Clementine sighed as she dragged the hose across the dirt. It was hot today, hotter than yesterday, and it was still early. Looking around, Clem saw only sun-bleached fields stretching out all the way into the empty horizon. And it was dead quiet, with only the soft crunching of dried grass beneath her shoes breaking the silence. Clem was almost afraid she'd get lost in the emptiness if she walked any further.

She dropped the hose onto the ground and followed it back towards the road where the Brave was parked. There she moved towards a section of pipe embedded within one of the Brave's compartments. Clem placed her hand on a valve inside and groaned to herself before turning it. Holding her breath, Clem looked out at the field and watched the hose impatiently. Eventually, she saw a black mush flowing out of it. Clem breathed a sigh of relief, then turned away in disgust; she never got used to emptying the Brave's septic tank.

Not wanting to watch their own waste spill out onto the ground, Clem headed to the back of the Brave. Climbing up the ladder, she found her heart beating faster with each step. There was nothing to see but empty space, just like every time she surveyed for threats lately, but that just made Clem think it'd be that much easier to spot them. She sat up there for a time, constantly searching the horizon for any movement, until eventually the urge to move herself compelled Clem to head back down the ladder.

Returning to the sewage drain, Clem waited until the gross sound of gunk moving through the hose dimmed to almost nothing. She closed that value, then opened the one next to it for the shower and sink's tank. Clem still remembered the first time they had to do this; Sarah explained that if they didn't flush out the hose with the other tank's water after emptying the toilet, it might get clogged, and with their own shit.

After hearing the flow of water come to a stop, Clem closed the valve and unscrewed the hose. She grimaced as a bit of black sludge dripped out onto the pavement and a heinous stench stung her nostrils. Not wanting to visit the site where she just dumped a couple of week's worth of raw sewage, Clem started pulling on the hose and prayed it hadn't become stopped up; just the thought alone was making her queasy.

But she was fortunate and could tell by the weight alone that the hose was empty now. Grateful for the small miracle, Clem stowed the hose away as fast as she could, eager to get inside and out of sight. Rushing over to the door, she looked over her shoulder one last time, then hurried in. Heading inside, the first thing Clem's eyes fell on was the sink, and the second thing was soap.

While washing her hands, Clem couldn't help staring at Sarah. She was lying on the pulled out mattress, still snoring softly while a pained grimace remained etched on her damp face. Clem found herself instinctively wetting a washcloth and placing it on Sarah's forehead. She wasn't sure if it was the heat, a hangover, or both that was making Sarah sweat, but whatever the cause it was obvious she was in pain right now.

Bending down to check the bucket to see if Sarah had been sick, Clem couldn't help noticing the textbooks strewn across the floor lying at the foot of the bed. Pretty much the only thing Sarah did while she was awake and sober enough to see straight was read them in hopes of some answer to her dilemma. If there was such a solution to be found amongst them, Sarah hadn't found it yet.

Checking the bucket, Clem was relieved it was actually empty for once, and took that as a good sign, only to notice the empty vodka bottle sitting next to it. She sighed to herself, then took the bottle to the trash. It clinked against the whiskey, tequila, and three beer bottles already in the bin. The combined odor of the empty bottles was nearly enough to make Clem nauseous and would do only worse to Sarah when she woke up, so Clem bagged them up and tossed them outside.

She went to the bedroom next to check on Omid. Like Sarah, he was still asleep, and like Sarah, he looked unsettled and uncomfortable. Lately he had been dividing his days between sulking in bed, coddling his stuffed elephant, playing with his new nightlight, and trying to wake Sarah. Sometimes Clem would find him by her side, his hands lightly tugging on her sheets in desperation until broke down whimpering, at which point Clem would carry him back to the bedroom.

Wanting to catch something for lunch before it got too hot, Clem headed for the driver's seat next. She turned the key and the engine churned for a few seconds, but it wouldn't start. Clem stopped, took a breath, then turned the key again; more churning, and nothing else. Frustrated, Clem turned the key and held it in place, but it only produced several seconds of fruitless churning and nothing else. She groaned to herself as she looked over her shoulder.

Clem loathed the idea of waking a sickly Sarah, but she had no idea what could be wrong with the Brave. She tried to remember what Patty had told her about cars, but all that came to mind wad diesel engines struggle when it's cold, and it was the middle of summer right now. Clem checked the dashboard next and saw they still had half a tank of fuel left, and with that, she had exhausted everything she could think of. Anytime there had been a problem with the Brave, either Patty or Sarah had taken care of it.

Clem sighed and turned back to the steering wheel. "Come on," she pleaded. "Just work for once, at least for today." Clem set her hand on the key, took a breath, and then turned it. The engine churned for a second, then kept churning for several more seconds, and then there was a loud pop followed by a steady rumbling. Clem breathed a sigh of relief, shifted the Brave into drive, then stretched out her foot until she felt the gas pedal.

Driving back across the barren fields of Nebraska, it wasn't long before Clem could see the lake. She had it found the day after Sarah had come back, and it was big, a lot bigger than she was expecting. Driving alongside it, seeing the clear blue water shimmering in the morning sun, Clem couldn't help thinking this would be a nice place to stay if they just had come here under different circumstances.

Wiping the sweat from her brow as she pulled the Brave into the shade near the only trees dotted along the road, Clem felt an overwhelming urge to go swimming. It'd be perfect right now, a cool and refreshing dip on a hot day would be just the thing she needed to relax, but she couldn't. Instead, she retrieved a tackle box and a fishing rod, stepped outside, and set up the rod in the mud bordering the lake before going back for a couple of empty water jugs.

It hadn't rained all week, and there wasn't much water left in the Brave's tank, so that meant filling it up the old-fashioned way; pouring water through a funnel lined with a coffee filter into a jug, then pouring that into the Brave, a single gallon at a time. It wasn't long before the dull ache in Clem's wrist returned, and all she could do to ease the pain was take breaks every few jugs before resuming her work.

Between literally carrying water, Clem would reel her line, make sure her lure was still on it, then toss it out again before going back to her other task. She hated to admit it, but fishing was easier when Anthony was around. She tried recalling some of the things he'd mentioned, about what kind of scented lures were good for attracting what fish and how to use them, but the only thing she could remember right now was him once grumbling about how the scented lures probably lost their potency over a year ago.

Trudging back and forth under the hot sun, Clem found herself wishing she hadn't thrown her hat away. Working on the farm, she never realized how brutal the sun felt on her face because she had taken it for granted she was always wearing a hat. She also just really missed it and regretted tossing it away, so much that she had been tempted to go back for it. But she didn't remember which town she had left it in, and even if she did, she didn't have time to backtrack.

After pouring her fifteenth jug of water into the tank and stopping to rub her tender wrist, Clem looked over and noticed her rod's bobber floating peacefully on the water, which pissed her off. She plucked the rod from mud and quickly reeled in her line. Sick of waiting for the fish to come to her, Clem marched out across a short dock bordering the shore. One thing she did remember was Anthony saying bass mostly hunt with sound and sight, and so Clem walked up to the edge of the dock and cast out her line as far as she could.

After the lure landed on the water, Clem waited a few seconds, then started reeling it in. Remembering what Anthony told her about how bass have to think the lure is alive, Clem started very slow, only moving it a tiny bit at a time in-between long breaks. Then she increased the speed, reeling it a little faster, shortening the breaks, like a nervous animal that knew it was being stalked. Then she started reeling non-stop, like the lure was running scared now, and that's when she felt something pulling back on her line.

Whatever she just hooked was heavy, and it was very much alive as her bobber darted back and forth across the water. Every little tug and twist gnawed at Clem's sore wrist, but it also hardened her resolve as she pictured a juicy meal dangling on the end of her line. A few more turns of the reel and another quick yank on the rod and Clem could see it in the shallow water, a fat bass thrashing about for its life. Unable to wait any longer, she gave the rod one final mighty pull and the fish came flopping onto the dock.

Clem immediately dropped the rod and grabbed hold of the fishing line itself. She pulled her catch in close, practically salivating as she could feel its full weight in her hands. She could nearly taste it now, and that's when the fish suddenly wriggled off the hook. Panic shot up Clem's spine as the bass landed on the wood. It flopped right to the edge of the dock and was about to slide into the water when Clem's knife skewered it right through the eye, pinning it to the wood.

The fish continued to wriggle in place, much to Clem's disbelief, and it didn't stop until she pulled the knife out. Content it was dead now, she sheathed her blade and picked up her catch. It was very heavy, and Clem's stomach started to growl just from being close to it. Giddy from her bounty, Clem burst back into the Brave with the fish in her arms, like Santa bearing a slimy dead present for everyone.

"Look what I—" Clem saw Omid standing in front of Sarah. "Omid, no. Don't—"

"It's okay." Clem watched as Sarah turned over and looked at Omid. Her eyes were half-shut and disturbingly red, but her lips had a smile on them that drew Omid closer like a moth to a flame. "It's... is all right... Clem," slurred Sarah as she sat up and reached out for Omid.

"You're sure? You don't feel sick?"

"I... uh… um... a little… but... but it's not bad... at least right now." As much as Clem hated to admit it, Sarah did sound a lot better now than compared to yesterday. "And…" Clem watched as Sarah slowly moved her hand up and down Omid's back. "I've really missed holding him."

"I… I think he's missed holding you too," noted Clem as Omid clutched Sarah for dear life. "I know I do." Sarah leaned down and kissed Omid's forehead.

"Love you… I love you so much Omid, I…" Omid turned away suddenly. "What's wrong?" asked Sarah as Omid started to whimper. Sarah looked at him in confusion for a second, then held up a hand in front of her mouth. "God, my breath is awful" lamented Sarah as she set Omid on the carpet. "And my head…"

"I'll get you some aspirin," offered Clem as she set the fish in the sink. "And—"

"What's the point?" moaned Sarah as she started reaching down past the side of the bed. "I'm just gonna have to… wait, where is it?"

"If you mean the vodka, it was empty."

"I drank it all?" asked a confused Sarah as she started rubbing her head with both hands. "God, please tell me you found anything other than vodka yesterday."

"No, I didn't find anything yesterday. That vodka was the only alcohol we had left." Sarah looked up suddenly at Clem, startling her. "I'm really sorry," insisted Clem. "But I'll find some more today after lunch and then—"

"It's okay," insisted Sarah. "I… I could really use a break." Sarah stood up suddenly, only to immediately stumble backwards onto the bed.

"Hang on," insisted Clem as she rushed to Sarah's side. "What do you need?"

"Just help me get into the bathroom," pleaded Sarah as she wrapped an arm around Clem.

"Sure thing." The mornings had been the worst, with Sarah simultaneously battling splitting headaches, nausea, and misery in general. Sometimes it was so bad she could barely crawl to the bathroom with Clem's help. Think back to her tenth birthday, Clem remembered how awful having just one hangover felt, and Sarah was drinking constantly every day. Watching her stagger the last couple of feet into the bathroom on her own was a marked improvement over her last few mornings.

Turning around, Clem immediately noticed Omid, staring at the bathroom door with a concerned look on his face, like he often had recently. "Come on," urged Clem as she picked him up. "Sarah needs some time alone, like she does every morning." Clem could feel Omid resisting her as she picked him up. He wasn't dumb, he could see Sarah was in pain and Clem never had an answer for him.

She placed him in his crib, tucked him in, then stayed there, gently caressing him until hopefully his urge to get up and leave passed. Clem hated doing this, hated depriving Omid of Sarah, hated having to discourage him from wanting to be with her, hated that there was little she could do herself to help Sarah, but it was all she could manage for the time being.

Eventually, after giving Omid his nightlight that made stars, he'd retreat under the covers with it. With the light on, Clem could see a crude outline of Omid through the blanket, lying on his back as he pawed the stars being projected onto it. It was his own little world under there, and Clem just hoped he'd be content to stay in there, if only for a little while.

Leaving the bedroom, Clem headed for the kitchen and started preparing her catch. No matter how many times she did it, descaling and gutting a fish was another chore she never really got used to. Painstakingly slicing away the skin and carefully scooping the guts into a bucket was bad enough on small fish, but doing it for one as long as her arm was making Clem nauseous. It wasn't until she had tossed the entrails outside and was free from that awful smell did her appetite return. And stepping back inside, Clem found her stomach growling at the sight of all that fresh meat.

"Oh wow…" Clem looked over to see Sarah coming out of the bathroom. Her eyes were still red and she looked exhausted, but there was also a look of awe under that as she stared at the fish Clem caught.

"How are you feeling?" asked Clem.

"Terrible," mumbled Sarah as she stopped to rub her eyes. "Which is better than usual."

"Did you throw-up much?"

"I didn't throw up at all actually," announced a woozy Sarah. "I just spent the last ten minutes in front of the toilet feeling like I was going to throw-up," mumbled Sarah as she rubbed her head next. "I don't know even know if that's from drinking or…" Sarah became quiet suddenly. "That thing is huge. How did you ever catch it?"

"I just remembered what…" Clem bit her lip just in time to stop herself from saying Anthony's name. "I just got lucky really," shrugged Clem as she turned to the burner.

"Well I'm glad you did," said Sarah as Clem lit a match. "This is probably the first time I don't feel too sick to eat since…" Sarah's abrupt pause settled in Clem's stomach like a lead brick. The pair hadn't discussed her pregnancy since their decision to try to end it, and since then it cast a shadow over everything they did. Clem forced herself to push it out of mind and moved her match to light the burner, but nothing happened.

"What's wrong?" asked an anxious Sarah as she leaned in close.

"I don't know," said Clem as she turned the burner's dial off and on. "We're probably low on a propane. It's been a while since we've found any."

"Yeah, I know, I turned off the water heater's pilot light to save what we have left… at least I think I did, it's hard to remember," mumbled Sarah as she rubbed her head again. "I guess you'll have to start looking for that too when you go out for food."

"I already was." Looking over at Sarah, it was clear that news worried her, prompting Clem to hastily turned back to the burner. She held the match steady while twisting the dial back and forth a few times, but the only thing that happened was the match eventually went out. "Damnit."

"Wait, just give it a minute," suggested Sarah. "I… I remember reading in the manual if it's been a while since you used it you should... give it a minute in case... there's air in the line?"

Sarah didn't sound sure of herself, but she turned the dial to 'LITE' then grabbed a match anyway. Clem stood there anxiously for several seconds, just listening closely to the barely audible hissing of gas. Eventually, Sarah struck a match and tried lighting the burner, but her hands were trembling terribly. Clem reached out and grasped Sarah's hand with her own, then held her breath in anticipation, worried breathing too hard would blow out the match. She helped Sarah slide the match under the burner, and a beautiful ring of fire sprung up to greet it.

"Thank God." Clem immediately placed a pan on the burner and adjusted the dial to the temperature she wanted. She worked quickly and in no time was listening to the sweet music only a couple of slabs of fresh meat sizzling on a stove could produce. Slicing up her remaining catch as the aroma of fresh fish filled the air, Clem realized it would take at least two more pan loads of space to cook the rest of the fish, and that might take more propane than they had left.

Not long before the first two fillets were finished cooking, Sarah brought Omid up to the front. The sullen look hanging his eyes evaporated almost instantaneously as he smelled the air around him. Serving up a hot plate in front of the pair and seeing their eyes grow wide with astonishment was one of the few treats that came out Clem's current routine, and she savored it. She also savored her own cooking, slowly sucking every bit of flavor out of her meal one juicy morsel at a time.

Seeing Sarah and Omid smile as they took turns eating brought a swell of joy to Clem's heart she rarely felt anymore. As of lately, mealtime was something she dreaded. If Clem wasn't watching Sarah alternate between trying to eat and throwing up, then she was stuck coaxing Omid to eat just a bit more asparagus or whatever lousy canned goods she pulled out of the back of their closet.

Serving up seconds before tossing more meat into the pan, Clem briefly felt like she was in a dream. They were actually happy again, even if just for having a good meal again, and that alone was enough to drive away the gloom and despair for a time. Once she finished cooking the last slabs of fish, Clem sat down to eat with her family. No words were exchanged, and none were needed, as seeing each other eat to their heart's content was enough to raise their spirits.

By the time they polished off the third and final plate, Clem felt full for the first time she could remember since leaving the farm, and she could tell Omid and Sarah felt the same. It was almost enough to make her weep for joy. But then she felt it, that occasional nagging pain in her side that resurfaced anytime she ate. It didn't hurt much, but it was just enough to sink her smile. It was then Clem realized she forgot to switch off the burner.

"Thanks so much for that Clem," Sarah said as Clem discovered that the burner was already out. "I haven't eaten that well in a long time." Looking at the dial, the burner hadn't actually been switched off. "If only you caught a fish that big every day." Clem turned the dial, despite knowing it mattered little. "Then maybe we…" Clem heard a weird gagging sound and spun around to see Sarah covering her mouth with both hands.

"Here." Clem snatched the bucket off the floor. "Use—"

"I'm okay!" insisted Sarah before taking a couple of deep breaths. "I… I'm okay. I was just really full and for a second… I'm okay," repeated Sarah as she looked right at Clem. "I'm all right," Sarah's face betrayed her words, but Clem quietly set the bucket down anyway.

"All right," said Clem. "I… I guess I should get going already, start looking for food before it gets dark, and propane. Oh, and I need to find more alcohol."

"Yeah, alcohol…" Sarah's face scrunched up in disgust when she said that, as if the very word left a horrible taste in her mouth now. She took a deep breath, then noticed a concerned Omid staring at her. "No, I'm okay now," insisted Sarah as she knelt down to give Omid a reassuring smile. "I… I feel better now than I have in a long time."

This seemed to ease Omid's mind slightly, and Clem knelt down as she sensed an opportunity. "You liked that fish, didn't you?" She asked in the sweetest voice she could muster. Omid didn't answer her, but Clem could see the hints of a smile forming on the edges of his lips. "You be good for Sarah, and I'll be sure to find you something nice for dessert this evening, okay? You like the sound of that? Huh?" Clem leaned in and gently tapped Omid on the nose, which produced what almost sounded like a faint giggle. "Okay, you be good," said Clem as she stood up. "I—"

Something immediately grabbed hold of Clem as she turned around. "Be careful," whispered Sarah as she squeezed Clem so hard it was hard for her to breathe. "I mean to tell you that every day before you leave, but—"

"It's all right," said Clem as she returned Sarah's hug. "I'd rather you just rest when you feel sick than worry about me."

"I usually do both," confessed Sarah. "But I feel okay today so if anything happens just call me on the radio and I'll be right there, okay?"

"I will," assured Clem. "There's usually nothing out there."

"Yeah, usually…" Clem felt Sarah squeezing her even harder. "Like I said, if—"

"I will."

"Okay…"

Sarah reluctantly let go of Clem, and Clem reluctantly stepped away from her. Sarah took Omid back to the bedroom while Clem collected her gear: gun, knife, mask, backpack, radio, and a festering coat. She slipped them on, each adding a bit more literal weight for her to carry, then stepped outside and immediately felt the sun on her face again, practically mocking her for tossing away her hat.

Clem briefly stopped to check the Brave's propane tank. Opening the hatch, she despaired as the gauge confirmed what she already knew; it was empty. Forcing herself to keep moving, Clem moved to the back and collected the bike, flinching as her wrist began to throb from lifting it. Even now it still hadn't fully healed, probably because she had to keep using her hands every day.

Riding back into town, her legs already starting to cramp from having to do this commute every day, Clem still couldn't tell what she hated more; the suffocating heat of wearing a gas mask on a summer day, the rancid smell from her coat baking in the sun anytime she took the mask off, or the crushing isolation she felt as she pedaled across the cracked asphalt back into an abandoned city.

Every day it got harder, every day she was more tired, every day felt more hopeless than the last. Arriving on the edge of town, past the trailer park she had already picked clean days ago, Clem could see the rows of suburban homes stretched out in the valley below her and sighed deeply. Wading through this jungle of torn apart neighborhoods and overgrown lawns for the chance to find a few measly scraps was taking its toll on her.

She pulled her mask off for a second to get a breath of fresh air and almost immediately gagged on the rancid smell of her own coat; she hated her new coat. It was heavier than her old raincoat and somehow managed to stink worse too. Clem hadn't seen any walkers after the first two days and was tempted to toss the coat away. But she couldn't risk it, couldn't risk being bitten and then leaving Sarah and Omid behind to fend for themselves, so Clem suffered quietly as she headed down the hill.

She had rummaged through all the bigger stores in the center of town on her first day, and they weren't that big to begin with, so all that was left were hundreds of small houses surrounding the area. Arriving at the nearest neighborhood, the first thing that caught Clem's eye were the flags on the mailboxes. To keep from searching the same house twice between days, Clem would put up the flag on the mailbox of any house she searched, and right now she found herself surrounded by raised flags.

Pedaling forward, she was actually shocked at how many houses she had cleared out. She never kept count, she didn't have time, she just tossed them as quickly as she could before moving onto the next one. But now, crossing through block after block of cleared out houses, Clem worried there weren't any left, that she somehow had checked them all and forgot. She was almost ready to turn back when she finally spotted the end of the sea of raised flags; now the real work began.

Clem moved through houses almost entirely on instinct now, barely having to think about her next step. She'd done it literally hundreds of times, even though it had become obvious to her on the first day that there was almost nothing left to be found. But day after day she returned, baking to death under her coat and mask while pushing her tired muscles to their limits in hope that she could scrape together just enough to do it again tomorrow.

She moved a little faster today, with a full belly giving her a much-needed boost of energy. But it wasn't long before long attrition wore her down and she had slowed to a crawl under the unforgiving afternoon sun. Sweat was beading into her eyes and her head was dizzy as Clem stumbled out of one house and into another one, determined to find the supplies she needed.

She passed through a garage hoping to find maybe an old case of soda; just empty boxes. She located the kitchen next and pawed through the cupboards and fridge thinking she was due to find some leftover booze; only empty bottles under the sink. She only briefly searched the bathroom for medicine before realizing it was a lost cause, then wandered downstairs and into the backyard.

Trudging through the overgrown weeds and wilting wild-flowers, Clem spotted a grill near the back fence. She figured it was another cheap charcoal one, but moving towards it she spotted a tube sticking out of the bottom. Hurrying now, Clem was shocked to discover a propane tank mounted under the grill. She snatched it with both hands, scooping up her treasure for the day, only to realize it was empty just from how light it was, and checking the gauge merely confirmed it. Disheartened, Clem took one last look around, hoping maybe there was something, anything of value she had overlooked.

Standing around in the overgrown yard of an old house next to a propane grill, Clem found herself thinking back to that day in Titusville. It had been one of a handful competing for the title of worst day of her life, being cheated, whipped, nearly eaten and blown up all in a short time. And yet, Clem couldn't help thinking the person who nearly killed her by accident had been one of the few good things to ever happen to her since the outbreak.

Standing alone in this husk of a town that not even the dead bothered to roam anymore, Clem found herself missing her friends all over again. To this day, she regretted one of the last things she said to Patty was to accuse her of murder. She wished she had grabbed her gun and ran into the house after her and Jet. She wished she could talk to Sin again, ask him what they should do about Sarah. She wished that Devlin would find them, if just so there'd be another person left on Earth who cared about them.

Clem found herself choking back a sob as she dragged herself back to the road. She was about to force herself onto the next house when she noticed it; raised mailbox flags down past the houses she hadn't searched yet. Panic shot up Clem's spine as she scanned for threats, but as she continued to find nothing in every direction, the far uglier truth became clear in her mind; she had searched every house in town.

It was the only explanation, she had made a big loop and wound up back where she started, meaning there truly was nothing left now, or so little it wouldn't be worth the hours or days searching for it. Those rows of houses might as well have been headstones, offering nothing but a count of how many died and scant clues to who they were. And standing there, in the middle of this massive graveyard, Clem felt a sudden overwhelming urge to leave.

The ride back was unbearable, Clem could barely breathe, with or without her mask on or off thanks to her coat, and her trembling legs felt like they were ready to fall off at any moment. By the time she finally reached the Brave, Clem fell onto the pavement just trying to stop her bike. She was so tired she barely felt any pain from the tumble, and just left the bike where it fell as she staggered over to the Brave's door. Climbing up those steps, finally making it back home, Clem was content to just collapse onto the carpet.

It felt good, just lying there, but then she heard something. "Clem!" Clem rolled over to see Sarah rushing forward. "Why didn't you call?"

"Call?" Clem mumbled as Sarah yanked off her mask and placed her hand on Clem's forehead.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"Huh?" mumbled a woozy Clem.

"Talk to me!" begged Sarah.

"Nothing happened," insisted Clem as she suddenly noticed the alarm in Sarah's voice.

"But, then why are—"

"I'm just really, really, tired…"

Clem took a deep breath and rolled onto her side, only to feel her gun jabbing her in the hip. Before Clem could roll off it, Sarah started undoing her coat. She helped Clem out of it and her backpack, then immediately rushed the coat into the fridge. With a literal weight lifted off her shoulders, Clem sat up and saw Omid on the floor, looking expectedly up at her. "It's okay," mumbled a weary Clem. "I'm okay, just…" Clem noticed a board game lying on the ground behind Omid. "Were… were you playing a game with him?"

"Yeah," said Sarah as she shut the fridge. "He doesn't really know how to play, and he doesn't care about the money and cards, but he likes it when I spin the spinner."

"Really?" asked a pleasantly surprised Clem. "You got him to play with something other than his elephant or nightlight?"

"Yeah, I know, right," said Sarah with a big smile.

"And… and I missed it," realized Clem as Omid walked up to her, another worried look gripping his chubby face. "And I ruined it for him just now," mumbled Clem as she looked down at her feet.

"No, it's fine, he was just worried about you," said Sarah as she knelt down. "Clem's okay Omid, she just needs a nap, right Clem?"

Clem looked up and found herself staring right into Omid's eyes, staring right into that constant fear always gripping him. "Yeah, I just had a long day, but it's over now." Clem forced a smile onto her face, and that seemed to calm Omid.

"I think someone else could use a nap," said Sarah in a sweet voice as placed her hands on Omid's shoulder. "You want to tell Clem you love her before you take a nap? Love you?"

Omid didn't say anything, but Clem could see the fear in his eyes give way to a tenderness instead. Even without saying it, she knew he was telling her he loved her. "Love you," said Clem before kissing Omid on the cheek, which elicited a smile from the quiet tyke.

"All right, come on, nap time." Sarah carried Omid away while Clem slowly stumbled to her feet. She dragged her backpack to the closet, then offloaded what she found; a handful of different batteries she couldn't be sure worked, a few nearly empty pill bottles with names she couldn't pronounce, and a single can of beets. Looking at the entire closet, Clem doubted what they had would last more than a week. All that was left was a few more packs of ice-cream, a half-finished jar of jam, and a small collection of cans and jars filled exclusively with things they didn't like eating.

"That's all you found?" Clem turned around to see Sarah staring over her shoulder, a distressed look on her face.

"I'm sorry," professed Clem as she lowered her head in shame.

"No, it's okay, it's just…"

It was just they were nearly out of everything thought Clem without saying it. The pair just stood there in front of the closet for a second before Clem said something. "I didn't find any alcohol either," she realized.

"Oh…" Clem looked up and saw Sarah didn't look that disappointed to hear that news. "I'll… I'll find some tomorrow and—"

"It's been a week," Sarah announced suddenly. "And I drank about six whole bottles worth of alcohol, so…" Sarah took a deep breath. "I… I should go use those pregnancy tests we took… wish me luck."

"Good luck." Clem shared a last nervous glance with Sarah, then watched as she hurried into the bathroom.

Dead tired and possibly suffering from heatstroke, Clem collapsed onto the foldout bed. With her clothes cool from sweat and her legs sore all over, Clem was content to just lay there in the soft embrace of the mattress until she drifted off to sleep. She'd like nothing more than to just sleep right now, to just let everything fade away, at least for a little while. She lay there for so long that she had nearly lost herself in that peaceful void before something snapped her out of her trance; Sarah crying.

Clem forced her tired legs into action and shuffled into the bathroom. She found herself looking at the familiar sight of Sarah crying into her knees and not one, but three completely different pregnancy tests lying in the sink, and before she even looked at them she knew what they said; Sarah was still pregnant.

"Sarah…" Sarah just kept crying. "I… I'll find you more alcohol, okay? I—"

"No!" shouted Sarah, her eyes bulging with terror and her face wet with fresh tears as she looked up at Clem. "I can't stand it, I… I wake up every day feeling like I'm dying. Just… just the smell of alcohol now, just thinking about it even makes me…" Clem watched as Sarah briefly gagged on her own saliva before taking a deep breath. "This… this was the first day since finding out it wasn't so bad, the first day where things weren't so bad, and I know it's only because I had almost nothing left to drink last night. I… I just can't do it anymore… I can't."

Clem turned away from Sarah and looked at the pregnancy tests. "Maybe… maybe these wrong," suggested Clem. "We don't know how they work, maybe it takes a while after, you know, for it to know it's gone. We—"

"I picked three different tests just in case one of them is wrong, but they all say the same thing!" cried Sarah.

"They could all be wrong!" reasoned Clem. "They're old, they—"

"I checked, they have longer expiration dates than our damn food!" Sarah looked down at her stomach and started banging her fists against it.

"Stop it!" Clem rushed forward and grabbed Sarah's wrists, but couldn't stop Sarah from hitting herself. "Don't! Don't hurt yourself! Sarah!"

"I want it out!" screamed a hysterical Sarah. "I can't have baby, I can't… it'll kill me! I… I don't want to be pregnant anymore!"

"I'll think of something!" proclaimed Clementine.

"No you won't! I read every book I had, anytime I wasn't so drunk I couldn't see the words, and they all say this horrible stuff, about how being pregnant does all these terrible things to your body, and you're at risk of this and risk of that and having a miscarriage can be dangerous and trying to get rid of it is dangerous and it can kill you when it's born and… and…"

"Sarah… I… um…"

"But none of it mentions what I should do! What's the safe way to get rid of it without a doctor! I… I don't know what we're going to do. We… we can barely feed ourselves, we can't feed another baby, take care of another baby when Omid still needs so much time and… I don't want it, I don't another baby and… Oh God, I'm so sorry!" cried Sarah into her hands.

"Sarah, it'll be okay," wept Clem.

"It won't…"

"It will!"

"Clem..."

"I'll find someone!" Clem's word cut through the air like a knife and Sarah suddenly went silent. She looked up at Clem in disbelief.

"Wuh… what did you just say?"

"I…" Clem bit her lip before swallowing a lump in her throat. "I'll find someone. Someone who—"

"No!" Sarah startled Clem with her outburst. She leapt to her feet and Clem suddenly felt Sarah's arms around her. "I'll keep reading and I'll figure it out, okay?"

"You just told me none of it has helped," reminded a reluctant Clem.

"I'll keep drinking!" declared Sarah.

"You just said it makes you sick just thinking about it."

"I'll put up with it!"

"We don't have any alcohol left."

"We'll find some—I'll find some! I'll search every building in town if—"

"I already have!" announced Clem as she looked Sarah in the eye. "There's nothing left! There were barely any scraps left as it was!"

"Then… then we go somewhere else. Somewhere that still has alcohol left, and food too, we just gotta find it, we—"

"We have to find someone," repeated Clem through her tears. "It's the only way."

"It's not! We'll figure out something else out!"

"What?"

Sarah stood there, her face tense with anxiety before she started choking on her own sobs and lowering her head in despair.

"I know it's scary," mumbled Clem. "But we have too, it's—"

"No…" said Sarah through her tears. "I… can't ask you to do that." Clem suddenly felt Sarah's hands around her throat, not grasping it, but gently tracing her fingers across it. Clem didn't have to look to know Sarah was touching the scar the rope left. Clem noticed it herself anytime she looked in the mirror now. It was faint, much harder to notice than the scars on her back, and it faded a bit with each day, but it never went away.

"Clem… I… I can't…" Clem felt her stomach drop as Sarah suddenly and forcibly hugged her, squeezing her tight before planting a kiss on the top of her head. "I can't… I can't let you go back out there Clem. I… I love you and I can't let anything else happen to you because… because of me… because of what I did."

Hearing those words along with Sarah's cries felt like a red-hot poker right through Clem's heart. She instinctively wrapped her arms around Sarah and hastily kissed Sarah's cheek. "You didn't do anything wrong," dictated Clem in a stern voice. "And… it's not just for you. We're running out of everything. We don't have much food left and—"

"We'll keep fishing—the lake has been good to us."

"We don't have any propane left to cook it."

"We'll break up some furniture and make a fire—find a house with a fireplace like back in Spokeston."

"The Brave is stalling all the time now when I try to start it."

"I'll look at it tomorrow morning—it's overdue for a tune-up. I'll clean the fuel filters, make sure the fluids are right, everything. It'll be fine!"

"Sarah… we're running out of time." Clem waited for Sarah to respond, but she didn't say anything. "We can't keep living like this, it's not working. If we don't start looking for help now, we might not find it in time, and then…" Clem found herself choking on her own words as she felt Sarah hugging her more firmly.

"I know…" she said in a barely audible whisper. "I just… I don't want you to get hurt again."

"Me neither," confessed Clem. "But I don't want to just stay here and wait to die either, wait until we run out of food, and go hungry, and…" Clem had to stop herself from crying anymore. "The farm worked, and we'd never even done that before. There has to be other people out there with farms, ones who know what they're doing."

"Ones who know what to do when you're pregnant," added Sarah.

"Ones that care about kids." Clem remained there in Sarah's grasp, wishing she could just stay in her arms forever.

"I'm scared Clem…"

"I am too, but we can't be the only ones left in the world who still care about other people," reasoned Clementine. "We just gotta find them before someone else finds us."