Clementine watches a moth fluttering around a tree, its delicate wings shimmering in the fading light. She reaches out to touch it, her fingers almost brushing against its fragile body, but with a sudden flutter, it takes off into the air. She follows its ascent, feeling a pang of disappointment as it disappears.
"You done over there?" James asks, his voice laced with a mocking tone that sends a shiver down her spine.
"Yeah, one second!" Sarah replies, emerging from the bushes, a hint of relief in her voice as she zips up her pants. She turns to Clementine with a grateful smile. "Thanks for coming with me. It's scary out here. I know they made you... It's still nice that you came."
Clementine returns the smile, though it feels strained. "We're friends. Friends look out for one another."
"We are, aren't we? Well, if you need to pee, let me know. I'll keep lookout for you, too." Sarah offers.
"Uh... okay." Clementine nods.
As they return to the truck, a sudden chill runs down her spine as Carver appears. "Tie them up, kid," he orders, his voice dripping with authority.
"Will do," James responds curtly, rolling his eyes and dismissing Carver with a wave as the man turns away.
Clementine watches Carver intently, feeling her heart race. He speaks into the radio, his voice echoing in the still air. "Well, we're on our way, probably thirty minutes out. Make sure everyone's prepped. Emotions might be running high. Carver out."
James's grip on Sarah's hands is rough as he ties them up, causing her to wince. "Don't go squirming now," he says, a cocky grin plastered on his face.
Carver pivots, addressing James with a sharp gaze. "Have Troy been wasting fuel to keep that fuckin' heater going?"
"Nah, ain't happening. We've been out here freezing our damn asses off," James shakes his head.
"Sorry, kid. But you know we ain't got much fuel to waste it on things like that." Carver chuckles.
"Sure thing, but you better have some chili beans waitin' for us when we get back," James replies with a grin.
Carver chuckles. "Sure." He shrugs, then turns to Clementine, his gaze piercing. "It ain't polite to listen to other folks' conversations. Has anyone ever taught you that? Where's your manners?"
"I'm sorry," Clementine mutters, looking down.
"It's okay, honey. We'll chalk it up as a lesson learned, alright?" Carver's tone softens slightly. "Get the girls in back with the rest of 'em. We got a bit of a drive ahead of us."
James quickly ties Clementine's hands, his movements brisk and efficient. He opens the back of the truck, and the girls climb in, their faces pale with fear. He closes the door just as Kenny's shouts fill the air, a cacophony of defiance and anger.
—Aisles—
As Clementine's group is escorted through Carver's camp by Bonnie, Tavia, James, and Troy. "We've got some familiar faces back with us tonight," Carver's voice booms over a PA system in his office, his tone smooth yet commanding. "Now, I understand some of you are confused as to why we'd bring these people back when they left us as they did."
Clementine can feel the tension in the air, an electric hum of resentment mixed with fear. "It might not come all at once, but time will heal these wounds. So be patient with them until it does... and take solace in knowing that they're here to help us make our home a better place. All these feelings you have of anger, betrayal, hate. They're all valid. No one needs to forget what they did... but we do have to find it in our hearts to forgive them," Carver continues, his rhetoric almost soothing, yet hollow.
"Look how much food they have..." Clementine murmurs, her eyes scanning the shelves stacked high with provisions. The sight is both a relief and a reminder of their precarious situation.
James smirks, hearing her words, his confidence brimming.
"I hope you ain't saying what I think you're saying," Kenny interjects, a hint of suspicion in his tone.
As Carver drones on about the threats they face, Clementine's heart sinks further. "As many of you already know, a large herd of lurkers gathers just south of us. We've kept an eye on the movements, and, well, with any luck, it's just passing through. But rest assured that if it does turn our way, it's nothing we can't handle."
"Come on, we need you for something," Troy says, pulling Carlos away from the group, urgency in his tone.
Carlos hesitates. "Can it wait until morning? We're all exhausted."
"Just come the fuck on," Troy snaps, impatience flaring.
"I need him. I need my dad. I can't. He's... he looks after me," Sarah pleads, desperation lacing her voice as Vera leads Carlos away.
"Some of you have voiced your concerns about the need for expansion with the looming threat. And they have been taken into consideration. However, this is not up for debate. The expansion project will move forward," Carver states, his authority clear.
James pushes Sarah forward, his irritation palpable. "Come on, Sarah, grow up already. You're gonna get yourself in hot water." Sarah falls silent, the gun pressed against her back making her compliance instinctual.
"And with the added manpower joining us this evening, I have no doubt that we will continue to grow and prosper. Provide a light... a bright light. Bright enough to shine in all this darkness. So that is what we'll do," Carver's voice rises, filled with a fervor.
"Make sure y'all stay off the fence. Bill can see if you're messin' with it," Bonnie calls out as she unlocks a door and opens it.
"It's no longer enough just to survive; it's our obligation to make this community a beacon of hope," Carver concludes.
"Thanks, Bonnie," Nick says, his voice tinged with a mixture of sarcasm and defeat.
"Yep," Bonnie nods.
—Unnamed Place—
James and Zach had left Howes a few hours ago for a supply run. James was riding a matte black Harley-Davidson. They were trying to stay low and keep quiet. James stopped Zach by gently raising his hand and nodded toward a clinic in the distance.
"We already looted that place, kid," Zach said, raising an eyebrow with a hint of disbelief.
"Listen up, we're only grabbing the essentials. Bill thinks we need to pick up some things for the ladies—especially Rebecca. So let's make it quick," James replied, and Zach nodded in agreement.
They both took a deep breath and dashed across the empty street, which was silent except for the sound of abandoned cars rusting in the sun. They reached the entrance of the clinic, with James positioning himself to the left of the door, his SMG tightly gripped in his hands. Zach took his place on the right side, holding his Glock at the ready.
Zach scratched his beard thoughtfully and nodded at James. James nodded back, signaling that he was ready. With a quick motion, Zach pulled away from the wall and opened the door just a crack.
The two men entered the clinic with their weapons raised, moving smoothly and silently as if they had done this dozens of times before. In fact, they had. After scanning the room to ensure it was empty, they began packing supplies for the ladies into their bags—bandages, painkillers, and other essentials.
Once they finished gathering what they needed, they prepared to leave. Just as they stepped back outside, a sharp gunshot rang through the air. Zach fell to the ground, a bullet striking him in the head. James flinched at the sound, his heart racing. He quickly turned to see where the shot had come from—it was from a rooftop nearby.
Instinct kicked in as he raised his SMG, firing three bullets in quick succession. One of the shots hit the shooter in the chest, causing him to tumble off the roof. But the danger was far from over; four more men emerged from their hiding spots, guns raised and ready.
Before James could figure out their intentions, he turned and sprinted back inside the clinic. As he ran, a bullet whizzed past his head, shattering the glass of a nearby cabinet. He dashed out the back door, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he heard the men chasing after him.
Looking around frantically, he spotted a ladder leaning against the building. Without hesitation, he slung his SMG over his shoulder and started climbing. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed behind him, urging him to move faster.
Once on the roof, he didn't stop. He sprinted across the rooftop, the rough surface scraping at his boots. When he reached the edge, he leaped off, landing painfully on the concrete below. The impact jarred his body, sending waves of pain through his legs.
Trembling from the agony, he quickly ripped the bag filled with supplies off of Zach's lifeless body. He couldn't leave it behind. With the bag slung over one shoulder, he ran to his bike, heart pounding in his chest.
He hopped onto the Harley, igniting the engine with a roar. Just as he was about to ride off, a bullet struck his ear, tearing off a piece of it. He groaned loudly in pain, but the fear of being caught pushed him forward. He twisted the throttle and sped away, the wind rushing past him as he took the long ride back to Howes, determination fueling his every move despite the pain.
—Yard—
Some time had passed since the supply run, and the mood in Howes was tense. Carver was not pleased that Zach had died, but he didn't blame James for it. Instead, he simply patted James on the head, gruffly saying he was glad at least one of them had made it back alive.
Now, the guards, including Carver and James, stood in the yard, their expressions serious. They had just caught Luke, and Carver had taken it upon himself to deliver a harsh lesson. He had beaten Luke badly, likely breaking a few of his ribs in the process. Carlos was tending to the injured Luke, carefully checking his wounds while Carver paced nearby, his anger palpable.
"And how is it that we're repaid for our trust?" Carver shouted, brandishing a walkie-talkie in his hand. His voice was filled with fury. "With treachery? With deceit? With theft?" He glared at Luke, who lay on the ground, gasping for breath. "Whatever you were planning is over. It's done. You can't just run from your problems. You can't just up and leave when it gets tough, 'cause there's nowhere else you can go where it ain't. Tough is all we got now. Get that through your fuckin' skulls. Luke here, he can't help you now. You gotta help yourselves. You gotta help me find the strength to forgive you. Now, you can start... by telling me where the other one is. I'm gonna count to three. If that radio ain't in my hand by then, we'll have to make things more difficult. One. Two—"
Suddenly, Kenny stepped forward, holding the missing walkie-talkie high above his head. "It's right here, I got it!" he shouted, his voice steady despite the chaos. Carver held out his hand, eyes narrowing in anticipation. As Kenny stepped forward, Sarita approached him cautiously. "It is alright," she reassured him, a hint of concern in her voice.
Kenny walked up to Carver, his expression surprisingly calm. "Sorry about that. Not sure what I was thinking." He dropped the radio into Carver's waiting palm.
"Three," Carver said, just before the radio landed in his hand.
"Heh..." Kenny shook his head, a small smile breaking through the tension. "Fucker."
Without warning, Carver swung the radio, hitting Kenny hard on the left side of his face, knocking him to the ground. Carver didn't stop there; he continued to strike Kenny in the face with the radio, each blow fueled by rage. Sarita lunged forward, desperate to intervene, but Carlos held her back, his grip firm.
Clementine rushed forward, her heart pounding as she tried to help. But before she could reach Kenny, James intercepted her. He hit her in the midsection with the butt of his SMG. The impact was jarring; it felt like a heavy weight had slammed into her stomach. Pain radiated outwards, and she gasped, doubling over as she fell to the ground.
Clementine cradled her midsection, wincing as she looked up to see Kenny being beaten mercilessly. Her heart sank at the sight of her friend in pain, and anger bubbled within her as she felt helpless. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but all she could do was watch through a haze of tears and frustration.
"You just ain't got the sense to learn, do ya, girl?" James whispered in her ear, his tone dripping with sarcasm and menace.
Just then, Bonnie entered the yard, her face pale with urgency. "Bill! That's enough, Bill! Please! Bill, there's a breach!" she shouted, her voice breaking through the chaos.
Carver punched Kenny one last time, relishing the power he held, before finally letting him go. He dropped the radio at Kenny's side, breathing heavily, his rage slowly dissipating. "Alright, everyone come with me. Bonnie, you stick around. Make sure these folks don't get into any more trouble."
"Yeah, okay," Bonnie nodded, her eyes darting nervously between Carver and the others.
"No supper for y'all tonight. Maybe an empty stomach will give you some perspective, then we'll try this again tomorrow," Carver declared, his voice cold and unforgiving. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving them all in a heavy silence. Sarita knelt beside Kenny, cradling his head in her lap, while Rebecca hugged Sarah tightly, both of them shaken by the violence they had just witnessed. Every guard, except for Bonnie, followed Carver out of the yard, including James, who cast one last glance at Clementine before disappearing.