Clementine coughed a couple of times, then spit a bit of phlegm into the water. She was briefly worried it might scare off the fish, only for her to remind herself there were almost no fish to scare off in this pitifully small river she wasted almost every bitterly cold morning sitting over. Staring down at her legs hanging past the edge of the bridge, she noticed her shoes looked like they were ready to fall apart.

The sole on the right one was peeling off and hung limply off her foot like an open mouth staring slack-jawed at the water. The other one wasn't much better and both shoes felt too tight and were hurting Clem's feet. She had been looking for replacements, but it was hard to find shoes that were both a good fit and not in worse shape than the ones she already had. This town was small and didn't have a clothing store, leaving only people's homes to search.

It also didn't have a pharmacy, leaving Clem to clean out medicine cabinets for any cold medicine she could find, the last of which she used up yesterday morning. She coughed a couple more times and cursed herself for not rationing out those cough drops better. Her throat was scratchy, it was hard to breathe and even hard to talk at times. She wanted nothing more than to go in, but Clem knew it was easier for her to do the morning chores than it was for Sarah.

They always needed more water and when there was no fresh snow, like this morning, it meant Clem was stuck hauling a few buckets back from the river for Sarah to boil. That would necessitate the search for more firewood, of which there were no easy sources left. Either she'd use her tomahawk to chop some chunks of wood off the trees next to the general store or drag back broken furniture from the edge of town; both were exhausting.

It was a constant challenge just to keep warm, one of which neither of them was accustomed to since the winters back south were much milder. They had to learn to wear layers of clothes and Clem had done everything she could to block off every little crack where she could feel cold air leaking into the current new home, which was still the general store since it was closest to the river. But they still needed heat to keep in which meant she had to keep feeding the fireplace, every day, and most of the night.

It felt endless. Even the warmest days were cold compared to the coldest days back in Spokeston. They didn't have a massive bounty of food lying around this time either, nor did Clem think they would ever find one again. When she wasn't collecting firewood or salvaging other things they needed, she was out here, fishing. Those first two days, they couldn't be happier to have fresh fish again. Now after two weeks, they couldn't be sicker of it.

In that time, Clem suddenly remembered how much she hated living in the cabin. Eating fish every day, along with occasional scraps that were found in the forest. She used to sleep away whole days back then while Omid and Christa worked so hard to keep her fed. Now she had no choice but to work every day just to keep Sarah, their Omid and herself fed. Looking down at the lonely floater bobbing in the water, she couldn't help feeling she was doing a lousy job.

Clem had walked along the river yesterday afternoon, the only place there were enough trees growing to bother looking for food to forage. Jet's guide had pictures of edible plants in it, and all three of them were desperate for something other than fish to eat. But the frost had killed most everything, and the one mushroom Clem had found was horrible. A few random cans of stuff they didn't like she had scavenged from town and fish were all they really had to eat anymore, and they ran out of cans two days ago.

Finally pulling in her line, Clem wasn't surprised to find there was nothing on it. She had no bait, and the handful of lures she dug out of a random garage didn't seem to make much difference. She tossed the line back into the water, then started the same very slow reeling motion again. The only food they had left was a bit of ice cream, a bit of jam, and a bag of freeze-dried apples. They had been wanting to save them for Omid's next birthday, if they lived that long.

Clem's reel started whirring and her hand moved without thinking. Although the lures didn't make much difference the better rod and knives she had scavenged did. A trout came right out the water and Clem didn't waste time collecting it from her line. She killed it, tossed it in a cooler, and then picked up her gear. It was small but it'd be enough for a meal, even if they were all sick of fish.

It was only a short walk from the river to the old general store they currently called home, and there was little in-between but a few buildings that looked half a century out of date. Walking down the main street of this pitiful little ghost town, Clem only gave her surroundings a cursory glance. They were so far from anything and it was so quiet that if anything was coming she'd hear it long before she saw it.

Walking into the store, Clem found Sarah staring at her with hungry eyes from the fire; if only Clem had something they wanted to eat. She cut up and skinned the fish, seasoned it with whatever spices she had found in abandoned kitchens she had searched, then fried it with the best pan she had salvaged. Cutting the fish into pieces, Clem grimaced as she put her fork to the plate. It's not that it tasted bad it was just the only thing they ever tasted anymore.

As she chewed her measly meal, Clem's eyes turned to Sarah as she knelt over the mattress across the fireplace. Dragging it back here was a pain, but it was worth it to be comfortable and warm when they slept. "Come on Omid, it's fresh, and it's good." Sarah leaned in over the center of the bed where Omid was lying and moved the fork towards his mouth; there was no response. He was so still, he wasn't even pushing the fork away, he just lay there quietly, like he didn't even know what was happening.

"We… we need to give him some ice cream," concluded Clem.

"We gave him some last night, when he wouldn't eat the fish then, if—"

"He's gotta eat something."

"We don't have much left," reminded Sarah.

"I know that, just…" Clem sighed. "Just get it, okay?"

Clem watched as Sarah dug through her backpack. Pulling out the little baggie, Clem couldn't help noticing how deflated the pack looked. She knew it wouldn't last forever, but watching Sarah dig for a piece of vanilla or strawberry because they were out of chocolate was a painful reminder just how close they were to running out of Omid's favorite treat. Sarah took a small bit of vanilla ice cream and held it out in front of Omid.

"Here you go Omid," she said in a sweet voice. "I know you don't like the fish anymore, but you still like ice cream, right?"

Clem watched anxiously, and Omid didn't respond. He just continued to lay there with eyes closed, uninterested in the treat.

"Omid?" Clem couldn't stop herself from shaking Omid, who whimpered softly in response. "Sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I…" A chill shot up Clem's spine as she suddenly heard something louder than Omid's whimpering. It was very distant but it was unmistakable; a diesel engine.

"They've found us!" Sarah immediately blurted out.

"Quiet!" demanded Clementine and she hurried over to the fire.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah as Clem grabbed a cup of water.

"They don't know we're here." Clem tossed the water onto the fire. "If they see smoke coming out of the chimney then they'll know right where to go." Clem grabbed a pillow off the mattress and used it to suffocate the already flickering flames. "Get our guns ready, and I'm gonna bring our bikes in."

Clem hastily stuffed what little fish she had left into her mouth; if this went badly she'd need her strength. Rushing out the front door, Clem was briefly paralyzed by just how much louder the engine sounded outside. There was no ignoring that it was a diesel engine or that it was getting closer by the second. Clem found herself shaking, and not from just the cold.

She ran over and grabbed her bike, then carefully wheeled it into the general store. She made sure to move it far inside and away from the windows, not wanting to risk anyone seeing it. As she headed back to the door, Sarah intercepted her long enough to hand her the machine gun. Clem briefly checked to make sure it was loaded, then tossed the gun over her shoulder as she rushed back outside to get Sarah's bike.

As soon as Clem moved the bike inside she spun around, shut the door behind her and locked it. Moving the bike away from the windows, Clem looked over to Sarah. She was kneeling beside Omid, her rifle clutched in her shivering hands. The pair exchanged a concerned look, then Clem inched up to one of the windows. She had hoped the engine would be moving away now; it was heading right towards them.

"We gotta get out of here," whispered a panicked Sarah.

"No, we'd never outrun them on the bikes," whispered Clem. "Keep your gun out and just stay quiet, hopefully they'll just leave like in Laramie."

"We can't move again," mumbled Sarah quietly. "Last time this happened we ended up at that awful gas station, and we still had food then and—"

"Quiet," shushed Clem as the distant sound of the engine closed in on them. Whatever it was, it was on the road just outside and it sounded like it was coming to greet them. Clementine clutched her machine gun tightly as she switched the safety off. The sound alone was enough to make her stomach crawl, and hearing it grow closer just made her sicker and sicker.

Yet even in her panic, Clem couldn't put it out of mind something was off. It sounded like the vehicle was approaching from the west. The rest of town was over there but Clem had spent three days cleaning it out. There were no signs anyone had lived there in months and the only paved road led further west into the countryside. Cheyenne and Laramie were northeast of here meaning the Vaquero should be approaching from those directions.

The vehicle was just down the street now, and it was definitely coming from the west. The engine tore through the silence and Clem could swear she could feel the air itself rumbling, but again it felt off. Clem spent a lot of time listening in terror to that racer's engine when it stalked the streets of Laramie; this wasn't it.

"Clem, get back here!" whispered Sarah as loudly as she could as Clem inched up to the nearest window. By very carefully angling the side of her head by the corner of the window, Clem was able to get sight of the road just in time as the source of the noise crept past the front door.

"Clem!"

"It's an RV…"

"What?" Before Clem could even answer she felt Sarah rushing up beside her. They both stared in awe as a mobile home rolled slowly past the windows. It was small for an RV, being only a little longer than a pick-up truck. The vehicle's actual cab was separate from the back, which looked like a big box with a door. It more closely resembled Anthony's truck and camper than any RV they had seen before, but it was a working vehicle.

Studying the vehicle as it drove past them, Clem noticed how old it looked. She didn't know a lot about RV's but she couldn't help thinking this one was probably at least twice as old as she was. The various dents across the side, faded lime green paint stripes and mismatched hubcaps supported her theory. Watching the old RV head down the street and towards the river, Clem found herself inching up to the door.

Listening closely, the RV was moving away now. Clem briefly thought it would just leave them behind, but it sounded like it was moving slower now. Eventually, it stopped moving and Clem listened to the engine idle in the distance for a second before shutting off; they had stopped. Clem leaned out closer for a better look but couldn't get a view of the RV from any of the windows, so she headed for the door.

"Clem!" Clem made a shushing motion at Sarah, then reached for the doorknob. She turned it slowly to make as little noise as possible, then leaned outside. She spotted the RV almost instantly just a few blocks ahead sitting on the bridge she was fishing at just a few minutes ago. Clem leaned back, fearful she'd been spotted. Staring at it, she grew anxious as she waited for something to happen; what were they waiting for?

"What's going on?"

Clem looked over her shoulder to find Sarah behind her, her rifle still in her hands.

"Give me your gun."

"Why?"

"I need the scope on it to see."

"See what?"

Clem took a breath. "The RV stopped on the bridge."

"The one that's just down the road?" Clem only nodded and Sarah's already trembling eyes went wide with shock.

"The rifle." Sarah obeyed immediately and Clem inched a bit further out the door. The RV was still on the bridge and Clem couldn't hear anything, so she figured now was good. She lifted the rifle scope to her eye, then spent the next several seconds adjusting to the narrow vision before she found herself facing the RV again. It was still there, with the chains on its tires practically mocking Clem.

"Sarah," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I can't see anything but what's in front of me with this," realized Clem. "Keep an eye out, in case anyone is trying to sneak up on us."

Sarah didn't say anything but Clem felt her twisting behind her, searching for threats. Clem was finding it hard to keep the rifle steady. She was already tired, her hands were nearly numb, and the damn thing was getting heavier every second. Clem didn't see any graffiti anywhere on the RV, so it didn't look the vehicles the Vaquero used, but that just made Clem all the more suspicious to what these people could have wanted.

"Someone's getting out," announced Clem as the door on the RV's cab swung open. She could feel Sarah lean in close behind her as they both watched in anticipation. It looked like a man in a blue jacket with a thick winter cap that had sides and a mask that covered his mouth. He closed the cab's door and Clem felt her blood freeze as he turned in her direction, only to keep turning until he was facing away from them.

"What's he doing?" whispered Sarah.

"Nothing… yet." Clem watched as the man opened the door to the RV's camper and stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Clem waited there anxiously, fearful an entire platoon would come spilling out. With each passing second, Clem was thinking about retreating back into the general store, just hide and hope they went away. But if these people had spotted them just now, then it'd be better if she already had a shot at them. A man bounded out of the RV with something long and dark in his hands.

"They got a gun!"

"No, it's not a gun. It's…" As Clem studied the object in the man's hand, she noticed him arching it behind his back as he approached the river. "It's a fishing rod."

Clem watched the stranger cast out his line, then sit down on the bridge, right where she had sat earlier. Watching him, Clem realized if she pulled the trigger than that RV was theirs. She found her finger moving forward on its own, but hastily stopped it. She might miss while holding the rifle like this, and even if she didn't the noise would alert others if they were nearby.

"Let's just go back inside," whispered Sarah. "Hopefully he'll leave after a while."

"No," said Clem as she lowered the rifle.

"No?"

Clem slowly crept back into the store. The second they moved past the threshold she shoved Sarah's rifle into her hands. "Take this."

"Yeah, I'll keep it close until he leaves."

"No," repeated Clem as she walked over to her backpack.

"Why do you keep saying that?" asked Sarah, her words thick with suspicion.

"Because we're not gonna just wait around and do nothing," said Clem as she pulled their radios out. "Here, take this," said Clem as she thrust one into Sarah's hand before clipping the other to her belt. "You'll need this too," insisted Clem as she handed Sarah her tomahawk. "I've got my knife, so we'll both have a melee weapon."

"Okay," said Sarah as she pocketed the radio and threw the tomahawk over her shoulder. "Do you really think he'll come in here?"

"We're not gonna give him that chance," said Clem as she dug deeper into her pack. "We're taking that RV."

"What? You can't be serious."

"Do I look like I'm not serious?" Clem marched over to Sarah and thrust a gas mask into her hands next. "Put that on, it's better if he doesn't see our faces, know that we're only kids."

"What, I…" Clem watched as the confusion on Sarah's face suddenly twisted into an intense glare. "I'm not doing this!" she declared as she tossed the mask onto the floor.

"Keep your voice down!" Clem hastily went over to the door and looked out, she could still see the stranger fishing on the bridge.

"I'm not robbing that man," repeated Sarah in a whisper, her voice still teeming with anger.

"Yes we are." Clem turned around to stare directly at Sarah. "We're gonna die here." Sarah tried to maintain a firm look of defiance, but Clem could tell that proclamation had unnerved her. "We need something other than fish to eat, and there's nothing left here—there's barely even any fish! We gotta leave but I have no idea where to go and I don't know if I could even find somewhere only a day away that actually has anything and even if I did, we'd have to ride out there, in the cold, with nothing to eat except fish."

Sarah's steeled look of righteous anger had completely melted away and had been replaced with one of tepid apprehension. "We… we still got those freeze-dried apples, and jam, and—"

"All of that combined wouldn't make a meal for one of us, let alone three of us," reminded Clem. "That RV, which might take off any second, is our only chance. If it leaves, we're as good as dead. Now, do you still want to tell me you're not gonna take it?"

"We… we can ask him. Okay, we ask him—"

"Ask him? Do you remember what the last people we asked for help did to me!" said Clem through her teeth as she pointed to the scar on her cheek.

"I… I know, but—"

"What she almost did to me…" rambled Clem as her knees started to shake. Sarah didn't say anything, she just stood there with an ashamed look on her face. "Well, any other suggestions?"

"It's just… we're killing him."

"We… he'll have a chance," reasoned Clem. "He knows how to fish—"

"You said it yourself, we're gonna die here. If we take his RV, we're leaving him to die instead."

Clem groaned as she felt Sarah's words weigh on her conscience; she was right. What few scraps this town had to offer they had already taken and that RV was probably their only way to avoid a slow death sentence, but they couldn't take it without sentencing its owner instead.

"He's just one person; we're three," rationalized Clem. "Besides, we have a baby to take care of; he doesn't."

"We don't know that," insisted Sarah. "There could be more people in the RV we haven't seen."

"I doubt that, he went right in and out to get his fishing rod. If there was a baby in there he would have stopped to check on it."

"Still… this is wrong."

Clem took a breath. "Yeah, it is." Clem looked over at Omid, who was laying motionless under the covers. "But so is what's happening to him, and I think letting him die would be even worse."

"Clem…"

"Besides, for all we know, he's one of the people who attacked us."

"You don't really believe that." Clem scowled at Sarah in response.

"Fine, he's probably just some other asshole who robs and kill people, like everyone we meet."

"Or he could be like Patty."

"Don't you—"

"Or Jet and Sin—"

"Sarah!"

"Or Devlin!"

Each name Sarah listed felt like another knife being twisted in Clem's chest. The mere suggestion of robbing this person was tearing Sarah up inside. It was tearing up Clem too as she found herself at a loss for words.

"For all we know, he could be one of them," added Sarah. "That… that could be Jet fishing out there right now."

"Then he'd forgive us for not wanting to take too many chances," reasoned Clem.

"And if it's not him?" Clem didn't have an answer for that. "We just walk up to him slowly and ask—"

"No!" yelled Clem. "I'm not taking that chance! Not again!" Clem felt her entire body shaking now. She looked up and saw a frightened Sarah staring back at her. "I'll do it alone," declared Clem. "Stay and watch Omid. One way or another, I'll be back with that RV, and then we're getting out of here."

Clem put her mask on and marched over to the door. She pulled it open only for Sarah to shove it close.

"I'm going Sarah, you can't stop me."

"Yeah…" spoke Sarah in a weak voice. "I know." It was then Clem noticed Sarah was holding her gas mask.

"Wait, does that mean—"

"Let's just get this over with," she said as she slipped the mask on.

The pair readied themselves and then stopped to check on Omid one last time. He was barely breathing which was enough to snap them into action. Inching over to the door, they saw their mark still on the bridge. The plan was to get as close to him as possible, then demand the keys to the RV. Clem also decided if he didn't give them up, or he tried to pull a gun, she would shoot him; she wouldn't give him the chance to hurt them.

"Don't take off your mask, and don't say my name, and don't mention Omid either," instructed Clem. "The less this guy knows about us, the better."

"Whatever you say Clem."

They had stuffed everything they could carry into their backpacks and dropped them by the door; ready to be picked up at a moment's notice along with Omid. Looking at her own pack, Clem knelt down and unzipped the smaller pouch on the outside. Jammed inside along with her utensils, toothbrush, and can opener was their one and only grenade. She picked it up and used the handle to clip it to her belt.

"What… what are you going to do with that?" asked a nervous Sarah.

"Nothing, I just want him to see I have it."

Stepping away from the store, Clem honed in on the man by the river still trying to catch a fish. Sitting out there, in the cold, a fishing rod in his hand and a crappy RV that looked more like a camper parked behind him, Clem couldn't help thinking of Anthony. She remembered back to the day she met him, and how if she could go back and change things she would have just shot him instead; she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

Clem took a step forward, which Sarah followed, then they stopped, fearful they had been detected, then they took another step. Very slowly, Clem managed to get up to a steady walk but didn't dare go any faster. Gradually the stranger grew nearer, changing from a dot in the distance, to a figure, to a person just sitting there. Clem kept moving slowly because she didn't want to be detected, but part of her was still hesitant to act.

The closer they got the harder it became to envision this stranger as some kind of monster out to get them. He had brown skin and a bit of dark hair poking out from under his hat. He was thin, the sleeves of his denim jacket hanging off his spindly limbs. There was also a kind of sadness in the way he was slumped over the bridge, just waiting on a fish like she was earlier. He also had a knife strapped to the back of his belt.

Suddenly, he stood up and Clem froze in place, Sarah bumping into her right after. They stood there, watching as he reeled in his rod and sighed at the sight of the empty hook. He didn't look like he had any bait either, or much more luck than Clem for that matter. He turned away from them and moved to put his fishing rod back in the RV, and Clem felt her legs moving on their own the second he disappeared from view.

She started rushing forward, going from a slow march into a full-blown sprint in seconds. She saw the front of the RV rushing up to meet her and skidded to a sudden stop just as the stranger burst out of the camper. Clem froze and aimed her gun at him, her finger instinctively going to the trigger. He saw her this time and he was terrified as evidenced by his heavy breathing and his eyes bulging out in shock.

"What… what do you want?" stuttered the stranger, his words dripping with terror.

"Are… are you alone?" mumbled Clem, her sore throat making it hard to speak.

"What?"

"Are you alone?" she repeated more clearly. "Is there anyone with you?" The stranger just stared at her in disbelief. "The RV," said Clem as she took a couple of steps forward. "Give us the keys and we'll leave."

"Please," added Sarah as she aimed her rifle at him.

The stranger continued to stare at them in silence.

"Now!" yelled Clem as she lurched forward, brandishing her machine gun as she aimed at his head; he just kept staring at her in response.

"No," he said with a sudden swell of defiance.

"We're not giving you a choice," reminded an impatient Clem. "Give us the fucking keys or we'll kill you and take them off your body."

"That still sounds like a choice to me," he noted. "It's a shitty one, but you know what… just do it."

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Just do it," repeated the stranger in an anxious tone. "I'm not giving you that RV, so just fucking shoot me already."

Clem pulled the trigger and a shot rang out, echoing through the cold air in every direction. It struck the pavement just past where the stranger was standing, right where Clem had aimed it.

"This isn't a bluff and these guns are loaded," she explained. "You're not getting another warning shot so do the smart thing and give us the keys before I get sick of waiting and just take them from you."

"No," repeated the stranger, trembling in fear but still defiant.

"You think I won't shoot you?" challenged Clem.

"You're talking a lot about it for someone who would," he reasoned, the tension in his voice betraying his logic.

"Maybe it's because I don't like killing people," said Clem as she took another step forward. "But you know what happens every time I don't kill some asshole I'm afraid is gonna fuck up my life?" Clem stopped a foot away from the stranger and aimed her gun right at his forehead. "They do just that, and then I wished I had just killed them."

"Then go ahead," he scoffed. "I'm sick of waiting to die anyway." Clem lunged forward and jammed the barrel of her gun against his head.

"Don't!" yelled Sarah.

"Last fucking chance!" yelled an infuriated Clem at she grasped the trigger. "If you really want to die so bad just say so one more time!"

"Stop!" Clem ignored Sarah and kept pressing her gun's barrel against the stranger's face. He was visibly shaking, terrified for his life. His eyes were forced closed in fear and what little Clem could see of his face was scrunched up in pain. Looking at the spot where the gun touched his skin, Clem realized the barrel had been hot enough from the warning shot to burn him.

She kept waiting for him to say something, but he didn't. He just cowered before her, waiting for his own death. It was only now she realized this person was barely any taller than her. The patches on his jacket were a bunch of different countries' flags that had been clumsily placed wherever there was space left. Clem forced herself to see Anthony in front of her, the smug bastard just waiting for another bullet to the head; she saw herself holding a gun to Jet's head instead.

"God dammit…" mumbled Clem in frustration as she pulled the gun back and turned away suddenly.

"Come on," said Sarah as she put an arm around Clem. "Let's just go back to the store and—"

"No!" Clem spun around and pointed her gun at the stranger again. "You… you're gonna help us."

"Help you?" he asked in disgust. "After—"

"Or I'll kill you," said Clem as she raised her gun.

"You won't—"

"Don't fucking push me!" yelled Clem. "I'm tired, hungry, and desperate. I don't want to kill you, but I'm not just gonna wait here until I die either. So, you can either help us out, or I'm just gonna have to shoot you. That's as good a choice as you're gonna get." Clem waited for the stranger to answer, but he didn't seem to know what to say, he just kept staring at her.

"Do you really want to die here?" asked Sarah suddenly. "Just… let us ride with you for a while, and then we'll leave. Okay?"

"Ride?"

"There's nothing left here, and the fishing sucks." Clem gestured towards the river. "You already know that part. We need to get out of here."

"And go where?"

Clem couldn't help noticing the suspicion in his voice when he asked that.

"We just need to get to somewhere that has some food left we can scavenge, preferably close to water we can fish in," answered Sarah. "We're hungry, and tired, and don't have a car. If you don't help us—"

"Then you're leaving us with a pretty shitty choice," finished Clem as she adjusted her grip on her gun. "So do the smart thing and just cooperate, then you'll never have to see us again."

The stranger stared at the pair of them, then sighed loudly.

"Let's just get this over with."

"You check out the back, make sure there's nothing waiting for us in there." Sarah nodded at Clem then marched right up to the side of the RV. She pointed her gun at the side of the door before pulling it open. While Sarah searched the back of the RV, Clem kept her eyes on its owner. He wasn't happy, and she didn't blame him, but she hoped he wasn't dumb enough to try something while he had a loaded gun aimed at him.

"There's no one back there," said Sarah as she emerged from the threshold. "There's a bunch of fuel cans and some other stuff, but that's it."

"Is there enough room for… our stuff?" asked Clem, hoping Sarah would get the message.

"Yeah, there's… there's room for it."

"Okay, stay back there and I'll ride in the front with him to make sure he doesn't try anything." Sarah closed the door and Clem turned back to the stranger. "All right, get in the front."

The stranger glared at her, which unnerved Clem. Try as she might, she couldn't block out the obvious fact that she was taking this person hostage. She knew it was wrong, and at this point she was pretty confident it had been a mistake as well, but if she stopped now she'd have nothing to show for committing these heinous acts; better to finish what she started, if only for Omid's sake.

Clem motioned with her gun for the stranger to get into the RV's cab, and he reluctantly obeyed. Walking over to the passenger door, Clem threw her machine gun over her back and pulled her pistol instead. Climbing into the cab, she made sure to keep her weapon aimed at him at all times. He just stared at Clem as she awkwardly climbed up the steps and scooted past the junk on the floor while keeping a pistol pointed in his direction.

"You gotta lot of guns," he noted as he stared at her pistol.

"Don't give me a reason to use them," threatened Clem as she settled into place on the upholstery and closed the door. "Pull up to that general store over there. My friend is gonna get out and pack our stuff into your RV, then you're gonna drive us out of here."

"Just… just give me a minute," he insisted as he reached for something on the dashboard.

"Don't!"

"It's just honey," he insisted, his voice trembling as Clem saw the little bear-shaped bottle sitting on the dashboard. "I'm obviously not getting fish for breakfast, so you mind if I eat something? All I got is this and a stick of jerky in my pocket. I… I really need it."

Clem groaned. "Eat quick."

"Yeah, sure." The stranger pulled off his mask, finally revealing the rest of his face. He looked a little like Jet if Jet was Anthony's age. There was also something about him that made him appear older than he really was. The way his shoulders slumped over from some unseen weight and the way his eyes were only half open like he wasn't fully conscious. Even the small movements he made to pick up the honey bottle had a kind of short delay to them.

Clem almost wondered if he was stalling for time as he slowly squeezed a couple of dabs of honey onto his tongue. While he fished the jerky out of his pocket, Clem carefully eyeballed the windows while keeping her face and gun pointed forward; no one sneaking up on them, yet. Watching the stranger, he grimaced as he hastily bit off half of the jerky before grabbing a bottle of water sitting on the dashboard.

"Okay, enough eating, let's get moving."

"Whatever you say." Clem felt her stomach drop as the RV suddenly sputtered forward. As they rolled up to the front of the general store, Clem grabbed her radio. "Okay, we're right outside."

"I see it." Clem watched as Sarah rushed over to the store and burst inside. She returned a second later rolling a bike out. She set it besides the RV and then immediately rushed back inside and rolled out the other one.

"Wait, if you've got those, what do you need me for?" asked the stranger in a decidedly angry tone.

"Have you ever tried riding a bike when it's freezing out?" barked Clem, her voice hoarse from yelling so much earlier.

"No, but—"

"Because we have, while starving and exhausted, and it nearly fucking killed us!" Clem found herself coughing a couple of times after that, as if to prove her point. He glowered at her, but he didn't say anything else. There was some light banging as Sarah loaded the bikes into the back of the RV, then went back to the store. Next she came out carrying their backpacks, and Clem was worried about her toting so much weight at once.

Clem heard the packs being loaded into the back, then Sarah raced back to the store one more time. It was quite a bit longer before she returned this time tenderly carrying a large bundle of blankets in her arms. Omid was in there and Clem wanted nothing more than to rush out of the RV and go to him.

"You two sure don't travel light for people without a car." Clem spun around and glared at the stranger. He couldn't see her face, so she raised her gun instead.

"Just drive."

"Where exactly?"

"Just, go back that way," said Clem as she gestured to the main road. "Go left."

"Left? That's… that's gonna have us going west."

"Yeah, exactly," said Clem.

"We're not going west," he declared.

"What, why—"

"We're not, and that's it," he insisted in a harsh tone. "I'll go the other way, that'll take us north and—"

"We came from the north, there's nothing there… nothing good anyway."

"Well what's past the river then?" Clem looked out at the side view mirror and saw the bridge behind them. She had traveled on it for a while not long after she got here and had found nothing, at least nothing she could reach on a bike before noon.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I guess we're gonna find out." The RV started moving and Clem tightened her grip on her pistol.

It was odd being in a moving vehicle again. She knew what it was like all to well yet still couldn't shake how strange it felt to go this fast again without having the wind constantly cutting her face. Or to actually enjoy the simple comfort of sitting in peace while traveling. These were small luxuries, or so she had thought. Taking a hostage just to get them back for a while caused Clem to reappraise them as essentials to their survival; she didn't how they were going to get along without them after this.

They traveled in total silence. The stranger had nothing to say and only a look of contempt on his face as he kept his eyes glued to the road. Clem didn't have anything to say either. Part of her was lamenting not taking Sarah's suggestion and just asking for help, but the other part of her kept whispering this was still safer. She still don't know this person, didn't know if he would help them, didn't know if he would lie to get them right where he wanted them, or just said no and left them on the side of the road.

Looking out the window, there was nothing to see. Flat hills gently rolling into short cliffs far off in the distance, the same sprawling emptiness that she had just come to know as Wyoming these days. The longer they were on the road the more worried Clem became it would never end. There were no buildings, gas stations, or any signs of civilization in sight beyond a single literal one approaching fast on the horizon.

'WELCOME TO COLORFUL COLORADO' it read. Wyoming did end, and after spending several months here Clem was glad to see it go, even if there wasn't much to look forward to right now. Checking the driver, Clem was concerned how long she could keep this up. He seemed to be growing increasingly agitated, and she was worried if they didn't find something soon he'd try something, and she'd have to be the one to stop it, because she was the one who started this.

"Hey…" Clem heard from her radio. "Are… are you there?"

"Yeah," said Clem as she picked up her radio.

"Are… are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" asked Clem. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're… I'm okay," mumbled Sarah. "I was just wondering if you can see anything coming up from the front?"

Clem looked out the windshield; more wide open nothing.

"Not yet," she reported.

"Oh…" Clem wished she had more to say. "Well, if you need me to do anything, just tell me."

"I'm okay. Just… take care of yourself right now."

"I… I will," said Sarah in a way that assured Clem she'd take care of Omid. It was utterly devastating seeing him like this, stuck in bed and wasting away. No matter how many bad things happened to them they could always stomach it a little easier with Omid around. Now, it felt like they were slowly losing him, and with him one of the only good things left in the world, so good Clem nearly killed someone just to save him, and might yet still today.

"There's a fork ahead," reported the stranger as Clem looked up. The road split into a neat t-junction, and there weren't any landmarks in sight. The only thing Clem could see was a small sign with a couple of arrows on it. The arrow pointing right said 'Walden', the one pointing left said 'Laramie'. Clem sighed as she realized their many arduous bike trips hadn't brought them nearly as far from the Vaquero as she had hoped.

"Which way?" he asked.

"Right."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah." They couldn't risk returning to Laramie, and besides, she was sick of Wyoming. Although Colorado wasn't doing much to distinguish itself at the moment except now Clem could see some more hills occasionally breaking up the empty fields that she had long since grown sick of. Looking down at the road, Clem's legs hurt just thinking about covering this much distance in a day on a bike.

And looking up at the sky, Clem found herself worrying about the weather too. It was warmer today and enough of the snow had melted so the roads were passable, but a thick blanket of clouds seemed to be chasing them south. It wouldn't be long before it moved in front of the sun and if it started snowing again that might end their trip prematurely. They'd be stuck miles away from any shelter, with someone that would have every reason in the world to kill them right now.

"All right, this looks good." Clem looked out the windshield and could see some buildings on the horizon. There was a barn coming up on the right and a single small sign that just read 'Cowdrey' in small letters. There were a couple of small farm houses, a few more barns, a lot of old trucks and dented cars left to rust, and nothing else. Calling this place a village would be an exaggeration.

"Okay, get out."

"What?"

"You said—"

"Somewhere we could find food."

"So, get looking."

"There's not gonna be shit out there."

"How do you know if you don't look?"

"Because I've personally tossed a hundred crappy little farm towns like this one," barked Clem. "There's never anything worth finding because what little people had in places like this was either used up or taken with them before leaving for somewhere better."

"You—"

"The only interesting thing I ever found in a place like this was a grave that just said… I'm sorry." Clem sighed. "Also, there's no water."

"There's some right there," he said as he pointed out the window.

"Some shallow frozen pond that won't have any fish in it."

"You just said—"

"Would you fish in there?" asked Clem suddenly.

"What?"

"You stopped to fish earlier so I know you know how, and if you had a choice would that be the place you'd stop to fish in?"

The stranger looked out at the pond and winced.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Cluh… um, are you there?"

Clem picked up her radio. "Yeah."

"We're not stopping here are we? I can't see a lot from the windows but this looks even worse than where we were before."

Clem just stared at the stranger until he threw up his arms suddenly. "Fine," he said as he grabbed the steering wheel.

"You want to get rid of us? Then keep an eye out for somewhere that doesn't already look like a graveyard."

Clem raised her gun and the stranger started driving again. The silence was deafening and it made every second of this long journey all the tenser. Clem knew what it was like to be held captive, and she knew if their positions were reversed she'd be looking for any opportunity to escape. This meant she couldn't risk looking away from her captive for a second. She did her best to stifle any coughs she felt coming and kept her gun pointed ahead even as her hand ached from holding it so long.

Eventually, another town appeared on the horizon. A sign announced it as 'WALDEN' and it was certainly bigger than the last place they stopped. Rows of small single-story houses made up the border along with a tiny church and not so-tiny farming supply store with big rolling doors on the side. Not far beyond them were some brick storefronts and restaurants in what Clem assumed was probably the center of Walden.

"Okay, this is a real town," said the stranger. "And we went over a river on the way in. It wasn't big, but it didn't look any smaller than the one you two held me up in front of. So, you're good to leave, right?"

"I don't know," said Clem as she examined the streets. The broken open windows and busted down doors were bad omens. It looked like this place had already been thoroughly picked over.

"Come on, you said you'd let me go if I just gave you a ride!"

"A ride to somewhere we can find food," reminded Clem.

"Well get out and check," he suggested.

"So you can drive off and ditch us before we find out?"

"Well one of us is gonna have to do something." The stranger's face sunk right after saying that. "You're gonna make me get out and look, aren't you?"

Clem hadn't considered that, but now she was. It would be easier than doing it herself, and if he didn't come back then they'd get the RV. But looking at him, the fear hanging off his face while anger welled up behind his eyes, Clem found herself reaching for her radio instead.

"Suh…" Clem cursed herself for nearly saying Sarah's name. "Hey… you see that dollar store just outside?"

"Yeah."

"Could you check it out, see if there's anything worth taking?"

"Yeah, just keep an eye out. This place looks picked clean but that might just be because people here moved everything to one building, like back in Tulsa." Clem heard the camper door open and close behind them, then saw Sarah run into the dollar store.

"How much food do you expect to find in a dollar store?" he asked Clem.

"Probably none," she answered.

"Well then why are we doing this? Is this just so you won't find anything and you'll have an excuse to keep my RV a little longer?" he challenged. "Why don't we see if there's a grocery store or something?"

"Those are always the first places people check, which means there always cleaned out nowadays," informed Clem. "After that, usually they come to places like this."

"But you just said you don't think you'll find any food here either."

"Yeah, but depending on what the rest of the store looks like, that'll tell us if anyone left any scraps here to pick out of all the houses."

"What?" he asked in utter confusion. "What kind of sense does that make?"

"Look, say you were staying here, and you didn't want to leave. Maybe you thought rescue was coming, or maybe just because it's the middle of fucking winter and don't want to move unless you have no other choice," suggested Clem, trying not to sound too bitter.

"The longer people stayed the more they would need stuff other than food just to keep going. Batteries, clean clothes, tools, books or anything to take your mind off of how shitty everything has become. And since usually there's plenty of those things left, people won't ever think twice of someone just coming in and taking them from a store like that."

"Okay, but how does that tell you if there's food in the rest of town?"

"Because, the longer they stayed, the more they would have taken. If you go into a town and the clothing or hardware sections of a big shop are still mostly there, it means the people staying left before digging out every last can of food someone forgot was sitting in the back of their kitchen cabinets. They probably just packed up and left figuring they'll just go somewhere the stores still have food instead of eating that junk."

Clem groaned as she thought about the canned lentils they were forced to eat two nights ago. "But people who don't, or can't just leave as soon as the good food is gone, they dig in. They have to, they have to find ever last thing that someone could still eat before they even think about leaving. And in a town like that, with a store like this—"

"It's a complete mess in here," announced Sarah from the radio. "There's not even gum left and most of the shelves are almost empty, and the ones that aren't just have useless junk on them; keychains, broken toys, they didn't even leave any magazines to burn. I don't think anyone's been here in a long time either, there's a lot of dust."

"All right, just get back in the RV," said Clem.

"I'll be out in a minute," said Sarah. "I'm gonna double check to make sure I didn't miss anything."

Clem put her radio down and noticed the stranger staring at her in frustration. "That store we were staying at, the one we kept our bikes in? There wasn't much left in there when we got there, and there was even less when we left just now."

"Oh come on!" Clem raised her pistol while her hand went for the grenade on her belt. This was enough to frighten the stranger, but not silence him. "What do you want from me?" he asked in desperation, his voice shaking along with the rest of his body.

"We told you, just a ride to somewhere we can find a bit of food."

"That could take all day—or several!" he argued. "You know I'm gonna have to find something to eat after this? I was hoping to catch a fish today but that's not probably gonna happen now."

"You might have a better chance if you hurry up," suggested Clem.

"And you know this thing is gonna run out of gas eventually?"

"We'll get more then."

"You think I know how to do that?"

"Would you be out here in an RV if you didn't?" He didn't answer her, so Clem let go of the grenade and picked up her radio. "Hey, did you see anything in the back of the RV that this guy could use to get diesel?"

Clem only had to wait a second before Sarah answered. "There's a hand pump attached to a really long hose." The stranger groaned as he let his head collapse onto the steering wheel. "It's right next to his fuel cans."

"It takes a fucking eternity to get enough gas with that thing," he mumbled, rubbing his head as he did. "I never should have left."

"Left where?"

The stranger looked over at Clem suddenly, and she just kept staring at him, waiting for an answer. There was a slight bumping sound as Sarah returned to the RV, at which point the stranger turned the key and shifted the vehicle into drive. He was being too cooperative now and clearly was hoping she would forget what he just said. Where had he come from? Clem didn't know, but she had one sneaking suspicion.

"Vaquero." Clem watched the stranger's face carefully for his reaction; none. It's possible he didn't hear her so she coughed a few times to clear her increasingly sore throat and took a deep breath. "Vaquero." This time he heard her, and he turned and looked right at her.

"What?" he asked with all the urgency of an inattentive coma patient. She studied him carefully, looking for any obvious tells he knew that name. He mostly looked annoyed, as well as confused and more than a little tired. He seemingly had no reaction to hearing that word. Maybe he knew not to react, or maybe he still hadn't heard her clearly. Clem cleared her throat again.

"Nothing." His eyes turned back to the road and Clem didn't say anything else. Either he hadn't heard of the Vaquero, or was cunning enough to hide the fact he had. Clem reasoned prying any further might just put them in more danger, so she settled in for another long ride in silence. Before long they were back out on the open road and going south again, and Clem was left with her thoughts as she rested her gun on her lap, taking care to keep it aimed in the direction of her hostage.

She couldn't stop her mind from thinking back to the pair of robbers who tried to take the Brave from them. It had moved so far to the back of the long list of traumatic events in her life that she had mostly forgotten that entire ordeal. Thinking back now, she couldn't help but feel more sympathy for her attackers. Even at the time she could tell they were desperate, she just couldn't comprehend how badly.

Sitting here now, holding someone she'd didn't even know the name of at gunpoint, she couldn't stop the sudden swell of guilt she felt washing over her. She tried to rationalize it away: they had a baby they had to take care of, they had to do it because they were as good as dead if they didn't, this person could have been with the Vaquero, they could still be; none of it satisfied Clementine's guilty conscience.

Looking at him, hands shaking even as they gripped the wheel, terror still tugging at the sides of his weary face, it was like watching Sarah drive the Brave at gunpoint all over again, except Clem was the one with the gun now. Seeing her hostage gasp for air and tremble in fear, Clem turned away. She found herself looking right into the side view mirror and saw someone wearing a cracked gas mask staring back. It wasn't a pleasant sight, yet Clem couldn't help thinking she'd hate seeing her own face more right now.

"Wait, why are we slowing down?" asked Clem as she sat up suddenly, fearful the driver was going to try something. "Hey!"

"I gotta stop, okay," he answered suddenly as he pulled the RV to the side of the road.

"What, why?"

"I gotta pee," he said as he undid his seatbelt.

"What? Just hold it."

"I have been." He turned to Clem suddenly. "Either I take a leak behind that bush over there or I'm gonna piss my pants right here, what's it gonna be?" Clem looked at the young man, practically shaking with anxiety.

"Just go," she said.

He hastily shut off the RV, pocketed the keys, then burst out of the cab. With the way he was running Clem doubted he was faking it, but she couldn't be certain. Still, after he disappeared behind a couple of bushes running along the side of the road, she took the opportunity to pull off her mask. She coughed loudly, finally not having to stifle it, and hacked up some phlegm that she spat out the window. She scratched her face while grabbing her canteen with her other hand, and again she thought about the masked robbers who tried to take their RV.

Rubbing her pounding head, Clem briefly caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and turned away. She couldn't bear to see herself right now, to see the face of someone who nearly blew out the brains of a scared young man after convincing the kindest person she knew they had to rob him. She had made mistakes before, had regrets before, but never remembered choosing to do something so immoral, and it was driving her insane.

"Sarah?" she croaked into the radio.

"Yeah? I thought you said—"

"I just really needed to hear your voice for a second."

"Are you okay?" she was worried, which just made Clem want to run to Sarah and hold her.

"Yeah, I'm okay," said Clem, knowing there wasn't time right now. "Are you?"

"Yeah," she said. "Why have we stopped though?"

"He had to pee."

"Oh."

Clem looked over her shoulder at the bushes; she could see he was back there, and she didn't want to see much else judging from the way he was standing. "Is… is Omid okay?" Clem waited for an answer and found herself growing anxious when she didn't get one right away. "Sarah?"

"I… I got him to drink a little water before the last stop," informed Sarah. "He still won't eat anything though."

"Jesus, we…" Clem looked over her shoulder and saw the stranger walk out from behind the bushes. "He's coming back, just keep an eye on Omid until we stop again."

"I will."

Clem pulled her mask back down and put her radio away. She turned around and raised her gun as her captive came rushing back into the RV. He slammed the door shut then took a deep breath. Clem watched as he took the bottle of the honey off the dashboard. He quickly put a couple more dabs on his tongue, then pulled what remained of his jerky out of his pocket.

"Just let me eat this and then we'll go," he pleaded as he pulled back the wrapper.

"Take as long as you need."

Clem leaned back and just waited patiently for him to finish. Before long they were moving again, and Clem watched as the bushes running along the side of the road slowly morphed into trees as they traveled further south. Then those trees began to multiply, until those empty fields she had become so accustomed to disappeared and they were driving through a thick forest of dead pine with a snow-capped mountain looming over them on the horizon. It comforting actually, being hidden away from sight again.

Occasionally, the stranger slowed down as he weaved the RV around a tree that had fallen onto the road. It dawned on Clem the road might become impassable at some point. Looking outside, she could see it was already past noon. Weighing her options, Clem ruled the silence couldn't stand any longer, she had to try something to diffuse the situation before they ended up stuck together overnight.

"I… I've been in your situation before," she said suddenly.

"You've had people make you drive them around at gunpoint after they tried to steal your RV?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes, actually." Clem took a breath and let go of her gun; her hand was killing her anyway. "One night, we were just sitting around, trying to relax, and a couple of people with guns burst in and tried to take our RV."

"Bullshit," he scoffed.

"No, it's not."

"And… what, you remembered that and thought it'd be a good idea?"

"No, I had forgotten all about it until today," admitted Clem in shame. "We've been struggling to stay alive for so long now, that we haven't had much time for anything else. But, sitting here for the last hour… or two, I haven't much else to do but think. We were so scared then, and I never understand how could someone do something like that."

"And what, you expect me to understand why you pointed a fucking gun to my head and told me you going to fucking kill me?" Clem sighed as she heard the anger rising in his voice.

"I'm sorry," she said with utter sincerity. "For whatever it's worth."

"It's not worth a damn thing," he scowled. "I've lost track of how many people have told me they're sorry; that word doesn't have any meaning to me anymore."

Clem just slumped over in her seat, tired and defeated by the guilt eating away at her. She was just about ready to tell him to let them out, but hastily thought of a compromise.

"Look, next town we find, we'll get out." Clem was surprised when he didn't answer right away.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"As long as it's got something that we probably catch fish in that's not too far away…" Clem swallowed a lump in her throat. "Yeah."

"Oh… okay then." The relief on his face lifted some of the guilt resting on Clem's shoulders and she found herself breathing a little easier. But it was short lived as Clem realized she'd need to get Sarah and Omid settled in somewhere warm and find them dinner before the sun went down, assuming they stopped somewhere that was even possible. The guilt lifted was quickly replaced by a familiar burden, one so overwhelmingly it reminded Clem of why she did this in the first place; she felt like screaming.

Clem secretly hoped the forest would never end, or at least not today. If they didn't find a town before it dark, then he couldn't drop them off anywhere, and Clem could negotiate a stay of execution without breaking her word. Looking at him, he was driving a little faster now, eager to be free of her. She couldn't blame him but found herself wishing the road would be blocked anyway. The day was half over already and they had no idea where they were going.

The roads weren't blocked however. Eventually, the forest thinned and gave way to a vista of a lake. It was fairly large, with some trees dotted along the sides and its shimmering water reflecting the rolling hills just beyond it. It'd be beautiful if Clem didn't know it was a sign of their impending stop, along with the literal sign near the approaching fork in the road.

The arrow pointing right said 'Hot Sulphur Springs', the one pointing left said 'Granby'; he turned left. Clem had hoped that Granby was a hundred miles away, and just sighed quietly when she saw a sign that read 'Granby 2'. It no time at all their new home came into view. She could see a barn in the distance and slid down in her seat as more buildings came into view; she gambled away her family's safety just because she felt guilty.

"All right, there was a lake," Clem groaned as she heard those words. "And this is a town. So… you're gonna get out, right?"

"Just…"

"You said you'd get out!"

Clem flinched at her own words being thrown back at her. "Just let me look for a good place to get out."

"You—"

"It'll take you a minute, okay?" argued Clem as she looked out the window, grimacing at the sight of a cafe with a sign shaped like a drawn wagon. "Just give us a chance to get settled before you ditch us, okay?"

"I… all right," he yielded. "I'll drive you through town and you pick where to stop, but that's it, okay?"

"Okay," conceded Clem as she started eying potential new homes in the afternoon light. At first, their prospects looked slim. A gas station, an auto garage, a strip of small stores with odd specialties; all pretty common sights on the edges of small towns, and all pretty unhelpful to hungry people trying to keep warm. She did spot a mattress store; at least they'd be comfortable while they froze and starved.

As they drove further into town, the buildings started getting closer together and it started to feel like a proper small city. A sign they passed had arrows for a police station and a library; possible leads for ammo and kindling. There was a repair shop with a dozen cars parked in front of it; maybe it had the tools to actually salvage one for themselves. A country restaurant called Maverick's grille; could still be food locked in the pantry.

"Whoa whoa, stop!"

"What? What do you see?" he asked in a fright.

"Just stop." Clem watched as they rolled to a sudden stop. Clem looked out at it like she had just found paradise; 'Brickhouse Grill and Tavern'. It was a small but fancy looking brick building with a chimney sticking out of the top. Now if only there was something left in the pantry, this might be just what they needed for the night.

"Hey," she said into the radio.

"I see it," answered an eager Sarah.

"You got those bolt cutters I found a couple of days ago, right?"

"Yeah, they're in my pack. I'll go check it out."

"You said—"

"She's getting out first," reasoned Clem as Sarah burst out of RV and rushed right up to the front of the restaurant. "If this works out, I'll be next, and then you can go."

"Keep an eye out while I'm in there," asked Sarah over the radio.

"I will." Clem briefly looked down the road for any signs of trouble; no walkers, no recent signs of people. She then turned back in time to watch Sarah poke her head into the restaurant for a second, then rush inside.

"I don't get what you two are so excited for," Clem looked at the stranger. "It's not like you can exactly order something to eat in there."

"It's a restaurant, it'll have a pantry or a freezer."

"Yeah, and everything in it'll have spoiled by now."

"Not always. Sometimes the locally owned ones have really big cans of fruit or vegetables or other stuff they just order from stores."

"What makes you think someone wouldn't have taken them by now?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"People usually lock up their stuff before they leave, and if the people in this town left right after things went bad, they may have locked away a few cans of stuff they didn't have room for when they left town."

"How do you know the people who lived here left right away?" he asked. "You haven't been into the dollar store to check yet."

"There're almost no cars left in the parking lots, except the auto garage and even it had a lot of empty spots. There's also no bodies in the streets, the windows and doors on the buildings aren't smashed."

"So?"

"That's usually not what it looks like when people stay put. Something always goes wrong, someone winds up dead or coming back from the dead, people panic, break stuff and more people end up dead which means they never come back for their cars.

"No, this place looks like everyone packed up nice and neat and just left. Maybe they saw the news and thought they'd be safer somewhere else."

"Would they?" Clem turned and looked at the stranger. He actually was interested in what she thought. "I mean, is there anywhere safe out there?"

"If there was do you think I would have tried to rob you today?"

"I don't know, maybe you got kicked out of somewhere safe for robbing people." Clem scowled at him in response, not that he could tell with the mask on. "I mean, this can't be it, just hopping from town to another hoping someone left something in the pantry?"

Clem sighed as she looked out at the small restaurant she was praying would be their salvation for one lousy night. "If there is anything better, I don't know how to find it."

"You're not gonna believe this," reported Sarah from the radio. "They got two huge cans of pineapple, and one of spinach!"

"That's great, and did the fireplace looked usable?" asked Clem.

"I think so, I'm gonna double check it right now."

"So, this means you're leaving, right?" Clem looked over at the stranger again. He looked a little aggravated, but mostly he appeared anxious. She knew that feeling too, the eagerness to be free of the people who took you hostage, and that lingering dread they weren't going to let you go after all. He was just waiting for Clem to hop out so he could drive away and be rid of them, just like she and Sarah had done themselves.

"Hey," said Clem into her radio. "Bring one of those cans of pineapple out here."

"Why?"

"For… him." The stranger raised an eyebrow after hearing that. "It's… the least we can—"

"Wait, she said there was a can of spinach."

"You want that instead of pineapples?" asked Clem in surprise.

"Yeah, is that a problem?"

"No…" Clem clicked her radio. "Forget the pineapple, he said he'd like the spinach instead."

"All right, I'm gonna look around to make sure I haven't missed anything, then I'll be right out."

Clem put her radio down and looked deeply into the young man's dark eyes. He was conflicted, she could tell, she'd been there herself lots of times. He obviously still wanted to be rid of her, but he seemed like he was willing to listen at least now; Clem just had to think of the right thing to say.

"You haven't been on your own for long, have you?" His face scrunched up in response. "That's a yes."

"I didn't—"

"You didn't have to, it's obvious," stated Clem, carefully policing her tone so as not to sound like she was insulting him. "You just stopped out in the middle of nowhere, you didn't even look around, and figured you were alone."

"I was watching every building closely as I drove into town," he argued.

"Yeah, from an RV we heard almost a mile away. We had plenty of time to hide while you were doing that." He groaned as he turned away. Clem also knew how that felt, beating yourself up for not knowing things no one bothered to teach you. "We've made the same mistakes before."

"Is robbing people a mistake you make often?" he scoffed.

"No… that was a new mistake." Clem took a breath. "But…"

"What about this?" he pointed to the burn mark Clem's gun left on his forehead. "Was that just another new mistake too?"

Clem scowled from under her mask. He said sorry didn't mean anything to him, so maybe a less apologetic approach was in order. "The next people you run into might not be as nice as that."

"You call that nice?" he growled

"Compared to how some people have treated us, yeah, I do," stated Clem in a loud voice. "The next people you run into might not bother asking for your RV, they might just shoot you from a mile away, and that'll be it."

"You're just trying to scare me," he dismissed.

"Yeah, that's because it is scary out there." Clem tapped the cracked lens on her gas mask. "I barely saw the people who did this before they shot me; if my binoculars hadn't caught the bullet I wouldn't have a head right now."

"What a shame they did," he said with a smirk. "If you lost your head I wouldn't have had a gun put to mine today."

"You're not listening to me," noted Clem. "I had my binoculars out because I was trying to figure out what the strange group of people I'd never seen before was doing. Then they shot me, and when that didn't work, chased us down, tried to kill us, and took everything we had to leave behind when we escaped with our lives.

"They're the reason we're out here like this. They're the reason we were desperate enough to want to steal your RV today. And you know what else? They're still out there, and last we saw, still looking for either us, or more people to kill and rob."

"You lie."

"You really think there aren't killers on the loose out there?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"I know there are, but I don't think these killers are real," he argued. "I think you're making them up to trick me into not leaving."

"If you backtrack to that first fork in the road from earlier and go the other way, it'll take you right to where we last saw them," suggested Clem. "If you're so sure I'm lying, go. I can promise you that you'll never see us there again."

"Do you have a point?" He was trying to sound tough, but Clem could tell she was getting to him. He was breathing faster, his voice was cracking, and he didn't look nearly as eager to drive away now.

"My point is we have a better chance of surviving together." He let out a weak laugh in response. "I'm not gonna pretend like what we did to you was nothing. When a couple of people pointed guns at us and tried to take our RV, we were scared out of our mind. When they got off, we just drove off and left them on the side of the road."

"And you expect me to not do the same?"

"I wouldn't blame if you did. But I will say, looking back, I kind of wish we hadn't. If, and it's a big if, but if we could have worked things out, there would have been four of us instead of two." Looking out the window, Clem saw Sarah approaching, a large can in her arms.

"There's been plenty of times I've been grateful to still have at least one person left in the world who can help me, and there's been just as many where I wish I still had more. Think about it, do you really want to be on your own out here? I know I don't."

He didn't say anything, but the hostility in his eyes had almost gone out. Clem opened the door and stepped out, confident he wouldn't drive off right away at least. Sarah came up to the RV and looked past Clem at the young man sitting in the driver's seat. Even with a mask on, she could tell when Sarah looked guilty.

"We're so sorry," she professed as she placed the massive can of spinach on the passenger seat. "I'm… I'm just gonna get our bikes and stuff out of the back, and… then we'll go."

Sarah stepped aside and headed for the back while Clem leaned in to talk to the stranger.

"We can help each other," she stated. "We need to help each other."

"You mean I need to help you," he corrected.

"You need help too, I can tell." Clem looked over at the spinach, then back at him. "We can help you; we owe you, and with time we can pay you back."

"And if I don't wait around for you to pay back, you'll kill me?"

"No, it's your choice. And yeah, it's a shitty one again, but it's yours to make." Clem looked over to see their bikes and backpacks sitting beside the RV. Sarah then emerged from the vehicle carrying what could only be Omid wrapped tightly in a bundle of blankets. She hurried him into the restaurant while Clem moved to the bikes. She started pushing them towards the restaurant. Half-way there, she realized she hadn't heard the stranger drive off yet. Looking over her shoulder, she saw he was still sitting there in the driver's seat, watching her.

"Go find somewhere nearby to keep warm, eat, then sleep on it," she suggested in as earnest a voice as she could muster. "We'll be here in the morning if… if you need help with anything."

He leaned forward in his seat, then took hold of the passenger door and slammed it shut. Clem watched as the RV drove away. Her heart sank as it shrunk into the horizon. But just before it disappeared, Clem saw it was turning. He was pulling into a gas station a few blocks away. Whenever he'd be there in the morning or not she had no idea, and she couldn't afford to stand around in the cold contemplating it.

She pushed the bikes along and set them in front of the restaurant, then ran back for their bags. Her arms strained under carrying so much weight, and her right hand was aching for relief. But she knew Sarah was busy with Omid, so Clem gritted her teeth and toted them forward. Awkwardly kicking the door open with her foot, she couldn't help thinking how much easier this would be with a third person helping her.

Dropping the bags inside, Clem took in her surroundings. It was a very fancy restaurant, with expensive looking furniture and a nice marble top counter in front of the bar. Other than a few overturned chairs and a layer of dust, the building looked undisturbed. The biggest clue it had been looted was the bar itself, there wasn't a single bottle left on the shelves. It was too bad, Clem thought she could really use a drink right now.

There was a cracking sound and Clem turned to see Sarah hacking a chair to bits with her tomahawk. She was making firewood, which prompted Clem into action. She hurried over to the fireplace where she found Omid lying. He was very still and very quiet, a sight that chilled Clem to the bone. She stifled a cough and poked her head into the empty fireplace, it didn't look obstructed. She started ripping pages out of a book from her pack as Sarah brought a bundle of broken chair over.

"Is he—"

"I don't know," admitted a panicked Sarah as she handed pieces of the chair to Clem who stacked them on top of the kindling. "He… he was quiet the whole ride. He woke up for a bit and I gave him some water, but he still wouldn't eat anything and…"

"Let's just get it warm in here." Clem pulled a lighter out of her pocket and quickly got the fire going. As the heat of the flames helped ward away the biting cold, Clem couldn't stop herself from staring at Omid. He was so stiff and quiet as he laid under the covers. He was pale, and thin, and it was breaking her heart. He hadn't gotten out of bed these last couple of days, and it was becoming increasingly obvious there was something very wrong with him.

She moved her hand to gently shake him, but stopped. Clem was hesitant to try and wake him because she was terrified he wouldn't wake up this time. She could never get the night where she thought he died out of her head. That horrible image of him laying there and not getting up again. It haunted her, she saw it every day, literally, she was looking at again right now. She forced her hand onto his shoulder and gently nudged him.

"Omid?" she asked in a whisper; no response. "Omid!" Clem leaned in as close as she could and placed her ear against the side of his chest. It was hard to make contact through his jacket and the blankets, but she could feel the faintest of movements, and listening closely she could also hear him breathing. Inching away from him, Clem was shocked to see his eyes were open now and staring directly at her.

"Hey there Oh…" Clem had to cover her mouth as she gagged slightly from stifling a cough. She spun around and took a couple of steps away, then coughed loudly. She hacked a few times, clearing her throat, then turned around to see Sarah already kneeling beside Omid.

"You must be thirsty," she said as took her canteen off her belt. Clem noticed the can of pineapples setting beside Sarah, and knelt down. It was truly massive, with the label stating there were over six pounds of pineapple inside. Clem reached into her backpack and grabbed a can opener.

"Is… is he drinking anything?" asked Clem as she opened the can.

"A little bit," said Sarah as she dug through her own pack. "But you must be hungry too, aren't you Omid?" She watched as Sarah took a bit of ice cream and offered it to him. Clem couldn't help but lean in and watch as she slowly opened the giant can. She waited with bated breath as Omid stared at the ice cream with half-open eyes. Sarah kept nudging it forward, and he kept looking at it; he bit into it.

"He ate it!" proclaimed Sarah as Omid chewed his treat. He still looked unhappy, just not entirely miserable now.

"Let's see if we can get him to eat a little more." Clem carefully pried the cut lid off the pineapples, then grabbed some utensils out of her pack. She fished out a spoon then used it to sample the pineapple.

"Well?" asked Sarah as Clem finished chewing.

"Tastes like sugary mush," she answered.

"So it's good," concluded Sarah.

"Yeah," said Clem as she slid the can over to Sarah. "It's a nice change from fish."

"And I bet Omid would feel the same way," said Sarah as she used her own spoon to offer him a little pineapple. He looked at it the same way he looked his ice cream, with little interest. But as Sarah moved the spoon up to his lip he opened his mouth and accepted him. His face scrunched up a little as he chewed it, but he swallowed it.

"That's a good boy," praised Clem. "You just keep being brave like that, okay?"

"And here, I got this just for you." Sarah pulled out a tiny cardboard box with an even tinier metal handle poking out of the top of it. It was so small she held it entirely between her thumb and finger, and she had to pinch the handle with her other hand to even get a grip on it. She started turning it and Clem watched as the gears visible through the opening on the front of the box started to turn and play a little tune; it was a tiny music box.

"Where—"

"At the dollar store," she answered as she inched it closer to Omid so he could hear it better. "I just wanted to get him something again and… I saw this."

Listening to the tune, as played by Sarah struggling to keep an even tempo with such a tiny crank, Clem suddenly realized it sounded familiar. Leaning in close to Sarah as she tried to hover the music box just over Omid's ear, she noticed what was printed on the outside.

"Over the rainbow?" read Clem in disbelief.

"I know right?" laughed Sarah. "I was just looking for anything, just a toy or something, and I saw this on one of the shelves. It was the only one left and… I knew I had to take it."

Clem laughed for probably the first time in a week. They used to love putting this song on for Omid; they used to love listening to this song with Omid. Clem hadn't even thought about music in what felt like ages, and yet Sarah found one of their favorite songs again, in a cheap souvenir, that she took from a raided dollar store out in the middle of nowhere. It was almost enough to make Clem cry as she knelt down to put her arm around Sarah.

Sarah gently held the tiny music box over Omid's head, and much to Clem's surprise, she watched as the pain on his face seemed to fade away. It didn't look like he was forcing his eyes shut anymore, and his sad grimace slowly eased into a vacant expression. He didn't look happy, but he did look peaceful, and for that Clem found herself very grateful.

"You just get as much rest as you need," whispered Clem as Sarah tucked Omid in. "I'm gonna find you a nice bed, and some more food you like, and everything you want by the time you wake up," promised Clem. "You just keep being brave, and eventually it's gonna be worth it."