they continued to loot the store. As they finished up with the dry based food aisles, he pulls out a flashlight from the bag and lays on the floor, turning it on as he scans the underneath of the shelves. "Hmm, aside from dust and my allergies beginning to act up... oh my." He says, spying a bottle of what he assumed like alcohol. "Give me your clutch." He says, hand extended. Clementine adjusts her weight, placing more on the wooden leg as she hands him the clutch. She rests a hand on his back as she watches him attempt to slide whatever he saw towards them. After a few attempts, the bottle rolls out from under the shelf and she grabs it before it continues to roll under another shelf, picking it up and inspecting it. "Huh, apple wine." She says, inspecting the bottle. She, when he offers it, takes her clutch back as Snake stands up, brushing the dirt and dust off of his pants. He takes the bottle and inspects it. "Doesn't look bad, maybe we'll reward ourselves with a sip when we return?" He asks, more like a statement than a suggestion as he puts the bottle into the duffel bag. Clementine rolls her eyes. "Let's finish this up before we reward ourselves."

Upon arriving the front of the store, they set the bags down on a cashiers table and look inside to see what they found. Some cans of food, some magazines that could be used as reading material or fuel for a fire, assorted cooking and liquid enhancing items, some hardware tools featuring nails and duct tape, the bottle of wine, and other knick-knacks that seemed nice to have if at least to barter with. Overall, a decent haul although a little less than they hoped.

"Well, not bad. However I do believe we cleared this place out fully." Snake says, closing his bag up and slinging it across his back. Clementine does the same, adjusting her weight to accommodate the few extra pounds. "Not going to check the offices or the backroom?" She asks.

"Nah, we hit those first time around thoroughly remember? Plus it's dark back there, especially the backroom, and while I did just find us some batteries, I'm not wanting to waste them to search for nothing." He says, glancing around the store once more to make sure they weren't being snuck up on.

"That didn't take long then, how about we check the gas station again? We cleared it out pretty thoroughly, but if we're going that way anyways for gas..."

"Eh, mind as well." Snake says as they both exit the store, stashing the loot into the sidecar. "It shouldn't take long for me to scoop up some gas so if you wanted to do a quick run of it you could."

"Only if you don't lose us another gas can." She remarks, smirking.

"Fucking Hell woman, that last time wasn't my fault. The handle broke off from years of abuse we've been giving it." He whines to her amusement.

Snake pushes the motorcycle instead of driving it towards the gas station, which was across the way. Clementine follows, keeping an eye out. It had been fairly quiet, but Walkers have a tendency to show up out of nowhere based on her experience. After a few minutes they arrive at the gas station. Snake pulls out an empty gas can and rope from the sidecar as he goes towards a sewer looking lid cover on the road. He looks back at Clementine who was watching him. "Should only take a few minutes, go ahead and look around if you want."

Clem nods as grabs her duffel bag from the sidecar. She goes inside the gas station, tapping the clutch loudly on the ground inside to see if Walkers were around that could be drawn in by the noise. After a moment of waiting and no noise coming from said Walkers or anything, she nods to herself. All seems well for now. She starts to loot around, not seeing much of anything worthwhile. Some old papers, rusted tools, nothing worthy of becoming loot for her to take. She glances at the busted vending machines and sighs to herself after seeing them empty. She shouldn't be surprised, it was them after all that cleared them out. Although one thing did seem new: the door leading to the back. She recalled leaving it wide open when she, AJ, and Willy had came through prior, but now it was barely open. She knew it wasn't the wind that closed the door, that and the pool of blood that was leaking out from the room...

Meanwhile outside, after having tied the rope around the grip of the can, Snake was laying on the ground on his stomach, lowering the open gas can into the storage tank below. There wasn't much left last time they came around, but should still be a few more trips worth down below. He nods to himself as he feels the gas beginning to fill the gas can by the weight increase on the rope. Suddenly, he hears Clementine yell out "Snake...!" He looks towards the gas station building and curses to himself, getting up quickly and letting go of the rope. He grabs his revolver and runs into the station, assuming that a Walker got the jump on her, and see's Clementine looking into the backroom of the building. He sighs a little in relief that she wasn't being attacked, but with gun still in hand he approaches. "What...?"

He follows her shocked gaze to see some dead bodies in the room. Fresh, killed with head-shots. Snake and Clementine approach the bodies and feels them. "Not warm, but not cold..." He says. Clementine frowns as she shakes her head, stepping back. "They were executed Snake."

"How do you know?" He asks, stepping back alongside her.

"Just look." She says, pointing with the clutch.

Snake looks and sees what she was saying. They must've been on their knees or close to the ground as they were all in a similar looking death position. The bullet holes in the wall were pretty close in terms of height and spacing and by the marking on their faces, they were beat up prior to getting shot. He feels the bullet holes on the wall and frowns. "High caliber, rifle maybe? It's deeper than a pistol round... and the holes on the heads would match my hypothesis..."

Snake goes back to the bodies and opens one of the coats of the corpses, looking in the inside pockets. He feels a card and he pulls it out. "Fuck, it's one of the Caravan... they all use these makeshift ID cards as a sign that they are part of the group." He checks the other two corpses, another man and a woman, both of which produce the same style of identification cards. "All of them..." he mutters. Clementine frowns and crosses her arms. "Who would... maybe. Maybe it's the same people messing with our traps." She says.

Snake checks each of the corpses for anything of loot. Aside from pocket lint and trash, there wasn't anything of interest. Snake stands up and goes to her, pocketing the cards into his back pocket. "This mysterious fourth group that's been fucking with not only us, but now the Caravan and the New Frontier?"

"It's possible...no, very likely." She says with a cold expression. "They might still be around, watching us. Those bodies are still somewhat fresh. The blood still runny..." she says, glancing at the door and the outside.

"...Fuck the gas then, let's get out of here." He says, reading her mind.

Clementine nods and they both leave the gas station. After putting her duffel bag back in and climbing into the sidecar, Snake gets on the drivers seat and glances at the open tank hole "Well, hope they won't be mad that I lost yet another gas can and rope..."

Clementine sighs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'll them them it wasn't you fault this time."

"No, it's fine. You are more important than some gas... er... I mean your life is more important than gas." He corrects himself, his face flushing slightly as he puts on his helmet. Clementine, face also flushed slightly as his comment puts her helmet on. "Let's get back, but keep this between us for now. We don't need to scare the others. Figure out what happened and bring it up at the meeting."

Snake nods as he turns the key and the motorcycle turns on. He leaves the shopping block and proceed on the drive back to the boarding school where was their camp. Clementine looks up at Snake as she adjusts herself between the loot in the sidecar. "Did you notice?"

"Notice what?"

"Well, did you find anything else on them?"

"No...?" Snake says, not getting the point she was getting at.

"There were no bullet cases on the ground and they were looted..."

"Well, maybe they used a gun that didn't eject cases..."

"No Snake, this was intentional. They... whoever they are, left the ID cards on them. Took everything else but them. Left them in... on our territory." She says.

"Are you saying they are trying to frame us?" He asks, looking down at her for a moment before looking back on the road as he turned back onto the main road.

"Maybe they expected the Caravan to search for their people. Find them on our turf, executed..."

"...I'll go report their deaths to them tomorrow." Snake says. "I'll bring them up with the boss lady and tell her what's going on."

Clementine nods, "She's an understanding woman, she'll... hopefully know that we had nothing to do with that."

"Well hopefully. Plus I'll bride them with some diesel gas. We might not have a use for it, but I know they need it." He winks, although with the helmet on she couldn't see.

She rolls her eyes, which also couldn't see, and sighs playfully. "I wouldn't expect less of you. Although if you are bribing them with fuel, make it worth the trade and get us some more medicine... and bring us the gas cans back Mister Butterfingers."

Little did they know that stumbling upon that scene would cause a chain of events to unfold...