"Up here on the right," said Deacon as he watched things from over Sarah's shoulder. "Just bring us to a stop outside that gate." Clementine watched as Sarah moved the Brave towards the shoulder, stopping near a black iron gate nestled in-between thick bushes and overgrown grass. Trying to peer past the gate, Clem only saw tall grass obscuring her view of a two-story home.

"They went out yesterday, so they're probably in today," said Deacon as Sarah parked the Brave.

"Who?" asked Sarah.

"A couple of scavengers," said Deacon. "They're usually good on food but I heard one of them complaining about not finding any bullets in a long time."

"And you think they'll give us some food for these bullets?" asked Clem as she eyed the ammunition sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Maybe, I know they keep a lot of different guns around because they're always running out of ammo, so it's a good bet."

Clem grabbed her backpack and starting loading the seven boxes of bullets into it. She packed three boxes before stopping, then emptied her bag of all but a single box.

"Shouldn't you take them all?" asked Sarah. "Wouldn't we get more if you did?"

"Let's see how much one box will get us first, then I'll think about trading the others," said Clem as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and moved towards the door. "These people aren't going to hurt us or anything, are they?" Clem asked Deacon.

"I can't imagine why," shrugged Deacon. "And anything I see I tell to Tanner, so it'd be stupid if they tried anything."

Clem looked at Sarah. "Just keep the door locked."

"I will," assured Sarah.

"I'll be right back, hopefully with food." Clem unlocked the door and stepped outside. Deacon walked ahead of Clem, moving towards the gate. Seeing it up close, Clem noticed that each bar of the gate had been wrapped in barbed wire. "Are you sure it's okay for us to be here?" she asked.

"They haven't had to use this thing in ages." Deacon very carefully grabbed a small section of the gate not covered in barbed wire and pulled it open. Moving inside, Clem could see a bundle of chains and locks piled up on the lawn next to the gate. Seeing the grass growing through the links in the chains made it clear they've been undisturbed for a long time.

"Come on." Moving with Deacon, Clem walked along a worn driveway up towards a spacious two-story house with boarded up windows that were surrounded by bullet holes. Tall grass surrounded the path and a few bold weeds had even sprouted from the cracks in the asphalt. The air was also muggy and contained a hint of salt that irritated Clem's nostrils.

"It's really hot today," said Clem as she felt the afternoon sun bearing down on her.

"Is it?" asked Deacon. "I thought it was a little cool today actually."

"The last few days were cool."

"No, they were freezing. That was a really freaky cold snap we had." Deacon walked up to the front door, which had deep cracks running all the way down it. "Rhonda? Howard? You guys in there?" Deacon knocked and Clem listened closely for an answer, but she didn't hear one.

"They might be around back." Deacon motioned to Clem and they started moving alongside the house. Looking to her right, Clem spotted palm trees on the lawn. She also noticed a row of stumps that suggested there used to be many more trees here. Arriving behind the building, Clem found a half-full in-ground swimming pool. Looking around, the girl also spotted half a dozen metal kegs all suspended directly over improv fire pits that were set up next to the pool.

"Not boiling water, they might be on the dock."

"Dock?" Again, Clem followed Deacon, this time leading her far past the edge of the house and towards the water. There she found a long narrow dock that stretched out far past the shore, which Deacon started heading across. Looking out over the water, Clem thought it looked a little more like a swamp than a river. It was green, murky, and a faint but foul odor hung in the air. The smell of salt was more pungent now too, making Clem wonder if this really was a river again.

Looking up, Clem was surprised to see just how far this dock stretched out. The water became darker and bluer as they kept moving further away from the shore. The air was a little cooler out on the dock and the sound of the water churning under her feet was oddly soothing. In the distance, Clem could see an island. It wasn't like the massive one that stretched across the length of the river, this one was closer and much smaller, being just a chunk of green land that bobbed its head above the water. Looking close, Clem could see what appeared to be small docks lining this island's shore.

Reaching the end of the dock she was on, Clem arrived on a platform that had a boat tied to it. Walking alongside the vessel, the girl was a surprised by how long it was, stretching far beyond the end of the dock. It had to be at least twice as long as the boat she had found in Savannah and had three separate motors hanging off the back of it. A thick blue striped ran across the length of the vehicle and the word "Intrepid" was stamped on its side in white letters.

"Howard?" Deacon's call brought Clem's attention to the person standing at what she assumed were the boat's controls.

"What's Tanner want?" Studying the man, Clem could see he looked around middle-age and had thinning gray hair.

"Tanner doesn't want anything, but I was wondering if you and Rhonda still needed ammunition?"

"I'd have to ask her." Howard stepped away from the controls, revealing himself to be a fairly thin and meek looking individual, not much bigger than Deacon or Patty. He seemed to be wearing an expensive dress shirt so worn out that it had long since lost any sense of status it may have once projected.

"Yesterday was a total failure, so I'm not sure what Rhonda wants to do next." Clementine watched as Howard looked in her direction, letting the girl see the bags around the man's eyes and the wrinkles on his face. "Don't tell me Tanner is using even younger kids now?"

"Nah, she's just with some new people looking to trade some extra bullets for something to eat," explained Deacon.

"Why don't you just come aboard and ask Rhonda herself?" said Howard as he wandered back over to the controls, sounding barely awake as he did. "I've got a lot I need to check."

Clementine watched as Deacon hopped the gap over the water and landed on the back of the boat. He then turned and held out his hand as Clem examined the distance between the edge of the dock and the boat. "Come on, it's not too far." Clem stretched out her hand and grabbed Deacon's, feeling the young man's grip tighten as she made contact. The girl jumped towards the boat and felt a strong tug that pulled her forward. "Easy." Clem felt Deacon gripping her shoulder as she nearly tripped as she landed.

"Thanks." Looking down, Clem saw numerous open panels revealing compartments in the deck. Following Deacon, she navigated past the minor pitfalls, passing by Howard as he fiddled with an exposed panel underneath a large metal steering wheel surrounded by gauges and buttons. Edging past the helm, Clem found herself moving into an open lounge area near the front of the boat. There were long padded benches on the edges of the area and a cover running overhead.

"Come on," said Deacon as he moved to the front of the lounge.

"Come on where?" asked a confused Clem. "Where are we going?"

"Down below." Deacon approached a blank section between the benches that bordered the bow of the ship and tugged on it, revealing it to be a door. "Come on."

Following Deacon past the hidden door and down a few steps, Clem was surprised to find herself standing in some fairly lavish living quarters. Directly ahead were more padded benches, this time centered around an angular table surrounded by small windows. On her right was a kitchen counter with a microwave nestled between the cabinets hanging above it. And on her left an open door leading to a small but stylish bathroom not much bigger than a closet. Like the Brave, it felt like an entire house built into a relatively small vehicle, only slightly more cramped.

"What are you doing here?" Clementine spun around and discovered a bed sitting in a small area tucked in behind the stairs she had walked down a moment ago, and lying on that bed was a middle-aged woman staring at Clem and Deacon. She had sharp brown eyes that felt like they were piercing Clem and a disgruntled grimace was hanging off her tired face.

"I don't suppose Chilton changed her mind?" The woman grumbled to herself as she sat up. "I lived here first and yet that two-faced snake has the gall to tell me I'm not welcome on 'her' island."

"I wouldn't know Rhonda, I just came by to ask if you'd be willing to trade for bullets?"

Rhonda's eyes perked up upon hearing that. "Tanner's actually trading his ammo?"

"Not Tanner, her." Deacon pointed at Clem.

"This girl?" asked a skeptical Rhonda.

"She's with some others that just arrived in town and they wanted to know if you'd be willing to trade bullets for food."

"Well that depends," said Rhona as she squeezed out of the space behind the stairs. "How many bullets are we talking about?"

Looking up at the thin woman as she crossed her arms, Clem found herself intimidated. Rhonda practically towered over her and Deacon both, her fine clothing wasn't nearly as worn as Howard's, and the lavish rings and necklace she wore all broadcast a sense of confidence that made Clem feel even smaller by comparison.

"Well? I'm a busy woman, so do you have something for me or not?" asked an impatient Rhonda.

"I… I have a box of bullets," said Clem as she removed her backpack.

"What kind?"

"Um, let me check." Clem fished out the bullets and found it snatched from hand before she could even offer it to Rhonda.

"Twenty-two's?" Rhonda examined the box, then headed up the stairs.

"Hey!" Clem ran up after the woman, Deacon trailing right behind her.

"Howard," said Rhonda as she walked across the deck. "Can you remember if we have a rifle that uses these?"

"I don't know," answered Howard without looking away from the panel he was tinkering with.

"You didn't even look at it," said Rhonda.

"I'm sure there's at least one gun stashed in the house somewhere that probably uses whatever you're holding," grumbled Howard as he fiddled with some knobs. "You're the one who insists on bringing back every gun we find, why are you asking me?"

"I just thought I'd ask because you're the one who usually loads them," retorted Rhonda.

"Well right now I'm the one trying to figure out why this 'mistake' isn't getting better mileage," snapped Howard.

"And how are you coming with that?" challenged Rhonda.

"A lot better if you'd just let me work."

"I'm telling you, it's the motors," insisted Rhonda.

"I'm telling you, it's not," parroted Howard.

"How would you know? You're not a mechanic."

"Well maybe if you hadn't pissed off the only mechanic on this side of the shore, we could ask one!"

"It's not my fault Patty can't tell time. Besides, what does she know?" dismissed Rhonda. "Once Chilton lets Arnie look at it—"

"Chilton's not going to let her guy work on it because you pissed her off too," reminded an irritable Howard. "You have a real knack for it."

"Well I'm sorry for keeping the two of us alive!" shouted Rhonda. "If it were up to you, you'd let everyone who blew into town walk all over us until we had nothing left!"

"If it were up to me, we never would have refused Chilton's offer in the first place!"

"If it were up to you we both would have died long before Chilton's people ever came here!" Rhonda strolled past Howard and leapt onto the dock. "But keep complaining about how I'm keeping you alive like I always do." Rhonda suddenly looked at Clem. "Well come on, I thought you said you wanted to trade?"

Clem hurried off the boat, following after Rhonda as she marched down the dock.

"Go head!" yelled Howard in the distance. "I'll be here working on the 'mistake' you didn't want me to get that's kept us alive for over a year now!"

"Buying that stupid yacht was a mistake!" Rhonda yelled back without slowing down. "The world just happened to end before we went bankrupt trying to pay it off!"

Clementine and Deacon hurried after Rhonda, who marched along at a fierce pace. She headed right up to the back of the house, pulled a ring of keys from her pocket, and unlocked the door.

"Don't touch anything!" griped Rhonda as she marched inside. "And wipe your feet on the mat." Clem stopped long enough to brush her shoes off on the welcome mat, then rushed in after Rhonda. Looking at the door from the other side, Clem saw it had been reinforced with an extra layer of plywood and sported catches to hold what Clem could only assume would be a a board or something else to barricade the door.

Venturing further inside, Clem was surprised to see how neat and clean this house was. Other than the containers stacked up in the halls, the lack of electricity, and the boarded up windows only letting in slivers of light, this home would look right at place before the walkers came. The were even paintings and pictures hanging on the walls. Stopping to examine one, she saw a younger photo of the couple smiling on a beach at sunset.

"In here!" Clem looked over to see Rhonda gesturing towards her. The girl ran ahead and found herself emerging into a luxurious kitchen. It had a massive counter and every appliance a kitchen could ever need. The only thing it was missing was any shred of food, appearing completely sanitary from top to bottom.

Clem watched as Rhonda moved to a pantry that had two padlocks on the door and pulled her keys again. Watching Rhonda open the door, Clem noticed these locks clearly weren't part of the house originally, having been drilled into the wood at crooked angles.

"All right, let's see what we got." Clem watched with great anticipation as Rhonda pulled the door open. Much to the girl's disappointment, there was no food in the pantry either; its shelves were stuffed with a wide variety of guns instead of canned goods. Rhonda grabbed the nearest rifle and laid it out on the kitchen counter. Clem couldn't help noticing the rifle's stock had 'Property of Rhonda & Howard' hand painted on it in surprisingly elegant lettering. After removing the gun's magazine, Rhonda tore off the edge of the box of bullets.

"Hey!" called Clem.

"I thought you wanted to trade?" retorted Rhonda as she opened the box.

"I do, but you haven't given me anything yet," said Clem.

"Well I got to make sure we can use these," insisted Rhonda as she removed a bullet from the box.

"Rhonda," said Deacon. "I should be holding onto that before—" Rhonda shrugged off Deacon's attempt to take the bullet and threaded it into the rifle's magazine. It fit neatly, and after loading the magazine into the gun, Rhonda cocked the weapon. "I'll give you a can of something for them," said Rhonda as she reached for another bullet.

"No way!" Clem snatched the box off the counter before Rhonda could take another round from it.

"Hey, you were the one saying you wanted to trade," reminded Rhonda as she spun around.

"I want more than just one can of food," demanded Clem.

"Well too bad, because that's my final offer," retorted Rhonda.

"Then give me back the bullet you took, because I'm leaving."

The woman glared at Clementine; anger in her eyes, a twisted scowl on her face, and a now loaded rifle clutched in her hands. A chill shot up Clem's spine as Rhonda stared her down.

"If she doesn't want trade then she doesn't want to trade," said Deacon, struggling to speak in something louder than a whisper. "So you need to give her bullet back or I'll have to get Tanner and—"

"Two cans, that's all I can spare. Deal?" Clem had noticed Rhonda's face dropped upon hearing Tanner's name and she sounded eager to complete the transaction now.

"No," said Clem as she crossed her arms, sensing an opportunity.

"Don't be greedy, that's a fair offer."

"I'm not greedy, and it's not fair. I can find food in lots of places. Not much, but—"

"You can find food?" repeated Rhonda, scoffing at the notion.

"The people I'm with can, and easier than we can get more bullets," said Clem. "So unless you give us enough to eat for a little while, we'd rather have the bullets, because we can use them to get more than two cans of food."

"I don't believe this, a kindergartener is trying to extort me," growled Rhonda.

"You want those bullets? I want more food," dictated Clem.

"Who do you think you are?" snarled Rhonda. "Do you have—"

"Rhonda," interrupted Deacon. "Do you have another offer for her? Because if not we need that bullet back."

Rhonda glared at Deacon, practically heaping contempt on the young man, but eyeing the blue jacket he was wearing, a sense of resignation swept over Rhonda's face.

"I let you fill up that backpack you're wearing with food, and I get to keep the bullets. Deal?" proposed Rhonda, barely beating back her frustration.

"What kind of food?" asked Clem.

"I don't know, I'll grab something from the basement and—"

"I want to pick." Clem found herself taking a step back as an infuriated Rhonda took several steps closer to her, looming over the girl.

"Look you little brat," snarled Rhonda. "I'm offering you a much better deal than you deserve, so why don't you shut up and take it already?"

The hostility brewing over in Rhonda's every word frightened Clem. Unlike Patty, Clem was becoming nervous Rhonda might actually attack her. Glancing over at Deacon, Clem noticed he appeared scared too, but eyeing his jacket and remembering how much scarier Tanner was, Clem turned back to Rhonda.

"I get to pick or you don't get the bullets," she stated as confidently as she could.

"Why you—"

"Someone I'm with is a picky eater," blurted out Clem.

"A picky eater?" repeated Rhonda in disbelief. "Is that supposed to—"

"Because he has allergies," added Clem. "I have to make sure whatever I get won't hurt him."

"Then tell me what his allergies are and I'll—"

"And he needs certain other foods to keep him healthy," said Clem.

"I can—"

"You let me pick what I want or I'm not giving you the bullets." Clem found herself gravitating towards Deacon after she said that, hoping somehow his meager position of authority would shield her from Rhonda's hateful stare. Looking at Rhonda, the woman rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "Now hand them over."

"Deacon's supposed to hold onto them," reminded Clem as she passed the box to the young man. "Until the deal is finished."

Rhonda stared at Deacon, who just meekly pocketed the bullets. "Fine!" Rhonda rushed back to the pantry and threw the gun on a shelf. The woman slammed the door, hastily locked it, then raced into the hall. "Well, are you coming?" Clementine ran after the woman, following her down another hall until arriving at another door, this time with four padlocks.

"Tanner and his little gang of thugs…" Rhonda mumbled to herself as she unlocked the door as quickly as she could. "They horde all the ammo, put on some stupid jackets, and then think they can run everyone's lives." Rhonda threw the door open, revealing a staircase leading down into a dark room. Clem took a step forward, trying to see anything, but there was only pitch blackness.

"Get going!" ordered Rhonda as she grabbed a lantern hanging on the wall next to the door. "The sooner you pick what you want the sooner you can get out of here." Deacon approached the door only for Rhonda to tug him back. "You're not trading so you can stay up here," dictated Rhonda as she moved to the door, placing herself right behind Clementine. "Hurry up."

Clem hesitated to move down the stairs. She looked to Deacon for advice but saw only confusion on his face that signaled he didn't know what to do either. "Do you want your food or not?" Rhonda's question prompted Clem to go downstairs. She only made it a few steps before the door slammed shut and everything went black.

Panic gripped Clementine as she looked around in the empty darkness. She reached for her gun when she felt something move behind her, only to remember it was still in the RV along with her knife. Spinning around she saw Rhonda's face illuminated by the lantern she just turned on, looking more like a ghoul now with such ominous light cast upon her vicious scowl.

"Food's down there," snapped an increasingly impatient Rhonda. Clem started walking down the stairs, still afraid of what she'd find at the bottom. "And to make this perfectly clear, I don't want you telling anyone what you saw down here." Clem swallowed hard upon hearing that, fearing what awaited her. "Enough beggars and thieves have been through this town as it is, I don't need any more."

Reaching the bottom step, Clementine was stunned by what she saw; shelves upon shelves filled to the brim with food—all kinds of food. A selection of canned goods more diverse than she had seen in ages, sacks stacked upon sacks of dried goods, a rainbow of jars stuffed with everything from pickles to jams to nuts; it was like a grocery store built into a basement.

"Where did you get all this?" asked a bewildered Clementine.

"What do you mean?" asked Rhonda. "We earned it, and we were smart about how we used it."

"I thought you said you could only spare two cans," asked Clem as she continued to eye Rhonda's supplies.

"It is all I can spare really, but you twisted my arm," insisted a defensive Rhonda. "And you may think this is a lot, but this is everything we have. And since Chilton insists on spiting me for not submitting to her racket, everything in this room is going to have to last Howard and I until we find more, assuming there's anything left to find at this point."

Moving across the basement, Clementine spotted something round and colorful piled up in a red plastic storage bin. "Are… are these oranges?" Clem asked in disbelief as she grabbed one of the fruits. Even in the low light, Clem could see it was an orange—an actual fresh orange, with ripe skin she could feel at her fingertips. "Where did these come from?"

"Mack's family control an orchard not far from here. They get sick of eating oranges every day, so Howard and I get a lot of them for just a loose can of beans every now and then," bragged Rhonda. "Take as many of those as you want, they're a dime a dozen. Feel free to rid me of some of the dried fish Howard acquired on his last swap while you're at it."

"Fish?" Rhonda pointed to the shelf next to the bin which held several loosely wrapped packages. Peeling back the paper, Clem found a cut open fishing lying inside.

"Take that really big one Howard was so excited to overpay for," suggested Rhonda as she pointed to a massive slab on the shelf above the one Clem was checking. "You'd be doing me a favor by taking it."

"Are these safe to eat?" asked Clem, examining the fish carcass wrapped in paper.

"Supposedly. Howard loves them, probably because he can't fish to save our lives. Personally, I don't trust it."

Clementine turned away from the fish and gravitated back to the oranges. She found it unbelievable she was in the presence of fresh fruit and quickly took off her backpack. Clem packed away half-dozen of the citrus treats before moving onto something else. She decided to pass on the fish for now, electing to grab a small bag of white rice instead. Peaches, pineapples, pears; Clem took a can of each, along with a jar of roasted cashews.

Grabbing everything that caught Clem's eye, the girl didn't even reach the end of the basement before her backpack was stuffed. Looking down into it, Clem tried shuffling things around to make more room, but the bag was already bursting from how many things she packed. Clementine managed to slip a couple of cans of tuna into some thin gaps, but that seemed to claim what little lingering free space was left in the bag.

"It's full!" Clementine spun around to find Rhonda looming over her with her lantern in hand. "Zip it up and get out of my house already." Clem turned back to her bag, disappointed her shopping spree had come to an end, but her backpack truly was full and she struggled to close it. "All right then, off you go."

Clem hoisted the now very heavy bag onto her back and moved up the stairs, finding Deacon waiting patiently just outside. "I'll be taking my bullets now," prompted Rhonda as she approached Deacon, who looked at Clem in response.

"She let me fill my backpack," said Clem. "It's good."

"More than good, I should be made a saint for such obscene generosity," commented Rhonda, snatching the box from Deacon's hand the second he retrieved it. "Now if you're done, kindly—"

"I have six more boxes of bullets I can trade." Rhonda went wide-eyed upon hearing that. "I'll give them to you for six more backpacks full of—"

"Absolutely not!" refuted Rhonda.

"Why not?" asked Clem. "I just—"

"You just swindled me, that's what you did!" accused Rhonda. "Boy, aren't you going to do something about this?"

"About what?" asked a confused Deacon.

"She practically robbed me just now! Isn't this the kind of thing Tanner is supposed to deal with?"

"Rhonda, you agreed to the trade. I—"

"That's before I knew this little brat was a grifter," retorted Rhonda.

"Grifter?" asked Clem.

"I hope you enjoy your one backpack worth of food, because you're never getting that for another box of bullets from me again," dictated Rhonda.

"Well what can I get then?" asked Clem.

"What?" said Rhonda.

"You don't want to give me a whole other backpack for bullets, but you still want them right? So, what would you give me for the six other boxes?"

"Are… are you offering me a bulk discount?" asked Rhonda.

"Um… yeah," said Clem, unsure what Rhonda meant by that. "I wasn't trying to trick you; I just didn't want to trade until I knew it was okay."

"And you getting a better deal by trading only one box first had nothing to do with it?" challenged Rhonda.

"No, and I'll give you a better deal now for the other six if that's what you want."

Rhonda crossed her arms and started tapping her foot impatiently before letting out a long sigh. "Okay, how about…" Rhonda looked around the room. "For the other six, you can fill up one of these." Rhonda dragged a small red plastic bin away from the wall.

"That's not much bigger than my backpack," noted Clem.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's much bigger," insisted Rhonda.

"Not it's not." Clem took off her backpack and set it in the bin. "It's only like twice as big; less than that because the backpack is taller. I couldn't even fit two backpacks in here. You should give me three of these for six boxes of bullets."

"Three? That's absurd! You say you're going to give me a better deal and then you just ask me to swallow the same lousy price as from before?"

"Okay, two bins," proposed Clem. "That's like less than four backpacks."

"Forget it," said Rhonda. "There's fifty bullets in this box. Howard and I can get by with just that for a while. It's not worth—"

"One bin full of stuff I pick and then that one full of oranges." Rhonda's face softened slightly upon hearing that. "You said they're a dime a dozen, so it's not a big deal if I take them, right?"

"Well, I suppose—"

"And that big fish." Rhonda scowled in response. "You said you didn't even want it. So for giving up something you don't want, and a bunch of oranges you don't care about, all you have to give me is one bin of stuff and you'll have a lot more than fifty bullets."

Rhonda craned her head backwards and groaned. She stared up at the ceiling, tapping her fingers against her crossed arm as she pondered Clem's proposal. "Fine," she finally said. "Go get them so I can be done with you already."

Clementine happily skipped back to the Brave, the bulk of her backpack not slowing her down in the least. Delivering the food to Sarah caused Clem's exuberance to become infectious, with the overjoyed older girl suggesting some things Clem should pick out on her second trade.

Returning to Rhonda with the other six boxes, the woman complained that they weren't all the same type of bullets as the ones Clem had given her before. But after convincing Rhonda having more guns to choose from was a good thing, and waiting for Rhonda to confirm she did have a gun for every ammo type Clem brought her, the bullets were handed over to Deacon and Clem began her second shopping spree.

She doubled up on a lot of things she took last time, thinking it'd be nice to have seconds, then started moving to the shelves she didn't get a chance to look at last time. Clem also took great care in packing things in the bin, wanting to squeeze it for every bit of space she could. The girl could tell Rhonda was growing impatient, but she didn't rush, thinking enduring the woman's scorn was a small price to pay to get as much as she could. After nearly filling the container, Clem saw space for one more item. Eyeing the shelves one final time, she settled on a can of jellied cranberry and stuffed it inside.

"The lids have to close," dictated Rhonda as she approached Clem. "If they don't close then you'll have to take stuff out until they do."

The bin didn't have a single lid, but two intersecting ones hinged to the sides, almost like small misshapen wings. Clem had anticipated this demand and had been careful not to stack anything that went over the top of the container. After easily closing the bin, Clem turned around and saw Rhonda seem annoyed that it had been shut so easily.

"Well, I guess you'll be going now, right?" Clem grabbed the bin with both hands, but struggled to lift it. Trying to move upstairs, Clem found she could barely raise the container high enough to clear the first step.

"I guess I'll get it," groaned Rhonda as she took the bin from Clem. The woman seemed to struggle herself carrying Clem's bounty up the stairs, and was eager to pass the duty off to Deacon after arriving at the top of the stairs.

After getting her bullets, Rhonda reluctantly agreed to carry Clem's oranges to the Brave after Deacon pointed out they wouldn't have to make a return trip if she pitched in, which means they could be out of her way a little faster. With Deacon toting the supplies, Rhonda the bin of oranges, and Clem the fish she claimed, the trio headed across the driveway and towards the gate.

"You… you didn't happen to pack rocks in here?" wheezed Deacon as he struggled to carry Clem's supplies.

"It's mostly canned stuff," said Clem as she eyed the bin. "I'm glad you have these plastic boxes."

"You are?" asked Rhonda. "Why?"

"Well, I tried putting stuff in bags to collect later, but it was too heavy and the bottom broke," explained Clem as they approached the gate. "I lost a ton of really good stuff because of that."

"That's nothing," said Rhonda. "Some lunatics broke a road block that was keeping those creatures in check in an area Howard and I were planning on scavenging. We spent hours having to lure those awful things into the water just to clear out the rest spot we had already cleared out last week."

"Rest stop?" Clem thought back to their escape across the bridge. "Did you go to Titusville yesterday?"

"We…" Rhonda turned to Clementine suddenly. "How on Earth do you know that?"

"I saw a boat yesterday; it must have been yours," said Clem.

"Wait, you followed me all the way into Titusville and back?" asked a shocked Rhonda.

"No, but two days ago we were in Titusville, and I remember seeing some of these red boxes stacked up near a dock by this rest stop on the bridge."

"How could you have seen that? The only way you could even possibly get in there was if…" Rhonda's jaw dropped when she gazed upon the massive RV sporting a dented grill covered in dried gore. "You!" she bellowed. "Your people are the ones who destroyed the roadblock in Titusville!"

"Well, yeah. We—"

"Do you have any idea how much hell your people put Howard and I through!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "We wasted over a hundred gallons of gasoline on that trip and had nothing to show for it! What were you thinking!"

"I—"

"Why am I even asking you?" Rhonda dropped the bin of oranges and went right for the Brave's door.

"Hey!" yelled Clem.

"Open up!" she demanded as she pulled on the handle.

"Rhonda stop it!" ordered Deacon.

"You people have a lot to answer for!" accused Rhonda as she circled around to the front of the RV. "I know you're in there! Get out!"

"Rhonda, cut it out," insisted Deacon.

"You, you're going to tell Tanner about this, right?" asked Rhonda.

"Tell him what?" asked Deacon.

"That whoever these people are, they're responsible for hindering Valkaria's efforts to secure supplies."

"Oh, now you're part of Valkaria?" mocked Deacon. "I thought you and Howard were your own thing?"

"It doesn't matter, these people are a menace and Tanner should take care of them, immediately!" Clem winced upon hearing that assessment.

"Tanner's not going to care that they broke some roadblock in a town that's fifty miles up the road," retorted Deacon. "And anyway, I told you Titusville was swarming with those things before you left."

"You little…" Rhonda snarled at Deacon, then grabbed the bin he was holding. "The deal's off!"

"You can't do that!" demanded Clem.

"Watch me!" Rhonda ripped the bin from Deacon's hands. "You can keep the oranges and the fish."

"Rhonda, you already agreed to the trade!" yelled Deacon. "You can't go back on it now and if you do, that 'is' something Tanner will care about." Rhonda snarled at Deacon, almost like an animal baring its fangs. "I get you're not happy but she already held up her end of the bargain and now you gotta do the same."

Rhonda stared at Deacon, who didn't seem intimidated by the woman anymore. Rhonda groaned to herself and looked down at the bin she was holding. Clem expected her to leave it on the ground, but then a wicked and unsettlingly smile crept across Rhonda's sharp face. Clem watched as the woman turned the bin up over and dumped its contents onto the grass.

"Hey!" yelled Clem. "You—"

"The bins were never part of the deal," smugly proclaimed Rhonda as she tossed the empty one aside. "So here, enjoy your end of the bargain," she said as she dumped the oranges onto the grass. "Because it's the last thing you'll ever get from me." Rhonda collected the empty bins and marched back to her house.

"I'm… I'm sorry," spoke Deacon as Clem eyed her valued prize scattered across the dirt.

Clem sighed. "It's not your fault." Despite Rhonda's theatrics, none of Clem's supplies had been broken when she dumped them out, and even most of the oranges had escaped unbruised. With some help from Sarah and Deacon, Clem managed to clean off their supplies and stack them inside, first on the dinner table then on the kitchen counter when they ran out of space. Placing the fish on top of all the cans Sarah had neatly arranged, Clem was in awe at just how much they had gotten from Rhonda.

"Wow," said Sarah, apparently thinking the same as Clem was.

"Well, if you two could just take me up the road to where the roadblock is, I'd appreciate it," said Deacon. "I'm sure you'll want to enjoy your meal in peace."

"Wait, Deacon," said Clem. "Why don't you eat with us?"

"Oh, I… I don't know," said the young man.

"Come on, you're not hungry?" asked Clem.

"I could eat, sure. I just really should get back to Tanner already."

"Come on, it's Thanksgiving," said Clem.

"It is?" asked Deacon.

"It's near the end of November," said Sarah. "It's close enough."

"We wouldn't have this stuff if you didn't help us," said Clem. "So you should get some too."

"And you're supposed to share food with people on Thanksgiving," added Sarah. "That's why it's called Thanksgiving. You're thanking people who gave you stuff."

"You gotta stay," insisted Clem. "That big fish can be like our turkey."

A reluctant smile formed on Deacon's face. "Well, if you actually want me around, sure."