Three Orphan Pilgrimage (The Alternative to TWDG's Final Season) [Walking Dead]

90. Finite

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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