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

97. Masks

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.