Clementine felt a jolt shoot up her spine. She tried standing up but her limbs wouldn't move. She tried screaming but there was no noise. Suddenly, she was falling through nothingness. Terror washed over her body, her heart pounding against her chest as she could hear something in the distance. It was an unbridled yelling that got louder and louder, filling Clem with terror until she felt like she was going to explode, then something grabbed her.

"Clem!" Blinking her eyes, Clem saw Horatio kneeling in front of her. "Clem," he repeated. "It's okay."

"Huh?" Clem felt something wriggling in her lap and looked down to find Omid. He was staring up at her, whimpering very loudly as he tugged on her arm with both hands.

"You nodded off," said Horatio. "I guess you were having a nightmare and startled him." Looking around, Clem was sitting in a chair in a cramped hallway. Sabriya and Dilawar were seated across from her while Eskiya was leaning against the wall next to them. They were all looking at Clem. "Do you want me to hold him for a while?"

Clem looked down at Omid, then back up at Horatio. "Sure." Horatio inched in close and Omid's whimpering grew even louder. "It's okay," assured Clem as she gently patted his head. "I'm okay now." Omid settled but still looked worried as Horatio carried him back to his seat. Clem looked aside for a second then turned back to Horatio.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Probably like… ten minutes?"

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" asked Clem in a harsh tone.

"I… figured you could use the sleep," said Horatio. "Also it's not like you missed anything. We're all still just waiting for Sarah to finish her turn talking to these council people."

Clem's eyes shifted to a pair of dark wooden double doors. One by one they had been called into that room to speak with Fair Haven's leaders. It had been a long and slow process that the others insisted was more tedious than anything. Clem still dreaded when it was her turn. It filled her with an anxiety that brewed up in her stomach, making her sick. So much so that it followed her into her very dreams just now.

"Everything okay over here?" Clem turned her head to see the one-eyed woman from the first night approaching the group.

"I think he's just restless," said Horatio as he cradled Omid. "We all are."

"Yeah, sorry about that," said the one-eyed guard. "It's been a while since we've had an entire group of people come to town, and this is the first time anyone has brought us a guide to all this insanity."

Clem looked over at Eskiya. He appeared lost in thought, which was unusual for him. So was him giving away his copy of the Outbreak Survival Guide. Sarah had suggested that on the first day and Clem convinced her it was better if these people didn't know how to get past the dead. The next day she discovered Eskiya of all people had volunteered his copy to one of the guards. It made her suspicious that he was plotting something, although what exactly she didn't know.

"Getting past the dead has been a constant struggle for all of us. Then you people show up with a book that says we can walk right past them if we smear some of their guts on us," said the guard. "Lot of arguing amongst the council that night, some of them thought you people were trying to trick us. Then we tested it ourselves, found out it works, and there was a completely different set of arguments last night."

"Yeah, we went through the same thing ourselves when we first read it," said Dilawar.

"Read it? I thought you people wrote this book?"

"We didn't," clarified Sabriya. "Clem knew the person who did though."

"Is that true?" Clem looked over to see the guard was staring at her now.

"When I go in there, are they gonna ask me about that?" asked Clem.

"They might."

"Then I'll tell them," said Clem as she turned away. "Whoever you are."

"Bart," she introduced. "Remember?"

"Isn't that a boy's name?" mocked Clem.

"Isn't Clem a boy's name?" Clem stared petulantly at Bart. "Bartolina," she said with a smile. "Speaking of names, you two were telling me your parents fought over what to name you?" asked Bart as she approached Sabriya and Dilawar.

"Mom wanted to give us Syrian names, Dad wanted to give us Afghani names," explained Dilawar.

"They eventually compromised; dad named him Dilawar and mom named me Sabriya," she explained. "Although she was born in Michigan, I'm not sure if she ever stepped foot in Syria."

"What about your dad?" asked Bart.

"Teacher from Afghanistan," answered Dilawar. "His brother was already here applying for citizenship and recommended him for refugee status."

"He was always trying to make plans to go home, visit the rest of his family,' said Sabriya. "Then everything went to hell."

Clem inched over to a window and peered outside. There wasn't much for her to see. They had been driven here in a car and then hurried into this small building before Clem could get a good look at anything. All she could see from the window was a big warehouse with a tall fence casting shadows in the waning afternoon light. It felt like she was back at Shaffer's all over again, and she hated it.

"Your dad sounds a little like our resident therapist," said Bart. "She's actually from California but her parents were Palestinian and she's got a lot of family back there," explained Bart. "She's still holding out hope she can get back there someday."

"How?" Clem turned away from the window and looked at Eskiya. "How would they get across the Atlantic, or even to the other side of the country?"

"Um… I think it's a distant hope," said Bart. "Like maybe something she could do in several years… if things get better."

Eskiya stared at Bart. "Oh."

"Where did you say you're from?" asked Bart.

"Wisconsin," he said as he turned away.

"So how does your council make decisions about us?" asked Sabriya. "About who can stay and who can't?"

"And when?" added Dilawar. "I mean, it's taken three days just to meet these people."

"Well, we've had a lot to consider, what with your Wisconsin friend giving us that 'Outbreak Guide'." Clem looked at Eskiya again, wondering if him giving away the guide was his way to secure himself here in Fair Haven over the others.

"Easy there Omid." Clem looked over to see Omid desperately trying to pull away from Horatio's grip. Clem was shocked as Omid actually slipped free of Horatio entirely and landed feet first on the floor. Clem opened her arms as he hurried over to her.

"Come here," said Clem as she picked Omid up, examining him for signs of distress. "What's wrong?" Omid leaned forward and put his arms around Clem.

"I think he's just worried about you, Clem," said Horatio as Omid hugged her. "I am too. You spend almost all your time practicing with that fire-starting thing."

"It's a bow drill," informed Clem. "And we all should be practicing how to start a fire."

"We should also be getting some sleep while we can too."

"Sarah doesn't know what she's talking about," dismissed Clem.

"I didn't mention Sarah."

"But she's the one who told you I'm not getting enough sleep."

"Clem, I've been staying in the same house as you," reminded Horatio. "Every morning I see you staring out the front window."

"Someone has to keep watch," retorted Clem.

"All night?" challenged Horatio.

"Yes!" Omid started whimpering as Clem raised her voice. She held him tighter and started rubbing his back. "You remember Reno?" Clem asked in a hushed voice. "If I had been asleep we'd all be dead right now. Someone has to keep an eye out."

"And it has to be you?" challenged Horatio.

"No one else is going to do it."

"I will." Clem was surprised to hear Horatio say that. "If I keep watch tonight, will you go to bed when the sun goes down?"

"I… I'll think about it," she mumbled as she felt Omid tensing up in her grip. Clem turned to look out the window again. One of the warehouse's rolling doors was open now and she saw someone moving in front of it. She tried to lean in for a better look but Omid clung to her in a way that made it impossible to lean forward. As she turned away, she could see Bart moving away from the group to meet with a new person coming in the front door.

"Could… could you hold him again?" Clem asked Horatio.

"Sure." Omid whimpered slightly as Clem handed him back to Horatio but he didn't resist. Standing up, Clem inched closer to Bart and the other woman. She was middle-aged with dark hair that was graying on the ends. Clem recognized her as one of the guards outside their house on the second day. She had an irritable expression on her face then and a similar expression now that made it clear she'd rather not be here right now.

"What's up Margo?" said Bart to the woman.

"Zeke sent me to take over your shift." Clem turned away when she saw Margo looking in her direction. "Jesus, they're still not done with these people?"

"Lot for them to talk about," spoke an enthusiastic Bart. "On top of that guide, we've got a soldier, a firefighter, and an actual doctor. Can you believe it? We finally found a damn doctor."

"And a pile of damn kids." Clem inched a bit closer, wanting to be sure she was hearing Margo correctly. "Three more mouths to feed, with a fourth one on the way."

Clem found herself glaring at Margo. She was talking in a hushed voice so the others wouldn't hear her, but Clem heard her words perfectly, and the contempt in her voice when she said 'mouths to feed'.

"Your compassion is inspiring," spoke Bart with a sarcastic tone as she walked away. "Can't wait to see your campaign slogan."

"Keep laughing cyclops," said Margo as she fumbled through her pockets. "You city people are gonna bleed us dry with your bleeding heart bullshit." Margo suddenly looked over at Clem. "What you staring at?" Clem didn't answer; she had nothing to say to this woman. "Go sit down."

Clem slowly returned to her seat as Margo followed right behind her. Sitting down, Clem found Omid immediately grabbing at her legs. She picked him up as Margo pulled a lighter and a thin, metal case from her pocket. Clem watched as she removed a crude-looking cigarette from the case. It appeared handmade, not like the ones Patty used to smoke.

"How much longer is this going to take?" asked Clem as she wrapped her arms around Omid. "We've been here for like an hour now." Margo didn't respond. She planted a cigarette between her lips and lit it. The smell singed Clem's nostrils; it smelled bad like the cigarettes Patty would smoke. "Do you have to do that right here? I've got a baby."

Margo looked over at Clem suddenly, cigarette still in her mouth, her eyes brimming with irritation and resentment; Clem offered her the same.

"Margo." Clem looked over to see the double doors they had been seated in front of were suddenly opened. There was a short, older man with glasses standing in front of them. "File this." The man held out a manilla folder. Margo looked at the man for a second, then took the folder. Clem watched as she moved to the end of the hall. Margo put away her lighter and pulled out a key as she opened a metal door beside the entrance.

"Sarah!" said Horatio. "Are you okay?"

Omid suddenly pulled free from Clem's grip. She turned her head in time to see him hurrying over to Sarah. She was standing at the door, tears streaming down her face as she rubbed her eyes. Clem burst out of her seat and rushed over to Sarah as she covered her face, trying to stifle her cries.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem, panic gripping her every muscle. "What… what did they do to you?" asked Clem, her voice shaking as she was barely able to maintain a whisper.

"Nothing," said Sarah as she wiped her eyes.

"Nothing?" repeated Clem. "You're crying."

"I just… I got kind of emotional," explained Sarah, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke.

"Why?" asked Horatio as the others stood up and approached her. "What happened?"

"Nothing," repeated Sarah, sounding irritated. "Just… when they asked me if I had anything to say… I guess I had a lot I wanted to tell them."

"About what?" asked Clem. "What did you say?"

"Just… where we've been, and all the stuff we've been through, the things we've seen," said Sarah. "I was telling them about New Orleans and then I remembered I took a picture of it when we were there and one of them wanted to look at our photos."

"They… they want to see our photos?" asked Clem, feeling deeply unsettled by this revelation.

"And then I was telling them, we've come so far and everything is so bad and…" Sarah started tearing up again and Clem moved in to hug her, only to bump into something as she moved her leg. It was Omid, tightly holding Sarah's leg and whimpering in distress.

"It's okay," said Sarah as she knelt down to put an arm around him. "I'm all right," she said, forcing herself to calm down.

"You, Clementine, right?" Clem looked over to the elderly man in the glasses. "It's your turn now."

Clementine felt her hands trembling upon hearing that. She looked over at Sarah, desperate for escape.

"It'll be okay," she said. "You just answer a few questions and then we'll go home for the day."

"We'd all like to go home," said the elderly man. "So if you would." He gestured inside and Clem slowly began marching forward. The room wasn't very big, looking like a small office with a single chair in the middle. There was a short table to the left and another, longer table at the very end of the room. Behind that one sat five people barely visible in the dim light seeping into the room. Clem was about to move in for a better look when she heard a bang from behind.

"All right, let's finish up and call it a night." Clem looked over her shoulder to see the elderly man moving away from the now-closed double doors. He went behind the smaller table on Clem's left, sat down in front of a large notebook and picked up a pen.

"Don't be afraid now." spoke a woman's voice. "We're not gonna hurt you." There was a click and a small lantern on the bigger table lit up.

"I thought the days were supposed to be getting longer," griped a balding, middle-aged man on the far left end of the table. His pale face was scrunched up in a way that suggested he both didn't want to be here but also would refuse to leave if asked. "We're past the winter equinox, right?"

"Solstice," corrected the younger man seated next to him. He had dark skin and a short haircut. He had very little expression on his face, making him difficult to read. "The equinox is when the day and night are the same length. That won't happen until we get into March."

"Oh, so it'll be at least another month before it starts getting warmer then," mused a spindly gray-haired woman on the far right end of the table. She looked very tired, wrinkles gathering around her nearly shut eyes. Clem almost wondered if she was half-asleep.

"We're almost done here. Just a bit more and then we can all get some rest," assured the younger woman seated next to her, seemingly noticing the same thing Clem had noticed. She had a white scarf wrapped around her neck and spoke in a very measured tone. It was similar to how Horatio speaks when discussing medical issues, but with a bit more warmth.

"Clementine, I assume?" Clem looked at the person seated in the center of the group. She was an older woman with tanned, leathery skin, short gray hair, and an oddly eager smile. Her eyes were wide open and alert as she awaited an answer. "Or do you prefer Clem?"

"I… uh… Clem's fine," she mumbled in a meek tone as she sat down.

"Well Clem, my name is Ricarda Oakes," she introduced. "Over here we have Jamison and Wes." She gestured to the older man, then the younger one, who nodded at Clem upon hearing his name. "And on my other side." Watching Ricarda cross her right arm in front of her, Clem only just now noticed the woman had only one arm. Her left sleeve was rolled up and pinned against her shoulder. "That's Claudia on the end, and right next to me is Ghalia."

"It's nice to meet you, Clem," said Ghalia with a smile.

"Oh, and that's Mitch." Ricarda pointed at the short, elderly man at the other table, who only barely waved while not looking up from the paper he was writing on. "He's effectively our stenographer."

"Sten… what?"

"Did you ever see a courtroom scene in a movie or TV show and notice a guy typing the whole time?" asked Wes.

"I… I think so."

"That's a stenographer. They write everything down."

"Okay… what do you want from me?" asked Clem bluntly.

"Well Clem, we're the city council for Fair Haven," said Ricarda. "One of our responsibilities is meeting every person who enters town."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"We make it our business to learn as much as we can to protect ourselves. Like from these Vaquero bandits all your friends mentioned." Clem tensed up upon hearing that. "What do you know about them?"

"That they're evil and they deserve to die," answered Clem coldly.

"You know any of their names?" asked Jamison.

"Joe and Jim?" shrugged Clem. "Heard them say those names over their radios once. They never try talking to us… they just shoot at us."

"That's… what the others told us," noted Wes. "Where did they come from?"

"I have no idea," answered an annoyed Clem. "The first time I saw them was in Wyoming. They shot at me just for looking at them, and that was just the first time they tried to kill us. Anything else?"

An awkward pause followed Clem's question.

"Is there anyone you would like to see again?" asked Ghalia.

"What?" asked Clem.

"We've had a lot of people pass through Fair Haven, some of which decided to stay here," she explained. "If you tell us about anyone you've been looking for, we can check our records and see if they're here, or at least if they visited us at some point."

"Just tell us their names," instructed Wes.

"Um, well—"

"But before you do, Sarah already gave us the following names," said Ricarda as she picked up a pad of paper. "Walter DeWitt, Matthew, Byron Waters, Winifred, Aaron, Jamila, Jet Namsing, Patty Owens."

Clem felt herself sinking in her seat as she heard those names read out loud. Each one triggered a memory that provoked an emotion that all rolled into an overwhelming sense of despair and loss. Hearing someone else speak Jet and Patty's names again after so long felt like a couple of daggers straight through the heart.

"She also mentioned a Simon and Hank Manuelito." And hearing those names was like a lead brick to the stomach. "If you don't mind me asking, did you have other encounters with people from the Navajo Nation that Sarah didn't mention?" "No," answered a downcast Clem.

"What about the military?" asked Jamison. "Sarah gave us two soldiers' names: Petty Officer Roy Devlin." Clem was briefly confused to hear that. She only now realized she never learned Devlin's first name. It also surprised her to hear Sarah had mentioned wanting to find him when last Clem remembered, Sarah was convinced Devlin was dead.

"Corporal Cruz."

"What?" asked Clem in shock.

"That's the other soldier Sarah mentioned," clarified Jamison.

"Oh… right."

"Is there something you want to tell us?" Clem eyed Wes, who clearly noticed hearing that name upset her. "If there's anything you want to tell us about any of these people, everything you say in here is kept in privilege."

"What?"

"He means we won't tell others outside this room," explained Ghalia.

"Is there something we need to know about this Corporal Cruz that Sarah didn't tell us?" Clem found Wes's questioning terrifying. Even worse, she couldn't figure out why he was asking it. He had a good poker face. Jamison, who was sitting next to him, didn't; he was suspicious.

"Is… is she here… in this place?"

"We can't tell you that," said Ricarda.

"You just asked if I was looking for people," retorted Clem.

"Yes, but we have a process for this," explained Ricarda. "We want to learn as much as we can before taking action."

"You… you can't tell me if someone's here in this town or not?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"Confidentially goes both ways," said Wes. "If one of these Vaquero you mentioned came to town, and we didn't know who they were, then asked about you, you wouldn't want us telling them you were here, right?"

"I… I guess not."

"It's okay dearie." Clem was baffled to hear a new voice. It came from Claudia, who hadn't spoken since commenting on the weather. "You can tell us. We take care of children here."

Clem wanted to believe her. "I don't have anything to tell you," she said, trying to sound calm. "Sarah was with me when we met all those people and she already told you about them."

"Was there anyone you met without Sarah?" asked Wes.

Clem took a breath and thought hard. "Molly."

"Molly?"

"I don't know her last name," lamented Clem. "She was young, like… probably in her twenties, short blond hair, used this climbing… axe thing."

Clem eyed Mitch as she watched him hastily write something down.

"And what was your relationship with this Molly?" asked Ghalia.

"She helped me and the people I was with back in Savanah… then she just left."

"Savannah?"

"Savannah, Georgia," said Clem.

"Is that where you and Sarah met?"

"No. That was like… nine months before we met. I know because Omid was born not long after I met Sarah."

"Nine months?"

"Maybe eight," said Clem as she rubbed her head. "It feels like forever ago."

"Why don't you start at the beginning," suggested Wes. "Where are you from originally?"

"I was living in Atlanta when things changed," said Clem. "Someone found me, took care of me, and then we spent a few months in a town called Macon. We found a train that still worked, took it to Savanah, and… we couldn't stay there. After that I lived in a cabin in the woods for a while… then I met Sarah. That's it," spoke a weary Clem.

"That's it?" repeated Jamison. "What about after that?"

"I was with Sarah after that, and you already talked to her," retorted Clem.

"And you were never apart? There's nothing—"

Ricarda held up her hand and Jamison stopped speaking. "Normally, we want to get as full an account as possible from everyone before they arrive in Fair Haven, but in light of everything we've already learned and how long this meeting has gone on, I propose we just limit ourselves to whatever Clementine feels comfortable discussing for tonight."

"Whatever I feel comfortable about?" repeated Clem.

"Is there anything you want to tell us?" asked Ghalia. "It can just be how you're feeling right now."

"Maybe more about where you've been?" suggested Jamison. "You've crossed the entire country. I think you and Sarah are the first people here who could say that. She told us about New Orleans being abandoned and some kind of attack on Houston. What else did you see?"

Clem racked her tired mind for something to say.

"I… I saw parking lots, lots of them," she said. "And run-down buildings. Just… everywhere we went it was just another big graveyard and all we had was this RV to keep everything out, but it couldn't. Every time we stopped something would break or stop working, we'd get attacked, and one day we were run right off the road by people trying to kill us. Then we had to ride into the cold, in winter, Omid almost died from pneumonia and… walkers."

"Walkers?" repeated Ricarda.

"That's what I call them, because they never stop walking. It doesn't matter how much smarter or faster you are, they never give up. They're always out there, wandering around, waiting to kill you. It's the only thing they do. They were everywhere in Vernal and we were so tired and…" Clem found herself rubbing the stumps that were her pinky and ring finger, the pain of them being shot off seeping back into the broken bones in her hand.

"And then there's people…" Clem felt her chest tightening. "Every time we found someone alive, I was worried they'd try to kill us. Some of them did try. We… we were lucky no one has killed us yet, but every time it happened, I could see it more in my mind. See Omid crying as a garbage truck just crushed him, or Sarah being tortured or… someone shooting me in the head," rambled Clem in a nervous whisper.

"And then I remember the monsters out there, the real ones, the ones that aren't walkers but try to eat you anyway. The ones that hang you because you're hungry, or rape you because they can, and there's nothing you can do and you have to kill them before they kill you! I… I…"

"It's okay," Clem heard a firm but friendly voice say to her. She wiped her eyes and saw Ghalia had left her seat and was standing right in front of her now. She knelt down and very gently put her hand on Clem's shoulder. "You're safe here."

"I don't believe that," said Clem in no uncertain terms.

"I understand; you're in a room surrounded by strangers, in a town you've never seen before," spoke Ghalia. "What can we do, right now, to make you feel safer?"

"Let me leave," insisted Clem.

"Okay." Ghalia let go of Clem and took a step back. "Ricarda, she can leave, right?"

"I think we've taken enough of your time tonight," said Ricarda. "Unless anyone has any more questions, I—"

"Who did you kill?"

Those words cut through Clem like a knife.

"Wuh… what?" mumbled Clem.

"At the end, you said you had to kill them," said Wes. "Who's them?"

"You don't have to answer that," asserted Ricarda.

"She killed somebody and you don't want to know who?" asked Jamison.

"She just said someone tried to rape her and kill her baby," retorted Ricarda in a harsh tone. "Who do you think she killed?"

"Did they have a name?" pressed Jamison.

"We will figure that out later," asserted Ricarda. "For now I move to adjourn; all in favor?" Ricarda raised her hand, and then so did Ghalia and Claudia. "Three to two; meeting adjourned."

Mitch moved to open the doors and Clem hurried out of her seat.

"Clementine." Clem froze in place as she heard Ricarda call her name. She turned around to see the old woman standing up, regret pulling at the corners of her wrinkled face. "I'm sorry to put you through all this. Sarah made it clear you and your baby have already suffered a lot. But we'll do everything we can to keep you safe here, I promise."

Clem turned away and hurried back out into the hall.

"Clem!" Clem saw Sarah rushing up to meet and happily threw open her arms. The pair embraced and Clem found herself struggling to get hands all the way around Sarah. "Are you okay?"

"Okay?" repeated Clem.

"You… you're crying."

"No," said Clem, wiping her eyes. "I… I just…"

"Got emotional?" Clem stared at Sarah in confusion. "It's okay," she said with a smile. Clem felt a tug on her leg. It was Omid, hugging her.

"You three will be okay here." Clem turned her head to see Zeke, the town's sheriff standing in the hall. "Like I said before, we never turn away children."

"What about the rest of us?" asked Sabriya. "Are you going to let us stay here too?"

"That's not up to me," said Zeke.

"The sheriff doesn't get a say on who stays in town?" asked Dilawar.

"My job is keeping the peace for whoever's already here," said Zeke. "Who gets to live here is the council's decision."

"We wouldn't be here without them," pleaded Sarah as she approached Zeke. "You gotta let them stay here too."

"Like I said, it's not my call," repeated Zeke. "For now, I'm just gonna take you back home. You all just get some rest for now."

"And in the morning?" asked Eskiya. "What happens then? If they decide we can't stay here, will we be made to leave?"

Zeke hesitated before speaking. "We've got a process for this and usually any decision for new arrivals is just the first of many. We're not just gonna toss you out without any notice. And with what you folk know about getting around the dead, you'll almost certainly have some options. You probably could be a big help around here."

"Is that how it's decided? It's just how useful we are to you?" asked Horatio, a bit of irritation slipping into his voice. "What if—"

"Please, no more questions right now," spoke Zeke in a polite tone. "I know you've got a lot more, but I assure you, whatever they are will be easier to answer in the morning."

As Zeke was speaking, Mitch had emerged from the meeting room. He moved past Zeke and handed another folder to Margo. She carried it over to the metal door near the entrance and disappeared into the room behind it.

"Come on, I'll drive you all back to the half-way houses."

Zeke moved towards the exit and the group followed him. Clem felt herself drawn towards the metal door as they walked past it but felt Sarah literally pulling her towards the exit. Stepping outside, the cold air sent shivers across Clem's body like ripples across a pond. No amount of bundling up ever stopped that oppressive chill from seeping in. It felt like sandpaper slowly being dragged across her skin. Clem moved in closer to Sarah and Omid, hoping to steal a bit of their warmth.

"I know you said no more questions, but I just gotta ask," Dilawar said to Zeke as they reached the road. "What the hell kind of car is this?"

Clem eyed the vehicle in question. It just looked like a silver four-door family car to her. Beyond the fact it was dirty, it seemed unremarkable.

"It's a Skoda Octavia," answered Zeke.

"A what?"

"Some foreign brand I never heard of before Ricarda's people brought it here," said Zeke.

"Why are you driving it of all things?" asked Dilawar.

"Cause it has a diesel engine and gets forty miles to the gallon."

Dilawar's jaw dropped upon hearing that. "You serious?"

"Well it did, less so these days. Still, never thought I'd be so grateful for a station wagon made in the Czech Republic," said Zeke as he looked at Clem, Sarah and Omid. "I'll take the kids and the doctor back first, then—"

Sarah suddenly started groaning and clutched her stomach.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"It's…" Sarah trailed off.

"What?" said Clem, her hands trembling. "Tell me."

Sarah leaned in close and whispered. "I have really bad gas."

"Oh…" Clem looked over to Zeke. "Is there a bathroom we can use?"

"Yeah, head back inside and just follow the hall to the end past the meeting room," instructed Zeke. "There's a couple of buckets of water next to the tank you can use to flush it. I'll take the rest of you back while they're here. Sound good?"

Zeke looked at Clem for a sign of approval and she just gave him a shrug. Sabriya, Dilawar and Eskiya got into the car with Zeke while Clem followed Sarah, who hurried back into the building. Omid started moaning as they headed out of the cold and into a drafty building. He was tired, and so was Clem. She barely was able to keep up as she saw Sarah round a corner at the end of the hall. Clem pulled Omid along and got to the end of the hall just in time to see Sarah slam a door behind her. Clem just sighed to herself as she heard Omid's whimpering getting louder.

"He probably wants to get off his feet." Clem turned her head to see Horatio behind her. "Want me to carry him for a little while, give him a break?"

"Sure." Clem knelt down to look Omid in the eye. He appeared worried, which sadly seemed to be his typical expression nowadays. "You be good for Horatio, okay?"

Omid didn't respond.

"Come here little guy," said Horatio in a friendly voice as he picked up Omid, who started whimpering. "I know, I know. Sarah won't be long though. Then we can all go home."

Clem groaned to herself upon hearing the word 'home'. As Horatio sat down in one of the chairs, Clem gravitated towards the exit. She cracked the door open and the cold air immediately forced her to close it again. Rubbing her arms trying to get warm, she found her gaze moving to the metal door again. It stood out, like it had replaced whatever door used to be there. Clem wondered what could be so important they'd go to such lengths, then, as if to answer her, the door suddenly swung open.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" asked Margo, the asshole guard from earlier. She marched right over to where Clem was standing, a nasty look on her hateful face.

"Sarah had to use the bathroom," retorted Clem through clenched teeth. "Now we're waiting for Zeke to come get us."

Margo stared at Clem with clear resentment, and Clem did the same in return. Eventually, Margo moved away from Clem and went back into the meeting room, closing the doors behind her. After a brief silence, Clem looked at the metal door again. She inched over to it, then stopped to look over her shoulder. Clem saw Horatio trying to play peekaboo with Omid, which just seemed to confuse him to no end.

Clem moved up to the door, put her hand on the knob and gave it a turn; it wasn't locked. She didn't open it yet, instead, she looked over her shoulder again. No sign of Sarah, Margo or anyone else beyond Omid and Horatio. The former just kept giving the latter a baffled look, as if to ask Horatio why does he keep hiding his face behind his hands. Clem slid the door open slightly and looked inside. It was a small dark room, no bigger than a large closet, and every wall was neatly lined with file cabinets.

One file cabinet near the door had a drawer that was ajar, and a single folder poking slightly above the others. After another look over her shoulder confirmed nothing changed, Clem slid her hand inside and tugged on the folder; it was labeled 'Clementine'. She carefully opened it and glanced at what was inside. The first page was a description of her, mentioning her eye color, hair color, height, and age. She wasn't sure how they knew that last one; did Sarah tell them?

The next page was some kind of transcript of what she said in the meeting room. She figured this was what Mitch was writing down the whole time. The third and final page had the words 'FOLLOW UP' printed at the top. Below it was written: Atlanta, Macon, Savannah, rapists' names, victim's name, Molly, Corporal Cruz. Clem's hands trembled as she shut the folder. She carefully slid it back in place where she found it.

She was about to shut the door when she noticed the name on the folder in front of hers was 'Clement'. Every name in this drawer started with a 'C' and they were alphabetized. Clem pulled the drawer out and started hastily eyeing her way through the folders. She slowed when she saw 'Courtney', fearful she might skip over 'Corporal'. Clem's eyes then fell upon 'Craig' and she stopped. Her heart was pounding against her chest as she pulled the drawer out a little further to see the folders past that one.

"What the hell are you doing?" Clem spun around upon hearing Margo's voice, but never saw her coming. "You little bastard!" Clem felt her leg pulled out from under her and hit the floor with a painful thud. Before she could react she felt a knee pressed against her back and a sharp pain as Margo yanked her left hand awkwardly behind her back.

"No! Get off of me!" yelled Clementine as Margo wrenched her right hand backwards. "Get off of me!" she yelled as she felt cold metal clasping around her wrists followed by a sickening click.