Young and Young at Heart (The Rewrite of The Walking Dead Game: S2) [TWDG/TWD]

18. Keep Your Friends Close

Clementine awoke to find a strong hand clamped over her mouth. She felt a sense of panic as she opened her eyes, unable to see who was holding her. Before she could scream she heard a familiar voice whisper in her ear.

"It's me." Christa released Clementine, who rolled over to find the woman holding a rifle.

"What's going on?" Looking around, Clem noticed it was still dark, but she could see what looked like faint daylight on the horizon.

"Pete fell asleep," answered Christa. "Now's our chance. Get your backpack on."

"For what?"

"To get away from these people, what else?" answered Christa, baffled by Clem's confusion. Clem dutifully picked up her backpack, but hesitated putting it on as she considered the situation. "Come on, what are you waiting for?" Christa noticed Clementine was looking in the direction of Carlos and Sarah, who were asleep in each other's arms. "Wait, don't tell me you want to stay because you like Carlos's daughter."

"No," denied Clem.

"Clementine, whatever you think of her, don't forget who her father is, and what he's done to us."

"It's not because of Sarah, and I haven't forgot," defended Clem.

"Then what?"

"Where are we going to go?"

"We'll go back to the cabin. Whoever these people are, they're probably not even there anymore," reasoned Christa. "They're not even looking for us."

"Pete and the others weren't looking for us either, and they're afraid of these people."

"Probably because they did something to them and are afraid of payback."

"I'm more afraid of them than I am of Carlos or Nick," argued Clementine.

"More the reason to leave. If those people really are worse, then the last place we need to be is next to the four people they're trying to find."

"But where do we go?"

"We'll go north and find the bridge before they do."

"No, they'd catch us. We're not as fast as them and they're looking for it too."

"They wouldn't be if you hadn't told them about it." Clementine scowled at Christa. "We'll figure something out later, for now, we just need to get out of here."

"This is a bad idea," argued Clem. "They're better at getting food than us, and we've got nowhere to go right now. You're just going to make things worse by taking their gun."

"It's my gun," reminded Christa through gritted teeth. "They took it from me."

"I just mean this isn't a good time to leave."

"This might be our only time," retorted Christa. "You heard Pete, he's not giving our guns back and I don't like the idea of choosing between being at the mercy of the same people who killed Omid and left you to die in the cold or fending for ourselves with no weapons." Clementine looked around, making certain she and Christa were the only ones awake, then reached for her backpack. She unzipped the top and revealed the pistol tucked inside.

"You've had that this whole time?" asked Christa.

"Just put the rifle back. If we have to leave later we'll have this to keep us safe."

"Or we can just leave now with two guns instead of one." Christa reached for the pistol but Clem pulled her backpack away.

"It's my gun," insisted Clementine.

"It was under the porch, wasn't it?" deduced Christa. "You wouldn't have it if I hadn't told you where to look for it."

"So? That doesn't make it yours."

"And that means Carlos was hiding it from the others. You really want to stick around with the likes of him? Someone plotting against his own people, and probably us as well?"

"No, but Pete says he'll keep helping us."

"And what if something happens to him? How do you think being stuck with just Nick and Carlos will work out for us?"

"Then we'll leave then."

"No, we're leaving now," insisted Christa. "Now you need to—"

"I don't need to do shit," swore Clementine.

"Clementine!" exclaimed Christa, trying not to raise her voice. "Since when did you start talking like that?"

"Since I felt like it," asserted Clem. "You're not my mom Christa. And you're not Lee either. I don't have to do what you say."

"I'm the person Lee asked to take care of you," reminded Christa.

"No, you told me he said he wanted both you and Omid to take care of me."

"Well if you haven't noticed, Omid's not here. So—"

"Didn't notice? I was right behind him when he died!"

"Keep your voice down," warned Christa.

"I... I was covered in his blood," recounted Clementine.

"Because these people shot him," remarked Christa.

"I wish he was here instead of you." Christa was shocked by Clementine's outburst. She gaped at the furious little girl in disbelief, devastated by what she said. Clementine however showed no regrets about what she said, her very gaze brewing with anger. "I'm not going. And you can't make me. So if you want to go, just leave."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," professed a dumbstruck Christa. "These people kill Omid, leave you out in the cold to die, run us out of our home, and you want to stay with them?" Clem watched as Christa's face twisted from hurt to angry. "Fine Clem, have it your way."

Clementine watched in disbelief as Christa stood up and walked away, staggered to see Christa would actually abandon her. But upon seeing Christa prop the rifle she was holding against a sleeping Pete, Clem realized she wasn't actually leaving. Christa returned to where Clem was sitting and lay down on the ground, a bitter expression on her face.

"I'm telling you right now," stated Christa. "This is a mistake." Clementine turned her back to Christa, not wanting to look at her anymore. She then zipped up her backpack and clutched it close, refusing to let anyone take it from her. As she tried to get comfortable on the dirt, she noticed Christa's jacket was still covering her legs. Clementine kicked it off, thinking it didn't feel all that warm anymore.