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

96. Winter

Clementine trudged through the mud, her fingers practically numb from the pile of snow she was holding. She dumped the melting white mess into her pot, then knelt down to examine the fire burning under it; it was going out. She tore some pages out of a magazine that was already falling apart, then fed the paper to the dying flame. It was little more than kindling but it had to do, it was hard to find wood not wet from the constant snowfall.

Looking up, Clem briefly thought she saw something moving across the road. She reached for her binoculars despite not having any; a habit she hadn't quite broken yet. She then pulled her machine gun off her back and clasped it as tightly as she could, her hands aching from the cold as she did. She watched the road and listened closely, fearful something was coming this way. She didn't see anything, she didn't hear anything, and yet she still feared something was out there.

Hurrying back to the pot, Clem saw the snow had melted. She moved over to where her backpack was lying on the ground and took out an empty jug and a funnel. Jet's survival guide said you don't need to boil snow if you gather it from the top of a heap. She wasn't sure where he had learned that but glad he had put it in his guide; he probably would have found a way into space if he had just been given enough time.

She carefully poured the water through the funnel and into the jug, careful not spill it. She felt a scratch in her throat as she held onto the heavy pot but held her breath and kept pouring, not wanting to risk contaminating their water supply. Clem dropped the pot as soon as it was empty and coughed into her gloves a couple of times. She was sick but there wasn't anything she or Sarah could do about it right now. They had no medicine and she couldn't afford to stop to rest right now, so she just ignored it the best she could.

Clem snuffed out the fire, what little there was left, packed up her things, then started walking. Carting two jugs of water along with a few boxes of bullets and most everything she had on her back was a literal load she was tired of carrying. She told herself she'd save time by not hassling with her bike this morning, only have to walk further than she expected to find snow still thick enough to safely collect for clean water.

After an agonizing walk that felt like a mile, a mile in which Clem's back ached, her feet throbbed and throat was sore, she eventually saw an old gas station come into view. It was a sorry old building that probably looked like it was ready to fall over before the outbreak, but Clem was glad to see it anyway. She burst through the door and dropped her bag on the ground, like a disgruntled Santa delivering the crummiest presents imaginable.

"Sarah?" called Clem as she stretched her back, trying to ease the stiff pain she felt. "Sarah?" repeated Clem a little louder as she looked around for any sign of her; nothing.

Clem found her hand instinctively moving to her pistol as she headed to the backroom where Sarah should have been waiting for her. Quietly pushing open the door, Clem scanned for any signs of her. The bundle of blankets resting on a pile of folded cardboard boxes that served as their bed was empty. Looking past it was the smaller bed they made, and Clem couldn't be sure if it was empty or not.

She hurried over to it, careful not to make too much noise as she moved in close. Clem knelt down, her hand trembling as she pulled back the covers. She found Omid underneath, carefully wrapped in layers of old shirts and other things they used for blankets. The dried tears and crusty mucus around his nose made it clear he had been crying, again; also he wasn't moving. Clem felt her heart in her throat as she reached her hand out.

"Omid?" she whispered as she shook him; no response. "Omid?" she repeated, unable to mask her terror. Omid's eyelids suddenly begun to stir and it was then Clem was struck with a horrible thought; what if he opened his eyes and she found a walker staring back at her? Omid blinked a few times and looked up at Clem, anxiety swimming behind his sad brown eyes as he awaited more bad news. "It's okay," reassured Clem as she pulled the covers over Omid to keep him warm. "I just..."