Lee waited in relative silence, the rustle of leaves as the wind blew the only ambient sound. He surveyed the way the tall branches reached for the sky, waving cheerily as if the world hadn't ended. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that he wasn't standing in the cracked lot of an abandoned gas station and was instead standing outside at his former university. A little smile plays on his face as he remembers the time a student had run across campus from the dorms to make it to class on time. If only Johnson had checked his email, he wouldn't have been out of breath running to a canceled class.

Those were the days. Before the world came to an end, he would stand in the quad of the Humanities building with his colleagues discussing funding, silly classroom stories, and the best and worst of the essays they had to grade. They'd complain about administration or the availability of textbooks. Not about how much food was left and who should get it. It was a simpler time.

And yet, it was a more complicated time. His work had kept him busy. Too busy to remember anniversaries. Too busy to notice when she started coming home later because, well, she still beat him home. So busy that he forgot to be her lover. Maybe if he had done things differently, he wouldn't have been on his way to prison. But then, he wouldn't have been able to save Clementine from being like the child they found in the attic in Savannah, skin drawn in too tight, bones poking through flesh, eyes pale and clouded.

In this world, death is around every corner. On one hand, filing taxes doesn't seem like as much of a chore compared to scavenging for food and medicine. On the other hand, when every moment could be your last, it is hard to forget to care about those struggling to survive around you. Betrayal hurts more in this world, but that's only because love is much stronger.

Lee opened his eyes and took in the world in front of him. He tried to forget about the past. It was gone now, and it wasn't coming back. This world is vacant lots, weeds poking through the many cracks. It is becoming numb to the horrid smell of rotting corpses, not flinching at you loot what was once an officer or a schoolteacher or a nurse. It is keeping watch as your loved ones take a moment to rest from the horrors, scanning the tree line, and unholstering your gun when you see movement.

Later

"Is she going to stay with us," Clementine asked. The young woman had introduced herself as Nia. She was 17 years old and had lost her group a few months back.

"No way," Christa said.

"C'mon, Christa," Omid pleaded. "She's just a kid."

"We've got enough kids to worry about, and we don't know her. How's she been surviving this whole time?"

"I hate to say this," Carley said, folding her arms and keeping her eyes on the stranger, "but I don't trust her." This was a shock to Clementine, especially after Carley had taken care of Ben immediately when he arrived. But Lee understood that that was the source of her caution. Ben had turned out to be the one stealing the medicine, and Doug took the bullet for him. Even if Lee had wanted to take Lily with him, the only way for peace in the group after that was to leave her behind. And after Ben nearly got them killed again in Crawford, well, it seemed Carley had lost her protectiveness over strange youths. So, Nia wouldn't find much sympathy from her.

If Lee was honest, he had his reservations too. Nia had clearly been surviving a while without a group. And if they weren't careful with who they let in, they could get robbed or worse. Still, he couldn't help but see Nia as a child. She had tried to give him the tough act even though she had surrendered almost instantly, and he could tell she was scared to be alone. He looked over at Nia from the circle the group had made. She stood with her arms crossed and chin up. She reminded him of an ambitious freshman, on their own for the first time, afraid of their own shadow and desperately hoping that if they pretend to be the baddest on campus, no one will notice.

"We can't just leave her out here."

"Lee," Carley started.

"We could vote," Clementine suggested. "I vote she stays."

"Me too," Omid says.

"So do I," Lee agrees. The group had agreed to use majority votes when there was time to avoid the power struggle ever present in their previous group whenever possible. And even though Lee often found himself being made the unspoken leader of the group and was made to settle disputes and dilemmas most of the time, this was one of the situations where there was time for a vote.

"So that's two votes for her to stay," Christa said. "You know my vote. Carley?" The rule for ties in these situations is that there were no ties. A tie meant the people who were opposed won. Rarely did Clementine's vote count.

"That's three," Clementine corrected.

"That's two," Christa insisted. "Carley?"

Carley glanced at Lee and sighed. "You really want to take this chance?"

"It's the right thing to do, Carley."

"Fine. She can come with us."

"I know you're worried about the baby coming, Christa," Lee said, placing a hand on Christa's shoulder. "I promise I'll keep an eye on her."

"So will I. And if she tries anything" Carley said, a hand resting on her gun. "I won't miss."