The air inside the RV was thick with tension, the kind that settled deep in the bones, leaving everyone restless and uneasy. The steady hum of the vehicle's engine and the rhythmic rattle of supplies shifting in the back did little to drown out Lilly and Carley's rising argument.
Lee stood near the door, arms crossed, his back leaning against the narrow metal wall. He kept his eyes moving, watching everyone and reading the room. It was what he always did, what he had to do.
Lilly sat near the front, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles had gone white. Her jaw twitched as she stared daggers at Ben, who was shrinking into himself at the back of the RV, looking like a cornered animal.
"You're just gonna let this slide?" Lilly snapped, eyes locking onto Lee like she was daring him to argue. "We can't just ignore this. Someone here is a goddamn traitor."
Kenny, still gripping the wheel, let out a sharp exhale. "We don't know that," he muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. "Could've been a mistake. Or maybe someone thought they were helping."
"It wasn't a mistake," Lilly shot back, her voice laced with something dangerously close to rage. "Somebody gave those bandits our supplies, and we almost got wiped out because of it."
Carley rolled her eyes, pushing away from the RV's side wall, arms crossed over her chest. "And you're so sure it was Ben?" she said, her voice dripping with dry skepticism. "You're reaching, Lilly. He's just a stupid kid. Hell, it could've been anybody. Maybe it was you."
Lilly's eyes snapped to Carley like a predator zeroing in on prey. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Carley shot back. "You're acting like a lunatic, accusing whoever makes the easiest target. Maybe you gave the bandits the supplies. I mean, you've been falling apart for weeks now, haven't you?"
Lee tensed, stepping forward slightly, his eyes flicking between the two women. "Carley, come on…" he said, trying to inject some reason into the conversation, but Carley wasn't done.
"You're paranoid, Lilly. You've been so desperate to control everything that you're seeing enemies where there aren't any. What's next? Gonna start putting people on trial?"
Lilly's lip curled. "Shut your mouth."
"No," Carley said, stepping forward. "I won't. I think you're just looking for someone to punish because your dad isn't here for you to push people around anymore."
The slap of those words was almost louder than a gunshot. Lilly flinched, her whole body going stiff. Her mouth pressed into a tight line, but her eyes burned with barely contained fury.
Then, the world lurched.
Kenny cursed loudly, yanking the wheel, and the RV bucked violently as it hit something with a sickening THUD. The impact nearly sent everyone flying. Lilly braced herself against the back of a seat, and Lee grabbed the overhead rack as the RV groaned and came to a shuddering stop.
"What the hell was that?!" Carley shouted, gripping the nearest handle for balance.
Kenny was already shoving the door open, stepping down onto the cracked pavement of the highway. "Son of a—Goddammit!" he swore, kicking the dirt. "It's a walker. Got it stuck under the damn RV."
Lee climbed down after him, scanning the road. The sun hung low in the sky, orange streaks painting the horizon, casting long shadows across the desolate stretch of asphalt. The RV sat still, one wheel slightly raised, tilting on the weight of the undead body trapped beneath it.
Kenny crouched down, assessing the problem. "It's wedged in real good," he muttered. "Gotta get it out or we ain't going nowhere."
Lee ran a hand over his face. "Alright. We'll deal with it."
The others filed out behind him—Carley, then Ben, then Lilly.
Lilly was still seething, pacing beside the RV like a caged animal. "This is just great," she spat. "First, we've got a traitor in our midst, and now we're stranded."
"You know what, Lilly?" Carley turned on her, arms flinging out in frustration. "You're acting like a scared little girl. Just lay off Ben!"
Lilly spun on her heel, stepping forward aggressively. "I'm acting like a scared little girl?!"
"Yeah, you are," Carley snapped, eyes blazing. "You think shouting at people is gonna solve anything? Or maybe you just like having someone to bully, huh?"
"Shut up, Carley!"
"No, you shut up! You're just looking for someone to blame because it makes you feel in control!"
Lilly's breathing grew sharper, her nostrils flaring. Her hand twitched toward her hip.
Lee's stomach dropped.
The world seemed to slow down to a crawl as he saw it. The way Lilly's arm moved—not just in anger, but in a way that was too practiced, too deliberate. The way her fingers curled around the grip of her pistol, knuckles whitening as they tightened.
And then—
Lee moved.
Just as Lilly drew the gun, just as she raised it, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and yanking it away. The gun fired, the shot ringing through the air like a thunderclap.
A wild, deafening CRACK.
The bullet ricocheted off the metal frame of the RV, sparking as it deflected and embedded itself into the asphalt.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. No one breathed.
Then:
"Jesus Christ!" Kenny shouted, scrambling to his feet.
Carley had stumbled back, eyes wide, heart hammering against her ribs. Ben had dropped to the ground, covering his head like a bomb had gone off.
Lilly stood frozen, her eyes wide in shock, in horror, in the realization of what she'd almost done. Lee's grip was still tight on her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin.
The group stared at her like she was a monster.
"You—" Carley's voice was raw, like it had been ripped straight from her throat. "You were gonna—"
Lilly looked down at the gun still clutched in her shaking hand.
Then, she ripped free from Lee's grasp and stumbled back a few steps, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.
"I—" Lilly's voice was barely audible.
Lee stared at her, his pulse still hammering from the adrenaline. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Lilly flinched at the words, her face twisting—anger, guilt, fear, all warring in her expression. Her fingers twitched around the gun like she wasn't sure what to do with it.
Carley's voice was ice-cold. "You were actually going to shoot me."
Lilly's eyes snapped to Carley, and something desperate flickered in them. "I—No, I—"
Ben was still on the ground, shaking. Kenny had gone pale, and he braced one hand on the RV as he tried to process what had just happened.
Lee took a careful step forward. "Lilly. Put the gun down."
Her breath hitched.
Then, suddenly, she threw the gun onto the ground with a sharp clatter.
Her hands flew up to her head, fingers tangling into her hair as she squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to block out the horror of what she had almost done.
The group stood in stunned silence, the weight of what had nearly transpired pressing down on them like a physical force.
And then Kenny let out a low, breathless curse.
"We can't keep her with us," he muttered, eyes flicking to Lee. "She's lost it, man."
Lilly stood frozen, her arms still wrapped around her head, eyes squeezed shut. Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, the kind that sounded more like an animal in pain than a person. The gun lay on the cracked pavement where she had thrown it, gleaming in the dimming light of the afternoon sun. No one moved. No one spoke.
The weight of what had just happened pressed down on the group like a crushing force. The bullet that could have ended Carley's life, that could have shattered whatever fragile unity they still had, was still lodged somewhere in the ground beneath them.
Carley was the first to break the silence.
"You were actually going to shoot me," she said, her voice flat and emotionless, but her eyes burned with a fire that could have incinerated Lilly where she stood.
Lilly's eyes flickered to her, full of something that looked like guilt, but it was fleeting, washed away by the storm of emotions raging inside her. Her lip quivered, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides, shaking.
"I—I wasn't—" Lilly choked on her own words, stumbling back until her spine hit the side of the RV. She squeezed her eyes shut again, shaking her head rapidly. "I wasn't thinking. I—I just—" She opened her eyes, staring wildly at Lee. "I was trying to protect us! Protect all of us!"
Carley let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Yeah? By putting a bullet in my head?"
Lilly flinched like she had been physically struck.
"I wasn't—I didn't mean to—" Her voice cracked. She suddenly looked so small, so fragile, a far cry from the woman who had once held the group together with an iron grip.
"Lilly," Lee said, his voice firm but not unkind. He took a careful step toward her. "You need to explain. Right now."
Lilly's breathing hitched. Her shoulders rose and fell rapidly, her face contorted with emotion, but she sucked in a shuddering breath and lifted her head.
"I was scared," she admitted, her voice thick. "I was scared, okay? Every day, it feels like we're barely holding on. I thought—" Her voice trembled, and her gaze darted around to each of them, desperate for someone, anyone, to understand. "I thought if I could find out who did it—who gave the bandits our supplies—then maybe, maybe we wouldn't fall apart! Maybe I could fix this!"
Ben, who had been silent this entire time, let out a shaky breath. He still hadn't stood up from where he had collapsed onto the pavement, his arms bracing himself against the ground. His face was pale, his eyes hollow.
Lilly's eyes found him, and something inside her cracked.
Her breath came out in a sob as she clutched her head again, her fingers digging into her scalp. "I have nothing left!" she cried. "Nothing! My dad—" Her voice broke entirely as she let out a choked, grief-ridden sound. "He's gone, and everything is falling apart! I was trying to do what he would have done! I was trying to—"
She stopped, choking on her own breath, her face twisting into something raw and ugly.
"I was trying to keep us safe."
There was silence. Heavy. Unforgiving.
Then Kenny's voice, low and filled with disgust: "Safe?"
Lilly's head snapped up. Kenny took a step forward, fists clenched, his face dark with fury.
"You wanna talk about safe?" he spat. "You just pulled a gun on one of our own!" He pointed a trembling hand at Carley. "You were gonna kill her, and for what? Because she called you out on your bullshit?"
Lilly's lip trembled. "Kenny—"
"No. No. I don't wanna hear a goddamn thing you have to say right now," Kenny snapped. "I've been puttin' up with your power trips for weeks, but this? This is where it ends."
His breathing was ragged, his hands shaking at his sides. He turned to Lee, and there was a burning certainty in his eyes.
"We're leavin' her," Kenny said. "She's a danger to all of us."
Lilly gasped, stepping forward. "No! Please—"
"You expect us to just sit in that RV with you after that?" Carley cut in, her voice sharp as a blade. "Hell no."
He swallowed hard, his mind racing. His instincts and his morality told him to find another way. They couldn't just leave someone behind; it was cruel and wrong. But
But then, as he turned, his eyes caught a small figure standing in the RV's open doorway.
Clementine.
She stood there, her face pale, her eyes wide with horror. She had seen everything. The gun. The shot. The way the group had nearly turned on each other in an instant.
And that was when Lee knew.
They couldn't take Lilly with them. Not after this.
He closed his eyes for half a second, then turned back to Lilly. His decision was made.
"We're not taking you with us," Lee said.
Lilly's breath hitched.
"No," she whispered. Then, louder, "No, please!"
Lee stepped back toward the RV, gesturing for the others to do the same. Kenny climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine with a loud roar.
Lilly stumbled forward. "You can't just—Lee, please!"
Lee turned away. The weight of the moment crushed him, but he forced himself to keep walking.
He climbed into the RV, and as the door slammed shut, the last thing he saw was Lilly, her hands shaking, her eyes brimming with despair.
The RV pulled away.
Lilly stood motionless on the road, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Then, movement in the distance caught her eye.
Walkers.
At least a dozen of them, shambling through the trees, drawn by the commotion.
She took a step back. Then another.
The RV disappeared down the road, the sound of its engine fading, leaving only silence.
Lilly turned to face the approaching dead.
And for the first time since her father died, she was well and truly alone.
The inside of the RV was eerily quiet, aside from the steady hum of the tires rolling over the asphalt. The weight of what had just happened sat heavy in the air.
Clementine sat on one of the seats, curled up, arms wrapped around herself. Her face was buried in her knees, and Lee's heart ached at the sight.
Carley sat against the wall, arms folded tightly, her jaw clenched. She stared out the window, her reflection ghostly in the glass.
Ben sat in the back, his head down, his entire body trembling.
Lee rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion pressing down on him like a boulder. He turned his head toward the driver's seat.
Kenny's hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. His jaw was set, eyes locked on the road ahead, but Lee could see the storm of emotions raging beneath the surface.
Nobody spoke.
Minutes passed.
Then, quietly, Clementine's voice broke the silence.
"Are we the bad guys?"
Lee's stomach twisted. He turned to look at her, his chest tightening at the fear in her eyes.
"No," he said softly. "We're not."
Clementine blinked, then looked down at her lap. "But we left her…"
Lee exhaled, running a hand down his face. "I know," he admitted. "But we didn't have a choice."
Carley let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Didn't we?"
Nobody had an answer.
The RV rattled on down the highway, the tires humming against the cracked pavement, but the silence inside the vehicle was deafening.
Even with Lilly gone, the weight of what had happened clung to the group like a suffocating fog. Clementine remained curled up in the seat, eyes distant, hands fidgeting in her lap. Ben hadn't spoken a word since they left Lilly behind, his body hunched in the corner like he was trying to disappear. Carley sat against the window, staring out at the passing landscape with unreadable eyes.
Lee sat in the passenger seat, one arm resting on the door as he gazed at the road ahead, lost in thought. The guilt of leaving Lilly behind gnawed at him. She'd been one of the first people in their group back in Macon. They'd survived so much together. But after what she'd done—after what she almost did—he couldn't risk keeping her around.
Beside him, Kenny's grip on the wheel was tight, his knuckles white. He hadn't said much either, but Lee could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly.
Finally, Carley broke the silence.
"We should talk about Savannah," she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Kenny let out a breath, eyes still on the road. "Ain't much to talk about. We get there, find a boat, and get the hell outta here."
Carley scoffed. "And just like that, you think we'll find a boat sitting pretty in the water?"
Kenny's grip on the wheel tightened. "You got a better idea?"
Carley leaned back, rubbing her temples. "No, but maybe we should figure out a backup plan."
Lee turned toward Kenny. "She's right. We don't know what we're walking into. We need options."
Kenny let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. "We got one option. Get to the coast. Boats mean safety."
Lee sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. Not now.
The conversation died down again, the road stretching endlessly before them.
The days following Lilly's departure were a blur of motion and emotion. The group, now reduced in number but still clinging to the fragile bonds that held them together, pressed on toward Savannah. Although the loss of Lilly weighed heavily on them, there was little time to dwell on it; survival demanded their full attention.
It was during one of their hurried departures from a temporary shelter that tragedy struck. The motel, once a semblance of safety, had been compromised by a bandit attack, forcing the group to flee in the RV. Amid the chaos, Duck, Kenny, and Katjaa's young son, was bitten by a walker. The realization was a slow, creeping horror that settled over the group as they sped down the desolate highway.
Kenny's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed ahead but unfocused. Katjaa sat beside him, her face a mask of shock, while Duck lay in the back, his breathing shallow, a feverish sheen on his skin.
Carley, ever the pragmatist, broke the silence. "We need to talk about what happens next," she said softly, her eyes flicking toward Duck.
Kenny's jaw tightened. "There's nothing to talk about," he muttered. "We'll find a way to fix this."
Lee exchanged a pained glance with Carley. "Kenny, we have to be realistic," he said gently. "We know what happens when someone gets bitten."
Kenny slammed his fist on the dashboard. "No! I won't have that. He's my son!"
Katjaa's voice was barely a whisper. "Kenny... they're right. We have to think about what's best for Duck."
The RV was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of impending loss pressing down on them all.
As Duck's condition worsened, the group was forced to stop near a wooded area to address the inevitable. Katjaa volunteered to take Duck into the woods, intending to end his suffering herself. Kenny insisted on accompanying her, unable to let her face it alone.
Lee, Carley, and the others waited near the RV, the tension palpable. Minutes stretched into an eternity until a gunshot echoed through the trees. Kenny emerged alone, his face a portrait of anguish.
"Katjaa... she..." Kenny's voice broke, and he fell to his knees. "She couldn't take it. She... she shot herself."
The group was stunned into silence. Carley placed a trembling hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Lee approached Kenny, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"We'll get through this," Lee said, though his own voice wavered.
Kenny looked up, his eyes hollow. "How? Everything... everyone I loved is gone."
The loss of Katjaa and Duck left a void in the group, but the harsh reality of their world allowed little time for mourning. Pressing on toward Savannah, their journey led them to a train halted on the tracks, an obstacle that seemed insurmountable in their weary state.
Continuing their journey, the group encountered a train halted on the tracks, an obstacle that seemed insurmountable in their weary state. As they investigated, they met Charles, affectionately known as Chuck, a resourceful and kind-hearted drifter who had made the train his temporary home.
" Name's Chuck," he introduced himself, tipping his hat. " Been riding the rails, trying to stay ahead of the dead."
Kenny, his grief channeled into a fierce determination, saw the potential in the train. " If we can get it running, we can cover more ground, put some distance between us and... everything else."
Chuck nodded. " Train's in decent shape. Just needs some elbow grease and know-how."
The group set to work, their collective efforts breathing life back into the rusted engine. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks beneath them provided a strange comfort, a semblance of progress in a world that had come to a standstill.
The train rumbled down the tracks, a steady, rhythmic clatter beneath them, carrying the group ever closer to Savannah. It wasn't a perfect solution—the train had its own risks, and supplies were dwindling—but it was better than being exposed on the open road. For the first time in what felt like weeks, they had a plan.
But the tracks ahead were blocked.
Lee had been monitoring the front of the train with Kenny for obstructions. Then they saw it—just outside of a small station, a bridge loomed over the tracks, and a gasoline truck was precariously hanging over the edge, blocking the path of the rails and forcing them to a grinding halt.
"Son of a bitch," Kenny muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We were makin' good time too."
The others piled out as the train settled into stillness. Carley had her pistol drawn just in case, moving in sync with Lee as they approached the obstacle. Chuck, quiet as ever, leaned on his guitar case, watching from the train's steps.
Then, they saw movement.
Lee instinctively raised a hand, signaling for everyone to stop. Two figures stood near the wreck, both armed—a man and a woman. The man was peering over the wreckage, clearly assessing the situation. The woman, tall with a sharp gaze, was the first to spot Lee and the others.
"Stop right there," she called out, hand resting on a pistol at her hip. Her stance was tense, guarded, but she didn't immediately raise her weapon.
Lee took a step forward, hands out in a gesture of peace. "We don't want trouble. We're just trying to get our train through."
The man turned, his expression shifting from concern to curiosity. "Wait—you guys are using a train?" His voice carried an edge of excitement.
"We got it running," Kenny said, stepping up beside Lee. "Now we just gotta get this shit off the tracks."
The man's eyes lit up. "That's genius! I told you, Christa, I told you a train was a solid plan." He grinned at the woman before looking back at the group. "I'm Omid, by the way. And this here's Christa."
Christa still looked skeptical, her gaze shifting between the strangers in front of her. "And we're just supposed to trust you? You roll in here with a train and expect us to help?"
Carley stepped forward, holstering her pistol slightly but keeping her fingers near the grip. "Look, we're all trying to survive. You've got a problem; we've got a problem. Why not help each other out?"
Christa exhaled, looking at Omid. He shrugged. "She's got a point."
A beat of silence stretched between them before Christa finally nodded. "Alright. Let's clear this damn thing."
With their combined efforts, the two groups worked quickly to remove the precarious gasoline truck hanging off the edge of the bridge. It wasn't easy—the vehicle was teetering dangerously, threatening to spill its contents at any moment—but with Omid's enthusiasm and Kenny's sheer stubbornness, they managed to carefully secure it and clear a path for the train below.
Once the way was open, Lee clapped Omid on the shoulder. "You two should come with us. It's safer than staying out here alone."
Omid grinned. "Hell yeah. I was hoping you'd say that. A train ride sounds way better than walking."
Christa hesitated, glancing at the group. Her eyes lingered on Clementine, who had been watching from the train steps. Something softened in her gaze. Finally, she nodded. "Alright. We'll come. But if anything seems off, we're out."
Carley smirked. "Fair enough."
With that, the group boarded the train once more, their numbers slightly stronger.
Upon reaching Savannah, their hope of finding a boat dwindled as they discovered the city's docks barren and the vessels either destroyed or stolen. Amidst the search, Clementine went missing, sending waves of panic through the group.
Lee's frantic search led him to a discarded walkie-talkie, a device Clementine had been using to communicate. As he bent to retrieve it, a walker lunged from the shadows, sinking its teeth into his forearm. The pain was immediate, but the dread that followed was far more profound.
Clutching his injured arm, Lee stumbled back to the group, his face pale.
"Lee, what happened?" Carley asked, concern etched across her features.
He swallowed hard, lifting his sleeve to reveal the bite. "I... I got bit."
A heavy silence settled over them, the reality of the situation sinking in.
Kenny clenched his fists, anger and sorrow battling within him. "Dammit, Lee. We can't lose you, too."
The weight of Lee's revelation hung over the group like a funeral shroud. The bite on his arm, already swollen and darkening, was a stark reminder of the inevitable. But there was no time to process the grief or panic—Clementine was still out there.
"Lee, we have to do something," Carley said, her voice urgent but steady.
"We're gonna get Clementine," Lee said firmly. "No matter what."
Kenny shook his head, his face tight with anger and sorrow. "We can't just go in blind. We need a plan."
Christa and Omid glanced at each other. "We should at least try to slow the infection down," Christa said cautiously.
Lee's eyes met hers. He knew what she meant.
"We cut it off," he muttered. The words felt foreign and terrifying in his own voice.
"Lee..." Carley started, her expression unreadable.
"There's a chance," he said, glancing down at his arm. "I don't know if it'll work, but if it means I can have more time to save Clem, I'll do it."
Nobody argued. There wasn't time for debate.
Kenny gritted his teeth and nodded, stepping toward him. "Alright... Let's do this."
Lee knelt down by an old workbench in the abandoned building where they had taken temporary shelter. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Christa had found an old hatchet—rusted, but sharp enough.
Omid turned away, visibly sick. Ben looked like he might pass out. Carley stood nearby, her hands clenched into fists.
"You sure about this?" Kenny asked, gripping the handle of the hatchet.
Lee set his jaw. "No. But do it anyway."
Kenny hesitated only a second before bringing the hatchet down.
Pain. White-hot, searing pain. It was worse than he had imagined. Lee barely registered his own screaming, his vision tunneling into a blur of agony as he collapsed forward onto the table. Blood poured from the stump of his arm.
"Shit, shit, shit—!" Christa grabbed fabric from her bag, pressing it against the wound to slow the bleeding. Omid, pale as a sheet, helped her wrap it as tightly as possible.
Lee panted heavily, his head swimming. His vision wavered, black spots creeping at the edges.
"Did it—" He swallowed hard. "Did it work?"
Nobody had an answer.
"Come on," Carley said, crouching next to him. Her voice was softer now but urgent. "We have to move, Lee. Can you stand?"
With her help, Lee got to his feet, his head spinning. The pain was unbearable, but he forced himself forward.
"Clem needs me," he rasped.
Kenny clapped him on the back, a mixture of admiration and pain in his eyes. "Then let's go."
The group moved fast, knowing the streets were too dangerous. The only way forward was across the rooftops, where the undead couldn't reach them as easily.
The city was silent except for the distant groaning of walkers below, a reminder that they had little room for error.
They reached a crumbling rooftop, where a rusted fire escape led down into a partially collapsed building. Lee was already weak, his movements sluggish, but Carley stayed by his side, keeping a careful watch on him.
Then, as Carley stepped forward, the ledge beneath her crumbled.
"Carley!" Lee lunged, reaching out with his good arm, but she was already falling.
She landed hard on the rooftop below, groaning in pain.
"Dammit!" Kenny swore. Without hesitation, he jumped down after her.
"Kenny, no!" Lee called after him, but Kenny was already at Carley's side, helping her up.
She winced, rubbing her shoulder. "I'm okay," she said breathlessly.
A sound from inside the building. Growls. Walkers.
Kenny turned toward the broken window leading inside.
"Shit," he muttered.
Walkers were already pouring in from a collapsed hallway, their snarls echoing through the space.
Kenny pushed Carley toward the ledge. "Go! Get outta here!"
"We can pull you up!" Carley shouted, reaching for him.
"No!" Kenny shoved her back, turning toward the walkers. "Get Lee and get Clementine! That's an order!"
"Kenny, don't—!" Lee's voice broke, but Kenny just grinned over his shoulder.
"Somebody's gotta cover your asses," he said.
The last thing they saw was Kenny raising his gun, backing up into the horde, and firing as the walkers swarmed him.
Carley gasped, grabbing onto the ledge as Lee pulled her up. They didn't have time to grieve.
Kenny was gone.
But they had to keep moving.
The group reached a gap between two rooftops, a rusty sign barely holding the buildings together. As they crossed, the sign gave way with a sickening creak.
The world tilted.
Lee and Carley crashed onto one rooftop, while Christa and Omid barely managed to land on the other.
"No!" Carley cried, scrambling to the edge.
"Are you guys okay?!" Omid called from across the gap.
Lee forced himself up, clutching his stump. "We're fine!"
Christa's face was pale, but she nodded. "What do we do?"
Lee clenched his jaw. "Meet us at the train station. If we don't come back, don't wait for us."
Carley looked at him. "We'll come back," she said firmly.
There was no other choice.
Christa and Omid hesitated, then gave them one last nod before disappearing into the night.
Lee and Carley turned toward the darkened city ahead.
They were going to find Clementine.
No matter what.
Lee's body screamed with every movement, his severed arm wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, his legs barely carrying his weight. His vision blurred at the edges, but he forced himself forward. Carley was right beside him, her gun at the ready, her sharp eyes scanning every shadow.
"Are you sure this is the place?" she whispered, crouching beside him near the alley entrance.
Lee nodded weakly, his breaths labored. "Yeah. The radio signal… it's coming from inside."
Carley tightened her grip on her pistol. "Then let's end this."
They pressed on, slipping through the alleyway and around the back of the building. The inn was a crumbling relic of the past, its neon sign flickering weakly. Lee pushed open the rusted side door, the old hinges creaking loudly. They both froze, waiting.
No response.
Lee exhaled sharply and moved inside, motioning for Carley to stay close. The hallway was dark, lit only by the dim glow of the city outside. The floor was littered with old papers and shattered glass.
Then, up ahead—light.
A faint, flickering glow spilled from underneath a door at the end of the hall.
Lee's stomach twisted. That's the room.
He glanced at Carley, whispering, "Watch my back. Stay hidden."
Carley nodded, slipping into the shadows near the entrance, keeping her gun raised and ready.
Lee swallowed hard and took slow, measured steps toward the door. His heart pounded against his ribs as he reached out with his good hand, hesitating only for a second before twisting the handle.
It wasn't locked.
The door swung open.
The dimly lit motel room smelled of stale air and dust. A single lamp on a nightstand cast long shadows across the walls. The room was mostly bare, save for a small, battered table and a chair.
And sitting in that chair was him.
The stranger.
A man in his late forties, balding, with sunken, tired eyes. His clothes were tattered but neatly arranged, and he sat with eerie stillness, as if he had been expecting Lee. In his lap, he held a pistol, his fingers resting lightly on the grip.
Lee's stomach clenched when he saw the bathroom door—locked from the outside.
Clementine was in there.
"Shut the door behind you," the stranger said, his voice calm, almost pleasant.
Lee didn't move.
The stranger sighed, tilting his head. "I don't want to hurt you, Lee. But if you try anything stupid… I will."
Slowly, Lee stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him. His eyes flickered to the bathroom door again, but he forced himself to stay focused.
The stranger smiled faintly. "Good. I'm glad you came alone."
Lee didn't correct him.
"You must have a lot of questions," the stranger continued, leaning back in his chair, the pistol still resting in his lap. "I know I would."
Lee gritted his teeth. "Where's Clementine?"
The stranger gestured toward the locked bathroom door. "She's safe. I fed her and gave her water. She was scared at first, but I think she's starting to understand."
"Understand what?"
The man's eyes darkened, his voice turning low and deliberate. "That you're not good for her. That none of you are."
Lee's fists clenched. "You don't know a damn thing about us."
The stranger gave a bitter chuckle. "Oh, but I do. I've been listening, watching. Ever since you and your little friends stole from me."
Lee's stomach dropped. "The station wagon…"
The man nodded slowly. "That was mine. The supplies, the food, the medicine—everything I needed to keep my family alive. And you took it." His face twisted with pain, his eyes turning glassy. "And now they're gone."
Lee remained silent.
"I had a wife. A daughter. A son," the stranger continued, his voice trembling. "My son was just about Clementine's age, and we were surviving. We were okay. But after I lost him, we had nothing left. No food. No medicine." His voice cracked. "My wife… she told me I was a failure for not protecting him. And then she took our daughter and left me."
The room felt smaller, the air heavy.
"I looked for them," the stranger whispered. "But it only took me a day to find them. They're dead now. Because of you."
Lee exhaled sharply, his throat tightening. "We didn't know—"
"Would it have mattered if you did?" the stranger snapped, his calm façade cracking. "You didn't even hesitate, did you?"
Lee's hands trembled. He wanted to deny it, to say they had no choice. But the truth was, they had taken the supplies.
And now, they were paying for it.
The stranger sighed, rubbing his temple. "It's okay, though. Clementine still has a chance. I can give her the life she deserves. She's strong. Smart. She needs someone to take care of her, someone who won't let her down." His eyes locked onto Lee's. "Not someone like you."
Lee's breath came heavy. He needed to keep him talking. Carley was in the room now—he had seen her shadow slip in behind the stranger. She was moving silently, gun raised, creeping forward.
He just needed to keep him distracted for a little longer.
"You really think you're what's best for her?" Lee scoffed, forcing a smirk despite the tension in his gut. "You're just some crazy, washed-up bastard who lost everything, and now you think you can steal my kid to replace your dead daughter?"
The stranger's eye twitched.
Lee saw Carley getting closer.
But then—the stranger's eyes flickered to Lee's.
Lee didn't mean to, but he must've glanced toward Carley for just a second—just long enough to tip him off.
The stranger reacted instantly, twisting in his chair, raising his gun—
Lee lunged.
BANG!
Pain exploded through Lee's shoulder as the bullet tore into him, knocking him to the ground. His vision blurred, the agony overwhelming.
Carley fired, but the stranger was fast. He grabbed her wrist, twisting the gun out of her grip.
They struggled, crashing into the nightstand, the lamp shattering on the floor. The gun was knocked loose, skidding across the carpet.
Lee groaned, pushing himself up with his good arm, his whole body screaming in protest. His vision swam, the world tilting around him.
And then—a second gunshot.
The stranger gasped, stumbling backward.
Lee turned his head.
Clementine stood in the doorway of the bathroom, holding the stranger's dropped gun.
Her small hands trembled around the grip, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Tears streaked her cheeks, but her eyes—her eyes were hard.
The stranger swayed, looking at her with something between shock and sorrow. He touched his chest, fingers coming away wet with blood.
"Clem…" he rasped.
Then he collapsed.
Silence.
The only sound was Clementine's unsteady breathing.
Carley was the first to move. She rushed to Lee, helping him sit up. "Jesus, Lee, you're shot—"
"I'll be fine," he muttered, though he wasn't sure if that was true. He turned his gaze to Clementine.
She was still standing there, staring at the body, the gun trembling in her grip.
Lee forced himself forward, his arm wrapping around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's over," he whispered.
Clementine's small body shook against his. "I-I had to…"
"You did good," Lee murmured, holding her close.
Carley looked down at the stranger's lifeless form. "It's over," she echoed. But the way her hands trembled, the way her voice wavered—they all knew it wasn't.
Not yet.
Lee gritted his teeth against the searing pain in his shoulder where the bullet had torn through him. He was dizzy, his body weak, but there was no time to stop. They had to move. Now.
Carley, still kneeling beside him, pressed a hand against his wound, her brows furrowed with worry. "You're losing blood, Lee."
"I'll live," Lee said through clenched teeth. "We need to get out of here."
Carley glanced toward the door, then the broken window, and shook her head. "Easier said than done. There's gotta be hundreds of them out there."
Lee forced himself up, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He steadied himself against the wall, ignoring the way the room tilted for a moment. Carley stood as well, shifting her gun in her grip before moving over to Clementine, carefully kneeling in front of her.
"Clem…" she said gently, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. Clementine's wide eyes were still fixed on the body of the man she had just shot. "Hey, look at me."
Clementine blinked slowly before finally tearing her gaze away. "I… I had to…" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Carley nodded. "I know. You did the right thing. You saved us."
Lee placed a reassuring hand on Clementine's head, trying to force a small smile despite the pain. "We'll talk about this later, sweetheart. But right now, we have to go."
Clementine sniffed, nodding quickly as she rubbed at her tear-streaked face.
Carley moved to the window, slowly peeking through the broken blinds before exhaling sharply. "Shit… there's no way we're getting through them. The streets are completely flooded."
Lee's gut twisted. The moans of walkers filled the air, an endless sea of the dead shuffling aimlessly through the streets of Savannah. They had been drawn to the inn from the gunshots, their numbers multiplying with each passing second.
There was no way out. At least, not in the way they had hoped.
Carley turned back to Lee, her eyes sharp but filled with worry. "You got a plan?"
Lee's mind raced, trying to think of anything, any way to escape. They couldn't go out guns blazing. They had barely enough ammo to survive another encounter, and he was in no condition to run.
Then, an idea hit him. A desperate, disgusting idea.
"Walker guts," Lee murmured.
Carley frowned. "What?"
Lee straightened as much as his battered body would allow. "They can't tell the difference if we smell like them."
Carley's expression twisted in disgust as realization dawned on her. "That's your plan?"
"You got a better one?" Lee shot back.
Carley opened her mouth but then shut it. He had a point. There was no other way.
Clementine bit her lip, shifting uneasily. "It'll work?"
Lee kneeled, leveling himself with her. "I won't lie, Clem. It's gonna be gross. Really gross. But if we stay quiet and move slow, they won't notice us."
Clementine hesitated but then squared her shoulders and gave a firm nod. "Okay."
Carley exhaled through her nose. "Goddammit, Lee." She moved toward the window again, shaking her head. "Alright. Let's do it."
Lee turned toward the stranger's body before looking away. Not him. He refused to use that man's corpse for this.
Instead, he and Carley went to the broken window and peered down. Just outside, a walker lay sprawled across the pavement, half of its head caved in from some past scuffle.
"That one," Lee pointed.
Carley sighed. "Guess I better get used to smelling like shit."
Lee pried the window further open before cautiously climbing out. His injured arm screamed in protest, but he ignored it, his feet hitting the concrete outside. He turned, helping Clementine down first, then Carley, who landed beside him with a small grunt.
The walker on the ground twitched slightly, its feeble attempts at movement pitifully weak. Lee didn't hesitate. He raised his foot and stomped, crushing the remainder of its skull with a sickening crunch.
Carley grimaced. "Every time I think I've gotten used to this, I'm proven wrong."
Lee crouched down, pulling out his pocket knife. He looked at Carley and Clementine. "You might wanna turn away."
Clementine gulped but didn't look away. Carley, with a resigned sigh, crossed her arms and muttered, "Let's just get this over with."
Lee worked quickly, slicing through the walker's stomach. The foul stench of rotting organs hit them immediately, thick and rancid. Clementine gagged, covering her nose with her sleeve. Even Carley had to turn away for a moment, dry heaving.
Lee reached inside, pulling out a handful of sticky, putrid intestines. They sloshed between his fingers, dripping thick, blackened blood.
"This is so wrong," Carley muttered.
Lee smeared the guts across his shirt, coating himself in the vile muck. The blood seeped into his skin, the warmth of decay clinging to him.
Carley cursed under her breath before grabbing a handful of the gore herself, smearing it onto her jacket with a disgusted grimace. "If we don't die out there, I'm never going to feel clean again."
Lee turned to Clementine. "Your turn."
Clementine hesitated, looking at the pile of guts like they might lunge at her. But after a deep breath, she stepped forward and let Lee rub the sickly, sticky insides across her jacket and arms. She whimpered slightly, her face twisted in revulsion.
"I don't wanna do this again," she murmured.
"Me neither," Lee agreed.
Once they were thoroughly covered in gore, Lee took a deep breath and stepped toward the street. The herd was right there, moving sluggishly, their groans rising and falling in a terrible chorus.
Lee turned back to Carley and Clementine. "Remember—slow steps. No sudden movements. Stay quiet."
Carley nodded, checking her gun before slipping it into her belt. "Let's get this over with."
Lee took the first step forward, his entire body stiffening as he stepped into the street. Walkers shuffled around him, their faces vacant, their jaws occasionally snapping at the air.
They didn't react to him.
Carley followed, her body tense as she moved carefully through the horde. Clementine clung to Lee's side, her tiny fingers gripping his sleeve.
They walked in agonizing silence, each step a battle against the instinct to run. The smell was unbearable, the sticky blood congealing in their clothes.
A walker brushed past Lee, its milky eyes staring straight ahead, barely noticing him.
Another one stumbled close to Clementine, its arm lightly bumping against her shoulder.
She whimpered.
Lee quickly and gently squeezes her hand. She bit her lip, holding back a cry, her little body trembling.
Carley, walking slightly behind them, was breathing in slow, measured breaths, her fingers twitching toward her gun.
Slowly, step by step, they weaved their way through the horde.
Lee's head spun. His injured body was barely holding together, but he couldn't stop. They were close. So close.
Then—a distant sound. A sharp, metallic clang in the distance.
Every walker in the area froze.
The noise came from an alleyway nearby, some unfortunate survivor making a fatal mistake. The walkers turned, moving in that direction, surging toward the sound like a tide.
Lee grabbed Clementine's hand. "Come on! Now!"
They hurried, keeping their pace just slow enough to avoid suspicion. Walkers pressed against them, their groans louder as they passed.
The herd moved away, thinning just enough for them to slip through a broken gate leading out of the street.
The second they were clear, they ran.
Down an alley, through an abandoned storefront, away from the suffocating horde.
By the time they stopped, panting and shaking, they had left the worst of the herd behind.
Carley slumped against a wall. "I swear to god, Lee… if you ever suggest something like that again, I'm punching you."
Lee let out a breathless chuckle. "Fair."
Clementine just sniffled, wiping tears from her eyes. "Can we clean up now?"
Lee knelt beside her. "Soon, Clem. We just have to find the others first."
The narrow alleyway was silent save for the sound of their hurried footsteps. The three of them—Lee, Carley, and Clementine—had barely escaped the mass of walkers in the streets. Their bodies were still covered in gore, but their luck wouldn't hold out forever. They had to keep moving.
Lee forced himself forward, gritting his teeth against the burning pain in his shoulder. His left arm—what was left of it—throbbed with a dull ache, and his legs felt like lead. Every step sent a wave of exhaustion crashing through his body.
He knew it wasn't just the bullet wound.
It's the bite.
The infection was spreading. His vision had started to blur at the edges, and his limbs felt heavier with each passing second. But he couldn't stop. Not yet.
Carley glanced at him from the side, her brows furrowed with concern. "Lee… how are you holding up?"
Lee let out a sharp breath, trying to straighten his posture. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice wavered.
Carley wasn't convinced. "Bullshit," she muttered. "You're pale as hell, and you're swaying like you're about to drop."
Lee forced a weak smirk. "Just tired."
"You've lost a lot of blood," Carley pressed. "You need to—"
Lee's steps suddenly faltered. His foot caught against a broken piece of pavement, and the world spun violently around him.
"Lee?" Clementine's voice was laced with panic as she grabbed at his sleeve.
His vision darkened. His body felt disconnected, distant. The sounds of the world faded into muffled echoes.
Then—everything went black.
"Lee! Lee!"
Clementine's voice cut through the darkness. Her small hands shook him, her panicked breathing quick and shallow.
Carley was already kneeling beside him, slapping his cheek lightly. "Shit, come on, wake up!"
Lee didn't move.
Clementine's eyes darted around the alley. The street beyond them was filled with walkers, their guttural moans growing louder. The smell of death was suffocating.
Carley's head snapped toward the sound of the approaching horde. "Clem, we gotta get him out of here. Now."
Clementine looked at her with wide, teary eyes. "W-What do we do?"
Carley swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. "We carry him."
"But he's too heavy!"
Carley exhaled sharply, looking around desperately. "Okay, okay, listen to me. I'll lift him up, and you help me move him, alright?"
Clementine nodded, even as her hands trembled.
Carley knelt, gripping Lee under his arms, gritting her teeth as she lifted. "Okay, help me, Clem!"
Clementine grabbed Lee's legs, struggling under his weight. Together, they managed to lift him, though every step was difficult.
The moans grew louder.
Walkers were coming.
"Shit," Carley hissed. "Come on, come on—there!"
She spotted a jewelry store just ahead, its glass doors cracked but intact. It was their best shot.
Dragging Lee between them, they stumbled forward, their muscles screaming in protest. The weight of his unconscious body made it agonizingly slow.
A walker lunged at them from the side.
Clementine yelped, tightening her grip on Lee's leg.
Carley let go with one hand, quickly drawing her pistol and firing. The shot echoed through the alley, the bullet tearing through the walker's skull.
Another groan.
Then another.
The gunshot had drawn more of them.
"Move, move!" Carley shouted.
They reached the jewelry store, practically throwing themselves through the door. Carley slammed it shut behind them, locking it as quickly as she could.
A walker crashed into the glass, smearing its rotting face against it. More followed, their bony fingers scraping against the surface.
Clementine panted, still holding onto Lee. "Are… are we safe?"
Carley pressed her forehead against the cool glass, watching the horde outside. The walkers weren't breaking through—yet.
"For now," she muttered.
She turned to look at Lee, who was still unconscious, his breathing shallow.
Clementine sniffled, rubbing at her eyes. "Is he gonna be okay?"
Carley bit her lip, kneeling beside him. Lee's skin was damp with sweat, his breath labored. His bullet wound was still bleeding sluggishly, but worse than that—his veins were darkening around his bite.
He was getting worse.
Carley clenched her fists, forcing the lump in her throat down. She refused to cry. Not now.
Instead, she reached out and brushed a stray curl from Lee's forehead. "He's strong, Clem," she whispered. "He's made it this far. He's gonna fight."
Clementine nodded, though her hands were still shaking.
Carley sighed and leaned back, looking around the store. The place had been looted, but the back room seemed untouched.
"We need to get him comfortable," she said, standing up. "Come on, help me."
Together, they dragged Lee toward the back, carefully lowering him against the wall. Carley tore off part of her sleeve, using it to wipe the sweat from his face.
Clementine sat beside him, watching his chest rise and fall weakly.
Carley looked at her. "Clem… I need you to be strong, okay?"
Clementine sniffled but nodded. "I will."
Carley hesitated for a moment before pulling the girl into a tight hug. Clementine stiffened at first but then melted into it, wrapping her arms around Carley's waist.
"We're gonna get through this," Carley whispered. "We have to."
Clementine nodded against her.
Outside, the walkers scraped at the glass.
The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the small jewelry store as Carley struggled to pull down the security gate. The heavy metal barrier groaned as it slid into place, cutting off the walkers from their line of sight. A few of them still pounded weakly at the glass outside, but for now, they were safe.
Carley took a shaky breath, stepping back and pressing her hands against her knees. "That should hold," she muttered, wiping sweat and grime from her face.
She turned back to where Clementine sat beside Lee, her small hands gripping his limp arm. Lee's breathing was slow and uneven, his skin glistening with sweat. His head lolled slightly to the side, his eyes fluttering as he slowly drifted back into consciousness.
"Lee!" Clementine gasped, scrambling closer. "Lee, you're awake!"
Carley moved forward, kneeling beside them. "Jesus, Lee, you had us scared," she said, her voice softer than usual. She placed a hand against his forehead. His skin was burning up, his veins darkening, spreading from the bite and pooling around his wound.
Lee's cracked lips curled into the faintest of smiles. "Guess... I don't scare easy," he murmured weakly.
Clementine sniffled, blinking away tears. "You're gonna be okay, right? We just have to rest, and then we'll find Christa and Omid."
Lee's smile faltered. He slowly lifted his good arm and gently placed a trembling hand on Clementine's cheek. "Sweet pea," he murmured, his voice weak but filled with warmth. "You gotta listen to me now, okay?"
Clementine nodded quickly. "Okay, I'm listening."
Lee took a slow, shuddering breath. "It's... too late for me."
Clementine stiffened. Her grip on his arm tightened. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, you're gonna be fine. You—you just need to rest! You need medicine!"
Carley sat back on her heels, staring at Lee as the truth settled deep in her chest. She had known this was coming. She had always known. But hearing him say it still sent a sharp, agonizing pain through her heart.
Clementine was still shaking her head, gripping Lee's shirt. "We can help you! W-We just need to—"
Lee's hand weakly cupped her cheek, his thumb wiping away her tears. "Clem," he said softly, "look at me."
Her lip trembled as she met his eyes.
"You gotta be strong now," Lee whispered. "For me. For Carley."
Tears streamed down Clementine's face. "I don't wanna be alone," she sobbed.
Carley inhaled sharply and reached out, pulling Clementine into her arms. She rubbed the little girl's back, her voice soft but firm. "You're not alone, Clem. I promise. I'm here."
Lee looked up at Carley then, his eyes heavy-lidded, his strength fading fast. He swallowed hard, then mustered what little breath he had left. "Carley…"
Carley met his gaze, her throat tight.
"Take care of her," he whispered.
Carley clenched her jaw, blinking rapidly as her vision blurred. "You don't even have to ask," she murmured. "I swear to you, Lee, I'll protect her."
Lee exhaled softly, his head rolling slightly against the wall. "Good… good." His lips parted slightly, but his voice was barely above a whisper. "I need… I need you to do one last thing for me."
Carley stiffened, already knowing what he was about to say.
"Don't let me turn."
Clementine gasped, shaking her head violently. "No! No, no, no! You can't!" She turned frantically to Carley. "Tell him! Tell him he's gonna be okay!"
Carley swallowed thickly, her hands tightening around the child's small frame. "Clem…" she whispered.
"No!" Clementine clung to Lee, sobbing into his chest. "We—we can wait! Maybe the others will find us! Maybe there's a way—"
Lee's breathing was shallow now, his body trembling. He squeezed Clementine's hand as best he could. "I love you, Clem," he whispered. "You're so smart… and strong. You're gonna be okay. Just remember to always keep moving forward."
Clementine shook her head against his chest. "Please… please don't leave me."
Carley reached forward, gently pulling Clementine away. The little girl fought against her, but Carley held firm, keeping her close. "Clem, I need you to be brave right now," she whispered, pressing a kiss against the girl's forehead.
Lee exhaled softly and then looked at Carley one last time. "Don't let her see."
Carley's breath hitched.
She nodded.
Carley gave him a small, reassuring smile, her eyes filled with warmth. "It's okay," she said softly. "You can rest now."
Her hands trembled slightly as she cupped his face. Leaning forward, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering for a moment.
When she pulled back, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Thank you," she murmured, her tears finally spilling over.
Lee's lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.
Carley closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. She pulled Clementine into her arms, turning her away from Lee. Clementine cried into Carley's chest, gripping her shirt tightly.
Carley's hands trembled as she raised her gun.
She didn't want to do this.
But she had to.
She owed him that.
A single gunshot echoed through the empty jewelry store.
Clementine sobbed harder into Carley's embrace, her small body trembling uncontrollably.
Carley held her tightly, her own tears falling freely as she whispered, "Shh… It's okay, sweetie. It's okay."
But it wasn't.
Because Lee was gone.
And nothing would ever be okay again.
It's kinda wild to think about how much could've changed if Carley had survived and become Clementine's guardian instead of Christa. Lee's death was already heartbreaking, but having Carley there to take up the mantle? That would've been a huge shift in the story. Clem's personality, her decisions, maybe even the way she saw the world—all of it could have been different. Would she have turned out more hopeful? More trusting? Or maybe just as hardened, but in a different way?
The Walking Dead game thrives on these "what ifs," and this is one of those scenarios that feels like it could have taken things in an entirely new direction. Kinda makes you wish there was a version of the game where we could see it play out, huh?