The Walking Dead Game Fanfiction @twdgfanfiction - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook (2024)

Hello! I was just wondering if you could write a fanfiction about clementine kenny and AJ if they hadn’t been in that car crash, and how their journey would continue! I just love those 3 together so much, and I can’t find any fanfiction a about it ❤️🤙🏻

I’m really sorry, but this blog is now inactive due to the people behind it moving to other fandoms. I’m sure there are other fanfic writers in the fandom who would love this idea and do it instead?

Thanks for inboxing us anyway, and sorry that we can’t do your request❤️❤️

The fanfic is amazing! Thank you so much for writing it for me! You are such a talented writer! 💙

Aw, no problem! If anyone else has requests just send us an ask and we’ll get to it as soon as possible

Hi! Me again. So for that request, um sorry if mu English isn't the best I'm from South Korea ans just learned english. 💙 I was wondering if maybe you could write an femaleXReader who meets James (from season 4 of the game) and she is badly hurt so James takes care of her. But then, maybe a time skip to a year later and they are married and have a daughter named Nessarose or Juliette? Thanks! Sorry if its too much! 💙💙💙💙

Don’t worry about your English, I got the jist of what you wanted! Funnily enough, I’ve never written a Reader fanfic before, but hopefully I’ve done well with this!

A Whisper On Your Lips (Female!Reader x James)

It was too close. You thought it would’ve been an easy score, the agony of hunger driving you to try and catch food from the river you discovered. With night time coming soon, you didn’t want to go through another night hungry and alone, but after catching only one pitiful fish, you were ambushed by other survivors who too were simply looking for something to eat. The fight made noise, and the noise brought the walkers.

Leaving your catch behind, you sprinted off, dodging the decayed hands that were swinging at you and barely getting away from the bullets that skid across the ground, leaving small grooves in the baked dirt. Sadly, your luck wouldn’t hold out forever, and that rang true when a stray bullet shot through your upper arm, tearing through the flesh and skin before burying itself into the bark of a poor tree. The agony was like wildfire. Burning, white hot pain that caused you to cry out in pain, but you couldn’t stop running. It was not safe yet to stop.

Vision blurring slightly from the pain, your feet tripped over each other, causing you to stumble to the ground. With hands digging into the ground to stop the rest of your body from colliding with the ground, you glanced around, panting heavily as your lungs burned terribly from all the exertion. There was hardly a moment for you to catch your breath before the sound of walkers groaning reached your ears, echoing all throughout the forests while you tried to pin down the source. Slowly, fingers touched the wound before retracting instantly, a low hiss of pain coming from your lips as you stared down at them, eyes widening at the sight of blood. Your blood.

“F-f*ck.” You swore quietly to yourself, getting back to your feet. The bleeding wouldn’t stop, even with your hand pressed against the injury in a desperate attempt to stem it. Swaying from side to side, you kept walking, feeling the heavy weight of your backpack growing more and more with each step you took.

Finally, the walkers that had been stalking you came into view, the dim light from the dying sun barely enough for you to see them. Their groans grew louder with want, turning into snarls and growls as they spotted a chance for fresh food, and with only a pitiful knife on your person, you had no hope of fighting them off along with your injury. Still, you prepared yourself, pulling out your weapon when a walker stumbled towards you quickly. However, when you raised your knife and tried to attack it, the walker grabbed hold of your wrist, and only then did you hear the harsh whisper. “Don’t.”

Stunned, you offered no resistance or sound while he gently released his grip on you. Backing off slightly, you noticed the other walkers advancing, that fear gripping at your chest when you saw the talking walker stumble past them, finding no bother from the undead. You didn’t know what he was planning, but there was no time to wait and see, having to stab a walker in the head when it came to close and kicking it away. From behind the walkers, you could make out your saviour holding a large rock, weighing it in his hand before tossing it into the forest, making some deal of noise that caught the walkers’ attention.

Backing away quickly, you took shelter behind some trees and just watched the undead moving on, drawn to the sound of the rock and the gunfire in the distance. Only when the coast was clear did you finally come out of hiding and approach the strange survivor. He said nothing, rather staring down at the walker you were forced to kill, before his raspy voice piped up. “You didn’t have to kill them.”

“It was either them or me. They attacked first.”

“They didn’t know better.” A pange of guilt hit your gut when you saw how saddened he was with the death of the walker. Clutching your arm, you glanced away, listening as he pointed out softly. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah… Some assholes got me good.” You explained, feeling a new jolt of pain running up your arm every time you pressed against the injury.

“Follow me. I can patch you up.” He offered, starting to walk into the thick vegetation of the forest. You didn’t know whether you should follow him. He was a strange boy who lived in the woods, wearing strange skin, but he also was the person who saved your life, and so with a deep sigh you decided to try your luck.

The walk back was quiet, serene almost. Your saviour wasn’t much of a conversationalist, rather walking slightly ahead of you as he led you back to his camp. With the sound of the wind blowing softly and crickets chirping in your ears, there was a moment for you to relax slightly, finally out of danger with someone beside you. After a long time of being on the road alone, the presence of another human being felt greater than you could’ve imagined. Finally, he pushed a stray branch from in front of him, holding it in place to allow you to get passed.

There wasn’t much there; a put out campfire between overturned trees and a makeshift shelter from bent branches and scraps scavenged. Still, it was more than you were used to, and weak from pain and exhaustion, you took what you could get. Dragging your feet over to the overturned tree, you sat down slowly, hissing softly to yourself while trying to get the backpack off your shoulders. After some fiddling around, you managed to succeed in removing the dead weight from your back, instead tossing it to your side and finally sitting down. The other survivor approached the campfire, kneeling down while you got straight down to business.

“Goddammit.” You swore to yourself, trying to get your jacket off to get better access to the wound site. The fabric of the clothing brushed up against the torn flesh, reigniting the agonising waves of pain that went up and down your arm. Gritting your teeth together to try and combat the pain, you managed to slip your arm out of your jacket, staring down at the mangled injury with a disgusted expression on your face.

Sure enough, a woosh of heat hit you from the campfire. Glancing up from your current task, you noticed that your companion had gotten the fire going, feeding a few branches and other bits and pieces to keep the flames going. With that done, those piercing dark eyes looked up, meeting with your own, though only for a second before he then approached you again. Nothing was spoken, rather you sitting there while he kneeled down, holding your arm up and examining it as he tried to be as careful as possible. “You’ll need stitches. The wound is too deep.”

“If you have a needle and some thread that’d be real handy.” You shot back, raising an eyebrow when he made no movement to get anything. After a few moments of tense silence, you finally broke it by reaching for your bag, flipping it open as you searched through its contents.

Years on the road had a toll on your possessions. An empty water canteen, an old toy that you picked up, and some bits and pieces of medical supplies that you knew you would need. While there wasn’t a needle or thread, you did have a small roll of bandages left, passing it to the other survivor while tossing the bag back to your side. Taking the bandages, his touch was gentle, unwilling to cause you any unnecessary pain, as he started to wrap the injury up. Once again, the silence came back, resting over the two of you like a heavy blanket, until you decided to shatter it with some questions. “So… you got a name?”

“Been a while.”

“Since?”

He paused in wrapping up your wound, still staring at it as he confessed. “Since I said it.”

“Well, there’s always a first for something. I’ll tell you mine.” You offered, watching him work with a faint smile. “[Name].”

“[Name]… It’s nice.” A faint blush warmed your cheeks at the compliment to your name. Glancing away, you waited for him to finish patching up your arm, noticing him tying the spare ends of the bandages to stop them from slipping off. With that done, he released your arm, watching you flex it before staring at the fire that continued burning. The injury still burned, and it would likely take longer to heal without stitches, but it was the best you would get out of the situation, so you didn’t complain. Instead, you watched the fire as well, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading through your frozen body.

“James.” The name was uttered softly, almost too quiet for you to catch at first.

“Huh?”

“James.” He repeated, still not meeting your gaze. “That’s my name.”

“Well… thanks for saving me out there, James. Really appreciate it.” You replied gratefully, flashing him a smile that he returned quietly. He appeared thoughtful however, eyes staring straight ahead while you both sat there silently. It was getting awkward again.

Eventually, his hands moved up to the thing he was wearing on his face, pulling the skin off like it was some cheap Halloween mask, but the person who was underneath surprised you greatly. Rather than some weirdo you expected who lived in the forest and weared the skins of walkers, he was simply a teenage boy, near enough the age that you were. Speechless, you scolded yourself mentally for fixating on his face, glancing away with the blush on your cheeks darkening, but he didn’t notice thankfully. Rather, he muttered to you. “I saw that you didn’t have a group out there with you?”

“Yeah… It didn’t work out with them. I’d rather not talk about it.” You sighed, pulling your legs up to your chest in hopes of conserving at least some body warmth. “What about you? You ever had a group?”

He appeared thoughtful at your question. After a few moments of silence, he finally opened up somewhat. “I was part of a group a little while ago. Called themselves the Whisperers. We learned how to live among the herds, behave like them, sometimes even guide them, but then they attacked another community… I saw the carnage.”

His voice dropped even more at that. Sympathetic, you waited patiently for him to continue, saying nothing as he carried on the tale. “I left after that, survived on my own. Saw war everywhere. I didn’t want to be a part of that.”

“I get that, honestly.” You agreed, staring at the fire with narrowed eyes. “I saw a lot of sh*t too. People fighting, killing each other… It was horrible.”

“Is that why you’re alone?”

“Part of the reason.” Sighing deeply, you couldn’t help but hover your hand over your injury solemnly.

James didn’t question you anymore. Seeing the downtrodden look in your eyes, he instead kept to himself, sitting next to you to keep you company through the cold and dark night. Soon enough, the adrenaline had faded away, and the gut wrenching sensation of hunger pulled at you again, the growls growing loud enough that you were certain that your friend could hear them. Pressing your hands into your stomach in a desperate attempt to stop the sounds, you didn’t notice him holding something out until he called out to you. “Here.”

Looking in his direction, you noticed that he was holding out an apple. “Eat. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”

You wanted to reject it, already feeling bad for encroaching on his camp and staying the night, but hunger pushed you to take it, and so you did with a grateful smile. The apple was crisp, a loud crunch echoing in the air when you bit into it. Fresh, you savoured the flavour, enjoying the small morsel like you hadn’t eaten in days, which you likely haven’t either. While you finished the snack, James added as he watched the surroundings. “You should get some sleep.”

“What about you?” You questioned, tossing the core away when you were done with it.

“I don’t need sleep. Not tonight.” He replied, turning to you with a small smile pulling at his lips. “Go on, you look exhausted.”

“I can stay up for a while longer. Less lonely that way.” You joked with an amused smirk. James didn’t say anything to that, but rather seemed thankful for the company and nodded faintly. With your wound treated and your stomach full for the moment, you took the chance to relax, leaning further against the tree behind you just as James got back up to his feet, returning to the fire to tend the flames and stopping them from going out.

For the rest of the night, both you and James kept quiet, enjoying the peace and quiet with the boy’s presence providing some security for you. Even though you offered to stay awake to keep him company, the exhaustion was too much and eventually, you fell asleep in your spot, warm by the fire that James kept feeding throughout the night. Your dreams were uninterrupted, knowing that you had someone to watch your back while you got some rest, and when you finally opened your eyes again, you were greeted with a smoldering campfire and no one around.

The light of morning hurt your sensitive eyes as you blinked repeatedly. Rubbing them with the back of your hand, you sat up properly with your spine popping in several places, stiff from having to sleep on the ground again. Still, you were more focused on the disappearance of James, getting up to your feet while you eyed the forests around you nervously, digging into your pocket for your knife as you called out. “James?”

No reply. Nervously, you grabbed your jacket, tying the arms around your waist rather than attempt to get it back on with your busted arm, before quickly grabbing your backpack in case you had to make a run for it. Suddenly, bushed behind you rustled loudly, causing you to jump back with your weapon drawn. Heart hammering away in your chest, you tried to sound threatening when you threatened whoever was out there. “Come on out. I’m armed.”

Thankfully, the person who came out of the cover was none other than James, his mask back on his face while he was gone from the camp. Relieved, you lowered your knife, releasing the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Paused in his steps, he stared at you with an unreadable expression. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t scare me that bad. Just thought you were someone else, that’s all.” You brushed off, even though you could still feel your heart beating insanely fast in your chest.

Lowering the knife, you pocketed it again as James came back into camp, holding a makeshift bag full of something. Curious, you followed after him as he approached the fire again, messing around with the ash inside the pit and feeding in more fuel to get the fire going again. Saying nothing, you watched intently, finding that he had caught some fish, likely from the river, when he opened the bag up. The hunger that plagued you returned with a vengeance, mouth watering at the thought of digging into the food in front of you.

However, James had other thoughts on his mind when he finally got the fire going, starting to cook the food as he suddenly asked you. “What are you thinking of doing?”

“Hmm?”

“People usually move on after getting all they needed. I just assumed you would want to get back on the road soon.” The assumption was a fair one to make. Still, your arm hurt you greatly, the last time you tried to gather food just to feed yourself ended up nearly getting you killed, and if James had not helped you, walkers would’ve likely overwhelmed you back in the forest.

“Actually…” You trailed off, rubbing the back of your neck when James looked up at you finally. “I was hoping to stick around… with you. You could’ve left me to die back there, you didn’t have to bring me to your camp and give me your food, but you did. If you want… I’d rather try to survive with someone again.”

The blush on your face darkened when he appeared stunned at your request. Glancing away, you eagerly awaited for his response, hoping deep down that he too would want you around for a while. The silence got awkward quickly, neither of you uttering a word after the confession, and there was even a moment where you feared that he would reject your proposal and remain alone. Soon enough, that familiar soft voice replied. “I… would like that. If that’s what you want?”

Looking back at him, you noticed that he was watching the small fire that was building up in the campfire again. While most of his face was hidden behind the walker skin mask, you could make out some redness in the skin that was visible, wondering what he was thinking about there and then. Relief washed over you when you finally kneeled beside him, eagerly waiting for the fish to cook while smiling warmly. “Less lonely this way.”

“Yes. I would think so.”

Even though you only assumed that he would make it a few months at best, just like everyone else that tried to survive with you, James had stayed by your side for years after that first encounter. The camp where you stayed at was left abandoned a long time ago, the two of you moving around the state, using the tricks that James learned while with the Whisperers to move amongst the herds. As you left the awkward teenage years into a grown woman, you recalled the years on your own with him, even opening up about your past before the dead started walking.

After learning that James helped his father with a food truck in Washington, you confessed that your parents were the average parents. Loving, wise, even happily married, and with your relationship with him flourishing past good friends, he even brought up the subject of marriage at one point. With humanity having fallen with the dead, there was nothing more to marriage than just a vow and a ring, but that didn’t stop either of you from scavenging what you could find and deciding to have a go at it. The ceremony was corny. Still, you enjoyed the thought of having one soulmate who would always stay by your side, finding comfort in no longer being alone.

Watching a herd of walkers shuffling down in the valley below, you were unmoving, keeping yourself from being detected by the living corpses. A small bundle on your back squirmed, an infant’s cries reaching your ears as you turned your head. On queue, big round eyes stared at you, tearing up until you quietly comforted the infant. “Nessarose, we have to be quiet now. We’ll find you some food when the herds move on.”

“It shouldn’t be long now.” A new voice called out. Turning to face the source, you smiled warmly when you found James returning from his scouting trip. Even after years of being away from his old group, his voice still rarely raised above a soft whisper, but it was that calm sound that lulled Nessarose back to sleep.

Affectionately, he kissed the infant’s forehead, leaving her to sleep in the makeshift baby harness strapped to your back. Returning the smile when he finally laid eyes on you, James moved closer to your side, watching the walkers shambling around down below. Even though you were safe from them, the sight of them still set you on edge, your feeling worn like a heart on your sleeve. Likely having noticed your reactions, you felt James slip his hand into yours, holding on tightly as neither of you said a word. In all the years you knew each other, words were hardly needed, rather you both could tell from looks and small smiles how the other was feeling, and that was all you needed.

Survival wasn’t so hard anymore.

do you take requests?

You know what? We’ve never actually had the thought of doing requests, but sure! Just message us with what you want!

Chapter 10: In The Woods

Quiet. That was what Charlotte would describe life in the cabin like. Sitting on the stairs leading up to the front porch, she enjoyed the sun shining down on her, the warm rays a welcome change to the usual frost bitten weather, the harsh winds blowing in her face being replaced with gentle breezes that caused the tree branches to sway slightly, and even birds have returned to their homes amongst the trees. Birdsong echoing in the distance, she heard footsteps running towards her and turned her head slowly, watching as Sam came bounding towards her with a stick in his mouth. When he reached a few feet, he slowed down to a gentle trot before stopping altogether. The stick was dropped to the ground and covered in spit.

"Do you ever get bored with this?" She asked, grabbing the stick while Sam barked, jumping about waiting for the stick with excitement clear on his face. Smiling softly, she threw the stick as hard as she could, watching as it flew through the air and landed near the meat hook that Dylan set up for skinning animals. Sam wasted no time in chasing after it, barking all the way as she shook her head. "Yeah, I guess not."

With him having gone off after the stick, she took the moment to examine her injured hand, eyes looking over the wrapped bandages that hid her stitches. It had been a few days since the accident, and she kept true to her word. The children were not allowed near Sam, especially while he was eating, and she took care not using her hands to pick up his food bowl again. Honestly, she didn't know exactly how to help him, but she just kept nearby whenever he was eating. If anything, he seemed to have calmed, if only slightly, and she wondered if it was because he was being fed regularly. Letting her bandaged hand rest on her knee, she wince when trying to move her thumb, finding that any command her brain gave her thumb would just ignore.

She hoped it wasn't lasting nerve damage. Her thoughts were disturbed when Sam came barreling back, returning the stick back to the grown woman so that she could throw it again. Her face contorted in disgust at the feeling of dog saliva on her hand. Weighing it in her good hand, she looked up at the line of trees that surrounded the forest, before dropping her gaze to Sam, who was waiting patiently as she enthusiastically spoke to him. "You want the stick? Get the stick!"

With that, she stood up and threw the stick as hard as she could, watching as it soared through the air and Sam chased after it. A laugh came from her throat, almost quiet, before she let herself laugh out loud at the sight of the animal wanting something as simple as a stick so badly. As she continued to keep an eye out for Sam, and any danger that could spring out of the forests, she heard the door open behind her and tiny footsteps approaching the stairs she was just sitting on. Turning her head, she noticed Clementine standing by the railing, leaning against it with her head resting on her arms. She was too small to fully see over it, but she managed when on her tiptoes. Keeping an eye on Sam, Charlotte spoke up. "Clem, you know you're not allowed near Sam. Come on, what'll Christa and Omid think if you get bit?"

"I'm not near him. Christa and Omid have gone out to the fish traps and to get some water, anyway." The little girl revealed, moving to the top of the stairs as she asked shyly. "Can I throw the stick? Just once?"

"Clem…" Charlotte trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck while she watched Sam running back with the stick. When he reached her and dropped it again, she thought about the request for a moment, and scooping the gross stick from the ground, she turned around and held it out for Clementine to take. "Just once, and you have to promise you'll go back inside afterwards."

She nodded with a bright smile on her face, quickly running down the stairs and in the process nearly tripping over her own feet. When she reached Charlotte's side, the latter passed her the stick and smirked when she saw the same disgusted look on her face, Clementine handling the stick with a couple of fingers, uneager to actually touch the saliva. Kneeling down so she was eye level with the girl, Charlotte pointed over to the tree line and muttered. "That's the boundary. Let's see if you can throw as good as me."

"Okay." She replied quietly, moving away from Charlotte so that she had room to throw the stick. Sam saw her holding the stick and followed after her, excited to the point where he couldn't stay still, his feet jumping around while he let out a few soundless barks. Holding the stick behind her, Clementine grunted as she threw it with all her strength. The stick didn't go anywhere near where Charlotte was able to throw it, but it was a good try, the grown woman nodding her head as she stood up again.

It took a few seconds of running for Sam to grab the stick, barely having enough space to fully run, and when he brought it back, he dropped it on the ground and waited again. Affectionately rubbing the top of Clementine's hat, Charlotte picked up the stick and moved back to her spot by the stairs, being followed by both animal and fellow survivor. With a loud grunt, she threw the stick once more, and left Sam alone to play with it while she turned her attention back to Clementine. "Come on, darling. We had a deal."

Her small hand gripped her lower arm, Clementine looking up at the front door with an unreadable expression. Confused, Charlotte followed her gaze, but didn't see anyone there, and so turned back just as the child confessed. "Dylan's sad. I heard you two arguing on Christmas… it was scary. Why is he so angry?"

"It's just everything lately. He said some things that weren't very nice, and so did I. Right now, we're just keeping our distances until he calms down." She explained calmly, trying to make sure Clementine understood and wasn't afraid just because she and Dylan had a shouting match days ago. She seemed to understand, nodding her response before she fell silent. Frowning sadly, she turned to watch Sam running around with the stick in his mouth, no longer wanting to bring it back for her to throw again.

While she was looking away, Clementine piped up again. "He loves you, I think. It's like what I saw with Lee and Kenny. They argued a lot, but Lee still said Kenny was his friend. Maybe that's what it's like with Dylan?"

Crossing her arms, she took care not to rub painfully against her sore hand, and hummed under her breath. Her eyes fell to the ground. Quietly, she responded to the attempts to cheer her up from the little girl. "Yeah… Maybe you're right."

"I used to fight with my mom a lot. She always forgave me, even if I was really mean." Clementine added, turning her head to watch Sam as well. "Maybe you can talk to him?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I don't know if we can ever have a civil conversation without him going off the rails. I just wish I could do something for that boy…" Charlotte sighed, letting her arms fall to her side as she turned her upper body to Clementine, gesturing to the door with a flick of her head. "Go on inside now."

With a disappointed frown, Clementine trudged away from the adult as slow as she could, trying to get as much time as she could outside before being forced back inside. Eyes trained on her back, Charlotte thought about what she told her just then, about trying to connect with Dylan again, until she called out to the child. "Clem?"

She paused halfway up the stairs, staring over at Charlotte while the latter asked softly. "Go and grab Dylan, please? Tell him it's important."

She nodded slowly with a faint smile, moving up the rest of the stairs before disappearing through the open door. Watching as she closed it behind her, Charlotte took the time to sit back down on the steps while waiting for Clementine to relay the message to her brother. Meanwhile, Sam continued to run around the open spaces with the stick in his mouth, tossing it around and chasing after it like a game of fetch by himself. The sight was amusing indeed. A chuckle escaped her lips, her chin resting on top of the palm of her good hand comfortably. Eventually, he left the stick behind and just starting sniffing around, entertaining himself while his owner took the moment of peace to just relax. Scavenging, hunting, guarding their home, she was grateful for the five minutes where all she could do was sit down and actually enjoy living.

With a slow turn of her head, she looked over at the shed down the path, her eyes skimming over the work that she and Mason did over the couple of days so that Sam had a place to sleep that didn't constantly leak and let the draft in. It wasn't as cosy as the cabin, but it was the best that the animal would get, and he honestly didn't seem to mind. Considering he was likely sleeping out in the open before finding the group, it was to be expected. From behind her, heavy footsteps thudded against the worn wooden floor as they approached her, the sound of the door opening and closing accompanying the noise, and when she glanced behind her, she saw none other than Dylan standing by the railing above her. Staring down at her with narrowed blue eyes, he only muttered softly. "Clem told me you wanted to talk?"

"Yeah." She replied, placing her injured hand on the free spot next to her. "Come on. We gotta talk."

He obeyed, pushing himself off the railing and walking briskly to the spot where her hand was, somewhat joking to her. "You sure that's a good idea after last time?"

"It's the only idea I got." She shot back with a half smile. When Dylan sat down next to her, he leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs, and couldn't bring himself to actually make eye contact with Charlotte. It was alright. Rather, she just stared ahead as well, watching the wide tree line that hid whatever was lurking further within the forests. Her words died in her throat, her tongue lying in her mouth uselessly, and she had to take a moment to actually figure out how she was gonna start the conversation. After a few moments of awkward silence, she finally managed to get the words out into the open. "I'm sorry."

Her apology caused Dylan's eyes to drop, staring at his hands laying on his knees as he appeared thoughtful. She didn't know if the words had sunk in yet, but was surprised when he sighed deeply. "Yeah… I'm sorry too."

He paused, before leaning back and brushing his hand through his thick black locks, having styled his hair back into a slicked style to differentiate him from his twin brother. Getting out some of the knots that formed from months of not brushing it, he carried on explaining. "I'm not gonna say I'm gonna change. I keep giving excuses, keep complaining about our situation as if it's gonna make things better. I don't know why… but I'm not strong enough. Not like you and Mason. He seems to just take things on the chin, like this world is f*cked but it ain't gonna change him. I wish I had that strength. I wish I could change like you did."

"You think I changed?" Charlotte asked, peering down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

Letting his hand return to its spot on his lap, he finally met her gaze and answered the surprise question. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you were a sh*tty sister sometimes. You were never there. Mason and I hardly saw you after you went to university."

Shame and guilt from the past were dredged up from her subconscious. Unable to keep her eyes on Dylan, she turned her head away and sadly stared at the group, eyes taking in every crack in the path and every plant that managed to worm its way through the stones and gravel. From beside her, Dylan added in a kinder tone. "I'm sorry it's not what you wanted to hear. Over the months since all this started, ever since we lost Mama, Dad, even Liz… You were there for me. You didn't run away and, honestly, I thought of you like a new mom almost. God knows I haven't made things easy. The world hasn't made things easy for you, but I think I prefer the new you. The one who doesn't run away when things get hard…"

"Well, you say that you can't change, but honestly, I don't think I coulda done half the things here without your help, bud." Charlotte confessed, overlooking the entire opening in front of them. "Even without your knowledge in hunting, you and your brother are the ones that keep me going. I don't think I would have bothered going on this long if it weren't for you being there, reminding me that there's still something in this world worth fighting for."

"I think you coulda done without some of the sh*t I gave you." He joked, earning a small laugh from his sister as he too chuckled. Slowly, he leaned against Charlotte's shoulder and mumbled. "I don't know if I can change, but I'll try. I'm sorry for giving you sh*t over Sam… I was just so scared over what he did that I wasn't thinking straight. I don't wanna lose you."

That caused her chest to tighten painfully, her lungs feeling like there was no air left to breathe, and so she took in a few deep breaths while her hand affectionately ruffled his hair. When she managed to calm herself down, her next words were merely whispered. "I don't wanna lose you too. I'll keep you safe."

They sat there, no more words being uttered between them as they instead watched Sam finally notice the new arrival. Trotting over to them, he laid down by Charlotte's side and panted softly, exhausted from the exercise he was given all morning. Her bandaged hand hovered over the top of his head, slowly lowering until fabric touched fair, as to avoid rubbing uncomfortably against the stitches. He made no movement, rather allowing his new owner to stroke the top of his head gently. It was peaceful. Dylan leaning against her, she felt him shift and the weight of his head on her shoulder disappeared, her eyes quickly moving to see that the teenager had sat up completely, rather turning his attention to the comfortable dog resting below them. His hand hesitated, almost scared to actually touch Sam, especially when Dylan stared at the bandaged hand of his sister while she moved it away.

Sam noticed the lack of touch immediately, turning his head upwards awkwardly to look at her, almost confused as to why she had stopped lavishing him in attention. Only when Dylan managed to stroke the fur lining his neck did the dog turn his attention to him. Charlotte stiffened, worry subconsciously seeping in as she thought about what Sam would do when he realised that it was Dylan stroking him. Much to her relief, he made no attempt to growl or snap at her brother, rather opening his mouth again and panting while Dylan gained confidence in stroking him. With a soft chuckle, he piped up to the grown woman. "He seems to like me now, huh?"

"He's gotten better over these few days, but feeding him is still an issue. Hopefully I can train him to let us handle his bowl and food without snapping." She pointed out, leaving Dylan to stroke Sam while she glanced up at the skies. The clouds were gathering together, darkening in colour as they changed from a pale white to dark grey. With a deep frown, she returned her gaze to Sam and sighed. "There seems to be a storm brewing. We might have to keep him in the cabin tonight, it won't be safe in the shed with the weather."

"Christa won't like that." Dylan replied, looking up from the animal to his sister with a worried frown. "You made a deal that he doesn't go near Clementine."

"I'll keep him in my room for the night. He's comfortable with me, and then when the storm passes, he can go back out into the shed." Charlotte compromised, rubbing the top of Sam's head with a smile, watching as his ears flopped around with the moving of his stretchy skin. Dylan shrugged to that, finding nothing wrong with the plan, at least enough that he would bring any points up. So, he just kept quiet and continued to pay attention to his new friend, Charlotte watching the both of them with a smile returning to her face. Even if there was a storm that night, they would at least all be warm and dry, though she quietly hoped that Omid and Christa made it back before it started raining.

Eyeing the forests up unnervingly, she half expected to see walkers materialise out from the trees, or worse her old group. It still kept her awake some nights, the sight of their bodies on the road while she and her brothers drove by. Leaving them to rot and come back as the very things they spent months trying to survive against. Honestly, she understood Dylan's initial reaction to them, and with his words in the supermarket ringing in the back of her mind, she wondered if she herself could possibly forgive them for killing Samantha. They were friends, and she did the same atrocities that she did. Charlotte killed a man just before she escaped. Logan forced her, but she couldn't help the feeling that maybe if she resisted, tried to convince him to just let the man go, then there wouldn't have been bloodshed that day. At least, a little less bloodshed.

"You know what I miss?" she heard Dylan pipe up, looking over at him only to see that he was talking to Sam. With his hand still on the animal's head, he kept eye contact with him, voice calm and soft when he continued. "My dog. She was a beautiful sheep dog, and pretty good at following orders. You woulda learned a thing or two from her."

Sam seemed to be paying attention to the story, watching Dylan's small facial changes as his mood dropped. Taking a moment of silence as he thought back to that loyal dog, his frown deepened when he had the strength to finally carry on with the story. "Her name was Belle. We lost her in the first few days… She'd have liked this place, and I'm sure you will too."

Slowly, Sam got up to his feet, shuffling closer as he placed his head on Dylan's lap, letting out a low whine. It was almost like he understood what Dylan was trying to tell him. With a raised eyebrow in surprise, Charlotte gave him a small pat on the head and went to stand up, stretching out her limbs until she felt a pop in the joints. A sigh of relief grew in her throat while her arms fell to her sides. With Dylan and Sam occupied with each other, she took another peek at the skies, seeing more and more clouds gathering together as the threat of the storm seemed imminent. Worry started to gnaw at her from the inside, the thought of Christa and Omid being caught in the storm causing her stomach to twist around painfully. She had to keep hope that they wouldn't run into any problems while visiting the river. They should return home soon.

With a deep sigh, she turned to Dylan and instructed him. "Come on, we should bunker down for the incoming storm."

Shrugging his shoulders, Dylan pushed himself up from the steps and started ascending up the stairs being followed by Sam. Behind them, Charlotte followed after with a quick glance to the forest, somewhat hoping that her friends would appear right then and they'd all go inside to wait out the incoming soon. Suddenly, a high pitched scream echoed out of the forest, shocking both Charlotte and Dylan as they stopped in their tracks. Facing in the direction that she swore she heard the scream come from, she listened as Dylan asked in a frightened tone. "Did that sound like a woman to you?!"

Trying to keep hope, she shook her head and replied loudly. "I don't know!"

"f*ck, what if it was Christa?! They might be in trouble!" Dylan warned, running back down the stairs when Mason opened the door, looking out with Clementine by his side. Dylan turned to his brother, gesturing to Sam as he ordered strongly. "Mason, get Sam and Clementine inside. Don't come out until we get back."

His brother nodded, moving to grab Sam by the collar and guide him into the house. Clementine watched with widened eyes while Charlotte turned around, seeing Dylan having reached the bottom of the stairs and rush to her side, determined to figure out the source of the screams. "I'm coming with you."

She wanted to deny his help, but she did need someone out there to watch her back,and given that it was just him, Mason, and Clementine, she had to concede that he was the best suited to the job. Accepting his help with a short nod, she looked up at Mason and Clementine, seeing the older teenager comfort the terrified child before she called out to them. "We'll try to get back as quick as we can. Lock the door and don't answer it to anyone, do you two understand?!"

"Yeah, but will you guys be okay?" Mason asked, watching the forests with a wary stare. "There's likely walkers from all around honing straight in on those screams. It ain't gonna be safe."

"If there's even a chance that it's Christa and Omid out there, we have to make sure. We can't leave it to chance!" Dylan countered, turning his head to Charlotte with a serious stare. "Come on. We shouldn't waste any time."

"Right, stick close." She replied, running off from the cabin with Dylan beside her. Into the forest, trees passed by in a blur, the wind blowing loud in her ears as the duo followed after the screams that continued to echo through the forests. It didn't sound like Christa's voice, but she couldn't just go back and wait for luck to decide. She had to find the person and help. Even if it wasn't Christa, she didn't feel right just abandoning someone to a horrible death by walkers, or exposure with the storm brewing above them. A few raindrops fell down, hitting her on the face as the grown woman cursed. Slowing to a stock, both she and Dylan looked around, trying to see if they could spot the person in need.

All that she could see were trees. Looming over her, their bare branches unable to block out most of the rain that continued to pelt down. Her jacket protected her from the cold and the rain, but she started feeling it getting soaked as the rain just worsened. The thundering downpour made it harder to see and hear, yet after just a few moments of stopping, another scream of pain echoed not far from where they were standing. Sharing a look with Dylan, they ran after the source of the sound. Puddles formed in the soft mud, caking their boots and splashing about as they stepped in them, some of the water getting into Charlotte's shoes and freezing her feet. Thunder could be heard in the background, the clouds covering more and more of the once blue skies and that warm she took advantage of had all but disappeared.

"Over there!" Dylan yelled, pulling on Charlotte's jacket to grab her attention as he pointed. Following his gesture, she saw a woman stumbling through the trees in front of them, pursued by walkers on all sides. She wasn't Christa, but that relief was pushed away when Charlotte saw a deep bleeding wound in her side, the blood dripping down onto the flooded ground only to be washed away from the rain. Soaking wet and frightened, the woman didn't see the two as she kept walking, trying her best to get away from the walkers. Pulling out his knife, the teenage boy shouted to his sister. "We have to help her!"

She couldn't get a word in before Dylan ran off, leaving the grown woman behind to curse loudly before managing to pull her machete free. Using her undamaged hand was awkward, and the bandages she had wrapped around her other hand were getting soaked from being in the rain, causing concern with having to change them when she got back. For now, however, she followed after Dylan with her weapon at the ready. He wasted no time in coming to the rescue, kicking a walker that was distracted with the woman in the shin and backing off as it fell to the ground, hands digging in the mud and fallen leaves before he stabbed it in the back of its skull. Approaching one of the other walkers, Charlotte stared at it with narrowed eyes, finding it hard to watch her surroundings through the torrent rains. Lifting the machete over her head, she threw it down as the walker lunged, slicing it through the top of its head and into its brain.

The momentum caused the walker to fall forward as it died, Charlotte jumping to the side and almost slipping in the mud as she did so. Blood poured out of the open gash, staining the puddle water a deep red that even the rains couldn't wash away. With her machete free, she turned to the woman, finding that she was almost caught by one of the walkers that swiped for her. Rushing to her aid, she delivered a kick to the walker's stomach, the force thrown behind it causing the walker to fling backwards onto its back. Stunned and helpless, it couldn't react past a growl before Charlotte was on top of it, stabbing it through the front of its face with her machete. Grunting as she pulled it free, she turned to see that the injured survivor was unable to keep moving, leaning against a tree. She ran over to the unknown woman's side, hearing Dylan dispatch of the last walker behind them. Pale in the face, she could only focus on the large blood spot on the woman's jacket, her hands shaking as she tried to keep her weight up on the tree.

"She's hurt real bad, Dylan." She called behind her, spotting Dylan making his way over before the extent of the woman's injuries gave him pause. He watched with widened eyes as Charlotte thought over what to do, knowing that they barely had enough supplies to treat the injury, and that was given if the woman would survive the journey back to the cabin.

Quietly, she heard him ask in a scared tone. "What are we gonna do?"

Without another thought, she sheathed her machete and grabbed the woman, holding her up bridal style, finding it easier to carry her due to the unknown survivor's light weight and short body, especially compared to Charlotte herself. With a gentle tone, she comforted the woman when she noticed the terrified expression on her face. "Don't worry. We're gonna get you the help you need."

She started walking back the way they came, but Dylan remained where he stood, staring at something behind them before pulling out the pistol that he kept in his pocket. Holding it in his hands, he turned to look up at Charlotte and pointed out with a grim expression. "It looks like we have company."

Confused, she turned around and saw two people running towards them, moving far too fast to be walkers. Her confusion faded away to terror when she saw the guns they were carrying, unsure if they were friends of the woman she was carrying, and likely to think that they were the ones who attacked her. As they approached, she heard the woman mutter softly in her arms. "No…. run…."

It was too late. The two survivors, a tall dark-skinned man and his female friend, stopped right in front of her and Dylan, holding their rifles threateningly. Dylan raised his, shifting his eyes from one target to the other, while Charlotte could only stand there holding the woman. Her face grew paler with every moment they wasted, and she had a strong feeling in her gut that the people in front of her were not friendly. Finally, the man snapped at her. "You're holding someone we've been looking for. It'd be awful nice of you if you could return her."

"You two from her group?" Charlotte asked, eyeing up both of them as they just glanced at each other. The female survivor scowled at her companion, who turned his attention back to Charlotte as the latter added. "She's hurt real bad. You guys have a doctor?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" The other woman growled, her grip on her gun tightening while Charlotte glared at her. Dylan watched with wariness, clearly distrustful of the newcomers while he watched the conversation go down. A weak groan came from the injured survivor, sparking the blonde haired woman to continue. "We've been tracking this woman down for days. Her and her entire group, they ran away from our camp. Ungrateful thieves is what they are."

"What my partner is saying is that we come from a community to the west, on the border between North Carolina and Tennessee. We opened our gates to that woman and her group, and now they stole supplies from us and ran. Our leader, he ain't pleased with being betrayed." The man explained, lowering his gun slightly as he offered to Charlotte and Dylan. "You two seem capable folks. You guys hand us over the woman, and we can all leave this situation alive. No one else needs to get hurt."

"It was you guys who shot her, wasn't it?" Dylan accused, refusing to lower his gun. "I don't trust a f*cking word you're saying."

"Let the adults talk about this, kid." The man shot back, angering Dylan as the latter shot him a dirty look. Ignoring it, he kept his eyes on Charlotte as she just watched him, unsure how else to get out of the situation. He didn't deny shooting the woman, and even if she was a thief like he said, she didn't feel right about giving her up to those people. There was something off about the two. When she gave no answer to his proposal, his face turned dark and he raised his gun again, threatening Charlotte with its presence despite not even pointing the barrel at her. Hs voice was a guttural growl, deep and frightful as he ordered her. "Don't be stupid. Hand her over."

"I'm sorry, but that ain't happening." She rejected, maintaining her glare at him. His friend cursed under her breath and moved to raise her gun to just shoot Charlotte and be done with it, though she could barely lift it a few centimeters before Dylan fired a shot at her. The bullet pierced through her neck, causing blood to spurt out of the open wound. Hands flew up in an attempt to stop the blood loss, dropping the weapon, but it was futile as the woman staggered backwards and collapsed. Gurgles of pain could be heard as the man turned to her in shock, unable to react when Dylan coldly shot him as well, managing to get him in the head this time. A dull thud was the only noise he made, and soon even the gurgles from the woman died down to an eerie silence.

Standing there in shock, Charlotte watched as Dylan put his pistol away and picked up the dropped rifles, looking at the bodies while cursing. "sh*t…"

"I hate seeing you have to do this, but right now, I didn't see any other way." Charlotte confessed, glancing over at Dylan as he just stared at the bodies. With a neutral expression, he turned his head to look at his older sister, noticing the woman in her arms growing weaker. Charlotte noticed this too, worried for the other woman's life as she explained urgently. "We gotta get back to Mason. Come on!"

He was right behind her as they set off back the way they came. Through the harsh downpour of rain, Charlotte could barely see in front of her, feeling the rain having soaked through her jacket and shirt underneath, the fabric sticking to her skin uncomfortably. Her jeans stiffened with the water soaking through them, her skin freezing cold and forming goosebumps as she shivered. The temperature was dropping rapidly, along with the sunlight as darkness grew. Thunder could be heard over the roaring of rainfall, a flash of lightning striking across the skies, lighting up everywhere for a brief second before plunging it into darkness again. Who knew what the woman in her arms had, along with a gunshot wound. If she didn't hurry up, they'd risk losing her to hypothermia before the blood loss and infection. The mud grew sticky with more water being added, Charlotte nearly slipping as she turned to follow the way back home.

Righting herself, she paused for a second, trying to gather where she was before Dylan ran past her, calling out to her while running. "Follow me!"

With nothing else she could do, she decided to was best and followed after her younger brother, hoping that they hadn't ran too far away from the cabin. Thankfully, the woman was close by when she called out in pain, the trees thinning out and the cabin clear on the other end of the opening. Sighing in relief, she tried to keep up with Dylan for the last few hundred feet sprint to the front porch. The thought of being warm and dry spurred her on, and when she managed to reach the front porch, she wasted no time in jumping up two steps at a time with Dylan in front of her. Banging on the door, the teenager loudly called for the others inside. "Mason, it's us, open up!"

Waiting for a few moments, she was grateful that they were at least out of the rain with the overhang protecting them. Her body couldn't stop shivering with the cold clothes sucking out all the warmth that her body could generate, her patience wearing thin when Mason finally unlocked the door. Opening it wide, he couldn't stop the look of shock on his face when he spotted the dying woman in Charlotte's arms, barely able to splutter words out while they rushed into the cabin. "W-What happened?!"

"Dylan, I need you to grab the supplies from the medicine cabin in the bathroom! I need a needle and thread, some clean gauze, rags and tweezers!" Charlotte ordered, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Dylan nodded, able to run up the stairs first to find the stuff that she needed to patch the woman up, leaving his sister behind as she walked up the stairs. Looking over the banister, she noticed Clementine sitting on the couch, watching with saddened eyes that Charlotte could only copy, unsure what to say to comfort her. The injured survivor needed immediate help, however, and she forced herself to focus on that as she called for Mason. "Mason, I need you upstairs with me. I need help patching her up."

"What can I do? I hardly even know how to do stitches!" He replied, fear clear in his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. However, when Charlotte gave him an urgent hard stare, he sucked up the courage and followed after her, leaving Clementine alone downstairs. Reaching the door to her bedroom, she slammed it open with her foot and rushed over to her bed, laying the woman down on it before getting to work removing the wet layers of clothing.

When she peeled away the soaking jacket, she stared at the deepening blood stain on her dull white shirt with concern. Hands hovered over, almost unsure on what to do, before she dug deep and helped the woman sit up, trying to remove the shirt while explaining in soft words to her. "I need to get rid of this to get to the wound. Just try and stay like this while I…"

The woman obeyed, obviously aware that Charlotte and her brother were just trying to help her, and tried to stay as upright as she could manage while Charlotte peeled the soaking top off her shivering frame. Throwing it into a piled with the jacket, she helped the injured woman lay back down and went to fixing up the wound. The sight of the round puncture wound and blood pouring everywhere gave her pause. The gravity of the situation finally hit her, her brain suddenly deadlining as she tried to figure out what to do. At that moment, Dylan came in with the supplies in his arms, dumping them next to Charlotte as he panted. "I grabbed everything you need, Charlie."

He backed off, and finally saw the extent of the woman's wounds. Pausing in his step, he couldn't tear his eyes away as they widened, the shock getting to him as Charlotte finally pushed herself to do something. Grabbing the tweezers, she turned to her brothers and barked orders. "Dylan, go downstairs and keep an eye on Clementine. This is gonna get loud and I don't wanna leave her downstairs alone."

He nodded in response, finally tearing himself away from the situation and exiting the room, closing the door behind him to give the others privacy to do their work. With that taken care of, she turned her attention to Mason, finding the other teenage boy staring at the bullet wound with shock clear on his paled face. Her voice was sharp, trying to keep him focused enough to help her as she instructed him. "Mason, I need you to grab the bottle of water on the tableside and clean this for me."

Her words brought him out of his stunned trance, Mason gulping visibly as he managed to do what he was told. With the bottle of water in hand, he shuffled closer to the woman and hovered the bottle of the wound, pouring some of the water out onto it while his other hand reached for the rags. Passing one to him, she kept her bad hand to the side and watched as he wiped away the blood, cleaning up the wound enough so she could see. Looking in, she could see no exit wound in the back, and sighed in frustration as she explained to Mason. "I don't see an exit wound."

"That means the bullet's still in there. We gotta be careful and hope it hasn't broken up." He replied, placing the water bottle and bloodied rag back on the table before offering his hand. Staring at it, she looked up as he elaborated. "Your other hand is still useless. I can see if I can pull it out."

With an unsure nod, she passed the tweezers to Mason and moved to allow him a better position to reach into the wound. Sitting down near the upper part of the woman, Charlotte turned to look down at her, and upon seeing her frightened face, she calmly held the woman's hand and comforted her. "It's gonna be alright. Mason has to get the bullet out or it's gonna cause more damage. I'm not gonna lie to you, it's gonna hurt like hell."

"I'm going for it now." Mason piped up, reaching into the open wound with the tweezers. Without much medical background, he fumbled around trying to find it, and the sheer agony got to the woman as she let out a hoarse scream, unable to finish it as Charlotte covered her mouth. The sounds were muffled, her nostrils flaring as she tried to breathe, and her widened eyes watched Charlotte as the latter tried to explain to her.

"Your screams are gonna bring walkers. We'll try to be as quick as possible, just try to hold on." She whispered, glancing up at the window as the storm raged on outside. The loud rainfall and thunder could probably muffle the screams, but that was a risk that Charlotte was not willing to take, and so she passed one of the rags to the woman. "Here, scream into this if it'll help."

Taking the rag, the woman breathed heavily when Charlotte removed her hand, quickly shoving her face into the rag and crying out in pain as Mason continued working on her wound. His eyebrows furrowing in concentration, his eyes fixed in an unmovable stare as he worked the tweezers around the wound. Slowly, he extracted the bullet, staring at the shiny metal casing that was drenched in dark blood, throwing it away before placing the tweezers back on the bed. Wiping some of the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his jacket, he turned to Charlotte with a frown. "I don't know how bad the damage is. All I can do now is sew up the wound, patch it, and hope for the best."

The removal of the tweezer poking at her insides was a relief for the woman, who moved the rag away as she breathed heavily. Her pale face was drenched with sweat, her dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun, but was starting to loosen up with strands sticking to her forehead. Pale blue eyes squinted at them, the woman clearly exhausted and unable to take much more of the pain, and Charlotte felt horrible as she turned to explain the situation to her. "We gotta stitch you up now. The hard part's over, and you've made it this far. Just this last stretch to go now."

A small nod was all she got from the woman, and with that she turned to Mason and nodded, giving him the go ahead to start stitching her up. Threading the needle slowly, he held the needle in one hand and stared down at the wound, trying to psych himself up before finally pushing himself to start the procedure. The needle slipped through the skin easily, a small trail of blood dripping out from the incision, though it was nothing compared to the amount the woman had already lost. Small groans of pain were all that the injured party could muster anymore, her head leaning to the side as exhaustion started to take hold. Charlotte watched in worry, keeping an eye on her while Mason carried on with the stitching. Eventually, her body had enough and she finally fell unconscious, her breathing slowed down yet still detectable. At least she wasn't dead.

Finishing up with the stitches, he cut the thread with his teeth and leaned back, admiring his work with a faint smile as he piped up. "I think I'm getting better at this."

"You did good, bud. Let's cover this and leave her to rest." Charlotte praised, ruffling Mason's hair with a smile as he chuckled. Grabbing the gauze by his side, he pressed it against the wound and grabbed the sellotape that Dylan had grabbed to stick the gauze on. Pulling out a few strands, he stuck the gauze over the wound, holding it in place as he tossed the roll of sellotape back onto the bed. With the woman all patched up, he stood up and grabbed the bits and pieces that were left behind from the operation.

While he was tidying up, Charlotte remained by the woman's side, staring at the bandaged up wound while messing with her own. The bandages had started to dry, but her hand started to feel cold and painful, pushing her to start removing the wraps. Unravelling them, she grimaced at the ugly looking stitches that kept her flesh together, her skin reddened and sore to the touch, but the pain had died down since the day of the accident. Remembering Sam, she looked around her room, unable to see the dog anywhere and turned to ask Mason about it, only to be interrupted by him as he explained with a smile. "He's asleep in my room. He wouldn't leave after being frightened by the lightning, so I just left him there."

"At least he's not out there." She replied softly, gesturing to the leftover bandages that Mason had left on the bed. "Pass them over here, will ya?"

With the leftover supplies in his arms, Mason paused mid step to the door, staring at the wound quietly before he just dumped the stuff on the desk beside him. Arms freed up, he closed the distance between him and Charlotte, a new rag in his hand when he sat down beside her and gently, taking care not to hurt her too much, grabbed hold of her injured hand. Slowly and carefully, he turned the hand around to get a good look at the stitches, before dabbing the rag on the soaked skin softly. Wincing in pain, her reactions got her a sympathetic smile from Mason as he looked up. "You should keep it dry. We don't want it getting infected."

"I couldn't wait the storm out." She replied, frowning deeply as she snuck a peek at the unconscious woman behind her. "And I'm glad I didn't. She wouldn't have lasted much longer out there if Dylan and I didn't come by when we did."

"It's good that you managed to help her. Was she out there on her own?" He asked, watching the slow rises and falls of the woman's chest while she breathed faintly. Charlotte couldn't help the nervousness appear on her face, eyes unable to keep contact with Mason as she just looked away. Her lack of a response caused him to frown sadly, unable to not think the worst as his voice dropped. "What happened out there exactly?"

"You can probably tell that it was no walker bite that put her in this condition." Charlotte grumbled, recalling the other survivors that threatened her and Dylan back in the forest. The echoing of the gunshots rang in the back of her mind. Mason himself just stared down at the hand he was holding, shuffling around uncomfortably while getting to work wrapping the hand back up. The dry feeling of bandages against her wounds were a welcome compared to the uncomfortable rubbing of the freezing cold and soaking bandages from before. As he concentrated on his work, she carried on with a serious tone. "There were people chasing after her. They told me that they came from a community to the west, and that the woman and her group were thieves and left the camp with supplies… We couldn't get away without someone dying."

"You shot them, didn't you?" He asked, glancing up at his sister before adding softly. "I know why you had to. If it was between you and them… I get it."

"It wasn't me who shot them. It was Dylan. He saved our lives, but it's horrible seeing someone being able to do something as sh*tty as taking another life. You weren't there, Mason. He was cold." She explained, her words causing Mason to widen his eyes in shock at the revelation. The both of them shared a knowing look, with the teenage boy finishing up the bandages around her hand and letting it go, sitting upright as Charlotte pulled her hand back and examined the work.

He had some practice during their time in the cabin, using Clementine or Dylan to practice his work, and she could see the improvement compared to what he did with the gash she got on her cheek. The gauze on her face was long gone, rather leaving behind an ugly looking scar that was paler than her tanned skin, the once torn flesh having knitted back together somewhat and a notch left in her left ear from where the bullet caught. Fingers playing with the hole in her ear, she left her newly bandaged hand resting on her lap when Mason finally piped up. "The people he shot… do you think the community they're from is the same one that the woman's from? The one who held Dylan hostage back in the town you guys came back from?"

The idea made sense. If the woman and her group escaped from that place, it was likely that others did as well, feeling east in order to get to the coast line. There, they'd try to find someway out of this destroyed country, or try and built a new community to try and survive. Either way, she couldn't stop the fear from setting in when she realised that, if the two incidents were connected to one place, then she and Dylan killed members of it. Their friends would likely come looking, and there's was still the matter of the woman's own group left out there. If they were still alive that is. When she gave no answer to his question, Mason continued to voice his concerns. "If her group comes here, we might not have enough resources to shelter them all, and with her injury, she won't be fit enough to travel for weeks."

"We'll figure it all out. Right now, we just have to focus on keeping her and ourselves fed and warm. I ain't losing her to hypothermia after risking mine and Dylan's necks saving her." She brushed off, finally getting up on her feet and unclipping the harness wrapped around her body, shrugging her machete off her shoulder and tossing the weapon onto the dresser. Free from the heavy weapon on her back, she briskly walked over to the door, eager to get dinner cooking. With a hand resting against the solid wooden door, she pulled it open by the handle and moved to leave, pausing for a moment before turning her head slightly and calling over her shoulder to Mason. "Keep an eye on her. I'll get to starting dinner."

"We should have some leftover fish from our catch yesterday. I'd get changed first, otherwise you'll catch a cold." He pointed out, standing up from his spot on the bed and starting to clean up the mess they left after stitching up the newcomer's wounds. With a sharp nod of her head, she left the room, shutting the door behind her before pausing for a moment. Listening to the distant pitter patter of rain pelting against the roof, she could make out thunder grumbling in the far distance, seeing the window down below in the living room flashing for a split second. Backing away from the railing that stopped anyone from falling into the room below, she walked slowly down the hallway towards the bathroom.

The door was slightly ajar, likely left that way by Dylan when he burst in looking for the supplies. Pushing it open further, she ignored the quiet creak that it gave off while moving and walked inside, closing it shut with her foot before startign to strip off her soaking clothes. Unzipping her jacket, she slowly pulled her arms through the sleeves and grimaced at how wet and cold her body felt. A slight shiver went up her spine, her jaw clenched for a moment before she managed to free herself from the sticking item of clothing, tossing it over the side of the bath. Opposite the sink and medicine cabinet were closets were towels were likely kept, some left behind when the owners disappeared. Opening the lightweight door, she grabbed a worn grey towel from the small pile on the top shelf, glancing over the other shelves while standing there. Over the couple of weeks they spent at the cabin, she and the others had took any chance they could scavenging clothes for themselves, keeping them in their closets in their rooms. Those that were left in the bathroom towel closet were just drying out, and so Charlotte picked up a pair of jeans that she had her eye on when returning to Albemarle.

Amongst the shirts that were from their last wash, she picked out a grey, long sleeved one that had a black cat face on it. Smiling at how adorable it looked, she tossed them onto the closed toilet seat and carried on stripping down, carefully tugging the sleeve of her shirt over her injured hand as to not jolt it. Her soaking pants were next to go. Standing there in just her underwear, she took a moment to glance at the mirror on the medicine cabinet, trailing her eyes over her upper body while turning around. Surviving those past few months had taken its toll on her, small nicks and scrapes having scarred over her body, and all the muscle that she managed to build up while in university had wasted down, letting her shoulder blades stick out underneath her skin. Still, she was grateful to still be alive, and quickly dried her soaked skin with the towel in hand. When she was reasonably dry, the towel was tossed on the side of the bath beside her wet clothes, needing to be washed as soon as the weather turned for the better. Looking up at the window in the bathroom, she sighed to herself when the storm showed no sign of moving on, instead raging on as the thunder roared in the distance.

Another flash of lightning blinded her, lighting up the room for a split second before it grew dark again. Leaning against the closet for support, she pulled the jeans over her long legs and jumped slightly, pulling the waist over her hips before fastening the button and zipper. The dry feeling was welcomed, and she managed to get her arms through the sleeves of her shirt without rubbing her stitches uncomfortably, finally squeezing her head through the hole and smoothing down the soft fabric. With one last look in the mirror, she smiled in approval and grabbed the towel, folding it up haphazardly and chucking it back into the closet, closing the door again before exiting the bathroom. Standing alone in the hallway, she could hear soft mutters from the living downstairs and raised an eyebrow, deciding to go and check it out before starting dinner. Her stomach growled in anticipation, but she ignored it while walking briskly down the stairs.

On the couch were Clementine and Dylan, the latter lying along it with the young girl resting between him and the back of the couch, her head resting on his shoulder while he held up one of his comic books, reading it in silence while letting Clementine sleep on him. He had already changed out of his soaking clothes, wearing a thin tank top while his jacket was left hanging near the fire to dry. The sight was heartwarming. Eventually, he spotted Charlotte standing by the stairs watching them, lowering his comic book until it was lying against his thighs, and whispered so that he didn't disturb the resting child next to him. "She was pretty tired. I let her sleep while I read my comic book."

"Was she alright down here?" She asked, walking through the living room towards the couch, pausing when she was a few feet from it. "Did she say anything about the woman we brought back?"

"Just questions about who she was. I didn't tell her about the other guys back in the forest. Figured it was for the best… They're dead now anyway, no use scaring her over what happened." He explained, turning his attention back to his comic book while changing the subject. "Are you gonna handle dinner tonight? I'm starving."

"Yeah, Mason said we had some fish leftover from the catch yesterday." She pointed out, walking towards the door leading into a small closet. Dylan said nothing and just continued reading his comics, leaving Charlotte to enter the small closet and look on the floor, spotting a small hatch that led to underneath the cabin. Opening it up, she was hit with a blast of cold air hitting her in the face, her skin growing goosebumps in reaction to the temperature drop. Immediately, she noticed the cooling box left down there in the cold, keeping its contents from going off, and pulled the box up before closing the hatch again. With it in hand, she left the closet and walked over to the door leading into the kitchen, getting ready to begin dinner.

Fish box on the table once inside, she grabbed the pot from the bottom cupboard, shutting with door with her foot while placing the pot down on the side. A couple of cans of soup, some fillets of the fish that she took from the box, and she dared to even let herself take the small bottle of pepper that they found abandoned in the cabinets above them. She threw some of the meat in the dog bowl left on the table, making sure that everything was deboned to stop Sam from choking on them. It wasn't much, but it'd have to do for tonight. Everything in the pot, she moved back into the living room and placed the pot in front of the fire, taking the can and using the can opener to peel the lid away, bending it backwards before staring at the deep red contents. Tomato soup wasn't her favourite, but it was all they had. So, she poured the can into the pot with the meat, placing the empty can on the coffee table behind her before getting to opening the second can.

Emptying its contents in the pot, she lifted the pot and left it hanging over the fire, picking up the bottle of pepper from the floor. It was almost empty, and so she unscrewed the top and dumped what was left in it. The soup concoction wouldn't be that spicy, much to her disappointment, but it would have to do. Leaving it to cook, she heard the door in the kitchen open and instinctively got to her feet, rummaging through Dylan's jacket for his gun. Weapon in hand, she kept it close as the door opened. Seeing only Omid and Christa having returned, she let out an audible sigh of relief and lessened her grip on the pistol. With a raised eyebrow in amusem*nt, Omid propped his rifle on the wall and joked. "Nice welcome home. Thanks, Charlotte."

"I see you got dinner going." Christa pointed out, glancing at the pot boiling away while she dumped the few fish that they caught in the ice box left on the table. Nodding in response, Charlotte placed the pistol on the table near the box, hearing Christa ask softly. "How's your hand?"

"It's still tender, but not as bad as before. I think I avoided getting it infected." She replied, lifting her hand up while examining it. Christa was visibly relieved with that, straightening up while Omid moved around behind her, looking around as if he had misplaced something and was trying to find it again. Peeking around the pregnant survivor, Charlotte called out to her boyfriend. "You alright there, Omid?"

"Where's Mason?" He wondered, turning his head to Charlotte and Dylan. "And why are you two in different clothes?"

"Your jacket's soaking wet, Dylan." Christa added, having moved over to the hanging clothing near the fire and felt the still wet fabric. Charlotte and dylan said nothing, sharing a look between each other as the older sibling tried to think of a way to reveal the injured woman just upstairs. That wasn't even getting into how she would tell Christa and Omid about the people that they killed to protect her. Still waiting for an answer, Christa released the jacket sleeve and demanded answers. "What happened?"

"We found someone in the forest." Dylan piped up, lowering his comics again and starting to sit up, being careful to not disturb Clementine as he gently placed her head on the couch. Free from her grip, he sat with his legs off the couch, leaning forward while glancing between Christa and Omid. "She was hurt real bad. We brought her here and patched her up. Mason's upstairs keeping an eye on her."

"Jesus. You used the supplies that we barely have?" Christa sighed in frustration, rubbing the side of her head with her fingers. Charlotte crossed her arms with a frown, and even though she understood Christa's frustrations with them over depleting supplies, she didn't appreciate the tone after she risked her life to save the woman and to get the supplies in the first place. Omid tried to calm her down, placing a hand on her shoulder while asking the others.

"Did she make it at least? It won't be a waste if they used the supplies to help someone make it." He explained.

Unfolding her arms, Charlotte rubbed the back of her neck nervously, glancing up the stairs as she confessed. "We stitched her up as best we could. Right now, all we can do is wait and see if she can pull through. At least let's see if she can make it through the night."

"Was she alone?" Christa questioned. Charlotte paused for a moment, thinking about the two other survivors in the forest, and the mention of her group out there somewhere, before deciding against mentioning them. Shaking her head in response, she watched nervously to see if the others bought it. Relief washed over her as Christa just nodded in response, dropping her gaze to Clementine still fast asleep on the couch. "How did she handle it?"

"I don't know. I was upstairs helping Mason with the woman." Charlotte confessed, turning her upper body to watch Clementine as well. With Dylan sat next to her, the teenage boy took a quick glance at her before turning his attention back to the adults, having all but abandoned trying to read his comic book in peace.

Tossing the book on the coffee table, he stretched his arms forward until his joints clicked, starting to loosen his neck and back up while revealing to the others. "She wouldn't let me know anything. Just kept to herself uneven when we heard the woman screaming upstairs. Clem was scared… I could tell."

"Jesus." Omid muttered, stripping off his soaking jacket and leaving it handing on the stair bannister. His thin white T-shirt underneath fared better, though he still looked uncomfortably cold as he huddled near the fire. Christa took off her thick winter coat, leaving it hanging near the fire like Dylan's before moving to sit on the arm of the couch, a hand resting on Clementine's shoulder in a loving manner. The touch was enough to set Clementine off, her eyes snapping open and her body sitting upright quickly, a small yelp coming from her before her guardian managed to calm her down.

"It's alright, sweetie. It's just me." Christa whispered, moving her hands away as to not spook the frightened child again. Sitting upright with her legs underneath her, she rubbed her eyes free of sleep with a closed fist, before glancing around, as if confused as to where she actually was. A few moments passed, Charlotte started to grow concerned with how freaked out Clementine acted over simply being touched, but didn't butt in until the young girl asked loudly.

"Is the lady alright?" The first thing Clementine wanted to know was if someone she didn't even know made it. A warm smile appeared on Charlotte's face, calming the child down as she then continued questioning the adults. "What happens now? Will she stay with us?"

"She can stay until she's fit enough to travel, but then she has to leave." Christa interrupted, looking up at Charlotte and carried on before the latter could protest over the cold phrasing of the plan. "We don't have the supplies, or the space, and I don't like the idea of her group coming to find her."

"We don't know if she was with a group." Omid interjected, trying to keep the conversation calm.

"She… mentioned a group before she passed out. Christa might be onto something. We have a group of our own to look after, and I don't wanna get involved in whatever happened that ended with her getting shot." Dylan joined in, ignoring the heated looks he received from his sister. Christa appreciated the backup, however, nodding slowly as the teenage boy carried on softly. "We did all we can to help her. Right now, it'll be luck on whether she can actually pull through or not."

"When will she have to leave? It's not safe out there." Clementine questioned, glancing around the entire group as they shared looks. Charlotte leaned against the wall beside the window, peeping upwards as she saw the door leading to her bedroom opening, Mason standing on the landing and watching the conversation going on downstairs.

"When she's fit enough." She replied finally, earning a surprised look from Christa and Dylan over how quickly she changed her mind over the injured survivor upstairs. With her answer, Mason just pushed himself off the bannister and started walking down the stairs, alerting everyone to his presence with heavy footsteps.

Halfway down the stairs, he paused, leaning against the bannister again before finally speaking up. "She's awake."

"How's she doing?" Dylan asked his brother, moving to stand up when Charlotte stopped him with a gesture of her hand. Confused, he sat back down, still waiting for his answer whilst Mason just looked over all of them. With a deep frown, he shook his head, his black bangs obstructing some of his view, and his voice turned stern when he explained the situation to the other survivors in the room.

"She's running a fever, said she's real thirsty, and sweating up a storm. I think it might be an infection." Brushing a few strands out of his face, he kept eye contact with Charlotte, voice quiet and unsure as he asked. "I didn't wanna give her the antibiotics we have without talking about it with the group. What are we gonna do about this?"

"I don't wanna be the bad guy here, but we have to think about this. We don't even know if she'll live. If we give her the antibiotics and she dies anyway, it's just a waste of supplies that are hard to come by." Christa pointed out. Charlotte wanted to disagree, she really did, especially after the trouble she and Dylan went through to save the woman, but she couldn't help but see where the pregnant woman was coming from. Dylan and Clementine frowned, not saying anything in her defence, almost as if they were just expecting the woman to die anyway, and it was only Omid and Mason that seemed to not agree with withdrawing medication.

"Come on, guys. This is an actual person upstairs who is dying. I don't like the idea of just not trying to help her." The grown man piped up first, looking over at Charlotte as he tried to convince her. "You saved her. You patched her up, but now you're just gonna sit back and let her die?"

"What do you want us to do, Omid?" Christa interrupted, grabbing the group's attention. "I don't like this any more than anyone in this room, but we have to decide what is the best for the group."

"We're gonna let her die, aren't we?" Clementine piped up, sitting with her hands on her legs and a saddened look on her face. Charlotte felt sympathy and guilt eat away at her, unsure what to say as Christa lost that hardened expression, showing sympathy and sadness when her hand moved to rest on the back of the child's head, eyes flickering over to Charlotte as the two adult women shared a look.

"Alright." The hispanic sighed, pushing herself off the wall and moving to join Mason on the stairs. "It's just a waste of time letting her die after all the work we put in saving her life. We'll spare a few pills, and if it doesn't work, y'all can go about blaming me."

She didn't give Christa any time to rebuff her claims, rather jogging up the stairs with her brother hot on her heels. Rather than enter her bedroom, she swung a right and made her way towards the bathroom, opening the door quickly and stopping in front of the medicine cabinet. Opening it up, she glanced over the various bottles and medical supplies that they kept in it, her hand ghosting over a bottle of vitamin tablets before she finally spotted the plastic bottle antibiotics she was looking for. Fingers wrapped around it, she examined the half worn label before closing the cabinet door again. Her reflection greeted her with tired eyes. Ignoring it and instead focusing on what she had to do, she left the bathroom with Mason waiting for her by the closed bedroom door. He didn't even look at her, rather staring at the bottle of medicine in her hand before gesturing her to go in the room with a flick of his head, unwilling to follow after her.

As she passed him, she listened as he mumbled in an angered tone. "I'll be bringing up dinner. Your turn to watch over her."

When she turned her head to say something, Mason was already walking down the stairs to rejoin the rest of the group, leaving her alone to look after the unknown woman. Sighing in frustration, she wondered just how many people she pissed off today while entering the room. The temperature had dropped, the storm still raging on outside her window with only the heavy patter of rain hitting the glass pane echoing in the room. The woman just laid there, staring at the pictures that were hanging on the wall through half closed eyes. Coming closer, she was unnerved with how dull those eyes looked, sweat a clear sheen on her pale skin as her breathing become laboured. In all honesty, the woman didn't look in a good way. Trying to keep her face from turning grim, Charlotte sat down on the bed by her legs, lifting the bottle of antibiotics in her line of sight while smiling. "I got you some pills to help with the infection. They should help you get better."

Saying nothing, the woman watched creepily while Charlotte opened the bottle cap, tipping out a couple of antibiotics before leaning over to grab the water bottle left on the bedside table. When she offered the pills, the woman eyed them up for a moment, before taking them and gulping them down without a single word. Charlotte couldn't help but feel uneasy as she passed the water bottle, watching the woman chug it down to wash away the awful taste of medicine before trying to spark up a conversation. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your story?"

A confused look as a response and Charlotte decided to elaborate further. "I mean, where'd you come from before I found you in the forest? Who were those people that were chasing after you?"

Half closed eyes turned away from her, the woman turning her attention to the flash of lightning that just shone across the window then, lightning up the room for that brief moment. When it disappeared, only the candles that Mason had lit before keeping the survivors from being plunged into darkness. While sitting there, Charlotte examined the woman's face, taking in the tiredness and pain that radiated from her. Bags under her eyes copied her own. After minutes of just sitting there, she thought about just leaving the woman alone to rest, but paused in getting up when she finally spoke up. "Why'd you help me?"

"Huh?" Was all Charlotte could manage to say, surprised with the question and the lack of gratefulness from the woman that she was saved from being torn apart. Her shock slowly disappeared, taken over by the insult and annoyance that she felt as she tried to explain. "Because it was the right thing to do. You were gonna die if I didn't come along when you did."

"What's the point in me living if I don't know if my own son is alive?" The woman shot back, her voice dropping to a saddened sigh. The mention of her son caused the anger to completely disappear, Charlotte's face falling while the woman continued with her face still turned to the window. "You were told about the community to the west from here, by the people who that boy killed? It's called Howe's. My group… we didn't agree with how the man in charge there was running things. The strong must guide the weak. Problem was, he decided who was weak and who was strong. Compassion and kindness had no place there."

"I think I met someone from that place before. It drove her insane." Charlotte confessed, earning a sad and knowing smile from the woman. Eyes dropping to the unmoving hands that rested by the woman's side, Charlotte just listened to her as she continued the story.

"My son, my brother. They're still out there. In that storm." She sighed, lifting a hand to rest on her stomach, careful not to press against the wound that Mason had sewn up. She must have been terrified, nearly dying and now lying uselessly in bed with her entire family still out in the cold rain, unsure whether either of them were alive. Thinking about being in that situation, Charlotte didn't know what to say, rather placing her hand on top of the injured woman's in an attempt to comfort her.

A genuine smile appeared on her face at the gesture. Glancing down at the tanned hand on top of hers, the woman spoke up softly. "Name's Emma."

"Charlotte, though friends prefer to call me Charlie." Charlotte replied, lifting a leg so that it was resting against the thigh of her other leg. "I gotta tell you this, but my group's been talking. We can let you stay here until you're all healed and that, but then you're gonna have to leave. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I understand. I have to find my family anyway, and you've already done more than enough for me. Who knows, maybe we'll meet up again someday." Emma replied, both of them sharing a smile before a yawn passed through the former's lips. Cupping her mouth with her hand, she then stretched out and looked Charlotte up and down, one of her eyebrows raising as she asked. "How old are you exactly?"

Confused with the question, Charlotte went to answer it anyway with a shrug. "Turned twenty three back in August. Why'd you ask?"

"Honestly? I thought you were a bit too young to be those boys' mother. Who are you to them, then? Sister?" Emma questioned, leaning back into her pillow.

Keeping her gaze up, Charlotte let a small smile come to her lips, thinking about her brothers and grateful that there was someone who wouldn't assume she was old enough to be their mother. A soft laugh escaped her lips, and she just rubbed the back of her neck bashfully. "They're my little brothers. It's been just us for a good couple of months now."

"I take it your parents aren't around anymore?" The question caused the smile to disappear completely. Sadness instead replaced it, her eyes falling down to the quilt, and she found herself unwilling to actually answer the question. She didn't need to, as her silence was a perfectly good answer to the injured woman, who just left the uncomfortable conversation there with a quiet. "Ah, I see. I understand that. It's just been Nick and I for years."

"Nick? He your son?"

A nod was her response. Listening to her, Charlotte twitched uncontrollably when lightning struck again, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. It was pitch black out there. Watching the rain drip down her window, she was thankful for being inside the cabin that night, unable to get the thought of Emma's group being stuck out there out of her head. She thought about helping her find them, but she was already in deep sh*t with her group. Christa wasn't happy with Charlotte bringing Emma here, and then going against her and Dylan's wishes to give the injured survivor some of their precious antibiotics, then there was the angry tone in Mason's voice just before. Tired, she sighed in frustration and rubbed the front of her face, leaning forward into her hand while she stared at the carpeted floor. The owners before clearly didn't bother cleaning up before they disappeared, with crumbs and stains littering the floor and causing her to grimace in disgust.

From behind her, she could hear Emma pipe up. "Your brother seems a charming young lad. He was very hospitable when I woke up. He was the one who patched me up, wasn't he?"

"I helped…. Somewhat." Charlotte mumbled, still staring at the carpet as she further added. "He's the only one out of all of us who knows about patching people up. Before all this, he wanted to a doctor, you know? Studying to go to medical school and sh*t. When we were with… a different group before, he was learning more with our doctor."

"You were with a different group?" Emma picked up on, causing Charlotte to lean back and nod slowly. She hated thinking about them. Having finally moved on somewhat from finding her friends on the road, she hated having those feelings brought back up, the memories of what her so called friends did to Samantha. Her fingers ghosted over the large scar on her face, her face grim and dark at the living memory of what people she trusted did to her. Emma noticed the gesture, her voice low and cautious as she asked slowly. "Did… did they do that to you?"

"They shot me in the face and killed my girlfriend." She replied bluntly, deciding to just get it out of the way. The way she phrased it shocked Emma, who sat there with widened eyes and her mouth slightly parted, unsure what to say while Charlotte just furrowed her eyebrows in anger. She pushed the feelings away, unwilling to let them consume her again, and just added with a gentler tone. "You're not the only one who's had to run away from people you thought were your friends."

The conversation died there. It was awkward, just sitting there with Emma after confessing to such a big thing, but thankfully not long after the door opened slowly, alerting the two survivors inside to the presence of a newcomer. Standing in the doorway with bowls was Mason, the teenage boy smiling at Emma as he walked in, handing a bowl to Charlotte and placing the other one on the bedside table. Straightening himself up, he turned to the injured party and asked her. "How're you feeling?"

"Still a bit hot, and it feels like my insides are on fire." She confessed, looking over at the bowl with doe like eyes as she added nonchalantly. "Still hungry though."

"It might take a while for the infection to go, I think, but I have food here for you." He explained, passing the bowl of soup and fish over to the woman. Taking it with a grateful nod, she wasted no time in digging in, spooning mouthfuls of warm soup and bits of fish meat that had all molded together. It had likely been a long time since she had a hot meal, judging by the blissful expression on Emma's face. Spirling her spoon in her own soup, Charlotte messed around with her food, her mind somewhere else until she noticed Mason leaving the room. Quickly, she set her bowl on the floor and ran after him, turning the corner to see him leaning against the wall near her bedroom door. He seemed deep in thought, not even noticing her there until she cleared her throat.

When he looked up at her with a neutral expression, she came straight out with the truth. "What's wrong, bud? You brushed me off before like nothing."

"It's nothing." He replied quickly, too quickly for Charlotte's liking as she frowned at him. When he realised she wasn't going to let it go, he pushed himself off the wall and confessed the troubles plaguing him. "Alright. I overheard you guys talking before."

"I suspected as much." She muttered, rubbing the back of her neck as Mason nodded with his face showing the anger he was feeling. Eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed, he crossed his arms and stood there in silence, listening as his sister tried to defend herself. "Look, we're all just scared, okay? We didn't know if she was gonna make it and the others didn't want the pills going to waste. They're pretty hard to get nowadays, bud. If it were different, you know I'd do everything I could to help Emma. You know that, right?"

"I thought I did. I thought you guys still cared about helping people, but then I heard you guys agreeing to just let her die from infection." He shot back, lowering his gaze as he tried to calm himself down. This was the first time she saw her brother get truly angry, usually knowing only a shy yet kind boy that greeted her with smiles and comforting words. This Mason, she didn't enjoy seeing him. "I'm sick of people dying. I want to help, but I can't do that with everyone turning against my choices. I expected Dylan to agree with Christa, but… I thought at least you had my back, Charlie."

"Mason. I know that things have been pretty sh*tty, and I'm sick of seeing people die too, but it's just the way the world is-"

"Don't." Mason interrupted, glaring at Charlotte as he continued to rant. "I'm not listening to the same old bullsh*t. That's the excuse Logan gave, you know? When our group were stealing from people, killing them, he told me and Dylan that one day, we'd be doing the same, that it was just the way the world is. Well, f*ck him, I don't believe a word of it."

Taken aback with the words coming from Mason's mouth, Charlotte wondered what brought this side out of her little brother, standing there with a shocked expression while Mason calmed himself down. His anger faded away, rather replaced by a depressed glint in his eyes. Slowly, he turned around and moved towards the stairs, muttering behind him to Charlotte. "You should get something to eat. I'll be up later to check Emma."

With that, he was gone, and Charlotte was left on the landing alone, wondering what had happened to her siblings to change them from the people she once knew and loved. Down about her situation, she just rubbed her face with her hand and groaned in annoyance, turning back to her bedroom to at least enjoy the dinner before it was time for lights out.

Chapter 9: Merry Christmas

Over a week had passed since the incident with Dylan. The winter had died off somewhat over that time, the snow becoming more and more of a rare occurrence as the ground was exposed underneath what once was a blanket of white. The grass were only in patches, spread wide amongst the fields of brown mud that had been stepped and trodden on by the numerous feet that had walked in the forest before Charlotte and her group even came to the state. Some of the trees were still stripped of their leaves, their bare branches stretched outwards over the forest floor, creating stripes of shadows that darkened the ground. A walker hunched over something, tearing and chewing noises loud in the air as it continued to gorge itself on whatever it had found and killed.

Charlotte kept crouched in the bushes, watching the corpse as it paid no attention to her. A machete was gripped tightly in her hands, the blade shining in the sunlight that managed to get through the thick cover of branches and leaves of the pine trees. Slowly, she approached the walker, waiting until she was on the edge of the foliage that was hiding her before standing up, raising the machete over her head. The walker continued to pay no attention, more interested in the food that it had found rather than the machete that was forced into the top of its skull. Immediately releasing its catch, its hands fell to its side while Charlotte pulled the machete out roughly. The thud from its body collapsing to the ground was a dull sound, barely echoing before all fell silent again. The stench was almost overpowering, even through the bandana wrapped around her face, and trying not to breathe too deeply, she turned her attention to the food that the walker was munching on.

It was a rabbit. A crossbow bolt was sticking out of its side, stained a deep red from its blood, and Charlotte sighed in frustration, plucking the bolt from its corpse while staring at the gash from its throat. The flesh had been torn violently by the walker, teeth marks clear in the skin where the fur had gone missing. Shoving the bolt back in the pack strapped to her side, she turned to the walker and kicked it in the face, cursing in a venomous tone. "f*cking bastard. That was my f*cking kill."

After venting some of her anger, she backed off a little bit, pulling the bandana down to rest around her neck while she took in a deep breath of fresh air. She had been out for hours, tracking down animals so that they could have something for dinner. At best, she had found some squirrels and a weasel. From behind her, she heard rustling from within the bushes, the grown woman turning on her heel just in time to see Clementine stumbling out of the foliage. Small backpack over her shoulder, she lifted her baseball cap further back on her head as she stared up at Charlotte. "Did you find the rabbit?"

"Yeah…" she sighed, gesturing to the chewed on rabbit left on the ground. "But the walker got to it first."

Disappointment was clear on Clem's face, the little girl moving closer to the walker and staring at the large gash in its head with disgust. With a metallic sound, Charlotte shoved her machete back into the sheaf that she had fastened to her waist, leaving a hand resting on the hilt as she looked over Clementine with a neutral expression. Over the week, they had continued hitting stores in the towns just outside the forest, and they had hit lucky with a hiking store further within Albemarle. With new hiking boots and a thick bubble coat over her sweater and thin shirt, she watched as Clementine shoved her free hand in her pocket and turned back to her companion. "Can't we just cut around it?"

"That's not something I wanna risk, Clem. You know the rules. Something's bit, it gets thrown out." She explained, passing over the rabbit as she affectionately rubbed the top of Clementine's head. A smile on her face, she gestured with a flick of her head when the child looked up at her in annoyance. "Come on. We still got a few more hours of sunlight."

Lifting her backpack further up her shoulder, she followed after Charlotte as the two moved through the foliage. Pushing a branch out of the way, the older of the two made the way through the vegetation easier for the child accompanying her, trodding down the branches and leaves while Clementine followed closely behind her. Cautiously, she led Clem out of the bushes and onto an abandoned path, pausing in her walk to stare up at a rusted sign that had black silhouettes of animals on them. In large yellow letters underneath read 'Beware of your surroundings'. Glancing around, she noticed Clementine coming up to her side and staring at the sign, asking in a curious voice. "Do you think we'll find any of them out here?"

"That's if the walkers haven't already driven them out." She replied quietly, turning her head to the distant sound of rustling as she rested a hand on Clementine's back, guiding her closer to the grown up's side as she muttered. "Keep close."

They carried on down the path. Dirt and leaves crunching under their shoes, Charlotte readjusted the strap of her crossbow on her shoulder, feeling it dig uncomfortably into her flesh even underneath her jacket. The sun was shining just off centre in the sky, some clouds starting to form as rain threatened to come soon. From beside her, Charlotte listened as Clementine asked softly. "When can we go home? My feet are starting to hurt."

"Don't worry, darling. We just keep looking for a little while longer and then I'll call it quits for today." She consoled, flashing a smile down at the other survivor. Clementine met her gaze, and slowly, she returned the smile with a soft one of her own, before a sound just off to their right caused them to tense up immediately. Charlotte's hand instinctively shot in front of Clem, pushing her further behind the adult while the latter pulled her pistol out, keeping it close as she stared at the unknown danger with widened eyes. Pulling the crossbow off her shoulder, she stumbled about trying to grab a bolt from the pack, managing to grab one and shove it in the crossbow before the source of the noise came out of the bushes.

Coming onto the path, Charlotte kneeled down with Clementine copying her actions, the both of them staring at what was revealed to be a young buck that wandered into the open. Up the path from them, at least fifty yards, the animal had not noticed them yet and moved on to graze on ferns that were crossing on the sides of the path. Crossbow ready, she aimed down the sights, centering them on the buck as she muttered. "Come on, now…"

Her feet moved up the path slowly. Small, careful steps being taken in care not to step on any fallen leaves or anything that would give her position away. The wind blew in her face, and she tried to remember what her father taught her when he took a younger Charlotte hunting with him. Always stay downwind of the target. She heard that gruff voice echo in the back of her mind. Breathing steadily, she watched as the buck paused, its head still low as it looked around, missing the survivors as they shuffled closer behind the bushes that grew over the path. With nothing seemingly dangerous around, it

Suddenly, the buck stopped, lifting its head up high as it looked around, ears moving around while it tried to figure out what it had heard. Holding her breath, Charlotte's finger neared the trigger, trying to keep the crossbow steady before pulling the trigger. The bolt made no sound as it flew through the air, and the buck could barely react before it penetrated through its side, letting out a horse cry before collapsing to the ground with a loud thud. Lowering the crossbow, she heard Clementine happily point out. "You got it!"

"Looks like we're having venison tonight." She replied, smirking down at Clementine before the two snuck out of their hiding place. Approaching the buck, she kneeled down beside it and stared at the crossbow bolt lodged deep into its side, just behind its front leg. Slowly, she grabbed the shaft and pulled forcefully, managing to free her bolt from its flesh and cause the blood to drip out of the wound. Clementine watched from behind her, hands folded in front of her with the pistol pointing downwards, her finger away from the trigger as her face grimaced at the sight of the flesh moving with the bolt being removed.

Looking over her catch, Charlotte twirled the bolt between her fingers before finally putting it back in the pack with the others. Hands gripped the small buck, testing its weight as she nodded slowly, breathing deeply as she prepared herself to pick the catch up. A low grunt came through her throat, arms straining and legs pushing her off the ground as she hauled the dead prey onto her shoulders, the head lolling against her arm while her head rested against the beast's stomach. Clementine watched with surprise, her voice soft and worried as she asked the grown up. "Isn't it heavy?"

"A lil. It's only a juvenile, I think." She brushed off, flashing a weak smile before grimacing under the deer's weight. She regretted her choices. Still, she walked as fast as she could down the path, trying to recall the way back to the cabin. Clementine's little legs had to work hard to keep up with the other's long strides, her footsteps making small crunching noises against the dirt and gravel of the path. Both of them walking in silence, Charlotte took a sneak peek at the child accompanying her on the trip, looking down at the baseball cap that covered her face from view. The fabric was dirty and worn, the once white now a dull grey with a small blood stain in the corner, long dried.

Just as Clementine looked up at Charlotte, the latter turned away and just stared at the trees that they slowly passed by. Even after spending a week with the child and her guardians, she hadn't managed to break that uncomfortable silence that so often filled their conversations. Clementine was an enigma, that much was sure, and she found herself wanting to break down those walls that the child built to protect herself, bring her out with the others to see the child she once was. No words were uttered between them, and Clementine just shrugged her shoulders softly and kept watch on the path ahead. Her hands were shoved in her pockets, trying to keep warm in the dropping temperatures, and her backpack moved about on her back with every step she took. Head held high, her amber eyes shone in the low sunlight and her lips pulled into a thin line, the child finally looking back at Charlotte and broke the silence between them.

"When Christa has this baby… do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?" She asked, maintaining eye contact with the other survivor as she waited for her answer.

Lifting the deer more onto her shoulders to stop it from slipping down, Charlotte pursed her lips together in thought and looked off into the distance. Hands dug into the short pelt of her kill, a thankful thought running through her mind as she noticed that the antlers had long been shedded, no risk to poking her eyes out or hitting her in the face with every step she took. Finally, after some thought given to it, she glanced down at Clementine and gave her answer with a genuine smile. "I reckon it'll be a lil' boy."

"How do you know? It might be a girl." She shot back, earning a chuckle from Charlotte that sparked a confused look to form on her youthful face. "What's so funny?"

"It's just…" Charlotte paused, her chuckling ceasing to a cold silence as her smile faltered somewhat. "I remember the same conversation that my parents had with me and my sister. Mama was expecting a kid, and my dad sat us down and asked us 'Well, do youse two want a lil' sister or a lil' brother?'"

Her gruff imitation of her father's deep and gravelly voice caused Clementine to giggle. She smirked in response, and carried on with the story. "Elizabeth wanted a lil' brother. Someone she could play in the dirt with and teach how to fix the truck that we had. She got me first round, and I'm pretty sure she didn't want any more girly girls after that."

"And you? What did you want?" Clementine continued to question, curiosity easy to see in her wide childlike eyes.

With a silent look of surprise, Charlotte raised an eyebrow as she recalled the conversation years ago. She was only young, nearing her tenth birthday, while Elizabeth had just turned thirteen and ready to have more responsibility around the farm. With a mutter, she confessed to the child beside her. "Neither. I didn't want another sibling, at least I didn't really care anyway. Even when Dylan and Mason were born… I wasn't the sister I shoulda been."

"What'd you mean?" Clementine wondered, slowing her walking pace as Charlotte slowed down too.

Pausing in her steps, she stood there silently as Clementine stopped a few steps ahead of her, staring back with a worried gaze clear on her face. With a quiet voice, Charlotte explained to the younger survivor, her face fallen in sadness and guilt as she recalled her behaviour all those years ago. "I pretended that they didn't even exist. When Mama was so tired that she fell asleep where she stood, I didn't bother picking the twins up and comforting them. I did f*ck all for them, and Elizabeth did everything… I'm not proud of that."

Clementine lowered her gaze to the ground, the brim of her baseball cap covering her eyes for a moment as she thought about something. Charlotte meanwhile kept walking, wanting to put the past behind her and just focus on the present. They had to get the food back to the group, and hope that the others had found something while out on their scavenging hunt. She recalled that morning, having to leave Dylan behind to watch over Christa and the cabin while she and Clementine went out hunting. Omid and Mason had already left, going to the river to see if they had caught anything and gather more fire wood for the stove. From beside her, she listened as Clementine asked in a hesitant tone. "Elizabeth was your sister, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she was." Charlotte responded, her face crestfallen at the reminder of her deceased family.

Noticing the change of expression, Clementine silently clambered around and tried to think of something, something that would change the obviously painful subject, and finally she recalled with a small smile on her face. "My babysitter, Sandra, and I would play this game where we pretended to be secret sisters."

"That's sounds fun." The grown woman replied, smiling down at Clementine, who returned the smile with her own bright grin, before the two of them continued to look ahead, down the worn and empty path that led them further into the forest.

"I know you miss your family." The little girl suddenly piped up, her smile fading as she confessed. "I miss my parents… but we got each other, right? Lee once told me that as long as we got people we care about, we'll be okay."

"He sounds like he was a good man." Charlotte muttered, earning a saddened look from Clementine as the latter nodded slowly.

"Yeah." She started, looking away from her friend. "He was."

The conversation died there. Nothing but the crunching of gravel and dirt under their shoes, and the soft breeze blowing through the trees, could be heard in the silence. Yet, Charlotte was constantly on edge, ears burning as she kept an ear out for any groans or growls that would give away any walkers nearby. At least the dead made a noise. Out in the forest, with foliage and and hidden places all over, any survivor could sneak up on them and rob the two blind, especially if they were just as starving as they were. Glancing around, she stared through the tree trunks into the distance. The exhaustion and hunger pushed her eyes to see silhouettes in the distance, standing there staring back at them, and yet when she shook her head and opened her eyes again, the figures were nowhere to be seen. Frowning deeply, she just focused on getting to the cabin as fast as they could, unable to shake the feeling that they were being watched off.

Clementine tried to keep up with the taller woman, looking around as she too looked unnerved by the forest around them. Just as Charlotte was about to comfort her, a loud cawing noise came from the bushes next to them, both survivors jumping in fright as crows flew out of their shelter, taking to the skies as they stood there. Breathing heavily, she calmed her frayed nerves down, glancing down at Clementine and muttering calmly. "It's alright. Nothing out here besides the birds."

"I dunno. I don't like it out here. It's creepy." She replied with a frown. Charlotte had to agree with her on that, sharing the dislike of the forest with the little girl. With looming trees blocking out some of the sunlight, casting the ground in shadows, and that light slowly fading with dusk coming soon, she did not want to be stuck out there in the dark and cold. When they moved to keep walking, the bushes rustled once more and the two froze in place. A small gasp of fear came from Clementine before she managed to pull her pistol out, aiming it at the bushes and called out. "Come on out. We're armed."

Charlotte watched closely as the source of the rustling came out of the bushes, and when she realised what it was, her face portrayed both confusion and relief. Skinny and clearly starving, it was a dog that had scared them. Upon seeing the curious animal, Clementine lowered her gun and stared in awe. "Look, Charlotte! A dog!"

"Don't go near it, Clem." She warned, staring at the dog while Clementine stopped mid-step, confusingly watching her friend as the latter carried on to explain. "We don't know if he's feral. Poor guy might have gone months without seeing another person."

"He's so skinny. He must be really hungry." The child pointed out, putting her gun back in her pocket as she held out her hand. The dog stared at it, panting slightly before approaching slowly, sniffing the small hand held in front of it before turning away, clearly not interested unless there's food to be given. Returning her hand back to her side, she looked back up at Charlotte and piped up. "He doesn't seem mean. He might just want some food."

Standing there, Charlotte thought about it for a few moments, before sighing to herself and throwing the deer to the ground. The dog jumped back at the sound of the heavy thud, watching the humans while she turned to her companion, gesturing to the backpack that Clementine had slung over her shoulder. "Give it here."

Shrugging it off, she passed it to Charlotte and stood there while the latter zipped it open. Trying to rummage through the animals that they caught, she pulled out a squirrel, staring at its unblinking eye with a disgusted expression, before turning her attention back to the dog. Its eyes trained on the squirrel, she tossed it to the starving creature with a soft mumble. "Here you go."

The dog wasted no time in tearing into the squirrel, snatching it up from the spot where it fell on the ground and started snacking on its flesh. Clementine grimaced at the sight of the flesh being torn, turning away as Charlotte carried on packing everything back up. Zipping the bag closed, she gave it back to its rightful owner and picked the deer up, sparing a few seconds watching the dog before saying goodbye to it. "Well, lil guy, we best be off. Good luck out there."

Clementine seemed saddened to leave the dog there, but she followed after Charlotte as the adult walked past, leaving the dog to carry on with its meal. With it behind them, Charlotte just kept looking ahead as Clementine reached her side, peeking over her shoulder as she tried to hint her wants to the other survivor. "Not much food out here for him. Maybe we could take him with us?"

"I'm sorry, Clem, but we can't. Besides the fact that we have to find food to feed him too, we can't risk letting a dog in the house that we don't know. What if he attacked the others, or you?" She explained, causing Clementine to look down at her feet, her hand gripping the fabric of her coat on her lower arm. Her frown turning into a saddened one, she understood the compassion Clementine felt for the animal, but her survival instinct pushed that same compassion away, knowing the dangers of letting a wild animal into their home far outweighed the positives. However, when she heard the pitter patter of feet behind them, she paused and turned her upper body around, trying to keep the deer from slipping off her shoulders as she realised that the dog was actually following them.

With the remains of the squirrel in its mouth, it sat down when the humans noticed its presence and dropped the carcass. Sharing a look with Clementine, the young pleading eyes causing her to sigh in frustration before she conceded. "Alright, alright. The lil' guy can come with us."

"He has a name." The child replied happily, pointing at the collar that was around the dog's neck. Eyebrow raised in suspicion, she stood there as Clementine approached the dog, tensed and ready to spring if the animal tried to do anything. Gently, she checked the tag dangling under the dog's chin and slowly read out. "Sam… His name's Sam."

"Sam. He doesn't behave like a feral dog. Where's your family, boy?" Charlotte wondered, watching as Clementine frowned deeply at the question. Sam, obviously, didn't respond to the question, but just sat there with a small whine coming up from his throat. It was pretty obvious what happened to his family. He was there, they weren't, and so Charlotte replied softly. "Don't worry, Sam. We'll be your family, now."

Clementine's face lit up at that. The sight of such a happy expression brought a smile to Charlotte's face, but they'd have to keep moving if they wanted to get home before it got too dark. With a flick of her head, she started walking, her voice calm yet stern as she called out. "Come on, Sam."

With the call of his name, Sam started following after the grown up. Clementine kept to his side, walking at his pace as the duo followed after Charlotte, who was watching the path spirling through the forest for as far as her eyes could see. She was ready to call it a night, feeling the temperature drop and her exposed skin starting to form goosebumps, her teeth clenching together to stop them chattering. While she walked in silence, she listened as Clementine kept muttering to the dog. "You'll like it at the cabin. It's warm and there's plenty of food for you, and you'll have a family again."

"You ever had a dog before, Clem?" Charlotte asked, keeping her eyes straight ahead as the weight of the deer on her shoulders weighed her down somewhat.

After a short pause, she thought about just letting the subject go, but heard the child explain in a quiet tone. "No. My mom didn't like dogs, but I had a hamster and a goldfish. He was called Peanut."

"The hamster or the goldfish?" She elaborated, earning a small giggle from Clementine.

"The goldfish. My hamster was called Cookies."

"Oh…" Charlotte trailed off, her eyebrows furrowing as she asked in confusion. "Why did you call him Cookies?"

"Because one time, he got out of his cage and ate a whole box of cookies. We found him in the cupboard the next morning." A snort came from Charlotte at the explanation, before she quickly tried to hide her laughter from the other survivor. The story was cute, and despite her efforts to hide her laughter, it just made Clementine smile at seeing Charlotte let loose for once. Calming herself down, she noticed the path veering off, growing smaller as they followed after it. It wouldn't be long before they reached the cabin.

"Did you have a dog, Charlotte?" Clementine suddenly asked.

With a shake of her head, she responded with a quick. "No. Well, we did have a dog, but I didn't see her as mine. She was a sheep dog we used to herd the flock of sheep we had. Really, she was just an animal to me, more like my horses rather than an actual pet."

"That sounds nice. I wish I coulda seen the farm." The little girl muttered, before adding in a more hopeful tone. "You said that we could go back one day?"

The hope clear in her words caused Charlotte to frown, keeping her face hidden behind the dead deer as to not worry the child. After a few moments of silence, nothing but the wind and Sam's panting filling in the lack of conversation between them, she realised that Clementine was waiting for an answer, and decided to keep that hope alive as she agreed, trying to keep her lie as believable as possible. "Yeah. I don't know when, but one day we'll see the farm again."

"I hope it's soon." Clementine fell silent after that. Both of them walking through the darkening forest, Charlotte noticed the trees moving away as a clearing was just ahead, the familiar building standing tall amongst the trees, the smoke billowing out of the chimney as the fire was likely turned on. The thought of sitting in front of the fire spurred Charlotte to keep walking, basically jogging to the cabin with Clementine trying to keep up with her, Sam right by her side as they moved through the opening towards the front porch.

Slowing down to a stop, she stared up at the front door, noticing a dark figure through the window and raised an eyebrow. Slowly, the door opened and Dylan was revealed to have been standing behind it, staring down at the two before he practically bolted down the steps to them. Finally dropping her kill to the ground, she stood there as he stared at the deer with surprise. "Woah, I was only hoping for a few squirrels at best."

"That ain't the only thing we brought back." She revealed, stepping aside so that Dylan could see Sam. Sitting there, the dog panted while his tail wagged from side to side, watching the teenager with beady black eyes while the eldest of the trio added. "Say hi to Sam."

"Holy sh*t. What's a dog doing all the way out here?" He swore, earning a frown from Clementine as she quickly muttered. "Sorry."

"We found him coming back here. His family… ain't around anymore." Her words trailed off as she crossed her arms, staring down at Sam as the animal had no idea what they were talking about. Dylan gave the poor dog a sympathetic look, before reaching out to pet him on the head. After a few pats, Sam gave off a warning growl and Dylan immediately retracted his hand, glaring at the dog while he muttered to his sister.

"He ain't very friendly." He pointed out, and after that little growl, Charlotte had to agree with him. Even though she accepted Sam into the group, she still didn't feel alright with just letting him into the house, especially after he just growled at Dylan. Slowly, she turned her sights towards the old shed, staring at it silently while Dylan followed her gaze, trying to figure out what it meant as he slowly asked. "You gonna put him in the shed?"

"Just until he settles into the group. I don't want him in the house while he's still growling. It won't take much for him to bite one of us." She explained, turning back to Dylan and Clementine as she gestured to the house. "Go on inside. Dylan, bring me some blankets so I can at least make him a bed."

"Will do. Come on, Clem." He ordered, making his way back up the steps with Clementine following after him. She paused, quickly turning to Charlotte as she opened up her backpack, taking out the squirrel and weasel that they managed to fit in there and chucked them on top of the buck, before leaving to go inside the cabin without saying another word. Watching them go, Charlotte then turned her attention to skinning their kills for the day. There was more than enough meat to feed the group, especially with the young buck, and she wondered where they'd store the excess meat until tomorrow. With knife in hand, she tried to figure out how to properly skin the animal, trying to remember what her father taught her, but it was many years ago.

On cue, Dylan reappeared with worn blankets in his arms, his footsteps creaking on the stairs behind her as he approached her while talking. "I found some old blankets in one of the closet upstairs... What are you doing?"

"Erm, skinning the animal?" She retorted, pointing beside her with the knife as she then ordered him. "Just plop them down there. I'll sort out the dog's bed after I skin these kills."

Doing as he was told, he threw the blankets down on the ground beside her, and watched silently as the elder sibling tried to skin the buck. With eyes on her back, she suddenly found herself nervous, unsure in what she was doing, and when she tried to cut into the deer, Dylan finally piped up while moving to her side. "I'll skin them. You can go and sort the shed out."

"Since when do you know this stuff?" She shot back, earning a smirk from her brother as she recalled. "Oh yeah… Dad."

"I actually paid attention to what he taught me. Go on." He instructed, taking the knife from Charlotte's larger hands and started cutting away the pelt. Kneeling there with a stunned expression, she just shrugged and left him be, plucking the blankets up from the ground beside her and standing up slowly. Stretching out her sore arms, she turned to see Sam lying down where he was once sitting, watching Dylan working away on the buck with hungry eyes.

With a strong tone, she called out to the dog. "Sam, come!"

His head turned to look at her, before he ignored her orders and carried on watching Dylan cutting away at the skin. Clearly, he was waiting to share some of that meat, still hungry even after devouring that squirrel that he was given beforehand. Still, Charlotte frowned deeply, hating that she was being ignored by the animal, and with a sterner tone, she called out to him again. "Sam. Come here."

With her staring straight at him, he finally listened to her orders and slowly rose to his feet, following after the tall woman as she walked towards the shed. The sun was peeking behind the trees, the skies an array of beautiful colours, and it would soon be nightfall. So, with the doors slowly opening, the creaking loud in the air, she moved in with the blankets slung over her shoulder. Sam seemed apprehensive, sitting by the door while his new owner went about making the shed more comfortable for him. Finding an empty box, she lined it with blankets and made sure it was comfortable enough for the dog to sleep in, though it would surely be cold in the shed tonight. With the bed done, she admired her work while comforting the dog. "Don't worry, Sam. I'll get to making you a nice home tomorrow, and if you behave, we can let you into the cabin. Think of this as a…. Probation period."

He let out a short bark at that. Rubbing the back of her neck, she sighed in agreement. "Yeah, I wouldn't wanna sleep in here if I were you either. But, we gotta do things that we don't wanna do, yeah?"

Another bark at her question. Humming in response, she took another glance around the shed. There was a small hole in the corner, somewhat large enough for Sam to escape if he really wanted to, and so she plucked the hammer resting on the tools rack on the wall and looked around for supplies to fix it. Looking around, she found some chains and a large hooking on one of the shelves, picking them up and weighing them in her hands as she muttered. "Whoever owned this cabin before was sure into hunting. All this tack and hunting gear, thank God we found this place before anyone else."

"What you got there?" Dylan suddenly asked, appearing at the shed door with his eyes trained on the chains in Charlotte's hands. "You got some meat chains?"

Startled by his appearance, she jumped and turned her upper body, glaring at Dylan as she scolded him. "Jesus f*cking H. Christ, Dylan, you can't go about scaring people like that!"

"Look, I just need the chains." He pointed out, crossing his arms as his sister shot him a confused look. Slowly, he pointed back to the kills he left with his thumb, explaining in a tired tone. "I need to hoist the buck up if I wanna skin it. Problem is, the f*cker's real heavy. I need your help hoisting him up."

"You help me with fixing up this shed tomorrow, and you got yourself a deal." She offered, gesturing to the hole in the wall with the hammer. He stood there, staring at the hole with a neutral expression before moving his gaze back to Charlotte. Slowly, he nodded and offered his hand out, waiting as Charlotte placed the hammer on the table and grabbed his hand, shaking it to signal their offer being accepted before he retracted it. Turning around, he walked back towards the deer, waiting for Charlotte to follow after him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sam slinking past her and curling around in his new bed, clearly pleased with having somewhere warm and dry to sleep the night. Quietly, she muttered to him while exiting the shed. "We'll keep you safe, lil' guy."

Leaving the shed doors open, she walked back down the path briskly, watching Dylan kneeling beside the buck as her grip tightened on the chains she held in her hand. The hook swung lightly with each step she took, the sharp edge poking the side of her thigh soft enough that it didn't pierce through her clothes and skin. Still, she didn't like the thought of being stabbed by the thing. Reaching her brother's side, she listened as he explained, cutting a deep hole in the deer's side. "I'll just cut a hole here, and we can hang up the deer over on that tree there. It'll make it easier for me to skin it."

Removing the knife, he grabbed the upper part of the buck and lifted, straining somewhat as he called out for Charlotte's help. "I could really need a hand here."

Slinging the hook over her shoulder, she grabbed the lower end of the buck and picked it up, faring better than Dylan was. Following after him as they shuffled towards a nearby tree, she decided to try and strike up a conversation with her brother. "So, how was it back here?"

"Quiet." He replied, only saying that as he silently let his part of the buck go and reached out for the chains, waiting patiently as Charlotte dropped her half of the buck and lifted the chains off her shoulder. Passing them to him, she just watched as he fed the hook through the hole in their catch, before tossing the chain over a thick branch of the tree, keeping it close to the trunk to prevent snapping. Without a word, he passed the chain back to his sister and gave the order. "Pull."

Working together, they pulled the chain more and more, Charlotte watching as the deer was starting to be pulled off the ground. With Dylan helping her this time, she found it easier to handle the weight of the dead animal than she did on her own walking back to the cabin, finding that the deer was hanging in the air after just a few tugs on the chain. While Dylan went about securing the chain, she decided to try again with the conversation. "There any problems while we were gone?"

"No. Christa had a few kicks with the baby, but she was fine after a while. No walkers were around either." He explained, leaving the chain alone after he managed to secure it. Knife in hand, he went about skinning the animal again as he muttered. "I get that you're just checking up on me, but I'm fine. I don't need someone constantly on my back."

"Did you suddenly forget what happened last week?" Charlotte pointed out, trying to keep a calming tone as Dylan paused. With the knife still in the deer, he stared at it while she continued trying to converse with him. "Buddy… You tried to kill yourself. Can you really blame me for at least being worried for you?"

"But I didn't. I'm fine now." He retorted, clearly growing annoyed with the topic they were discussing. Before she could even get another word in, he brushed off her worried attempts and just carried on with the task at hand. "I need to concentrate. Go and fix the hole in the shed, we don't want Sam getting out and running off."

With a sigh, she decided to leave the conversation there and left Dylan to his work, making her way back to the shed. With the light growing dimmer, she looked up at the skies, watching the once vast array of colouring dulling into the same dark navy blue as the moon faintly shone in the distance. She'd have to fix the hole and then go inside for the night, it was too dangerous to be wandering around when it got dark. With the shed doors still open, she gave a glance to Sam, who was fast asleep in his bed, and went about fixing the hole in the wall. With a plank of wood taken from the barrel near the back of the shed, she took some of the nails left in a box on the table and the hammer that she left, before making her way to the hole in the far corner of the shed. Kneeling down, she pressed the plank of wood against the hole, finding that it covered more than just the hole, and started hammering the nails into the wood.

The noise woke Sam up, the dog watching Charlotte work away from his bed as he yawned, a small whine coming from him before he closed his mouth again. Ignoring him for a second, she hammered in the last nail, pulling the board to make sure that i couldn't come loose by Sam or the harsh winds that often plagued this forest. Hopefully, it would stop most of the cold from getting in the shed that night. Done with her job, she decided to sit there for a few minutes, just until Dylan was done skinning the deer and they could go inside. With her knees pulled up and her hands resting on top of them, she stared straight ahead, watching Sam staring at her from the corner of her eye. It seemed her unwillingness to even look him in the eyes peaked his interest, the skinny animal standing up from his bed and slowly moving towards her, almost unsure on whether it should or not.

Eventually, she felt the wet nose poking her hand, hot air blowing over her exposed skin as he sniffed her. When she made no attempt to move, he started to sniff her jacket before backing off slightly, repulsed by the stench of walker blood on her. She knew then that she'd have to clean her clothes again. Slowly, she turned her head to look out of the shed, watching Dylan in the distance as she sighed again, muttering to Sam in a calming tone. "I dunno what I'm gonna do with him, Sam. After all that sh*t last week, how can I trust him not to do something like that again?"

He sat down next to her, panting away as she just looked at him, humming under her breath as she continued. "I've been trying so hard to keep everyone alive, but… how can I do that when he doesn't want to survive? Do I just let him go? Is that really the kindest thing I can do for my lil' brother?"

No response came from the dog. No bark or whine, rather he just sat there and watched her closely. She wasn't sure if he was actually listening to her or if he was just thinking about when his next meal would be. Her head moved backwards, leaning against the rotting wood as she finally confessed. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Suddenly, Sam moved closer to her, nudging her hand with his nose as she just watched in confusion. With some violent jerks of his head, he managed to get the hand up his face and onto his head, leaving it there as he panted slowly. With an eyebrow raised, she gently rubbed her fingers through his dirty fur, cautious in case he took offense to that like he did with Dylan beforehand. However, Sam made no attempt to growl at her or bite the hand that was stroking him, rather enjoying the attention with squinted eyes and his tail gently wagging from side to side. While she gave him the attention he wanted, she whispered to him. "You ain't feral, are you? You're just scared… I get that way sometimes too."

Sam licked his lips at that, his long tongue then hanging out of his mouth again before they heard something break, like a twig that was stepped on. With his mouth clamping shut, he sprinted out of the shed and started barking, Charlotte barely able to react as she clamboured to her feet, pulling her crossbow off her back while following after her companion. The barks echoed in the air, clearly going to attract walkers if she didn't get rid of whatever it was that spooked the dog. As she stumbled around the corner, she realised that it was no other than Omid and Mason, standing there while Sam continued to bark at them. Quickly, she moved between them and Sam, trying to calm the dog down with soft words. "Easy there, boy. They're friends. They're friendly."

"Yeah, erm… nice dog. Quick question, Charlie, and please tell me if it's just the exhaustion playing on my mind again, but when did we get a dog?" Omid asked, staring down at the growling animal as he quickly added. "He seems a bit pissed."

"Clem and I came across him while we were out hunting. He's not completely feral. I think he's just a bit scared." She explained, nervous as Sam, realising that the threat wasn't actually a threat, stopped barking and rather just watched from his spot, sitting down with his eyes staring straight at the newcomers. Mason smiled at the thought of having a dog again, though he was too afraid to approach him after the barking and snapping.

"He looks really skinny. You didn't find anyone out there who he'd belong to?" Omid carried on asking, looking over the visible bones sticking out from underneath Sam's sandy brown fur, a long black stripe running down his spine. With a saddened frown, she shook her head in response, causing Omid's face to fall slightly as he tried to add in an optimistic tone. "Hey, at least he's got us now, huh? He got a name?"

With Sam by her side, she watched as he started to scratch behind his ear with his hind leg, his body contorted in weird positions to get the itch that was bothering him. "Sam."

"He's cute. Where's he gonna sleep?" Mason piped up, staring at Charlotte with big, bright eyes. With a flick of her head towards the shed, the other two survivors looked over to it, with Mason frowning somewhat at the state of Sam's new home. "Really? It's a bit cold in there."

"It's only temporarily, but he's still a bit aggressive to people. I don't want him in the cabin where he could bite someone. If he behaves, he'll eventually be allowed inside." She explained, earning an understanding nod from her younger brother. With a smile, she ruffled the top of his head and added. "He'll be fine."

"Well, I guess you're prepared for the bad news, then." Omid interjected, lifting the fish box he was carrying when Charlotte turned her attention to him. Staring down at it, she listened as he sighed in disappointment. "Went to the river today. No fish."

"sh*t… Nothing?" She asked, earning a shake of the head from both of them. Crossing her arms, she thought for a moment before hearing Dylan grunt in the distance, turning her head to see him having already skinned the animal, the pelt hung up on one of the lower hanging branches while he had multiple strips of meat on his jacket, having left it on the ground to stop it from getting dirty. "At least Clem and I were more successful. We found a young buck in the forest. He wasn't very big, but it should be enough meat to last us a few days if we're careful."

"We can head out to the fish traps tomorrow, see if we have any luck then." Omid offered, moving past Charlotte and that as he quickly added. "I'm gonna go and check up on Christa and Clementine. I wouldn't stay out here past nightfall."

Chuckling softly, she waited until Omid reached the stairs to the front porch before turning to Mason. Standing there, she noticed him staring straight at Dylan, watching his twin brother with worried eyes before he asked softly. "How's he been?"

"He doesn't wanna talk about last week. He says he's fine now, that I should stop babysitting him, but I dunno… We just have to help him through whatever's going on in that head of his." She confessed, though tried to keep things positive when she noticed Mason's face dropping. With a short nod, she ruffled his hair once again and instructed him. "Now, do me a favour and go and grab a bowl from inside for me. I'll give Sam his dinner and then settle him down for the night."

"Alright, Charlie." He obeyed, jogging towards the front door and leaving his sister to her own devices. With the shed patched up as best as she could for the night, she decided to take a rest and moved towards the steps of the cabin. Sam followed after her, sitting down next to her as she sat down on the second step, her legs bent and her arms resting on her thighs. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, she exhaled, watching her warm breath mist up in front of her face. Her hand moved slowly to Sam's head, rubbing the top of his head gently, massaging between the ears.

He enjoyed that contact, his pointed up early moving slightly as he constantly listened out for anything that could be dangerous, still unsure whether the cabin was safe or not. She didn't blame him. Living out in the forest alone, starving and cold, she was surprised that he hadn't gone completely feral. His family must have been with him up until recently, given his friendly nature. While she thought about where they were, and if they missed their dog, or if they even still alive, she heard footsteps behind her. Turning her head slightly, she heard Mason's timid voice as he called out. "I found a food bowl in the cupboard. I guess the previous owners liked animals that they didn't wanna eat."

A shiny bowl was moved into her view. Staring down at it, she plucked it from Mason's hand and looked at her reflection in the mirror, noticing the blue eyes staring back at her. With something for Sam's dinner, she turned her upper body and smiled up at her brother. "Thanks, bud. Now go on inside, we should have dinner ready as soon as Dylan finishes up that carcass."

"Sure." He replied, walking back up the steps and into the cabin. With him gone, she stood up and walked over to Dylan and the deer carcass, watching as he finished up carving out all the meat that they could get from the kill, and glanced down at the organs and innards of the deer left in a pile. Grimacing at the sight, she noticed Sam having followed her when he noticed the food bowl, eyeing up the meat with a hunger in his eyes.

While she kept an eye on him, she heard Dylan sternly pipe up. "You want food for the dog, you can use the guts and organs I pulled out. The meat goes to us."

"You think he'll eat that? It looks… gross." She muttered, eyeing up the discarded bits and pieces with a scrunched up nose. Dylan shook his head, not even bothering to give her an answer as he pulled out his knife, moving towards the chain to let the bones and unwanted body parts fall to the ground. With an annoyed frown, she followed after him, reaching the knife first as she just stared down at Dylan. He returned the look with an angered glare, doing nothing as she pulled out the knife to use to cut up the organs for Sam.

As she walked away from him, she heard the teenager call after her in an annoyed tone. "You couldn't have used your machete for that?"

She wouldn't give him a response, knowing that he was in the mood where he was just looking for a fight. If she left him alone to calm down, she'd get a better chance to talk civilly later, or she at least hoped so. Anything could set him off nowadays. Still, she left him to get rid of the carcass in case the smell attracted walkers, and turned her attention to cutting up the organs she needed. There was more than enough to fill Sam's food bowl, and she felt bad for wasting the rest that she had left. With a squirrel and a weasel left to skin, she noticed Dylan coming back from the forest with the meat chain slung over his shoulder, his tank top clear to see without his thick winter jacket over him. He showed no discomfort with the cold, however, and just paused when he saw the leftovers Charlotte left from cutting up.

Taking the chain off his shoulder, he passed it back to her and muttered. "I noticed a tarp in the shed on one of the high up shelves. If you grab that for me, I can hang the organs up so that Sam has something for breakfast tomorrow."

"Alright, I'll get right on that." She agreed, taking the chains from him and standing up, both the chains and the dog bowl in hand. Sam's interest peaked at the sight of the food, the animal jumping around and whining as she started walking towards the shed, trotting after her and the food she had in her hand. Once they reached the shed, she left the chains hanging on one of the hooks on the tools bracket and set the bowl down on the ground. As soon as the metal bowl touched the floor, Sam shoved past her and started wolfing the food down, surprising Charlotte as she watched with concern. "Woah, you're really hungry."

While he carried on eating, she went about finding the tarp that Dylan mentioned. Looking around, she spotted a folded up sheet on the highest shelf in the shed, able to reach it easily due to her height. With it in her hands, she gave another glance at Sam before deciding to leave him alone, eager to get the tarp back to Dylan. So, she left the shed with the doors open, and jogged lightly back to her brother, who was leaning against the tree that he previously had the deer strung up on. When he noticed her approaching with the tarp he wanted, he smiled slightly and pushed himself off the bark, standing there as the older sibling closed the distance between them. Breathing heavier than usual, she passed him the sheet with a quick. "Here. This what you were talkin' about?"

"Perfect. Thanks." He replied gratefully, taking the tarp from her as he quickly added. "You can go and get Sam settled down. I can get the meat into the cabin myself."

"Alright… if you're sure?" She asked, earning a short nod from him before she conceded. Letting him go about what he was doing, she groaned as she turned back to go to the shed for the millionth time that night. She promised herself that it would be the last trip for the night, and decided to quickly check on Sam before locking up the shed. Hopefully, he should be fine until morning. When she reached the shed, she found Sam sitting by his bowl, waiting for more food to come to him.

"Sorry, lil' guy." She spoke up, moving to pick up the bowl while adding, noticing Sam stiffening up. "No more until tomorrow morning."

Lifting the bowl up, she added with a deep chuckle. "Liver again tomorrow. Lucky bo-"

She was cut off when Sam gave out a vicious snarl, lunging forward with his teeth bare and clamping down on her hand. A loud yell and curses were thrown as she instinctively pulled back, feeling the teeth tear further into her flesh. Her heart quickened, her breathing becoming heavy as her foot kicked out harshly, colliding with Sam and finally pushing him off. Releasing her hand, he backed off while she stood there, clutching her bleeding hand close to her chest. Her mind was racing, wondering what the hell triggered the dog to do that, and slowly her eyes fell to the food bowl that she had dropped when she was attacked, a few flecks of her own blood staining the steel. Quietly, she panted to herself and cursed. "f*ck… what the f*ck?"

"Charlie!" A voice called out from behind her, the sound of footsteps approaching quickly barely heard over her own breathing and fast heartbeat, blood pounding loud in her ears as it felt like her hand was on fire. The pain was spreading throughout the whole limb, it like wildfire spreading up her arm, and as she clutched the hand, she felt the warm blood drip down onto the ground. Dylan reached the door, staring at the scene with widened eyes, and she felt his hands grab her arm as he examined her hand. Seeing the torn flesh and the blood staining his own gloveless hands, he snapped at her. "He f*cking bit you!"

"It was my fault. He's clearly food aggressive, he didn't act like until I grabbed his bowl!" She shot back, unable to understand why she was defending the animal that tore her hand up to f*ck.

"Oh, and that excuses the fact that your hand is torn to shreds?!" He retorted, looking over her hand before shaking his head. "f*ck, Mason'll need to look at this. Stupid, f*cking animal!"

"Dylan, I brought him back. If there's anyone at fault, it's me." Charlotte explained, wincing as she tried to move her hand. Her words caused her younger brother to scowl deeply, his eyes flickering over to the dog as he sat there near his bed, Charlotte's own blood staining the dur around its muzzle. Staring at his face, she could see the thought running through his mind, and when he looked back at her, she just shook her head. It was her fault. She repeated that in her head, and finally he gave into her silent pleas before kicking the food bowl out of the shed.

"He can stay. No one is going near him, and he stays out here." He ordered, guiding Charlotte out of the shed before turning around. With her hand burning up in her other hand, she watched as he closed the shed doors and shoved a metal pole that was resting against it through the doors, keeping from being opened by the animal inside.

"If we leave him alone, he ain't gonna get better." She shot back, walking alongside Dylan as he scooped up the bowl from the ground, both of them making their way back to the cabin.

"He's lucky he isn't dead." He shot back, noticing her narrowed glare as he added in an angered tone. "Why are you looking at me like that? He's a wild animal, he just took a f*cking chunk of your hand!"

A deep groan came from within her throat, her temper fraying between trying to keep everything alright in the group and her hand causing her so much pain. "He isn't wild. If he was, he would have never come close to me or Clem. He just scared."

"We all scared!" She was stunned when Dylan finally snapped, stopping in front of her and glaring heavily. Standing there, in pain and worried, she too gave him a stern stare, but he didn't care. With his hands tightening into fists, he snarled at her through gritted teeth. "When are you gonna f*cking wake up and look around you? When are you gonna realise that this isn't like before? We ain't gonna be one big happy family with a home and a dog who curls up with us by the fire!"

"I f*cking know that! I know we ain't gonna be able to go back to how things where, but for God's sakes, Dylan, I'm trying! You ain't the one who's making sure we're all fed and safe, or that Clementine doesn't have to grow up wondering when her next meal is or if the walkers are gonna come and get her in the night!" Charlotte finally broke, letting out all her anger and exhaustion over everything that's happened. Her tone set him back, his eyes widening in shock as her words stunned him, and yet she couldn't even feel terrible anymore. She had enough. "I understand that things are really hard for you right now, Dylan, but have you any idea just how sh*tty it is for the rest of us? I am the only one left to look after you and your brother, I've lost my girlfriend, our parents, Elizabeth, and I'm stuck here trying to make the best out of the sh*t hand God dealt me!"

Taking in a deep breath, she felt a pange of guilt at Dylan's fallen face, and yet she knew that he'd feel bad about it and then go right back to butting heads with her. She took the chance to finally let him know what it was like to constantly fight with the people she loved. "I'm tired, Dylan. I am so f*cking tired of arguing. I'm tired of… everything. You're not the only one who's trying to stop those thoughts from eating away at you, and right now, I don't know if I can win the battle or not."

With that said, she brushed past him and walked up the steps leading to the front door. When she realised he wasn't making any attempt to follow after her, she just shook her head softly and opened the door, entering the cabin finally. The living room was bathed in a warm glow, the fire burning in the small stove and keeping the cold out of their home. With her hand close to her chest, likely staining the front of her jacket, she tried to sneak past the group that were moving towards the door, having heard everything outside. While she ran up the stairs, she ignored Clementine's voice as she called out. "Charlotte?"

She didn't stop. She couldn't stop, and only when she managed to reach the bathroom did she give herself a chance to breathe. The pain was immense, preventing her from thinking about anything other than the wound on her hand, and she could only pant quietly as she used her good hand to open the medicine cabinet above the sink. They had stocked up on medicine and medical supplies from their trips to Albemarle. Overlooking the stuff that they had, she grabbed all that she needed to treat her hand. Disinfectant, bandages, and a needle and thread to sew up the torn skin. With the supplies pressed against her chest, she closed the door with her arm and left the bathroom, trying to sh*t the door behind her before giving up entirely.

Her bedroom, having taken it after Dylan decided to bunk with Mason from then on, was empty and cold, the bed left unmade from the morning, yet she didn't care as she dumped the supplies on the top of the quilt. With her good hand, she pulled the quilt back until it was flat against the bed, sitting down on top of it as she finally moved her injured hand away from her chest. Staring down at it, she winced at the sight of the blood and muscles that were exposed, until she finally glanced over at the peroxide. With a deep breath, she prepared herself for what was coming. "This is gonna f*cking suck."

Slowly, she grabbed the bottle and looked over the label, reading out the hydrogen peroxide under her breath before unscrewing it with her teeth, spitting the lid out onto the quilt. With a soft whimper, she laid her hand on the bed and moved to tip some of the disinfectant onto the wounds. When the fluid finally made contact with her hand, she had to stop herself from pulling back instinctively, a sharp gasp escaping from her lips as she gritted her teeth together, trying to will the pain down as it felt like electricity was then being ran up and down her entire arm. She couldn't even move her thumb in pain. Inhaling and exhaling, she tried to control herself, staring at the bottle in her hand as she cursed. "Holy f*ck, that was painful."

While looking for the cap, she shoved the bottle between her crossed legs and used the free hand to pick it up from the spot where she spat it out, screwing it back on top of the bottle to stop her from losing any of the precious liquid by accident. Without saying a word, she placed the bottle on her bedside table, staring at it for a few moments before her eyes moved over to the needle and thread that she left on top of the bandages. She really didn't want to go through with it, having been lucky enough to escape having stitches for the gash on her cheek, but her hand was torn to ribbons thanks to Sam, and she just sighed in frustration. Suddenly, she heard her door open and snapped her head towards the person who opened it, noticing that it was Christa. Standing in the doorway, the newcomer stared down at Charlotte's hand with a deep frown, shaking her head as she finally spoke up.

"Dylan told us what happened." She confessed, walking towards Charlotte while adding. "For the record, I think he's right. The dog can't stay here if he's already bitten one of us."

"Thanks for your opinion, but I disagree. Did he tell you that it was my fault that I got bit?" She pointed out, earning no response from Christa as she just stood there, crossing her arms over her chest while watching the other grown woman with disappointment. Growling under her breath, Charlotte grabbed the needle and tried to thread it, finding it difficult when one of her hands was pretty much useless. Seeing her struggling, Christa sat down on the bed in front of her and took the needle, threading it with more ease and offered her hand for Charlotte's. She hesitated, unsure whether she wanted Christa to do it for her, but she realised that it would be easier than doing it herself and finally gave up her hand.

Examining it, she listened as Christa mumbled. "He got you good. You said it was your fault, how so?"

"Sam isn't feral. He's just protective over his food. After surviving out there for God knows how long, I don't blame him." She explained, earning a raised eyebrow from the black woman as she just shook her head. "Look, what do you want me to say? I don't know why I'm trying to save him. Maybe Dylan's right, and Sam's too dangerous to have around, but I…"

She paused. Christa took notice to that, pausing in her attempt to sew up the torn flesh, the needle hovering over Charlotte's hand as she waited for an answer. Finally, she looked at the open window, watching the pitch black skies outside while she confessed. "I just want to save one person. Even if he's just a dog, he's still a life, he still had a family out there. I don't want to just give up when it gets hard."

"Not sure how much harder it can get, considering you're here with a busted up hand." Christa retorted sarcastically, looking up at Charlotte as she added softly. "This is gonna hurt. Be ready."

Nodding while breathing in deeply, she prepared herself for the needle piercing through the flesh of her hand. Her eyebrows furrowed down, her jaw clenching and gritting her teeth together in agony, but she managed to keep herself from wrenching her hand away, and so sat there watching as Christa carried on stitching up her hand. While she worked away, Charlotte took the time to keep talking about the subject at hand. "Look, Christa, all I want is a chance. I know that if I work at it, I can help Sam. He can stay in the shed, and you guys don't ahve to go near him if you don't want to. Just… don't send him away. He won't survive out there."

"I know. Before we met you guys, Omid and I were barely scraping by out there. It was getting cold. We were running out of food, water… I'm glad you let us stay here." She revealed, carrying on with the stitching as she added in a sterner tone. "I want you to promise me something. You won't let Clementine go near that dog. I mean it. Otherwise, we're taking him into that forest and he can go and find himself another family to put up with that bullsh*t."

Nodding in response, she winced as the needle was pulled out, the thread moving with it as the skin and muscles were pulled closer together. "Yeah. Alright, I promise."

"Fine, then." Christa responded, watching her work carefully while her hands kept moving the needle in and out of the skin of Charlotte's hand. It was painful, extremely so, but when she noticed that Christa was almost done with it, she bit the bullet and held out for just a little while longer. The two of them sat in silence until the stitching was done, her hand already feeling better than before, the burning having died down somewhat to just an awful stinging. Overlooking her fellow survivor's work, she was silent when she noticed Christa holding the roll of bandages, waiting for her to give back her hand. Watching as she wrapped up the injured hand, she listened as Christa muttered softly. "I hope you know what you're doing. For all our sakes."

With the hand bandaged, Charlotte just sat there while Christa stood up again, moving towards the door while the former looked over the bandages wrapped around her hand. She did an alright job. From beside her, she overheard Christa call out to her. "You should come downstairs. We got something."

That peaked her interest. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she moved to follow after Christa, the two exiting Charlotte's room before closing the door behind them. From over the bannister, she could hear joyful laughing and Omid's voice talking quietly, likely telling them a joke or something funny considering there was a chorus of laughter after he finished his sentence. The whole atmosphere was warm, homely, and it brought a smile to Charlotte's lips as she walked down the stairs behind Christa, peering over the side to see the others having grouped around in the living room. Mason and Clementine were sitting on the floor, enjoying what was revealed to be the Christmas presents that she and Dylan scavenged a week back. The youngest of the group was busy scribbling away, drawing something that she didn't want the others to see until it was done, while Mason was busy examining his new camera.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed Omid gesturing her to come over to the couch, a grin on his face as he gleefully explained. "Sorry we didn't wait for you, but it's near enough Christmas so we thought, might as well open the presents now."

Beside him, she noticed a thick book resting on the couch cushion, standing beside him as she asked. "What's that?"

"Oh, Dylan got this for me. It's mostly about the Civil War and that. It's pretty awesome, huh?" He grinned, his hand resting on the top of the book cover. When he finally noticed her bandaged hand, however, his grin faded away and he pointed it out in a worried tone. "Holy sh*t, what happened to your hand?"

Mason and Clementine stopped adoring over their gifts, turning their heads to Charlotte as she just brushed off their concerned looks. Sitting down, she noticed Dylan refusing to look at her, deciding against pushing the clear problem he had and instead explaining in a calm manner, uneager to set the kids off about the danger. "It's nothing. I went near Sam's bowl and he snapped at me. I had to have stitches, but I'm fine now. Honestly."

"Did it hurt?" Clementine asked, sitting up from her spot where she was drawing away, leaving her crayons alone while she just stared at the bandaged limb with widened eyes. "I thought he wasn't mean."

"He's not, darling, but Christa and I agreed that it's best for the group if we just take it slow with him. For now, he stays out in the shed, and you three aren't allowed near him until he's better behaved, okay?" She explained, earning a gentle nod from Clementine. Mason, however, moved closer to his sibling and picked up her hand, pausing when he noticed that she winced with the movement. Trying to keep the mood light, she just moved her hand away and ruffled his hair. "I'm fine, buddy. Come on, let's see what everyone else got."

When she looked over at the coffee table, she noticed the comic books that she grabbed for Dylan laying there, one of them on the teenager's lap as he just flicked through the pages, ignoring everyone as they just went about celebrating the holiday. While distracted by him, she didn't realise a heavy album being dropped in her lap, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she slowly opened it. The pages were blank. While she closed the album again and appreciated the feel of hard leather under her fingertips, she listened as Mason explained. "You were pretty bummed when we had to leave the family photos back home, so I found this while rummaging around the cabin. This can be the first picture you put in."

He pulled out a photo from his back pocket, passing it to Charlotte with a soft smile. Taking it, she stared down at it and immediately recognized it, her lungs stilling as it felt suddenly impossible to breathe. It was a photo from her graduation. The whole family was there, including her grandparents and all her aunts and uncles. In the middle was Charlotte, Elizabeth standing next to her with an arm around her younger sister's shoulders, and the both of the surrounded by friends and family. Her fingers ghosted over Elizabeth's face, and Mason added quietly. "I grabbed it before we left. It's the only one we have left of everyone."

"It's… Thank you, Mason." She replied gratefully, pulling her brother into a tight hug. Feeling his face pressed into her shoulder, she buried her own into his neck, her eyes squinted as she felt hot tears threatening to fall down, before she managed to wipe them away by shoving her face further into his jacket. Voice muffled, she mumbled to him with a heavy heart. "Merry Christmas, buddy."

His hands dug into her own jacket, his voice soft in her ear as he replied. "Yeah… Merry Christmas, Charlie."

Chapter 8: Dangers From Within

Light had left the skies once more and nightfall had set in. The dark blues offset by the twinkling white stars in the distance, the moon itself a crescent shape bathing the forest floor in a glow. Charlotte took to the front of the group, leading them back through the forest towards the river where the fish traps were left. They had made it out of Albemarle in one piece, the gunshot having attracted the walkers back while they were escaping, but they were already too far away for the undead to notice them. With the temperature dropping again, they hurried along the path quickly to get back home, uneager to be caught in the snow once again. The wind picked up, chilling the tired survivors to the bone and causing goosebumps to form over Charlotte's skin, her arms wrapped around herself in a bid to maintain her warmth. Omid and Dylan kept close to each other behind her, the teenage boy shoving his hands in his zipped up jacket to keep them warm.

He said nothing. After Charlotte had calmed him down back in the supermarket and they escaped, he'd been quiet all the walk home. It was worrying for his older sister, unsure what to say or what to do to help him out of that depressive state. Peeking over her shoulder at him, she stared at his pale face, frowning deeply at his downcast eyes watching his feet rather than the road ahead. Quietly, she sighed to herself and just kept walking, unsure on what to do to help Dylan at that moment. Maybe he just needed time to think through what happened. All that she was certain was that, if he wanted it, she would be there for him as long as she could. That was all she could ever be certain of anymore.

"I've been meaning to talk to you." Omid suddenly piped up, appearing by Charlotte's side with a worried look, one that she mirrored almost perfectly as she nodded for him to keep talking. With a soft sigh, he quietly continued. "About back in Albemarle."

"You mean with the woman." She clarified, watching the path they were travelling down with narrowed eyes. She felt pity for the woman, she really did, but even Charlotte couldn't stop that pange of hatred yet guilt from hitting her heart whenever she was reminded of what she had done.

Nodding to that, he looked away from the female survivor and muttered. "You tried to help her, but then you decided to just pull the trigger."

"Don't you f*cking dare." Charlotte warned in a low growl, her head snapping at Omid with her glare intensifying. "She threatened Dylan's life, or did you already forget about that? I killed her. There's no beating around the bush, but if I didn't, she wouldn't have hesitating in shooting my little brother, and who's to say she'll stop there? How could you know she wouldn't turn on us next?"

"I'm not blaming you, Charlotte. I get it. The situation was f*cked up and someone's life was endangered, I'd have protected Christa or Clementine if the situation was like that, but it doesn't mean I'm used to seeing a life being extinguished like that." Omid explained, his eyes shifting to the side as he briefly glanced at Dylan. The teenager paid no attention to their conversation, and so he carried on. "Did you ever have to do something like that before? Take a life, I mean..."

Charlotte thought on the question, her face defrosting from her cold anger to a moment of complacency. Her voice, barely a whisper to be heard over the howling winds, muttered back to him. "Haven't we all?"

"Yeah, I guess we have." He agreed, his hand tapping against the butt of his rifle as he pondered something. Charlotte kept silent, unwilling to keep talking about the situation that happened before. It was done, it happened. However, Omid didn't leave the conversation at that as he revealed. "Clementine had to kill him, you know?"

Confused, she turned her head back to him and kept quiet while he elaborated. "Not only Lee. When he was bit and couldn't keep going, she had to put him down, but he wasn't the first life she took. When we found her, she told us he died, but the man that took her? She was scared."

"What happened?" She questioned, her heart clenching when she suspected how the story would go.

Omid kept looking forward, his boots crunching against the fallen leaves and the exposed gravel on the path. His finger had stopped tapping against the rifle, rather pressed against it, with his lips pulled into a thin line on his face. Walking in silence, it was a few tense seconds before he finally mumbled the conclusion of the tale. "Clementine shot him."

"Holy sh*t." She gasped quietly, staring at the grown man in shock as he just kept quiet. Slowly, she too looked ahead with thoughts running through her head, the surprise causing her to think about exactly what that young girl had to do to survive. What she saw while with Omid and Christa, and even beforehand, it made her worry deeply over the mental state that Clementine had. She didn't seem like your typical kid, and yet that was to be expected with it being months into the plague already.

It made her think about what Dylan and Mason would have had to do if she wasn't there watching their backs. In order to survive, they would have had to do some pretty f*cked up sh*t as well. If she was being honest with herself, for once, that thought scared her deep to the core. As long as she was there, she hoped that she could protect her brothers from that kind of thing, as well as Clementine, for as long as her group decided to stick around with the small family. However, the wind picked up with harsh gales forcing her mind to focus on her surroundings, her teeth chattering together as she lifted up the hood of her jacket and the bandana around her face. Dylan took that cue to lift his own hood up, both of them trying to keep warm while hurrying back to the cabin. Back to the others.

"This is just gonna get worse, you know?" She pointed out to Omid, waiting for him to glance over at her before continuing. "I mean, the cabin is good for some time, but eventually we're gonna have to move on. The towns around us are gonna run outta food, and with the baby coming, we're gonna need better protection."

"We're pretty isolated in the forest. It would take some luck for someone to come across it." He countered, trying to keep optimistic about their situation while Charlotte just frowned, her lips hidden behind the worn fabric wrapped around her face. "If the fish traps work out, we won't have to worry that much about food. It could be a nice set up."

For a moment, she was silent, until she finally conceded to Omid. "I suppose you're right. I'm just not used to staying in one place for long."

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir. We hadn't settled down anywhere until we found the cabin." He confessed, smiling at Charlotte before they both fell silent. Over the wind bellowing in her ears, she couldn't hear much else, and rather she spotted the trees thinning out as they approached the river where they had set the traps up.

Slowly, they moved out of the protection of the trees and looked around for any danger. Charlotte's shoulders were hunched, her fingers ghosting over the pistol that she kept in her pocket, one of them pausing when she found the trigger before she retracted them again. When there was no sign of walkers around the area, the group settled somewhat, keeping an eye out for anything while they approached the fish traps. Pausing in front of one, she listened as rustling could be heard behind her, remaining kneeled in front of the fish trap as Omid finally piped up with a joyed tone. "Hey, I found this back in the supermarket. Thought we could use it to put the fish in."

Turning her head, she noticed a small fish box that the other survivor had pulled out of his rucksack held in front of her, quickly taking it from him as she flipped open the lid. When she peered inside, it was small enough that he was able to fit it into his backpack, and so would not be able to hold that many fish, but it was better than nothing. Maybe when she went on another scavenging trip, she'd try to find one that was bigger to leave in the cabin. "This'll do."

So, with the fish box on the ground, she lifted the fish trap out of the water and placed it down next to the box, unable to hide her disappointment with how few fish were caught. Pointing at the other trap, she ordered Dylan in a quiet voice. "Check the other trap, Dylan."

Silently, he obeyed her order and shuffled over to the second fish trap that they left in the river, pulling it out of the water before he opened the hatch and peered in. Annoyance was clear in his voice, Charlotte glancing over to see him frowning at the trap, before he met her gaze and grumbled. "Not that many fish in here."

"Maybe we'll get more when the fish move upstream?" Omid wondered, causing the siblings to look back at him in confusion. Shrugging, he carried on with his explanation. "Like, when the salmon come up the river and you always see the bears eating them? None of you guys watched it on the TV before?"

"That's in the fall. We could be waiting a whole year before the fish pick up." Charlotte sighed, starting to pack up the few small fish into the box while Dylan grabbed the two that was in his trap. There may have been more fish than people in their group, but they were pitifully small, and she didn't know if they would travel up the river with the walkers coming out of the cities and disturbing the wild. If push came to shove, she could go out and hunt for any deer or something, remembering some tips that her dad gave her when he took her out during hunting season. It was times like that one where she wished she had listened.

"Maybe we can find more fish traps and set them further down the river." Dylan suggested, pointing down the river with a thoughtful look as he asked the others. "Dad said that fish are more likely to bite if we have bait. Throw some worms in there, and we should get more fish."

"It's too dark to go looking for worms now, but we can come back tomorrow and bait the traps." Charlotte compromised, closing the trap lid as she lowered it into the river again. Dylan copied her actions, closing the trap and lowering it into the river before approaching with the fish he took out, tossing them into the fish box and watching as his sister closed the lid, picking up the box and weighing it slightly before she turned to the others. "Come on, the others will probably be wondering where we've gone."

Box in hand, the group set off back to the cabin quickly, desperate to get out of the cold and to enjoy some dinner before resting. Omid took the front, keeping an eye on their surroundings with his rifle clutched tightly in his hands, his back to the siblings as Charlotte glanced down at Dylan. He didn't meet her gaze. Rather, he pulled out his knife and kept walking, ready to react if any danger came across their path. Her gaze switched from the teenage boy to Omid, before going back to Dylan again and pausing. She didn't know what to say, but she decided to bite the bullet and took in a deep breath, her voice a quiet whisper as she finally called out to him. "Hey, bud?"

He finally looked up at her, silent until she took the cue to keep talking. Sighing, she carried on in her low tone. "I know things have been pretty sh*tty today, and you have every right to feel the way you do, but just know that I'm here for you, okay?"

"I appreciate the concern, Charlie, I really do but…" he paused, his eyes falling to the ground as he finished with a tired hint in his voice. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine, really."

His words brushing off her concern did little to calm Charlotte's nerves, and she was unable to let the situation go as she continued to prod. "Dylan-"

"I said I'm fine, okay?!" He snapped harshly, his voice echoing through the trees as the group stopped and froze in place. Listening out, she heard no sounds that would come from walkers, or other survivors running after the source of the sound, and after a few tense and silent seconds, she looked back down at Dylan with a hurt expression on her face. The teen stood there, his anger slowly melting away again as he just sighed and walked past her, his shoulder brushing against her as all Charlotte could do was watch him leave. Omid had to move to avoid being bumped into by the teenage boy, and watching his back as he carried on down the path, the older man then slowly turned to glance over at Charlotte, offering her a saddened smile that she couldn't bring herself to return.

The weren't given the luxury of the silence for long. Somewhere in front of them, the two adults could hear the low growls of walkers, and with the knife clutched tightly in her hand, Charlotte followed after Dylan to make sure he was alright. Her heart started to beat faster, the thundering blood in her ears as she found her brother not that far from them, already in a tense position as a walker had stumbled out of the forest. With his knife, he kicked the walker in the shin and jumped to the side as it tumbled down, before stabbing it in the neck. With a grunt, he pulled the knife out and grimaced at the stench of the rotting flesh, unable to react when another walker appeared behind him and grabbed hold of his jacket.

A yell of surprise came from the boy before he pulled forward, managing to escape its grip before the walker latched onto his arm with its withered hands. Dylan struggled to free himself, and Charlotte found herself dropping the box and moving without any hesitation, her hand hooking under the walker's chin as she stabbed it viciously into its eye. The fluid dripped out, mixed with the discoloured blood, and she sighed in relief when the jaws stopped gnashing at her and its hands lost their grip on Dylan's jacket. Pulling himself free, he watched as Charlotte released her grip on the walker's throat and allowed it to drop to the floor dead, breathing heavily as he finally gasped out. "Thanks."

"We're a team, Dylan. You don't have to do anything alone." She comforted, placing her hand on his shoulder as she smiled. "Not while I'm here."

He thought for a second, his lips pulled in a deep frown as he just nodded softly. Behind them, she heard a dull thud before turning her head quickly, unsure what had happened until she saw Omid standing before another walker, the front of its head caved in from the forceful blow with the butt of his rifle. Lowering the gun, he walked over to the others and wondered. "Seems like they're moving out of Charlotte now. Looking for food, I would guess."

"There doesn't seem to be anymore around. We should hurry back to the cabin and bunker down for the night. It ain't safe wondering around here in the dark." She warned, picking the abandoned fish box before pushing Dylan to move on, keeping the teen in front of her while Omid kept to her side. The trio ran through the forest, their shoes crunching against the old fallen leaves and the snow that had remained from the previous night. Soon enough, more snow started to fall from the sky, soft and pure white as they floated softly to the ground. Her breath misted in front of her face, what little was able to move past the old bandana covering her mouth and nose.

The fabric did little to keep the frost at bay. Luckily, the group were not that far from the cabin as a lone light could be seen in the pitch darkness. Charlotte paused at the outskirts of the opening, watching the cabin before she heard more walkers nearby, surprised to see the undead moving so far away from the cities. Dylan, having not noticed his sister's pause once they reached the opening within the forest, kept walking towards the cabin, his feet starting to drag as exhaustion became apparent in the younger survivor. Omid stopped in his tracks as well, staring at Charlotte as her head turned towards the direction where she could hear the walkers, until she glanced back at the grown man and muttered. "They're close by, can't you hear them?"

"The light in the cabin is drawing them like a beacon." He muttered, walking with Charlotte beside him. "We'll blow out the candles when we get in."

"You and Dylan take the stuff, I'll thin the numbers around the cabin. That way, we ain't gonna have to deal with the f*ckers outside our door." She offered, passing the fish box to Omid as he shot her a look of disbelief, unsure exactly why she would want to go back out there with the walkers. However, she didn't give him much to argue about as she practically forced the box in his hands, nodding silently before she left his side to go hunting. Behind her, she heard as Omid's footsteps became quieter and quieter, leaving to go into the cabin with Dylan and bring their catch of the day to the other hungry survivors in their group.

Knife tight in her hand, she didn't have to search long to find a lone walker stumbling around, as if disorientated and unsure where to go to find its next meal. Crouching low, she watched the corpse pause for a minute, a low groan coming from it as its head turned in her direction, its face nearly covered in pitch black darkness. Holding her breath, she continued to watch as the walker turned away from her before she dared to make her approach, trying to keep as silent as she could. Her breath fogged in front of her face, eyes trained on the walker as she straightened up right behind it, and before the undead could react, she plunged the blade deep into the back of its head. The heavy thud of the body collapsing to the ground echoed for a moment, and all fell silent again as she pulled the knife from her kill.

Groaning with disgust as blood splattered out with the removal of the knife, she backed away from the dead walker with her hand in front of her nose, a soft mutter coming from the grown woman. "Ugh… God."

There was no time for a break, however, as she came to realise that the walker was not alone. Slowly, another one had started dragging itself across the frozen ground, the snow that had fallen balling underneath its decayed hands as Charlotte sighed to herself. There, she noticed another walker stumbling out of the forest, its eyes focusing on her as loud growls of hunger came from its exposed mouth. Quickly, she approached the crippled walker and stabbed it in the top of its head, watching as its hand, reached out to attempt to grab her, fell to the ground with a silent thud. Turning her head, she backed off as the walker tried to lunge for her, causing the walking corpse to stumble slightly and try to regain its footing. Seeing an opportunity, she kicked the walker violently in the side of its leg, her stomach churning at the sound of bone braking under the force.

Without the support of its leg, the walker tumbled over to the ground and laid there stunned. Breathing heavily, she approached the walker and, ignoring its vicious growls as its hands latched onto her sleeve, she used her weight to keep her arm from getting bit with the walker's gnashing teeth. With a grunt, she threw the knife downwards and winced when blood splattered upwards onto her bandana, staining the worn fabric as the knife pierced the front of the walker's head, its jaws ceasing any movement and its hands finally releasing the tired survivor from its grip. Wrenching herself from it, she stared down at the corpse while panting, the cold air feeling like thousands of tiny daggers cutting up her throat, before she turned around and noticed that the group had blown out the candles around the house, the light diminished significantly from behind the frosted windows.

With the walkers around having been diminished, she wiped the blade of her knife on her jeans while walking back to the cabin, staring down at the cleaned blade as her hand twisted it around, before she just shoved it in her pocket once she reached the stairs leading up to the front door. The old wood creaked terribly under her weight, yet she ignored it as she quickly made it up and approached the front door, desperate to get out of the cold as her hand turned the knob slowly. The inside of the cabin wasn't much warmer, but it was a welcome refuge from the howling wind outside. Slowly, she pulled down the bandana around her face and lowered her hood, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face as she heard soft whispers in the living room.

Peeking around, she noticed Omid and Christa talking in the corner of the room while Dylan went through the stuff that they scavenged that day, rotating a can of beans in his hand as he examined the half worn label on it. Mason and Clementine were fast asleep on the couch, the taller teen stretched from one end to the other while his arm was draped around the tiny child, her baseball cap hiding her eyes as she slept peacefully. A smile crept on Charlotte's face as she walked further into the living room, watching her brother sleep while Christa explained in a soft tone. "They tried to stay awake until you guys came back, but they were just too tired."

"Poor guys." She sighed, sitting down on the couch arm as her fingers brushed some of the dark locks from in front of Mason's eyes gently. "Everything been alright while we've been gone?"

"Mason's been a good kid. Doesn't really talk that much, though." Christa revealed, staring at the boy's face while Charlotte hummed in response. Watching as his chest moved up and down softly with every breath he took, she listened as the pregnant woman in front of her continued on to question her. "He told me about your parents… back in Texas. I'm sorry about what happened to them."

A short laugh came from Charlotte, confusing the others as she quickly stopped herself. Her hand moved away from Mason's forehead, rather propping underneath her chin as she shook her head slowly, a deep sigh replacing the laugh as she revealed. "You know, you're probably the first person that Mason told about our folks. He and Mama… they were close."

"How did they die?" Christa wondered, hesitation clear in the way she asked as she tried to avoid hurting the other woman. Charlotte paused, her fingers tapping against her cheek as her eyes were highlighted by the fire dimly, the low flames the only source of light within the room. The sound of Dylan ruffling through his backpack ceased, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him watch his older sister with a downcast gaze and a deep frown on his face. She shared his look, feeling the sting of the missing people in her heart as she finally plucked the courage to confess.

"Mama was bit, when this all happened. No one knew what to do, the phone wasn't working, so my dad, he… took my motorbike. Told us to keep Mama calm until he got back with help." She paused, closing her eyes momentarily as she could recall the words echoing in her mind. The deep drawl of her father, thick with that accent, ordering Elizabeth and her to remain with their brothers and mother, to keep the peace until he got back. Quietly, she finished her story. "He never did."

"Oh, sh*t. Did your mom…?" Omid trailed off, clearly curious about the tale and yet forcing himself to hold his tongue in case the story was too much for Charlotte to recount.

"She died." She replied suddenly, surprising the others with how quick she brushed off the questions. Her heart constricted painfully with the thought of what happened, but she wasn't in the mood to drag the conversation out longer than it had to. Omid and Christa knew anyway, that was all that needed to be said. Dylan didn't react well to her tone, however, throwing the supplies back in his back before standing up, a scowl on his face as he stormed out of the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. His footsteps echoed all over the cabin, and when a loud slam of the door caused the group to flinch, silence took over the space once more. Charlotte sighed under her breath, her hand moving over her eyes as she felt a headache slowly form behind her eyes.

The loud slam woke Mason up, his eyes snapping shut as his body jolted upright on instinct, accidentally waking Clementine up as well as the young child gripped onto the teen's jacket. Bright blue eyes glanced around, and when he saw that the group was around him and that no danger was there, his body loosened up and he sighed in relief, propping his head on the arm of the couch as he stared up at his sister. Charlotte said nothing, instead her slender fingers moved through his thick mop of hair affectionately while she looked up at the other adults in the room. Clementine, still exhausted from her trip and lack of sleep, fell asleep once more while Mason moved his arm, leaving his hand on her back and keeping her close. Closing his eyes, he mumbled to Charlotte. "How long have you guys been back?"

"Just got in. Dylan's gone to bed." She explained, slowly standing up from her spot as she picked up the bag that Dylan was going through. "I'll put the supplies away."

"Here, I'll help you." Christa offered, grabbing Omid's bag and the original backpack that they brought to the cabin. Charlotte didn't reject any help, rather silently leading Christa to the kitchen with her brother's backpack in hand. The kitchen was a pretty good size given how small the cabin itself was; a table with chairs propped underneath sitting in the middle of the room, unlit candles sitting on the table and dotted around on the counters. The door quietly shut behind the two women as they stopped near the cupboards. Dropping the bag at her feet, she opened the doors up while Christa stopped by her side, lifting the bags up onto the counter and opening them up.

Silently, they started packing away all the supplies that they found. The noodles, cans of beans or soup, and the bottles of water that Charlotte and Dylan found in the supermarket. Occasionally, Charlotte would glance over at Christa, before turning away as soon as the other woman turned her head to look at her. She didn't know what to say. The silence turned awkward, and soon enough, she piped up in an attempt to break the ice between them. "Omid told me that you guys had a cat?"

A short laugh came from Christa, her hands paused in putting away the supplies as she just looked down at a bottle of water. "Out of all the things that happened to us, and he told you about that cat? He hated me, you know?"

"Don't all cats hate people?" Charlotte shot back in an amused tone, earning another quiet chuckle from Christa as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe, but that cat loved Omid. Every time he came into the room, that cat would be following after him. Whenever I tried to pet it, it turned into the cat from hell." She explained, glancing over at Charlotte as the latter gave her a surprised look. "Don't worry, he never did anything too damaging to me. Just a few scratches at the worst of times."

A low chuckle came from Charlotte in response, her hands pausing as her smile faded somewhat and her eyes fell downwards to the can that her fingers tapped against. Slowly, she pushed away the thoughts of the past and just kept packing her stuff away, listening as Christa continued to question her about her previous life before the plague. "Mason told me that you guys lived on a farm before all this. I always liked the countryside, more than the cities anyway. Omid would have loved to live on a farm."

"It stunk and was loud, but it was home." Charlotte reminisced, the smile returning to her lips as she laughed quietly. "I was hardly there when I got older. Went off to university in Houston, and then was planning to get an apartment in the city. Dylan wouldn't talk to me for weeks when he found out."

"What were you studying?" Christa asked, curious about the university that the other woman mentioned.

She put away the last can of soup with a thoughtful look, glancing over the supplies that they had gathered before closing the doors and turning her attention back to Christa, watching as she closed the backpack and tossed it over by the table. Crossing her arms, she revealed with a soft, genuine smile. "Law. I actually got my undergraduate degree just before the plague."

"That must have been tough to get." Christa started, rubbing her back with a look of discomfort flashing over her face. Worry gnawed at Charlotte's insides as she approached the other survivor, watching as the pain faded away and she just brushed off the silent concern that Charlotte had for her. "I'm fine. Just back pains."

"You know how far along you are?" The Texan asked suddenly, unable to stop her eyes from glancing down at the small bump forming in Christa's stomach. She didn't respond to that. The worry from before grew into a ball that tore up her gut, the thought of dealing with the birth and a newborn infant in that f*cked up world, all of it suddenly crashed down, and she realised it then. It was all real.

f*ck.

"Little over three months, I think. I don't know anymore." She confessed, her voice quiet and almost vulnerable. The tone, so different from the cold words she received when they first met, and the stern orders as she likely had been before the meeting the previous night, it was a surprise. However, as quickly as it showed, Christa pushed that fear and concern away as her face hardened, and she turned to exit the kitchen as she muttered to herself. "We'll be okay."

Left standing there in the dark room, Charlotte sighed to herself as she ran her fingers through her knotted hair. Her ponytail had came loose, allowing the strands to fall onto her shoulders, her hair a thick forest on her head that she played with as she pulled her backpack off her shoulders, throwing it onto the kitchen table before quickly following after the pregnant woman. Once she entered the living room, she saw that Mason had awaken from his nap and sat upright, his back pressed against the arm of the couch while Clementine continued to sleep on his waist, her head pressed up against his abdomen while he laid his hand on the top of her baseball cap. The heartwarming scene brought a smile to his older sister's face. Quietly, she crept over to the younger survivors and muttered to Mason. "Here, I'll take her to bed. You go upstairs to bed too."

"What's up with Dylan?" He suddenly asked, catching Charlotte off guard as he added while looking at the staircase. "I heard him storm upstairs before. Was he pissed off again?"

"Look, just go upstairs and I'll be with you in a minute, okay?" She ordered, picking Clementine up into her arms while Mason just frowned at her. However, he didn't argue with her or disobey her orders, rather standing up from the couch and stretching his sore muscles while the eldest of the siblings walked over to the room that Omid and Christa had taken for themselves. Pushing the door open with her side, she kept Clementine close to her chest as the cold from inside the room hit her full force. Her skin covered in goosebumps, even underneath her clothes, a shiver running down her spine, yet she brushed off the effects and entered the room.

Softly, she crept over to the bed and moved the duvet over, placing the small girl onto the old mattress while trying her best not to disturb her. Clementine actually looked peaceful, her chest raising up and down slowly with each breath she took, the sight warming to Charlotte's heart as she carefully removed her shoes. Laying them back on the bed, she reached over and grabbed the duvet to pull it over the tiny body, but stilled when she heard soft whimpers coming from Clem. Glancing down, she listened as Clementine cried out quietly. "Lee… please. Don't become one of them."

Charlotte held her breath at the mention of Lee. Silently, she carried on listening as Clementine whimpered again, calling out for people she didn't even know. "My parents… it's so awful."

"Oh, sh*t." She mumbled to herself, before sitting by Clem's side and removing the baseball cap, rather placing it on the bedside table and then combing her fingers through the tangles of hair on the child's head. Quietly, she hushed to Clementine in a tender voice. "Shhh, it's okay. It's just a bad dream."

Her words had some effect on the younger survivor. Clem's mutters quietening down as her face turned more peaceful, her hands gripping onto the duvet loosening as Charlotte managed to put them under the quilt to keep her warm. With the child bundled up, she moved her hands away and just sat there, watching as Clem slept with a neutral expression on her face. Slowly, she turned to peek at the pictures on the wall opposite the bed. One of them, a beautifully painted duck, hung there slightly askew, and softly, she moved off the bed and approached the pictures as quietly as she could. Fixing it, she smiled at the pretty picture until she heard a door opening beside her.

Glancing over, she saw that it was Omid coming into the room. The shorter man stood there, looking at Charlotte before he turned to look at the sleeping Clementine in her bed. Without making a sound, he approached the bed and sat down where Charlotte just was, watching Clem sleep before he whispered to the grown woman. "I'm heading off to bed. Mason's gone upstairs if you wanna go and talk to him."

"Sure. Night, Omid." She agreed, making her way over to the open door and leaving the room. Closing the door behind her, she glanced over at Christa and noticed her just sitting on the couch, watching the fire as it continued to burn through the logs fed to it, heat being thrown out into the open room and the flames highlighting her face. She looked exhausted, bags clear under her face and dirt caked onto patches of her dark skin. God knows how long it was since any of them were able to have a bath.

She looked like she needed some time to herself, and Charlotte gave her that as she instead moved towards the stairs. The creak echoed through the silence as she stepped on the first one, a curse muttered under her breath, but she kept climbing up the stairs regardless. Some were terribly noisy, others weren't so bad, and when she reached the top of the stairs, she was engulfed in darkness. Muttering more curses, she rummaged through her jean pocket and pulled out her lighter, flicking the top open as she rolled the stone under her thumb. The flame sparked to life, the small light given from it allowing her to move through the dark hallway towards the boys' room.

Opening the door slowly, she peeked inside, noticing that Mason had a campside lamp on his bedside table, the light from it brightening up the room. Sighing, she looked over at the windows and saw that he had pulled the thick drapes over, blocking any of the light from shining through the window. Quietly, she heard Mason pipe up from his bed, glancing up from his book. "I already pulled the drapes over. No one's gonna see the light."

"Alright, but I want the light out in an hour, okay?" She compromised, approaching the bed as her younger brother nodded eagerly, a smile on his face as he watched his sister sit on the bed by his feet. "What's that there you're reading?"

Looking over the book at the cover, he mused for a moment before revealing. "It's a book about transdimensional body snatchers. Sam gave it to me after she came back from a scavenging trip one day."

"I remember her mentioning something like that." Charlotte revealed, staring at the pale blue cover and the words engraved into the hard surface. Chuckling to herself, she glanced up at Mason's confused expression and explained to him. "I was on that trip with her. It was this shopping mall just outside Austin, and we were caught up the walkers. While I'm trying to grab as much food and medicine that I can, she's grabbing the book and wouldn't even tell me what it was for. It was so stupid, but I couldn't really stay mad at her. She… had that effect on people."

Mason couldn't stop that guilty look from flashing in his eyes. She didn't point it out, rather just sat there as her younger brother turned to Dylan, the other teenager sleeping in the same bed with his back to the others, having been silent the whole time Charlotte was in there. Slowly, he looked back at his sister and muttered. "He didn't want to sleep alone tonight. What happened out there? I mean, he was fine when he left and now he's just… scared."

"We met someone. Out in the town Omid mentioned, I mean. She wasn't in a good place." She started, shaking her head with a dark look on her face that made Mason gulp visibly, slowly closing his book and placing it on his lap while she continued. "She lost her family. Escaped from this place, but she wouldn't say where it was or what happened to her group. In the end, she had a gun to Dylan's head, and I had to shoot her to protect him."

"Holy sh*t." Mason swore, his head turning to look at Dylan's back again as he added in a low tone. "Did… you have to shoot her? I get that you do these things to protect us, but I just… I don't like killing people."

"I know, and it's good that you feel that way, Mason. Killing people changes you and not for the better. But sometimes, to protect the people you love, there's no other way around it. I wish I could tell you different, but that's just what this sh*t world has dealt us." She sighed, placing her hand on his own with a comforting smile. He tried to return it, yet it fell short as he just stared down at her hand. "You gotta protect yourself and your family. That's all that matters anymore. I want to say that people aren't gonna die, but you already know that's bullsh*t. Samantha, Aaron, Liz, Mama and Dad… They died, and we're still alive. We owe it to them to keep surviving, because they gave their lives for us to keep going."

"I know. I just wish they were still here with us." Mason replied tearfully, wiping his eyes with his sleeve before lying down in his bed, turning his back to Charlotte as he quickly mumbled. "I'm tired. I'm gonna try and catch some sleep."

"Alright, bud. Goodnight." He didn't respond to that. Slowly, she stood back up and leaned over to the light on the table, turning it off and quickly plunging the room into darkness. Unable to see right in front of her, she flicked open her lighter once more and used the flame to guide herself out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her before pausing. Leaning against the wooden frame, she tapped the back of her head on it and muttered under her breath. "sh*t…"

It was late. Exhaustion racked at her body, her eyes struggling to stay open, and so she decided that she might as well get some sleep in the other room. Her footsteps echoed into the darkness, the sounds of the wind blowing viciously outside clear even within the cabin. At the very least, she was grateful not to be caught up in that storm again. The cabin itself was a Godsend. Reaching the door leading into the other bedroom, she glanced at the mechanical fish hanging on the door and smirked at it, amused with the choice of decoration as she entered the room. Inside, she approached the windows and closed them, before turning to the bed propped up against the wall. The mattress sank under her weight as she sat on top of the duvet, her hands pulling the boots off her sore feet and massaging the tender flesh through her socks, a sigh of relief coming from her lips as she just threw herself onto the bed.

Staring up at the ceiling, she tossed the lighter onto the tableside as best she could, hearing it tumble to the floor before cursing to herself, deciding that grabbing it would be a chore for tomorrow Charlotte. The room was just as cold as the others, the window vibrating with the wind beating against it outside, the sound echoing through the room and was generally annoying for Charlotte to listen to. With a grunt, she rolled until she was on her stomach before pushing herself up, pulling the duvet back just enough for her to slip underneath. The pillow was somewhat soft, a welcoming change to the sleeping bags from before, or even the couch from last night, and she snuggled into it while pulling the duvet around her slim frame. Her body heat radiated from her, warming up the small pocket of air within the duvet, and soon enough, she found that her body was starting to get warmer, only her face exposed to the cold air within the room.

Closing her eyes, she found that sleep was quick to come to her that night. However, screams echoed in her head, voices that were so familiar and yet others that were complete strangers to her. She couldn't find the bodies that the voices belonged too, unable to find her family or her group, rather just left abandoned by everyone. Alone. Her breathing quickened, her legs aching as she ran through the forest, trying to escape the horde of walkers that were descending on her, calls for help and cries of panic going ignored as no one came to her aid. That woman, Hilda, her own shrill screams made her ears hurt, her words digging into her mind. The group she ran away from, the community, she didn't know who they were. Where they were. If they were going to be a problem for her family, she did not know, but her family was not there.

She didn't know where they went.

A walker grabbed her. She tried so desperately to get away, kicking it in the face to make it let go before scampering away, just in time to avoid being caught by the others that stumbled towards her. There was nowhere to escape, until she found a lodge up on the hill. Quickly, she ran up, her hands dirty and sore as she finally managed to reach the top. The walkers were having a harder time. Without giving them a chance to catch up, she ran towards the boarded up windows and banged on them loudly, calling out for help. No one came. Desperate, hungry, scared. There was nowhere for her to hide. Turning around, she saw the walkers approaching her, mouths open and growls of hunger loud in her ears. She barely escaped an attempt from one of them to grab her, running over to a tall tower overlooking the valley.

Her feet pushed her up the ladder, kicking about to find a grip, and she grunted in exertion as she continued to climb. Out of the walker's reach. Once she reached the top, she was taken aback with the beauty of the forests all around her, the sound of the wind blowing in her face and the growls of the walkers quieting down until she was the only one there. Sitting down, her back pressed against the cold metal of the safety bar, she rested her head against it and took a moment to catch her breath. Until she felt a pain in her hand. Glancing down, she couldn't stop a gasp of horror when she saw those telltale bite marks around her thumb. With a shaky breath, she held her hand close to her and knew that it was the end.

She would wait for it. Alone and on top of a tower with walkers all around her, there was no happy ending to that tale. So, she closed her eyes, and waited.

Jolting upright with a gasp, Charlotte leaned over her bed and tried to calm her breathing down, feeling her chest ache and her heart race so fast that the blood was loud in her ears. Pressing a hand to her chest to calm herself down, she quickly scrambled for her lighter, feeling around in the pitch black until she felt the cool metal of her lighter and plucked it from the floor. Lighting it up, she sat upright in her bed and looked down at her hand, checking it over for anything. There was no bites there, or on her other hand. Sighing in relief, she released her thumb on the lighter, extinguishing the flame and sitting in darkness. Her breathing slowed down eventually, her heart beating at a calmer pace, but she couldn't shake off the uneasiness from her dream as she placed her face in her hand, resting her forehead between her thumb and index finger.

"f*ck." She swore to herself. Sitting there in the dark, she glanced over at the drapes covering the window and decided to get up, throwing the duvet off her body before shivering at the cold seeping into her, even while she was wearing her jacket and socks. A yawn escaped her throat as she slipped her shoes on, not bothering with the laces and instead approaching the covered windows. Peeking outside, she saw that it was still pitch black out there, the night sky covered in dark clouds that rolled along, hiding the stars and moon beside the wispy smoke.

Allowing the drape to fall back into place again, she stifled another yawn while walking over to the door of her bedroom. The creaking of the door when she opened it was louder without any background noise within the cabin. Striking her lighter again, she used the light to guide her towards the stairs, slowly descending while trying to not make any noise that would wake up the other people in her group. Over the bannister, she saw that Christa had already retired to her bedroom, the fireplace put out with nothing in the open space, not even embers. Once she reached the bottom, she decided to light the fire up again and snuck over to the bag of firewood that they left by the place. The diminished amount of tinder left caused her to frown deeply, and she grumbled while throwing some of the tinder in the fireplace.

"Gonna have to go out tomorrow and chop some." With a piece of paper in her hand, she used the flame from her lighter to burn it before placing it in the midst of tinder, poking the logs around while the fire took a while to heat up. Eventually, the flames grew larger and she felt her body bathed in the heat, shuffling up until her back was pressed against the couch. Her arms wrapped around her legs, she remained like that with her chin resting on top of her knees, staring at the fire while listening as the flames ate through the fuel given, the crackling the only sound she could hear besides the wind howling just outside her window.

She would try to get some more sleep, but that nightmare echoed in the back of her mind and she instinctively rubbed the skin around her thumb, just making sure that she was in fact not bitten. With the fire burning beside her, and the snow storm raging on outside, she curled in on herself and just rested her forehead against her knees, trying to catch some sleep when she heard a door opening off to the side of the room. Slowly, she raised her head again and looked over in the direction of the noise, noticing someone moving around in the dark. Her hand ghosted over to the gun that was left on the coffee table, but when she saw the person coming out of the shadows, her hand stilled before she pulled it away again, letting it rest on her knee on top of the other hand.

Quietly, she called out to the familiar person with a smile. "What are you doing up at this time, darling?"

"I… I couldn't sleep." Clementine confessed, moving towards the grown woman and the fire as she asked. "Is it alright if I stay on the couch?"

"Sure. Come and park yourself over here." Charlotte nodded, turning her body around to face Clementine as the latter walked over to the couch, climbing on top of it while the other survivor asked in a gentle tone. "Can't sleep too, huh?"

She didn't reply, rather just nodding her answer and lying down on the couch. Her hat wasn't there, exposing her curled dark brown hair and cute pigtails, the purple hair bands standing out amongst the dark strands of hair. Leaning her head against the arm of the couch, she stared at Clem with half closed eyes, before she finally decided to break some of the ice with the child. "I like your hair bands."

"Thanks." Clementine replied quietly, her hand moving to mess with one of the pigtails as she slowly sat up again. With her legs crossed underneath her, she sat with her back against the other arm of the couch, staring down at Charlotte with the fire highlighting her amber eyes. "My friend Lilly gave them to me."

"They're cute. I have a few hair bands left if they ever break." She offered, pulling out one of her own with a smile. Clementine returned the smile softly, her face brightening up as she took one of the hair bands that the older survivor offered to her. Looking down at the dull coloured object, she listened as Charlotte continued with a grumpy look on her face. "They ain't as brightly coloured as yours, but they get the job done."

"I like them. I like your jacket, too. Blue's pretty." She revealed, looking down at Charlotte's zipped jacket as the other glanced at it. The blood stains from the walkers the previous day still stained, leaving patches all over her precious possession, and when she looked over at Clementine's hoodie, she saw faded stains similar to her own smeared all over the fabric.

"I got it from my, erm… my girlfriend." She revealed, watching as Clementine raised an eyebrow and then appear thoughtful, knowing that there was no one else in Charlotte's group that could've been her girlfriend. When her brain made the connection, the young girl's face fell and she listened quietly as Charlotte nodded in response to the change of expression. "She didn't make it."

"So, it's like a mom and dad, but two moms instead?" She asked, earning a small laugh from Charlotte before she just nodded in response. "Okay. I get that."

Charlotte just hummed at that, before turning around and pressing her back against the couch once more, leaning her head against it while finally closing her eyes. She didn't know what to say next, not without the curiosity of how someone as young as Clementine could've made it that far into the apocalypse, and she didn't want to bring up any painful memories that could make it harder for Clem to actually talk to her. While she sat there, she listened as Clementine piped up in a curious tone. "Mason said you lived on a farm? Did you guys have cows?"

"Yeah, and this huge bull with massive horns!" She recalled, using her hands to measure the size of the bull's horns from her head, earning a giggle from Clementine as she continued her story, turning her head to face the child. "We had a lot of animals. Chickens, pigs, I even had a horse."

"Was she pretty?" Clem asked, intrigued when the horse was mentioned as she shuffled closer to Charlotte, trying to keep herself warm by the fire. Charlotte noticed that small movement, and gestured for the kid to come over to her. Eyebrows raised in surprise, she did what she was told and shuffled off the couch, slowly making her way to Charlotte before the latter grabbed her arm gently, guiding her into her lap and wrapping her long arms around Clementine's small frame. It was similar to what she did with Dylan and Mason when they were smaller.

Resting her chin on top of Clem's head, feeling the bushy strands of hair tickling her sensitive skin, she quietly rocked the child while carrying on with the story. "Yeah. She was a beautiful painted horse, with chestnut splotches all over her body."

Clementine glanced up at her with a confused look. "Chestnut?"

"It's basically brown." She replied, feeling Clem's head move as she looked down again. After a few seconds of silence, nothing but the crackling of the fire beside them, she yawned softly and continued, feeling the smaller body on her relaxing as she leaned further back, allowing Clementine to rest her head on her chest while she whispered. "The farm was beautiful in the summer. With the trees moving in the breeze, and when you wake up, the first thing you saw out of your window was the city in the distance. I lived there all my life."

"Do you ever wish you could go back?" Clementine wondered, shuffling around in Charlotte's arms until her legs was over Charlotte's, the child's head propped up against her shoulder as her eyes started to droop. Charlotte kept quiet for a moment, contemplating her question, before just leaning her cheek against Clem's forehead, listening to her slow breathing.

"All the time." She confessed, inhaling deeply while she just sat there, her voice soft as she tried to remain positive. "Maybe we can go back one day. You can see the farm, and we can find more animals and just live there."

"Can I pet the cow when we get a new one?" Clementine asked, tiredness clear in her voice as she fully closed her eyes. Charlotte nodded, and settled down in her spot with the child slowly falling asleep in her arms, a smile on her youthful face at the thought of going back on a farm and just being a kid. However, Charlotte's own smile didn't last long. Staring into the fire as it continued to burn through the logs, slowly and slowly burning itself out, she didn't make any attempt to feed more fuel to keep it going, and instead carefully grabbed the blanket that was left on the coffee table nearby.

Trying her best not to disturb Clementine, she pulled the worn fabric off the table and carefully threw it over herself and the child, covering them both as best she could. Wrapped up, she shuffled about to make herself more comfortable on the floor, and leaned her head against the arm of the couch once again, closing her eyes while the pressure on her shoulder from Clem's head remained there. With her last nightmare plaguing her, she found it difficult to go into that deep sleep once more, and just sat there with her eyes shut until she finally managed to get some sleep. Floating around in the darkness, she was grateful for the lack of dreams in it, yet somewhat hopeful that she could just go back to the past, to be with her family and just pretend for those few hours that everything was alright.

Reminiscing about her farm with Clementine, she realised just how deeply her longing to return to it was. The thought of going back, to see her childhood home and try to rebuilt the life that she had lost, it was just childish want. It wasn't possible anymore. She would keep the idea just for hope for Clementine, anything that allows her to believe in something more than just surviving. Maybe, one day, the group could go back to Texas and just live out as long as they could. The cabin itself was a good place as any to live, especially with the river nearby and the towns that could be scavenged, but it would get more cramped with the baby coming, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that their good luck was going to run out at some time. By the time that she had finally opened her eyes again, she had to squint when the sunlight from outside shone down on her face.

Her neck was stiff, her body aching from the comfortable floor, and her arm was dead from underneath Clementine's weight. Gently, she managed to free her arm from the child and just stared down at her face. She looked so peaceful. She almost felt bad disturbing her, until she heard moving about in the kitchen, along with hushed whispers. Narrowing her eyes, she tightened her grip on Clementine and tensed up when the door opened, before realising that it was only Omid and Christa coming in, the latter holding a plate with what smelt like fish on it. Raising an eyebrow, she listened as Christa explained while putting the plate on the table. "We didn't want to disturb you guys, so we just went to cooking up breakfast. The fish traps are a good idea, but you're gonna have to check them daily if we want to get enough food to last through the winter."

"We thought we'd offer to go to the river today, just to bait the traps and see if we caught lucky." Omid added, pulling the rifle strap over his body while Charlotte watched him. "Afterwards, we could check around and see if there's other towns that we can scavenge."

"That'd be great. I'll stay here and mind the kids." Charlotte offered, turning her head to Christa as the latter nodded in response. Gently, she stirred Clementine from her slumber for breakfast, eager to have something to eat after eating out of cans for who knows how long. Amber eyes fluttered open, blinking to get rid of some of the sleep as the young girl yawned, rubbing her eyes while Charlotte muttered. "Hey, breakfast's ready. Come on."

Lowering her hands, she glanced over at the fish on the table and smiled brightly, obviously happy with the sight of proper food as Charlotte could barely react before Clementine was off her lap and at the table, chowing down on one of the fish while the grown woman pulled the blanket off herself. Folding it up haphazardly, she tossed it onto the couch and shuffled over to the table to finally enjoy her breakfast. Picking up the cooked fish, she glanced at its unblinking eye and grimace, before just digging into the crispy flesh. Even without any seasoning, it was delicious. From beside her, she heard Christa explain to them. "We're gonna head out now while there's still light. We should be back before nightfall."

"Alright, be careful." She replied, watching as the couple made their way towards the front door, Omid raising his hand in a farewell wave before he followed after Christa. The door closed softly, and sitting there with the fish in her hands, Charlotte stared at the front porch with a worried frown on her face, before she carried on tucking into her fish. Clementine had finished already, placing the carcass back on the plate before she stood up and wiped her hands on her skirt.

"Wow, you guys sure demolished that." A new voice called out, the two survivors glancing in the direction of the source. Leaning against the doorframe, Mason stood there with a grin on his face while Charlotte carried on chewing into her fish, tearing some of the flesh from its bones while watching her younger brother approach them. Picking up the plate, he grimaced at the unblinking eye staring at him and grumbled. "I hate fish eyes. They're so creepy."

"Here, be a good brother and get rid of this." Charlotte joked, tossing her finished fish carcass onto the plate while Mason frowned, narrowing his eyes at her before he just smirked, chuckling while the older woman stood up and wiped her hands down on her jacket. She'd have to wash it sometime soon, especially with the ripe smell starting to become overwhelming once again. Following after him with Clementine by her side, the three entered the kitchen with Charlotte moving towards the back door.

Peeking through the window, she spotted Dylan sitting on a tree stump not far from the cabin, his back to her as he hunched over something. Worry built up in her stomach as it twisted painfully, her finding it hard to swallow and instead turned her head to Mason, watching as he threw the rubbish into a plastic bag before throwing the dishes into the sink. There was no running water to wash them with, so he'd have to wait until Christa and Omid came back with water. With Clementine mooching around the kitchen for something to do, Charlotte quietly asked Mason while gesturing to Dylan outside with her thumb. "What's going on with him, Mason? Everytime I try and talk to him, he just shuts me out."

"He won't talk to me either. After everything we tell each other, it's like that's what he wants to keep to himself." He explained, joining his sister's side as the both of them watched through the window. "He said nothing when we woke up this morning. Just ate his breakfast and went outside, brushed me off when I asked where he was going. He was… cold about it."

"He's having a hard time, but that doesn't mean we're having a picnic right now. We need him… and that means we have to help him out of this state he's got himself in." She sighed in frustration, grabbing the door handle as she turned around to Clementine, noticing that she was hovering around the backpack that had the presents in for Christmas. With a strict tone, she scolded her. "Darling, don't go near that. Stay outta my stuff, please?"

"Okay…" She mumbled, moving away from the bag with a sulk as Mason approached her.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he offered the child a smile and suggested to her. "Hey, how about we go in the living room. I found a chess board that we can play. Come on, I can teach you."

Nodding with a smile, she turned and ran back into the living room with Mason following after her. However, he paused at the door for a moment and glanced over his shoulder, sharing a concerned frown with Charlotte as she just silently urged him to go with Clementine. Sighing, he did what she told him to do, closing the kitchen door behind him. Left alone, Charlotte inhaled deeply and prepared herself for the confrontation as she turned back towards the door, grabbing hold of the door knob as she glanced through the window at her brother. Opening it slowly, she slipped through and closed it behind her, keeping eye contact on Dylan's back as she walked through the grass towards him. Her footsteps were loud and clearly alerted the teenager to her presence, his head turning slightly as she decided to call out to him. "What you doing at here, bud?"

"Just needed some time alone." He replied harshly, glancing down at the object in his hand. Approaching him from behind, she peeked over his shoulder and saw that the object in his hand was his pistol, his finger tapping against the cool metal away from the trigger. Frowning deeply at him, she crossed her arms in annoyance as he mockingly joked. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna shoot myself in the head. I actually wanna live. I mean, ain't that why you shot that woman? To make sure I lived?"

"Are you blaming me here or yourself?" She shot back, glaring at him as Dylan turned his head to her, a scowl clear on his face that she matched in ferocity. She wouldn't back down to him. Slowly, he turned back around and just stared off into the trees, listening as Charlotte continued to try to get through to him. "What's going on, Dylan? You're turning on me, you're turning on your brother! Every time we try to help, you just shut us out and deal with it on your own!"

"Why don't you just f*ck off?" He growled, jumping to his feet as he confronted his older sister. "Why do you keep getting on my f*cking back?! Did you ever stop to think that maybe I just need time to figure out what the f*ck we're doing here?! I mean, look around you!"

He paused, turning around and walking closer to the forest as he started to let his temper go. "Everything is f*cked! We're in the middle of the forest, hundreds of miles from home, with people that I care about having to go out and risk their lives just so we can f*cking eat! Our parents are dead, Elizabeth is dead, even Samantha, who I tried so hard to help, is dead, and you're not the only one dealing with this bullsh*t!"

Charlotte was taken aback. Standing there with a look of shock on her face, she was unable to say anything as Dylan threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with all the things that they had seen and done. Quickly, he turned his upper body towards her and snapped. "So maybe I am dealing with this the wrong way, but it's the only way I got! I… I don't know what to do."

The last sentence was uttered in a more saddened tone, the anger and pain and confusion fading away in his face as he just looked away to the side. Charlotte stood there with widened eyes, unsure what exactly to say to what he just confessed to her. Quietly, she just muttered to him. "I didn't know you felt that way, bud."

"What happened back in town yesterday. It got me thinking… why do we bother with this?" He asked, gesturing towards the cabin with his empty hand. "What's the f*cking point? We're just gonna march from here when it eventually goes to sh*t, like it always does. More people are gonna die, and then eventually we're the ones who die. I don't even know how or when, whether it's by a f*cking walker or by another person."

Suddenly, he pulled the gun and pressed it against his head, stunning Charlotte as she quickly raised her hands, her voice shaking as she tried to calm him down. "Come on now, buddy. That's not the way."

"You know, when she had that gun against my head… that was the closest to death I ever felt. Even when we were walking through the snow and the cold for weeks, even when I crashed the car and you had to carry me away from the wreckage." He stopped in his rant, his voice quiet and eerily calm as Charlotte tried to approach him, desperate to get him away from the gun. "You don't blame me for that. Hell, neither does Mason, but I blame myself. All I ever do is f*ck up and make all the wrong choices, and you have to come to save my ass. When will that end? When I'm f*cking dead or get everyone killed?"

"Dylan, just give me the gun." Charlotte demanded, continuing to approach him as he made no effort to stop her. Standing there, his eyes moved as he thought about what he was doing, and slowly, he removed the gun from his head and passed it over to his sister, the older sibling snatching it from him before shoving it in her jacket pocket. Both stood there in silence, Dylan making no attempt to look her in the eyes, and so she took that opportunity to finally speak.

"We are gonna die one day. Everyone does, Dylan, but it's what we do while we're alive is all that matters. In there is a scared little girl who's lost everyone and a teenage boy who doesn't know what's going on with probably his only friend left." She explained, staring down at Dylan before quickly pulling him into a tight hug. Shoving her face into his bushy hair, she sniffed loudly as tears blurred her vision. "I know you miss everyone. I do, too. We owe it to them to keep each other safe and alive. That's all that matters. Be mad at me, blame me for everything, I don't care. All I want is to keep you and the others safe for as long as I can."

"I'm so sorry." Dylan sobbed, burying his face into her jacket as his hands gripped it tightly, keeping her close to him as they continued to embrace each other. Listening to his shaky breath, she turned her head and saw that the door was open, Mason standing there with Clementine by his side, the both of them watching the scene with saddened expressions on their face, before the child glanced up at her friend. Saying nothing, she watched as he just closed his eyes for a moment and then go back inside, guiding Clementine in as the latter glanced one more time before the door closed.

With her brother crying in her arms, she recalled over everything he said and felt that grief bubble up. She would try to keep them alive, protect them from the walkers and any other survivor that would want to harm the group, but she didn't know how to protect them from the dangers inside themselves.

Chapter 7: Ghost Town

Omid may had been a bit generous on how quickly the group could walk to the town opposite the bridge. By the time they had reached the town, the sun had already reached the centre of the deep blue sky, the sunlight beaming down warming up Charlotte's shoulders and melting more of the fallen snow away. The tarmac path under the snow was exposed, the boots of the survivors walking along quieter than the crunching of feet in the snow was. The winter breeze was still frosty, causing goosebumps to form along Charlotte's exposed skin as she rubbed her hands together, trying to keep the digits warm while staring at Dylan's gloved hands with jealousy. The teen was none the wiser, instead glancing around the long road leading into town with his pistol clenched tightly, his finger kept away from the trigger until he saw something he didn't like.

Omid kept to his side, holding his rifle lazily while strolling down the road. Over his shoulder, Charlotte could see the town in the distance, and yet no sign of any undead wandering the streets. All the way there, save for the few they encountered by the river, the group hadn't been attacked by walkers or scavengers alike, but Charlotte knew better than to get complacent. She'd have to keep her wits about her until they returned to the cabin. From in front of her, she listened as Omid finally piped up in a joking tone. "Well, here we are. Albemarle. Took a bit longer than expected but at least we're here in one piece."

"It looks like a ghost town." Dylan pointed out, staring at the distant town with narrowed eyes before he turned his head back to Charlotte, sharing a nervous look with her as he confessed his uncertainty about the place. "We haven't seen many walkers so far. I don't like it. Shouldn't they have come out of the cities by now?"

"I have to agree with ya, there, buddy." Charlotte replied, sighing deeply as she moved to his side and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. Staring up at her, his worry faded away slightly as she smiled down at him, returning that smile with his own as she quietly ordered him in a gentle tone. "Stay close to me. We don't know if the walkers are gone or just hiding somewhere."

"I'll take lead. You guys are capable of watching my back, yeah?" Omid chuckled, starting to walk down the road towards the town centre. Charlotte and Dylan shared a sly smirk between them, the younger of the two following after Omid while his sister continued walking at a leisurely pace. The winds made the trees lining the road sway, the bare branches that stretched out moving at the mercy of the breeze while all its leaves had fallen onto the soaking floor, crunching under the survivors' shoes as they continued down the road. Having pulled her knife out to defend herself in case walkers made a sudden appearance, she twirled it in her hand and stared down at the blade, flecks of blood that she hadn't gone to wiping off staining the steel.

Tired, blue eyes stared back at her, the woman surprised with just how tired she looked in her reflection. Bags under her eyes had darkened over the weeks that she had left her previous group, the lack of sleep not helping matters as her brain continued to work even under the strain, unable to stop to rest in fear that walkers, or worse other survivors, would come across her family and harm them. She could feel that exhaustion slowing her down. Legs ached from the journey over multiple states to reach North Carolina, Charlotte still not recovered fully from the strain that it took on her body, but she kept her ills to herself as she noticed Dylan chatting away happily with Omid. He looked happy. For now, she'd keep that happiness in her brother alive and make sure he didn't worry about her. She was meant to worry about him, that was her job, but she couldn't help but feel that she needed someone to tell her to slow down.

After everything that happened, she could barely recognise the Charlotte before all this happened. The Charlotte that left her family to go and follow her own path, who didn't want to remain on a farm or become just someone's wife left to stew in a house with kids running around everywhere. She loved her mother, she knew that she wouldn't be who she was that day without her mother raising her right, but that life wasn't for Charlotte. Looking back as she walked towards the dead town, she would do things differently. She wouldn't want to leave her family's side again. If only she had a chance to go back to when everything was normal.

In front of her, she heard as Dylan continued talking with Omid. "I went to San Francisco on a school trip once."

"Oh? That's awesome, what'd you think of it?" He questioned, pleased that the teenager had been to the city where he lived before the plague. Dylan shrugged at that, prompting the older man to continue with his questions. "Well, it's a pretty cool city, huh? It has some cool beaches and the Golden Gate Bridge, you gotta have crossed that to get into the city."

"It was pretty boring." Dylan revealed, staring up at Omid as the latter glanced back down at him, looking between the nonchalant twin and his giggling sister laughing away behind them. Charlotte felt bad for laughing at the sudden confession, stifling her chuckles with her rolled up fist while Omid continued to act flabbergasted with Dylan. The youngest of the group just shrugged again, continuing on with a small smirk on his face. "I liked the bridge, but one of the boys in my class got travel sick bad. The trip got a lot less cool real quick."

"Gross." Charlotte piped up from behind, earning a wider grin from Dylan as he glanced over his shoulder at her. Omid shared her sediment, grimacing at the thought of the scene that the teenager was describing to him while staring off ahead, leaving Dylan and Charlotte chuckling to each other quietly. She didn't even remember Dylan going on that trip, or anyone ever mentioning it to her before that moment, and she couldn't help that twinge of guilt in her stomach at the thought of how much time she missed with her siblings in the later years when she left to go and do what she wanted. There was likely more stories like that one where she was never told. At least she had them now, and she would make sure to be there for her brothers for as long as she could.

The town started coming closer and closer, yet there was still no sign of any life within, living or undead. Charlotte paused, staring at the long road ahead with a deep frown while the other two kept on walking. As they got closer, the winds had died down, the birds roosting up in the trees had all but abandoned the area around, and an eerie silence hung over the town like a thick blanket. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her grip on the handle of her knife tightening as she carried on following after the others. There, she noticed Dylan glancing off to the right, raising an eyebrow in confusion until she followed his gaze and realised exactly what he saw, the sight causing her to sigh as he stopped in his tracks. Omid noticed his disappearance immediately and stopped too, looking over his shoulder while Charlotte reached her brother's side and placed a hand on his shoulder again. It was a graveyard to the side, the tombstones dirtied and grass overgrown from the months of abandonment and the world going to sh*t.

"You think the dead there have come back?" Dylan suddenly asked, glancing up at the older woman with a saddened frown before adding softly. "Do you think Grandpa is one of those things? Just… stuck in the coffin, left to rot?"

"I honestly don't know, but it won't be him. No matter what happened, he's at peace. He didn't have to see what the world has come to…" She comforted him, staring at the abandoned gravestones with her weak smile finally falling. Dylan couldn't even bring himself to return that smile, just staring ahead with a blank expression on his face, clearly pushing his true feelings below the surface once more. Slowly, he carried on walking in silence, brushing off Charlotte's hand as she just let it fall to her side once more. He passed Omid, who just watched him carry on while Charlotte followed after him, turning his attention back to the older sibling while offering her a saddened smile.

"Hey, is he doing alright?" He asked, showing concern for the poor teenager. She didn't answer, rather looking down the road as Dylan just kept walking, his back to them as the adults carried on walking side by side. Omid glanced at the graveyard one more time, while Charlotte just kept her eyes straight until she heard him carry on beside her. "He seems pretty alright, but I dunno. It's only gonna be a matter of time before he can't handle it anymore."

"He's trying to be tough… like his dad. But you're right, Dylan's a pretty emotional kid, sorta wears his heart on his sleeve type. I'm just keeping an eye on him and trying to help out when I can." She explained, turning her head at Omid while he nodded in agreement. Glancing away again, she kept the car crash that happened weeks ago to herself, unsure if Dylan would appreciate her telling Omid about how he lost control of the car. It wasn't his fault, but if Dylan was anything, he was a serious martyr type.

"Your other brother is a cute kid." Omid piped up again, staring at Charlotte as she allowed a small smile to appear on her face again at the mention of her brother. "I think he's warmed up to Clem. Those two could become good friends."

"It'll be nice for Mason to have friends besides me. Sometimes I feel like I don't really understand them, being teenage boys. Maybe it's the hormones? I dunno." She confessed, earning a chuckle from Omid as she asked amusingly. "What?"

"That's just it. They're teenage boys! Soon they see a pretty girl, their brain melts down. It's a scientific fact." He joked, adding in a more genuine tone as he comforted the grown woman. "You've kept them alive this far. I think you're doing what's best for them, that's all that matters."

"I don't even think Mason is interested in all that stuff. He mainly focused on school work, ready to get into medical school when he was older." She reminisced, staring at Dylan's back as he continued to walk in front of them. "Between you and me, Dylan once brought a girl he liked home to show Elizabeth's horse. Won three dressage competitions before he threw Elizabeth off and broke her collarbone and arm."

"Holy sh*t." Omid gasped, eager to learn what had happened as Charlotte recalled that hospital visit. "What happened?"

She crossed her arms with a wide grin on her face, her voice quietened with amusem*nt clear in her words. "Well, Elizabeth retired him after that. Dylan brought his classmate to the stables where we kept him, Annabelle, I think her name was-"

"It was Abigail." Dylan interrupted, still looking at the approaching town without once turning around to face his sibling and Omid. Charlotte raised an eyebrow at that, sure it was Annabelle, but went with what her brother told her as she turned back to resume the story with Omid.

"Anyway, he wanted to impress her and jumped up onto Champion's back to show her how good he was at riding. Didn't even make it to the field before a snake slithered past and spooked the horse. He bolted, and Dylan ended in the pig's trough with a concussion." She finished, leaning closer to Omid so that her brother couldn't overhear. "Between you and me, you tap his head and you can hear the metal plate they put in at the hospital."

"Are you done with that story? Jesus, I could say millions of stories about the times you f*cked up." Dylan shot back, his face flushed in embarrassment as he couldn't even bring himself to fully look the two smirking adults in the eyes. Charlotte couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty, thinking it was cute that her younger brother really wanted to impress his friend, though he could've picked a better horse to do so.

Chuckling deeply, she stared at Dylan's back as she defended herself. "I never nearly killed myself to impress someone."

Dylan started snickering at that, causing Charlotte's smirk to fall into a frown as she uncrossed her arms, glaring at him as he finally turned his head and revealed. "What about when we first met Samantha?"

"Now I had that situation under control." She shot back quickly, hoping that Dylan wouldn't elaborate with Omid there. However, he was ready for revenge over her little embarrassing tale regarding him and Abigail. Despite the funny side of the situation, it was still too soon for Charlotte to deal with the death, and she tried to stop him with a low warning. "Dylan, don't."

Instead, he looked over at Omid and explained the story with a grin on his face. "Before we met you guys, Charlotte knew this girl. Samantha. Well, when they first met, she tried to impress her by climbing up this huge tree to get the fresh apples that were growing there. Only thing is, she miscalculated a jump and ended up landing right on top of the guy in charge. It was pretty funny until we found out she fractured her leg."

"Ouch." Omid winced, turning to Charlotte while he asked. "You get the girl?"

Charlotte didn't answer that. Rather, she just shook her head and walked straight ahead, passing Dylan as the two glanced at each other, before Dylan cursed under his breath. She knew that it was just joking, but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt whenever someone mentioned her. Behind the survivor, she heard her brother call out to her in a guilty tone. "Charlie! Charlie, I'm sorry!"

His words caused her feet to stop moving. Standing there, she stood there with a tired expression on her face until Omid and Dylan reached her again. Reaching her side, she looked down at Dylan as he glanced away, clearly guilty about bringing up the deceased, and yet she didn't even blame him. Quietly, she placed a hand on his head and pulled him closer, bringing him into a hug as she muttered. "Don't apologise, buddy. I… I guess it's good that you remember her during the good times, rather than all the bad times."

He smiled sadly at that, before pulling himself away and watched as Charlotte looked over to Omid, finishing the story with a saddened smile. "Yeah. I got the girl."

"You know, this reminds me of when Christa and I first met. Vegas. Threw up on the roulette wheel and watched it go flying everywhere, but let's just say that wasn't the best introduction I coulda had with her." He reminisced, walking past Charlotte and Dylan as the trio carried down the road. They were close to the junction just in front of the town, the roads abandoned with few vehicles left, and Omid paused for a moment as he glanced around. Charlotte stopped by his side, the uneasiness in her stomach worsening when she saw nothing but streets and the aftermath of humanity abandoning the small town. A car was all that was left in the street, having skidded across the junction and crashed into the lampost, causing the thing to topple over and pin an unfortunate person underneath.

She approached the destroyed lampost, wincing when she saw the crushed head underneath, the body pinned underneath. She didn't know what happened to the person, what made them stop to look at the thing as it fell. Maybe they were just unlucky. At the very least, they didn't come back as one of the walkers, and it didn't seem like they suffered all that much before their death. Dylan appeared by her suddenly, staring down at the corpse before shaking his head softly and walking away. She did so too, rather following after the others as they moved further into town. By Omid's side, her hand gripped the knife tightly as her other hand ghosted over the gun in her pocket, wondering where all the undead where. It was unnatural.

Suddenly, Omid stopped and lifted his rifle, looking down the sights while Charlotte froze in place, her hand moving away from the gun in her pocket and instead held behind her to signal to Dylan, causing the teen to stop in his tracks as he narrowed his eyes, trying to see what Omid was seeing. Quietly, she whispered to him. "What'd you see?"

"Looks like… a pharmacy." He muttered, a hopeful tone in his voice as Charlotte smiled, before his voice dropped again. "Oh sh*t."

"What? What's wrong?" Dylan piped up from behind them, pushing past his sister as his hand pressed against his forehead, providing some protection from the sun as he stared up ahead. Slowly, Omid lowered his rifle again and glanced over at Charlotte, sharing a worried look with her.

"Well. We found our walkers." He revealed, passing the rifle to the grown woman so she could see for herself. Taking the weapon, she sighed and lifted it up, peering down the sights as she tried to see where the walkers Omid mentioned were. Eventually, her breath stilled in her chest as she spotted the walkers just outside the pharmacy, watching the corpses as some just stood there, nothing grabbing their attention, while others were lying on the ground, sitting or even devouring any food that was unfortunate to be in their grasp. From beside her, she heard Omid point out. "Too many for us to fight, but there might be something in that pharmacy that we need. Medicine, even things for the baby."

"Woah, woah." Dylan started, turning around to stare at Omid as he snapped. "You didn't say anything about a baby."

"Christa's not that far along by the looks of it, Dylan. It'll still be months before we have to worry about it coming." Charlotte sighed, lowering the rifle to look down at her annoyed brother. Dylan crossed his arms, glaring at them as Omid rubbed the back of his neck, though Charlotte returned the heated glared as she growled. "This ain't the time for arguing. Right now, we gotta figure out how we're gonna get past those walkers."

"I just wish you bothered to tell us. Having a baby will change a lot of sh*t! We have to think about getting supplies for it; diapers, baby formula, and then there's the actual birth! We don't even have a doctor!" He hissed, turning to Omid as he added. "Mason knows how to treat cuts and wrap bandages, but delivering a baby is completely out of the question!"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, but we have to focus now." He pointed out, turning to Charlotte with a worried glance. "We still haven't figured out a way to get past the walkers."

She hummed, before turning her attention back to the situation on hand. Lifting the rifle up again, she looked around the area for anything that could be of use, trying to think of a way to get the walkers moving. Softly, she listened as Omid suggested to her. "We could use sound to lure them away. Back in Savannah, this girl used the church bells to move the walkers to one area while she savenged the other. That might work here."

"I don't see any churches around, let alone one with bells." She replied, trying to see around for anything else that would cause a racket.

"You don't need bells." Dylan explained, watching the roads as Omid looked over at him in confusion. Charlotte moved her head away from the rifle, keeping it upright as she too stared down at her brother, listening as he carried on with his explanation. "See if you can find a car, or a couple. You set the alarms off, and while the walkers are going to investigate, we can sneak into the pharmacy."

"That ain't a bad idea. I'll see if I can see some." She agreed, looking into the sights to see if she could spot any vehicles that the group could use. They couldn't be too far away, otherwise the walkers may not hear it, and sure enough, she spotted a couple of cars down the road that had been abandoned. Lowering her rifle, she muttered to the others in a low tone. "Found some just down the road. They should lure the walkers away, and let us see if there are any of them hiding around."

"One of us should go." Omid explained, receiving surprised looks from the others as he sighed. "We can't all go and set the alarms off. One of us can sneak past the walkers to the cars, and then flank them when they start approaching."

Dylan nodded at that, glancing up at Charlotte as he offered. "I can do it."

"Absolutely not. It's too dangerous, and if walkers somehow cut off your escape path… I just can't let you do that." She rejected, earning a heated glare from her brother. Omid watched the two stand off, nervously eyeing the walkers down the road while Charlotte continued to dig her feet in, refusing to budge on the matter. "I don't want you risking your life like that."

"Every single day in this sh*thole we live in I'm risking my life. When are you gonna stop treating me like a little kid?" He demanded, his question stunning Charlotte into silence as he waited for some kind of answer from his guardian. Her face fell, and she listened as he carried on in a annoyed tone. "I'm smaller than either of you, I can sneak more easily past the walkers, and I'm quicker on my feet. So, I'm going."

Charlotte shook her head, before sighing loudly and agreeing with her brother. "Alright, buddy. I'll give you this chance, but if something happens out there-"

"It won't. I promise." Dylan nodded, eager that he was finally given a chance to help the group, rather than being shoved to the sidelines by his overprotective sister. With a nod from Omid, he took out his pistol and started to make his way over to the cluster of cars, keeping low as he watched the walkers near the pharmacy. Charlotte held her breath, following after Dylan with Omid by her side. Quickly, the three separated with Charlotte and Omid sneaking over to an overturned truck, while Dylan continued forward towards the cars.

Pressing her hand against the cold metal, she peeked around the truck and watched the walkers as they remained unsuspecting of the survivors sneaking around them. Finally, she released her breath when she saw that Dylan had managed to reach the cars undetected. The teenage boy looked at the vehicles for a moment, before gesturing to Charlotte and Omid with a point of his finger, signalling them to watch the walkers while he set off the trap. She obeyed, turning her head to look over at the front of the pharmacy, watching the undead with a worried look on her face, unable to stop the feeling of something going wrong from twisting in her stomach. She had to believe in Dylan however. He was right, he couldn't be protected by her forever.

A low groan behind her set her hairs on the back of her neck straight up. Glancing behind her, she noticed that a walker had pulled itself out of the truck cab and tried to grab Omid's leg, the grown man jumping out of the way in time whilst trying to stop any yell of surprise from leaving his throat. Quickly, she pulled out her knife and stood on the walker's neck, stopping it from moving anywhere before she pierced the back of its head. All movement ceased, and blood pooled underneath its head in a small puddle, the stench overwhelming as Charlotte covered her nose in disgust. "Disgusting."

"We should be more careful." Omid pointed out, looking from behind the truck at the larger group of walkers. "Next time, we might not be so lucky it was only one walker."

She nodded in agreement. Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering caused both of them to jump in fright, the loud wailing of a car alarm blaring in the air as Charlotte felt her heart stop. Moving around the truck, she saw Dylan moving onto another car as he smashed the window with his gun, opening the passenger door to do something. Shaking her head, she wanted to yell at him to hurry up and get out of there, noticing that the walkers in front of the pharmacy had noticed the sudden sound and started advancing onto Dylan's location. Her mind was yelling at her to run and save him, but Omid had grabbed her upper arm when he saw the grown woman trying to move from their hiding spot, shaking his head silently when she looked over at him in terror. Going out there would only botch up their plan, and likely get Charlotte and the others killed, but she couldn't bare the thought of sitting there while the undead descended onto her brother.

He's just a kid. The thought ran through her mind, Charlotte repeating it with fear setting in, before she shook her mind free of the troubling ideas. Dylan was a survivor. He had to be, considering they survived for this long into the apocalypse. So, she watched, and that niggling fear in her stomach lessened somewhat when she saw that Dylan was pushing a body onto the horn, making more noise as he slammed the door shut once more. Kneeling down, he saw the walkers approaching and started to move around the car, out of Charlotte's sight. Not being able to see him, it caused warning sirens to go off in her mind, but she couldn't give much heed to them as she saw an opening to get inside the pharmacy.

"Come on!" She whispered harshly to Omid, sneaking around the truck and making her way over to the building as fast as she could. The loud sirens covered the sound of their footsteps. Glancing over at the walkers, she noticed that Dylan was no longer at the cars, and wondered where the teenager had gotten to. Cursing under her breath, she turned her attention to the front doors of the pharmacy, noticing that the glass doors had been smashed in, the glass littering the inside of the building.

"There isn't anything stopping the walkers from getting in if they find us. We gotta be quick." She ordered, slipping through the broken door with Omid close behind her. Inside, she saw that the pharmacy had already been picked over by scavengers before them, and groaned in frustration with her hands behind her head. All the sh*t they went through to get there, and there isn't any to show for their efforts.

"We should comb over this place. There has to be something that other people have missed." Omid wondered hopefully, trying to keep the situation light as he went around the aisles to see if there was anything left. Charlotte wondered if she should join in, but she wanted to make sure that Dylan had made it out in one piece. Peering through the door again, she saw that the walkers were still distracted, and yet she couldn't make out where her little brother was. Her heart fell, and she couldn't help but fear the worst.

However, a door opened loudly from behind the counter, causing the two survivors to be on edge as they watched the door nervously. Charlotte gripped her knife tightly, but when she saw that it was only Dylan that had opened the door, she breathed a sigh of relief and shoved her knife back into her pocket, propping the rifle up against the door before running over to the counter as Dylan closed the door behind him, and made his way over to the counter. She helped him hop over, her hands digging into his jacket as she felt the need to never let go. Instead, she embraced him tightly, her nose in his messy hair as she smelled that familiar scent. It was only then that she realised how close she was to losing it altogether.

"I appreciate the touching gesture." She heard Dylan mumble into her chest, before he managed to release himself from her grip. "But we gotta look around. The car alarms won't last forever, especially with the state the cars were in when I saw them up close."

"He's right. Come on, kid, you can help me look around." Omid offered, pausing in his search to gesture to the teenager to come and help him. Dylan nodded, lifting the backpack off his shoulders as he jogged over to where Omid was standing. Letting him go, Charlotte couldn't help but smile. The fear had gone somewhat, her brother was back with them, and she felt somewhat guilty for ever doubting that he had what it took to survive.

Glancing back at the door, she called over to the others as she walked back over to it. "I'm gonna keep an eye out. If the walkers look like they're coming back over here, we gotta be gone by the time they get back."

They didn't reply. So, she picked up the rifle again and just leaned against the door, watching as the cars continued to blare out the alarms in the distance. The walkers were trying to figure out where the food was as they circled the cars, while others just stood there, mesmerised by the sound blaring into their ears. She didn't know how long the car alarms would go on for, but given Dylan's warning, she knew that they were on borrowed time. It was times like this that she wished her father was with them. All the trucks and cars, even the family tractor, that he worked on would have been useful for them. Maybe if he was there, they wouldn't have crashed and had managed to get to Charlotte sooner. However, if they did, she dreaded to think that maybe she wouldn't have ran into Omid and the others.

"Erm, Charlie?" She heard Dylan awkwardly ask from behind the aisles. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the teenage boy shuffling over to her with something in his hands, raising an eyebrow in confusion until she saw his flushed face. Slowly, her eyes lowered to the box in is hands and her face heated up, raising a hand over her eyes as he continued. "I-I noticed… that, erm, you ran out in your bag when I was getting the food out. So…"

"Just throw them in your bag, please?" She replied, unable to bring herself to look at Dylan as he nodded quietly, practically running back to an amused Omid and carrying on with searching. Charlotte shook her head, looking back out of the pharmacy with her cheeks feeling like they were on fire. It was sweet of him to grab something for her, but it was also really embarrassing. So, she shoved that thought away and instead focused on her task on hand, narrowing her eyes when she noticed that walkers from the car park in front of a supermarket had started to move over to the cars.

She hummed under her breath, picking herself off the doorframe and looking through the sights of Omid's rifle. The supermarket looked like someone was trying to survive in there, the windows all boarded up and the doors blocked off with cars parked in front of them, looking like the attempts of desperate people. Her stomach growled when she looked over the old signs that the supermarket had up for deals on their food, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was anything left there. That was, if the people were still there. Lowering the weapon, she turned her head around and called out to the others. "There's a supermarket across the street. Could be a good a place as any to find some food."

"Worth a shot, we're running low as it is." Omid replied, shoving a bottle of something into his bag before standing up. "Not much here, anyway. Found some feminine stuff, a bottle of painkillers, and a roll of bandages."

"Guess other people just got here first." Charlotte sighed, looking around as she noticed Dylan's head bobbing up from behind an aisle on the other side of the store. Slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he glanced over the counter with a curious look, before turning back to Charlotte.

"We could check behind the counter. That's usually where they keep the good sh*t, right?" He asked, before moving towards the counter when Charlotte nodded in agreement. Omid followed after him, both of the survivors hopping back over the counter while the third member of the group went back to keeping an eye out of the walkers. One of the car alarms had given up, the battery likely to have died after months of neglect, but there were still a few going off that kept the walkers distracted. Her stomach twisted in worry however, as there would only be a matter of time before the other batteries gave out and the walkers were left to return to where they once were.

"I'd hurry up, guys!" She yelled back to them, her hands tightening on the rifle as she moved from her casual position against the doorframe. Rustling could be heard from behind her, and when she turned her head to look, she noticed that Dylan and Omid were packing up all they could find. In the distance, she could hear another alarm starting to fail, the once piercingly loud sirens quieting until the battery finally gave out. Only one car remained, and looking through her sights, she saw that the car with the body propped up against the horn was no longer working. "Oh sh*t..."

"That's the last of what's here!" Dylan piped up, hopping over the counter and running over to where Charlotte was standing, looking out at the cars as he realised that only one was working. "f*cking sh*t, why isn't the horn working?!"

"You mean you don't know?!" Charlotte replied in an exasperated tone, glancing down at Dylan as he narrowed his eyes in response.

"Forgive me, Dad must have skipped that lesson with me!" He growled, turning his sights back to the car as he added. "Anyway, we should get going if we don't wanna be trapped by the walkers."

"I found some vitamins behind the counter. Should be useful for Christa, you know, with her pregnancy." Omid revealed, holding up a bottle of prenatal vitamins for Charlotte to see. Nodding in response, she watched as he shoved them in his jacket pocket before passing him the rifle back. With a grateful smile, he took the gun off her and glanced over her shoulder, his smile turning into a worried frown as he muttered. "Looks like we're gonna have to get the hell outta Dodge."

"I can see the supermarket you were talking about." Dylan piped up, pointing to the boarded up building that Charlotte had spotted just before. "There could be supplies in there that we need. We gotta check it out."

"I dunno. The car's gonna give out at any moment, we should get outta here while we still can." Charlotte rejected, watching the walkers as some already started breaking away from the group, no longer interested in the car as the alarm get going off. Dylan frowned at this, and when her stomach growled again, it only proved a point to the teenager.

With a gesture of his hand, he snapped at her in annoyance. "Look at us! We ain't gonna survive if we don't have food, and if we come back another day, what if it's just like the pharmacy? What if someone already comes along and takes it?"

"There doesn't seem to be that many walkers near there. If we're quick, we can get in before the walkers even know we're there." Omid agreed, watching the walkers while Charlotte thought it over. Crossing her arms, she glanced nervously at the walkers and thought against trying their luck with them, but her crippling hunger reminded her just how desperate the group was getting. The fish traps were their hope for a renewable source of food, but what would they do if the traps ended up not catching anything?

Quietly, she sighed and nodded. "Alright, but we gotta be quick. Some of the walkers are already getting bored with the alarm."

Dylan nodded eagerly, before taking the front as the group left the pharmacy back through the destroyed doors. Quietly, they moved through the empty car park while keeping an eye of the walkers, Charlotte glancing behind at the pharmacy as they left the building behind. She had hoped that they found more for their troubles, but they would have to deal with it, and she focused on the matter at hand rather than the pitifully small take they had on their backs. The walkers that had moved away form the cars had started to roam the streets, a few making their way back to the pharmacy while the group snuck away, hiding behind the truck that Charlotte and Omid were hiding behind before. Pulling out her knife, she peered around the vehicle and noticed that the walkers hadn't noticed them yet, instead returning to the pharmacy car park.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned her head to the other two and whispered. "They hadn't noticed us."

"Yeah, but they ain't noticing the car anymore. How're we gonna get over there without tipping them off?" Dylan pointed out, moving to her side as he too peeked from behind the truck. Charlotte somewhat agreed with him on that matter, but as she continued to watch the walkers, she noticed that they were grouping up, moving further down the road as another alarm further down had been set off. Confusion struck the group, none of them saying anything as they just watched the walkers move as one towards the sound.

"What the f*ck?" Charlotte muttered, sharing a look with Dylan as he shrugged his shoulder. Glancing back up, she added in a more relieved tone while watching the undead. "Well, I think this is our chance."

"I'll watch your backs." Omid offered, following after Charlotte and Dylan as they all moved from behind their cover. Standing up straight, they ran across the junction to the other side, making a beeline straight for the supermarket while the walkers were distracted. As they reached the other side, the final car had finally given out and the alarm fell silent, the few walkers that remained turning their attention to the survivors as they paused.

Charlotte gripped her knife tightly, holding her hand out in front of Omid when he made a move to shoot the walkers. "Don't. We start making noise, and the whole herd will come down on our ass. Let Dylan and I take care of it."

"I'm right beside you." Her brother replied, pocketing his pistol as he instead pulled out his own knife. Omid did what she ordered him to do, backing away and keeping an eye out while the others approached the growling walkers, poised to attack as they allowed the undead to be drawn away from the leaving group. Charlotte glanced down at the exposed shin of one of the walkers, unable to keep an eye out on Dylan as she delivered a rough kick to the leg, pushing it from underneath the walker and causing it to collapse to the ground, vulnerable as she stabbed it in the back of the head.

Pulling her weapon free with a grunt, she looked to her side and noticed that Dylan had taken care of the other walker, already piercing its skull as she noticed another walker approaching him. Running to it, she threw her shoulder into the corpse's side, sending it stumbling back and away from her brother. With the attack, it turned its attention to her and snarled, showing off its yellowed teeth with its lips missing. Disgusted with the sight, she lifted her arm and threw it forward, stabbing the walker through its eyeball and into its brain, grimacing at the fluid dripping from the damaged socket. With her other arm, she threw it to the ground and stomped on its head with her heavy boot, feeling the front of its skull caving in as she stamped on it again for good measure.

With it dead, she backed away, turning around to see Omid helping Dylan by smacking a walker in the head with the butt of his rifle, the force put behind the assault causing it to fall to the ground dead. Out of danger, she breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath back as Dylan gasped to her. "We got an opening. Might be wise if we use it now."

"You got that right, buddy." She nodded, looking up at the supermarket before running the rest of the way there. With the others behind her, she panted heavily as she looked down the road, watching the walkers as they carried on after the sound without even realising that the group had already taken care of the few stragglers left behind. Stopping in front of the cars blocking the entrance, she sighed in annoyance, trying to see if they could get through.

"Looks like someone was trying to keep the dead out." Omid pointed out, walking to her side as he kept tight hold of his rifle. "You think anyone's still in there?"

"There has to be someone in this town. The alarm down there couldn't have gone off by itself, right?" She wondered, earning an unsure shrug from Omid while Dylan walked up and down the front of the store, trying to see if he could find a way in. "Either way, these windows are boarded up tight, and we ain't getting in this way."

"I wouldn't give up so easily." Dylan piped up, a smirk on his face as he stood down the other end of the supermarket. Charlotte raised an eyebrow, curious about what he found that made him so happy, and so decided to walk down towards him with Omid beside her. When she reached his side, she realised what he was staring at with that grin of his, and listened as he added. "Looks like their maintenance wasn't up to scratch."

In front of them, she saw that one of the boards blocking the broken window wasn't secured properly, only one end being held up with an unsecured nail. Approaching it, she grabbed hold of the board and pushed hard, feeling the board give up slightly as she tried again. With another rough push, the board finally gave in and fell to the floor inside with an echoing bang. Turning to Dylan, she gave him a pleased smile as she praised him. "Good eye there, Dylan."

Smiling back at her, he waited as she lifted herself up into the window. Peering in, she stopped in her tracks as she stared in horror, the scene in front of her filling her up with dread. There were people in the supermarket. Corpses littered the floor, half decayed with flies swarming around them, the stench causing Charlotte to back off outside and retched what little contents she has in her stomach. Dylan and Omid were shocked by her reaction, unknowing about the scene inside the supermarket before the older man approached the window to peer in. Charlotte was bent over, staring down at the vomit on the floor before wiping her mouth with her sleeve. On her back, she felt Dylan's hand rubbing her softly, his voice concerned as he asked her. "What's wrong, Charlie?"

"Holy sh*t." Omid piped up, finally seeing what Charlotte saw before he backed away. "Oh, that is not right."

Dylan, pushed with curiosity and worry at the same time, moved towards him and peeked through the window, seeing the massacre inside as he too couldn't stop himself from retching, running past Omid as he threw up. Straightening herself up, she turned towards Omid and saw his distraught face, shocked to see the death inside the supermarket. She thought they would at least be used to it, especially given her past, but seeing all that up close, the stench of rotting flesh wafting into her nose, it was too much for her already sensitive stomach. Still, she pulled herself together and walked over to Dylan, comforting him as he continued to empty his stomach on the tarmac of the car park.

"Come on, buddy." She muttered, helping him upright while he wiped his mouth with a disgusted expression on his face. "We still have to see if there's anything in there that'll make this trip worthwhile."

Nodding, he moaned under his breath, before following after Charlotte and Omid as they pulled themselves through the window again. Jumping down on the other side, she grimaced as she stood in a blood smear, lifting her boot to examine it while sighing to herself. The stench was dreadful, but she had to keep moving around the bodies and the counters to see if there was anything there. With Omid by her side, she instructed him with a gesture of her hand. "It's a pretty big place. We'll need to split up to cover as much ground as possible. I'll take Dylan with me and check this half, you go and check that half."

"Sounds good. We'll meet here when we're done." He suggested, earning a nod from Charlotte before he walked away from the others. With that half being taken cared of, she turned to Dylan and offered him a sympathetic look when she noticed him looking at all the bodies. The sorrow was clear on his face, and as she walked towards him, she listened as he spoke.

"They were people once." He whispered, looking up at her with guilt in his eyes. "People, just like Aaron, Grace, Michelle… everyone in our group. I wanted to hate them for killing Samantha, but some of them were my friends. It hurts, knowing all the things that they did… all the things you and Liz did."

"Now you know why we left. The group, they were scared, but they were making all the wrong choices. I didn't want you or Mason to make those choices either." She confessed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "At least now, they're all in peace. They don't have to live in this sh*tty world anymore."

"I was such an asshole. I just acted like their deaths were nothing, that they somehow deserved it. They did stupid things, we all did, and yet we're here and they're just more bodies on the road. More of the dead." He sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve as he continued. "I just wanted to hate them. It's easier to hate them than to admit that the people you cared about did such sh*tty things."

"We can make it up, though. All the things I did, I will make up for them, and that's why I'm going to keep this group alive. Whatever it takes." She promised, guiding Dylan away from the bodies as she muttered softly. "Come on, we still gotta see what's left."

He offered no resistance to her suggestion. Instead, he followed after her silently as they started to comb through the aisles, looking for anything that could be taken. While he started grabbing a few packet of noodles that had been left behind, Charlotte looked down at the freezers, noticing that they were all mostly empty. Given that it had been months since the freezers even worked, she wouldn't trust any of the food that was left behind. So, she just looked through the aisles. The group that had been there before must have started to feel the strain of finding food, considering that as the two moved through the aisles, there wasn't that much left. From behind her, she heard Dylan sigh. "Maybe other people came here and took what was left?"

"There doesn't seem to be any sign of entry, though." She pointed out, picking up a pack of water bottles. She tested the weight, nodding with a smile on her face she see looked over at her brother. "It may not be much, but we need anything we can find."

"Take it out of the packaging and we can fit it in my bag." He explained, pulling the bag off his shoulder while Charlotte started to take the bottles out of the packaging. With the bag opened in front of her, she started tossing in the bottles while Dylan continued to look over the shelves for anything else. Staring at the contents of the bag, she was surprised when Dylan came back with cans in his arms, a pleased look on his face as he laughed. "I found them down there. More beans, and even some canned soup!"

"Soup's always great on a winter day. Shove them in." She smiled, standing up and looking at the picked clean shelves while Dylan packed up his findings. From the windows high up, she could see that the sun was starting to dip behind the buildings, the skies still that deep blue but the light starting to fade, the clouds starting to form as it looked like it would rain soon, or worse. She couldn't deal with walking in the cold again.

"There's some stuff down this way." Dylan piped up, gesturing for Charlotte to follow after him as he jogged down the aisle with his bag over his shoulder. She ran after him, wondering what he found that got him so riled up, watching him as he swung around a corner into another aisle and tried to keep up with the agile survivor. When she too turned around the corner, she saw that it was a stationary supplies aisle. What was left, anyway. Ignoring the files and packets of envelopes that were left behind, she joined back up with Dylan as he stopped near something, the teenage boy lifting up what appeared to be a school bag in his hand.

"You should have one. We can carry more, then." He explained, passing the bag to Charlotte and going about his own business as she looked down at it. It was black in colour, but on the front pocket of the item was a smiley face, and she couldn't help but smile herself at her brother's kindness. So, she pulled the bag over her shoulders and approached him again, noticing that he was eyeing up a book that was abandoned on the shelves.

Glancing up at her for a moment, he looked back and shrugged. "I was just thinking. It should be Christmas soon, I mean, as close as I can think. I don't have a calendar but I'm pretty sure. So, it might be nice if we can find something for Mason and Clementine… Something they can open up on the day."

"That's a sweet idea, Dylan." She replied softly, earning a bashful look from her brother as she picked up the book he was eyeing. Flicking through the pages, she realised that it was in fact a colouring book, the blank drawings on the pages showing animals, plants, even mythical creatures like dragons and unicorns. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she closed the book and took off her new backpack, shoving it in while smiling. "Clementine should like this book. See if y'all can find some crayons or something for her to colour in with."

Nodding with a grin, he walked over to the part of the aisle where all the pens and stuff were kept, looking over the remaining stock while Charlotte watched him, before deciding to find something for the teenager to open on Christmas as well. Looking around, she combed through the aisles for something that would please her brother, knowing that he was too old for colouring. Moving further down the aisle, she paused when she noticed the book section, spotting a few comic books amongst the more adult books left. Grabbing them, she looked over the cover, noticing it was about superheroes and that. Dylan wasn't a big fan of reading, but he was a big fan of superheroes, ever since he was just a kid. With a nod, she glanced over her shoulder and, when she noticed that Dylan wasn't paying attention, she shoved the comics into her bag quickly.

She looked back up at the books, noticing some of the romance novels and decided that maybe Christa, and herself, would enjoy the books for some entertainment. Plucking a couple off the shelf, she shoved them in with the comics and zipped her bag back up, standing up just in time as she heard Dylan's voice from behind her. "I found some good crayons for Clementine, and I grabbed some drawing stuff in case she finished her book. Paper too."

Turning around, she spotted all the stuff in his hand and nodded with a bright smile, unzipping her bag and taking the supplies off him, quickly shoving them in as she mumbled. "Now we just need something for Mason."

"He already has some CDs from our trip up here. Maybe, we can find something else?" Dylan asked, searching through the stock to see if there was anything they could take. Charlotte joined him in his search, unsure what it was that Mason would want. All this time, she was surprised that she didn't really know his likes or his wants. Before the plague, he was just focused on school, and after everything that's happened, he's just focused on survival. It was quite sad.

Picking up a humorous birthday card, she chuckled at the funny looking penguin on the front before putting it back in the shelf. With Dylan behind her, she spoke up in an amused tone. "You know, considering we're his family, it's a bit strange that we don't know what he wants for Christmas."

"Tell me about it." Dylan responded in a dry tone, picking up a snowglobe with a frown before putting it back down. "I get more flak about it, considering we're twins."

"And so you should, now keep looking." She shot back, earning a glare form Dylan as he did what he was told. Slowly, they made their way up the end of aisle, their findings coming to nil as Charlotte sighed to herself, placing her hands on her hips as she looked around. "Come on, we should meet back up with Omid."

"Wait." Dylan replied suddenly, stopping for a moment before he jogged past Charlotte. Confused, she watched as he stopped near a stand that was separate from all the others, looking over the contents while she wondered what it was that he was doing. After a few seconds, he plucked something off the shelf and turned around, approaching his sister again as he showed her his findings.

In his hand was a polaroid camera, a grin on his face as he finally piped up. "Mason's told me before that he wished he grabbed a picture of our parents before we left. I was thinking that we could give this to him, so he'll have a picture of all of us. In case…"

His face fell, the gravity of their situation setting in as Charlotte stared at him with empathy in her eyes. Slowly, she approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling sadly, trying to get him to smile back at her as she nodded her head in agreement. "That's a lovely idea. I'm sure Mason will love it."

His smile came back. Her kind words helped him out of his depressive state, and quickly, he shoved the camera in her backpack before the two started making their way back towards the front part of the store, picking up any forgotten food that they could find. While the haul was definitely better than that of the pharmacy, they would definitely need the fish traps to work out if they were going to survive through the winter. Finally, they reached the front of the store again, though Omid had yet to return from wherever he was. So, Charlotte decided to wait for him, propping herself up onto the conveyor belt next to the till with her backpack beside her. Dylan just walked around, unable to keep still like she could. Sitting there, she could no longer hear the alarms in the distance, wondering how long it would be before the walkers would wander back to this part of town, and decided that they should be gone before then.

Quietly, she heard Dylan swear to himself. "sh*t."

"What's up?" She asked quietly, keeping her voice low to avoid drawing attention from anything that may be just outside.

Dylan stopped his pacing, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he sighed. "I forgot to grab Omid something for Christmas. It wouldn't be cool to get everyone else something and not him."

"Well…" She paused, before deciding to let the teen stray away from her for that moment. "Go and quickly grab him something. I think I saw a joke book back in the other aisle."

"Sure." He nodded, before turning on his heel and rushing back to the aisle where the books were. Charlotte smiled at the sight of him running to find Omid something, shaking her head while chuckling deeply to herself. Dylan may have tried to act like a tough survivor, similar to all the other men in their group, but he did have a heart of gold when given a chance. She just hoped that he wouldn't lose that the longer they went surviving in this world.

She sat there in silence, keeping an ear out for any of those telltale groans that signalled it was time for them to pack up and go. All that she could hear though was the distant birdsong and the wind blowing through the open window, the chilled winter frost causing goosebumps to form on her skin, even when she was wearing multiple layers of clothes. She wished she was back in Texas. The warm summer nights, the beautiful beaches near the Gulf down south, the deep blue ocean and the rivers that her father took her fishing on. She remembered a time where she thought she caught a huge catfish and tried so hard to reel it in, only for it to be an old tire that someone chucked into the river beforehand. Her father wanted to laugh, she knew that, but he didn't. Seeing the disappointment on his young daughter's face, he just put the fishing rod back in her hands and told her to keep trying.

Never give up.

She held those words of advice close to her. In his thoughts, she didn't hear the footsteps coming towards her until she spotted Omid approaching, pushing her memories away as she offered him a smile and asked quietly. "You find anything?"

"There was a small medicine section at the back. Most of the stuff was gone, but I did find some antibiotics. Other than that, just noodles and juice boxes." He revealed, lifting his backpack further up his shoulder while holding his rifle in his other hand. Looking around, he raised an eyebrow and questioned the only survivor there. "Where's Dylan?"

She didn't know what to say, and rather spoil the surprise, she just deflected the question. "He's just gone on a last minute sweep, see if we missed anything. We found some stuff for Clementine and Mason, you know, for Christmas."

"That's an awesome idea. What'd you get them?" He complimented, leaning against the conveyor belt that Charlotte was sitting on, propping his rifle up next to him. Charlotte glanced at her bag, pleased with what she and Dylan picked out for the others.

"We found a colouring book and crayons for Clementine, and a camera for Mason. He wanted pictures of our parents before we left our house, down in Texas… but he never got the chance. At least now, he can have pictures of all of us." She explained, earning an saddened smile from Omid, before he tried to lighten up the mood again.

"Hey, make sure he gets my good side, then." He joked, earning a soft laugh from Charlotte as she watched the front of the aisles, wondering where her brother had gotten off to. She couldn't help it, but worry started to make her stomach twist painfully, the gut feeling like it was tying itself into knots, and yet her brain scolded her for getting so wound up when Dylan was gone for literally minutes.

It was just too quiet. Even Omid was starting to get unnerved with the silence, and evening starting to set in while the light was fading from the skies. Slowly, she jumped down from the conveyor belt and shared a worried glance with the other survivor beside her, the both of them unwilling to say anything in case it jinxed them. Suddenly, she heard something fall to the ground, a loud smash of something like glass breaking echoing through the air, and her heart stop when she heard Dylan's voice yell out. "Get the f*ck away from me!"

"Dylan?!" She called out desperately, already running ahead while Omid fumbled for his rifle, trying to keep up with the taller woman as they pelted it down the aisles. Her mind was racing with thoughts, pleading that nothing happened to her brother. Anyone but him. Please, if there was a God up there, let Dylan be spared. With her mind distracted, she almost tripped over her own two feet, her hands pushing her off the ground as she recovered from the blunder. Again, she heard Dylan yell for her.

"Charlie, help!" His frightened voice spurred her to move faster, and when she spun around the corner, she saw Dylan trying to escape someone's grip. It wasn't the undead, as they made no attempt to bite him, and the gun to his head made her heart stop and her face fall in horror. Finally, Dylan spotted her standing there, trying to escape the person's grip as he snapped. "Get off!"

"Get away from him!" She snarled, pulling her pistol out of her pocket and aiming it at the person, her narrowed eyes glaring at them. Omid raised his rifle, ready to defend the group if given the chance, and the three of them were at a standoff. The person was just a woman, dulled eyes staring at them with dark bags underneath, her hair in a messy bun and her skin a sickly pale.

"Put the guns down." She ordered in a chilling voice, keeping a tight grip around Dylan's neck as she snapped. "I ain't gonna shoot a child, but I ain't gonna let some assholes roll over me with my supplies!"

"Your supplies? The place was abandoned when we came here, everyone that was here is dead!" Omid pointed out, unsure what the woman was talking about.

His words caused her eyes to widen, a look of pure rage on her face as she growled at them. "They were my friends! We escaped the place, but no, we can never escape this hellhole! You think all you gotta worry about is the dead, but the living will turn on you just as easily! Those people, I thought we were in it together! They lied! You'll lie too!"

"Easy there." Charlotte tried to calm, starting to worry about the survivor's mental state as she raised her hand, trying to approach them to save her brother. Dylan watched with widened eyes, quietly whimpering when his captor shoved the pistol further to his head, closing his eyes momentarily while his sister questioned the deranged woman. "What's happened here?"

"Don't come here with your niceties! That's what the man was like, he said everything will be alright and that we were safe, but I knew better! You're never safe!" She rambled, pulling Dylan further back as she backed away from Charlotte. "Don't you take a step closer, I mean it!"

"Who's the man? Where's this place that your group escaped from?" Omid asked, joining in on the questioning to see what had happened.

The woman glanced over at him, her eyes looking him over before stopping on the rifle aimed at her, before she started to break down into hysterical sobs. Charlotte watched with caution, unsure what would set her off again, but she couldn't leave Dylan in that situation any longer. Finally, the woman gasped between sobs. "He said it was safe! Then… all the rules came in, all the bullsh*t and the death! I lost my family! I don't know where they are or if they're alright! My little baby… He's only a baby, he needs his mother!"

"Hon…" Charlotte started, moving against towards them with her hand reached out. "Do you know where your family is? Do you need help finding them?"

Quickly, the woman stopped crying and glared at Charlotte, her voice a piercing snarl as she snapped at them. "They were here! When I left to get help, they stayed behind to help someone in our group who was sick! They're all gone… The dead don't lie, but people who were meant to watching out for us lied! I'm not going back, you tell them that Ol' Hilda knows their dirty tricks!"

"Hilda, you're not making any sense. Please, just let Dylan go and we'll leave you alone." Charlotte begged, starting to grow more worried for the safety of Dylan. When the teen tried to removed himself from Hilda's grasp, she tightened her grip and moved back again, seemingly unwilling to actually pull the trigger. That didn't mean she was willing to test that theory, though.

"You his mother?" She suddenly asked, her voice a softer tone than the constant screeching she was doing just then. Charlotte paused for a second, glancing at her brother before shaking her head in response, listening as Hilda carried on. "That won't do. The poor boy, he's only young. Boys need their mother."

"Our mother died months ago. I'm all he has left. So, please, give him back." She begged, watching as Hilda thought about it before quickly adding in a pleading tone. "You lost your family, Hilda. Please, don't take mine away from me."

"You folks should leave now. It's not safe when it gets dark." Hilda suddenly pointed out, confusing the others as she continued to ramble. "I was a mother. I had a little boy with beautiful blue eyes, just like Dylan has. I can be a mother again. We can live here and I won't let what happened to my family happen to him. He'll be my little boy."

"That's out of the question. I can't leave without my brother!" Charlotte snapped, unwilling to abandon her brother to the mad woman. Omid tried to stop her from physically attacking Hilda, grabbing her upper arm tight to make sure the situation didn't escalate out of control, but Charlotte's adamant refusal with the woman's suggestion caused her to turn again.

"You think you're safe out there, that you'll keep him safe and alive! You don't know what you're doing! In the end, we're all gonna die, and I'd rather shoot this boy here than let him leave this place with you, because no matter what, he's just gonna die anyway!" She screamed, her finger moving to the trigger as Dylan cried out in panic, trying to fight against her grip as she continued in her rant. "You're not even his mother! What do you know on raising a child?! How are you gonna keep any of these people ali-?!"

Charlotte didn't give her a chance to finish her ranting as she fired her gun, watching as the bullet shot through the front of her forehead, the blood trickling out as she stared ahead in shock. Dylan took the opportunity to get free of her grip, running forward into Charlotte's arms as the body collapsed to the ground. Her hands gripped into his jacket, keeping him close as he finally broke in her arms, crying softly as she comforted the traumatised teen, shushing him while Omid moved past them. She stayed where she was, watching as he picked up the gun from Hilda's hand and stared at the scene with shock still on his face. Slowly, he turned to face her with widened eyes, none of them unable to say anything as she continued to shush her brother, trying to get him calm enough.

"I had to do it." She finally whispered, meeting Omid's eyes with her own as she repeated herself. "I had to do it. I couldn't lose Dylan. I promised my parents I would protect them no matter what…"

"sh*t." That was all Omid could say, before he just stared down at the corpse as the blood formed a puddle under her head. Charlotte looked down at the unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened that pushed the woman so far mentally that she just snapped. With a sniffling Dylan in her arms, she lowered her face until the lower part was pressed into his jacket, holding him close while she finally closed her eyes. She couldn't bare to look at what she did. Hilda was too far along, there was no other way, her brain kept telling her over and over again, trying to think of some excuse for what she did.

You killed people before. Why is she any different? Her thoughts pointed out, and she honestly had no answer for them. She did kill before, and it was usually without much provocation. It was just business. It was survival. But kneeling there, she realised that it was survival that pushed her to pull the trigger. Cruel mercy. The woman was too far gone, and she had lost so much. She made a choice, and so she would have to live with the consequences on her conscious.

She had to do it.

ANNOUNCMENT

For now, we have decided to put Thicker Than Water on hiatus due to lack of interest and the fandom being dead. The other fanfic currently being written; As The Cold Wind Blows, will still be updated with an update coming shortly.

After being separated from Javier and the rest of their family, David and his young daughter, Mariana, are forced outside the city on the way to get his mother to the hospital. On the way back home to reunite with the others, the two survivors run into another, a young woman named Ava, trying to survive through the plague. Together, the three go through obstacles trying to find their family, and safety for the young girl in his care.

Chapter 10 is up!

Chapter 10: Return Back Home

"So, what's this place like?" David glanced down at Vincent, the teen having moved to his other side and kept an eye on their surroundings in case any of the walkers sprung out of the darkness. The temperature had dropped immensely when the sunlight disappeared from the sky, rather the deep black and navy blues replacing the once bright colours of the day. David, the only one without a jacket, could feel goosebumps running up and down his exposed arms, his thin flannel shirt, great for heat of the day, nearly useless in keeping him warm, and then there was the fact that winter was coming in the distant future.

Rubbing his stubbled jawline absentmindedly, he started to recall his home with some clarity. "Well, it's pretty secure, and we have the people to defend it if needed. There's food, water, even rooms for people to sleep in the tower there."

"I've seen that tower over the water." Vincent revealed, looking up at David with a faint smile on his face, almost sounding excited to see that tower again as he continued to question him for answers on their new home. "The people there. What're they like?"

David said nothing about that. Instead, he moved his gaze from the curious to teen to Axel, staring at his back while he walked ahead of the group, scouting up ahead to see if there was any danger up ahead, or anything that could hinder their progress back towards the bridge. Vincent followed his sights, too staring at Axel with narrowed eyes before he just looked away with a scowl, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Still watching the leader of their group walking, David quietly explained to Vincent. "There are some good people in Charleston. Maria's in charge, but don't be afraid to talk to her. She's really sweet."

"Not everyone's been exactly warming to me." Vincent pointed out bitterly, and David couldn't help but agree with him. Staring at the gauze on the young face, the sound of the gunshot echoing in the back of his mind and the sight of blood on the teen's clothes, there was nothing he felt for Axel other than wariness and contempt for him. Even when he recalled Stephen's words previously about his friend, David couldn't bring himself to actually care if anything happened or not. However, that part of his mind, that soldier in him that he relied on just to survive, scolded him for thinking about abandoning another comrade after making a promise to bring him home.

No matter the person, there was nothing he could say that would excuse abandoning them to the walkers. Axel did save his life, and he protected Ava on the bridge when the walkers attacked them. Saying nothing more on the matter, his mood turned sour when Axel piped up from the front, a tired and frustrated tone to his voice as he snapped at the others. "If all that sh*t before didn't happen, we'd have been home by now. Carissa's no doubt left us behind."

"Look, it happened. Even if the others aren't there doesn't mean we should turn the blame on each other. Let's just focus on keeping to the bridge." Ava ordered, her voice much more calmer than Axel's and soothing over the bubbling anger in David as he scowled deeply, matching Vincent's own hidden fury for the survivor in front of them. How badly he wanted to point out that it was Axel who fired the gun and brought the dead on them, but Ava was right. In the middle of the pitch black street, with walkers likely going to jump on them at any moment, right then was not the time to start an argument over who's fault it was. So, David held his tongue.

"It shouldn't be that far now." Axel replied, calming himself down as his voice dropped most of the biting edge. He sounded almost exhausted. David's scowl fell when he heard the voice, and rather he just kept following the leader of the group with a neutral expression on his tired face. In the distance, he could make out the spot lights that were used on the walls of Charleston, the light coming from the settlement highlighting the huge bridge spanning over the river.

"There it is." Vincent pointed out, pausing in his walking as the others walked past him. David noticed his missing companion and stopped, turning around to see Vincent just standing there, staring at the bridge in the distance with worry clear on his face, eyebrows furrowed together as he sighed to himself. When Ava stopped by David's side, they both listened as the teen asked them quietly. "I get that you guys are taking me there for safety, and I'm really grateful for it, but I just can't get it outta my head how worried my dad's gonna be… When he does come home."

His face fell when he uttered that last sentence. David and Ava shared a look, the latter turning her head back to Vincent and decided to walk towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder and offering him a warm smile when he met her gaze. That smile caused his face to soften, some of that grief and sorrow washing away, yet some still remained, and so Ava moved to his side and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pushing him to walk with her as she comforted the upset teen. "Don't worry, kid. I'm sure your dad won't stop tearing through this city until he finds you."

"I guess you're right." He conceded, nodding slowly before he stifled a short laugh and recalled in a reminiscing tone. "One time, I got lost in this supermarket after walking away from my dad while he was trying to find some cereal I wanted so badly. I can't even remember the name now. When he turned around to see I wasn't there, he went ballistic. Tore through the aisle like he was possessed, even went to the security guard to see if I had been taken by someone or not."

"Sounds like someone else I know." Ava joked, glancing over at David as he just stared at her with a smirk. It was true, hell, he could see himself in the same situation as Vincent's father, though he admitted to himself that he probably would have been much worse.

Vincent grinned when he saw her staring at David, continuing his story with a snort barely cut off. "It's weird. He made all this fuss when I was gone, and then when he found me… he was just so calm with me. I saw him raise hell, fight people for what he thought was right. He never let anyone change his mind. But with me, he was always patient. Taught me to never let people tell me what's right and wrong, that I'd have to figure that out for myself… I miss him."

With the story finished, he shrugged off Ava's arm and instead walked past David, calling over his shoulder at them with a more subdued tone. "We should keep moving. It's pretty dangerous around here at night."

David watched him go with his smirk falling into a deep frown, sympathy clear in his face as he heard Ava walking beside him, the latter keeping her voice low as she started to voice her worry to him. "I know that he's just putting on a brave face, but I'm worried when he eventually does boil over. I hope he finds his dad soon."

"That's if he's still alive." David pointed out grimly, turning his head to see Ava glaring at him and sighed in frustration. "Look at this, Ava. His dad's been gone for days. Alright, it's not just him going down to the store for a few hours. This kid has been left on his own and his dad hasn't come back. I don't know about you, but I'd take clarity over hope any day."

"Hope's the only thing that stopping Vince from breaking down. No matter how hard things get, or how bleak, it's hope that keeps someone going." She explained, that hint of annoyance in her voice causing David to raise an eyebrow in surprise. Of all the things they talked about, he never saw Ava get so angry over what they were discussing, and walking by her side, he listened as she continued in a calmer tone. "You remember the weeks we spent in that car after we left Baltimore?"

"How could I forget it? Dealing with the space, the heat, even your snoring was getting too much." He replied in a deadpan voice, earning more heated glares from Ava as she shook her head.

"It's not something to joke about, David. I saw how little you slept, how little you ate or drank or even had time to yourself. You were so stressed about keeping Mariana safe from the walkers just outside our window. But you kept going, because you had hope that one day, we'd win against the walkers and find somewhere safe for that little girl." She paused, that anger and frustration towards David's pragmatism melting away and instead she smiled softly, glancing over at the approaching Charleston as she finished quietly. "And we did."

He had nothing to say to that. Rather, he just looked away from Ava and stared up at Charleston, his face looking thoughtful as he went over what she just told him. Maybe she was right, and it was hope that kept David from going off the deep end all that time they spent on their own. With the walkers growing more and more in numbers, and people starting to become fractured and leaving in small groups of their own, he couldn't stop that hope from fizzling out at the thought that humanity couldn't win. However, he pushed that away and scolded himself for giving up so easily. No matter how long it took, he'd help his people survive against the walkers, and maybe, he'd be able to find what was left of his family again.

Just as they started catching up to Axel and Vincent, the former stopped in his tracks and held his hand up, signalling to the others in his group to stop walking immediately. They complied, David looking over Axel's shoulder as he stared at the front of the bridge. With the light of the community on the other side of the river barely reaching the other end of the bridge, he found it hard to make anything out in the darkness, but Axel's words caused his body to stiffen as he revealed in a low voice. "Walkers. There's not that many, but we can't get past them to the bridge. Looks like we'll have to do some clearing up."

With that, he pulled his knife out of his sheath on his leg and turned his head slightly towards Vincent. "Stay back, kid. We don't wanna use any of our guns, the noise will just bring more."

Vincent did as he was told, backing away and letting Ava and David overtake him, keeping an eye on his back to make sure no walkers snuck up on the group from behind. With Javier's baseball bat in his hand, David approached the walker group with Axel while Ava flanked them, her smaller and lighter body meaning she was able to sneak past some of the walkers more easily and attack from a different angle. The walkers had noticed their approach, turning to face them with blank eyes and gnashing jaws, loud growls of hunger causing David's gut to twist in fear and his heart to beat faster. Axel broke off from his side, throwing his hand holding the knife into the side of a walker's head, the blade piercing through the rotten flesh and into its brain.

The corpse collapsed from the blow, head jerking when Axel pulled his knife free and left the body alone as he moved to the side, dodging a lunge from another walker while DAvid backed away from another one. One of the outstretched arms was cut off just below the elbow, the discoloured bone sticking out of the flesh while the walker continued to growl at him. Swinging the bat back, he grunted in exertion as he swung the bat around with all his might, feeling the wood splinter slightly when it connected with the side of the walker's head. The force pushed its head to the side, a sickening crack ringing in the air and making David suppress a gag. The smell of rotting flesh was almost overpowering, even without the summer sun heating up the decomposing bodies, and with the walkers being in such close proximity to David, the smell was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ava kicking a walker in the knee and jumping back as it collapsed to the ground. As it tried to get back up, she quickly stabbed it in the back of the head with a knife that she likely grabbed from the kitchen back in the pharmacy. She straightened herself up and glanced over at David, her face falling from that smirk into shock as she called out to him. "Behind you!"

He spun around just in time for a walker to lunge for him, grabbing hold of his flannel shirt as he tried to push it off. It was surprisingly strong, looking like it hadn't turned for long with dark skin having greyed, blank eyes staring straight at him as the undead tried to pull him closer into its jaws, teeth snapping at him as the walker hungered for flesh. David dropped the bat, using both his hands to push the walker away from him, and noticed that other walkers were narrowing in on him. Axel and Ava tried to reach him, killing the approaching walkers while David backed up. His foot stood on the abandoned bat and caused him to lose his balance, both he and the walker falling to the ground and causing the bat to roll away from him.

"Get the f*ck off!" He snapped, using one of his hands to keep the walker at bay while his other tried reaching for the bat left on the floor. His fingers brushed against the marked wood, David grunting loudly while the walker snarled in his face, and he realised that the weapon was just too far for him to grab.

In the background, he could barely hear Ava's voice calling out to him in desperation, the noises coming from the undead almost deafening. "Hold on, David!"

With both his hands gripping the front of the walker's bloodied baseball shirt, he managed to push the walker further away from his throat, turning his head away slightly to noticed that the bat had disappeared from where it was. Confused, he turned his attention back to the walker only to see the baseball bat slam against the side of its head, the force flinging the danger off of David and onto its back on the ground. Stunned, it slowly lifted its head only to be greeted by the baseball bat repeatedly smacking it in the head, the thuds of it connecting with skull and the head being mangled heavy in the air. To David's surprise, it wasn't Ava or Axel that had come to his rescue, but rather Vincent. Blood splattered on his face, contorted in grief and anger, he continued to beat the walker until it stopped moving alltogether, before he finally relented and backed away.

Still sitting on the ground, David stared at the scene with shock on his face when Ava reached his side, kneeling down beside him as she breathed heavily, clearly exhausted from fighting the walkers as she gasped. "David, holy sh*t, are you alright?"

"Yeah… I'm fine." He replied, still staring at Vincent with concern on his face. Ava noticed this, turning around to see that the teenager was still standing there, breathing heavily while staring down at the corpse, its head beaten so badly that the skull had completely caved in and the brain matter splattered across the tarmac. Slowly, David got back up to his feet, Ava beside him to offer any assistance in case his close case with the walker somehow hurt him. When he showed that he was capable on his own, she backed off and glanced back at Vincent as the other survivor called out to him. "Vince? Are you alright?"

Finally he turned around, the bloodied baseball bat in hand as he stared up at the grown man, devastation clear in his glistening eyes as he rubbed away some of the unshed tears. At first, his voice was quiet, almost too quiet for David to catch what it was he said, and yet he did. The words caused his face to fall in devastation, staring down at Vincent with sympathy as he sniffed. "M-My dad… he's…"

"Oh sh*t." Ava swore to herself, her eyes falling down at the still corpse behind the teen. David could see her making the connection between his words and what happened, and quickly realised who the corpse was. Axel stood a bit away from the others, just standing there with shock clear on his face, and much to David's surprise, he moved closer to Vincent and placed a hand on the teen's shoulder, standing beside him while muttering.

"I know he looks like your dad, but he's not anymore and it's gonna suck for a long time. Some days you'll feel fine, others the loss will hit you hard, but that's normal about grieving. You just gotta take this one step at a time, alright?" Vincent said nothing. Staring down at his dad's body, David moved to approach them, trying to think of anything to say that would make him feel better, but he stopped when Ava gestured for him to stay with her, shaking her head silently before glancing back over at the other two. David remained, watching as Axel did his best to comfort the boy in his grief.

"I just thought he'd come and find me in the end." Vincent replied miserably, staring down at the corpse as he stopped any attempt from Axel to move from away from the body. Slowly, his voice strained, as if he was trying to stop any of that grief and devastation from spilling over, before he just choked out in a broken sob. "It's all my fault. I should have gone with him! I shoulda been there!"

"That kind of thinking ain't gonna help, kid. If you were with him, chances are you'd be dead too." Axel pointed out, his face drawn tight and serious while Vincent just spilled out all his emotions. With a cry of anguish, he threw the baseball bat he was holding hard, watching as it bounced off the road and started rolling past Ava and David. They stood there, shocked with the sudden transition of Vincent's demeanour, and had to watch as he placed his hands behind his head, pacing with Axel just standing there. That stoicness on his face, something that was always there, was slowly but surely breaking away as he continued to watch the teen go through the pain of his loss.

"He told me to stay behind, to watch the house and the pharmacy while he went out to find food! I said yeah, like some stupid kid, I shoulda been there for him! How long was he out there, just walking about like one of those f*cking things!?" His voice broke, the sheer emotion behind it causing Axel to show more of that sadness and sympathy that he clearly felt. Vincent ignored those looks, instead just rubbing his face roughly to get rid of those unshed tears that David could see in his eyes. Letting his hands drop to his sides, he just looked over at David and Ava with a broken look, his voice a quiet whisper as he just muttered. "I've lost everyone… I'm all alone..."

"Vince." Axel started, walking closer to him while reaching out his hand only for the other survivor to brush off any attempts for comfort. So, Axel let his hand fall back down as he replied sternly, trying to get him to see sense as he continued on regardless if the boy was listening or not. "You're not alone. The people in Charleston, they're good people who know what it's like to lose people too. They can be there for you, to help you. You don't have to go through this all by yourself."

The words seemed to calm Vincent down, gratitude clear on his face before he just glanced at the floor. He was trying. David could see that the teenager was trying so hard to keep going, but that broken face and slumped shoulders, he just looked so tired and done. Finally, he kneeled beside the corpse of his father and rummaged through the pockets, taking out what appeared to be a pocket knife, the blade springing out when he flicked it open. David ignored Ava's quiet protests this time, moving closer to Vincent as he explained. "He gave me this just before all this happened. Never used it for illegal stuff. I used it for whittling, something that my dad liked other than sports. I gave it back so that he had something to defend himself with… I guess it wasn't enough."

"You did what you were supposed to do." David pointed out, standing behind Vincent and holding his hand on top of his shoulder. Vincent glanced slightly over his shoulder, before looking back at the body while he continued. "You defended the pharmacy like he wanted to. You stood up against people that outnumbered you and were armed, and for that, I'm sure he would be so proud of you."

"Proud of what? I didn't stand to you guys, I hid behind you with a gun to your head. Even then, this was all I got." He gestured to the bandage on his face, before continuing on with an angered tone. "I let you guys take all of our stuff and left my home to be overrun by those things. I'm a coward. That's all there is about it."

With that, he stood up and gave one last glance at his father's corpse, before he just storm off towards the bridge. David stood there, until he took a few steps forward and called after the teenager. "Vince-!"

"Let him go, David." Axel interrupted, moving to his side as he too watched him walk off. His face had fallen in pity and sadness in regard to the situation, his voice gentle as he explained to the other grown man. "He just needs time."

David paused in his steps, frowning deeply at Axel when he looked over at him. Ava joined the trio, passing David the baseball bat that Vincent had thrown before. He took it silently, a grim look given to Ava that she reciprocated before they started walking after Vincent, David giving the corpse one last glance before they carried on walking. He thought about suggesting that they buried the corpse before, but with the commotion likely drawing walkers, and Vincent in no state of mind at the moment, he decided to let it slide. That being said, he still felt that guilt hitting him over just leaving Vincent's father to be chewed up by the walkers.

"I'm gonna go and see if he's alright. No one should be alone when that kinda sh*t happens to them." Ava spoke up, waiting for David to nod in response before she took off after Vincent. Watching her go, he kept an eye on the two while Axel sped up, walking beside the other man while watching Ava reach Vincent's side. The latter turned his head to her, listening to her whispering to him while David watched on, unable to hear what they were talking about and instead left Ava to comfort the Vincent on her own. He could always talk to the teenager later when they've reached the safety of Charleston.

From beside him, David listened as Axel quietly explained to him. "I had my suspicions that his father was gone, but for him to find the man like that… I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"I gotta hand it to you, I thought you would have been an asshole to the kid over all this." David confessed, genuinely surprised that Axel hadn't took the opportunity to scold Vincent over holding false hope for his missing kin. Rather than being offended by his truthful words, Axel just stared straight ahead with a tight expression, his lips pulled in a deep frown as he continued to watch Ava and Vincent interacting with each other.

"I know I'm coming off as a hardass, and yeah, you guys may be right in thinking the worst from me, but I'm trying. I'm not a monster." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head while his other hand messed around with the hilt of the knife that was strapped to his thigh. David stared down at it, noticing flecks of blood on the hilt and his hands from fighting the walkers just before. While he continued to look over the small scars and blemishes that ran over the worn skin of the other man's hands, matching his own, David listened as Axel added in a somber tone. "What that kid's seen… that's what it's gonna be like from now on. Death, loss. That's all we have to look forward to, and it hurts… f*ck me, it hurts so much knowing that I can't protect my friends from that sh*t."

"We're in a war, Axel. It's not like any war I fought in. Hell, I'm not sure how we can win, but we gotta try. We don't just give up." David replied with a stern voice, staring straight ahead as he noticed Ava and Vincent waiting for them to regroup at the front of the bridge. Ava stood there, hands on her hips, as she shared a laugh with the teenager. However, Vincent's laugh was quiet, short, almost like he was forcing himself to laugh with her just for the sake of it.

When they were nearly to the others and the bridge, he heard Axel finish their conversation there with a quick grumble. "You may be right, you may be wrong. All we can do is wait and see."

David didn't retort to that statement. Rather, he just kept walking in silence, looking ahead with that stern frown on his face appearing sadder, eyes falling downwards to the tarmac road that led them towards the bridge and over. Ava watched as they came closer, staring up at David with a confused look as she raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering between him and Axel before she decided to let the conversation go when David subtly gestured to her with a raise of his hand. Vincent didn't catch any of their interaction, rather staring down the bridge at the community so close. The spotlights lit up the bridge, showing the abandoned vehicles and the corpses from the fighting beforehand, but the other people in their group were nowhere to be seen. Axel took lead, pausing just at the start of the bridge with his back to the others, showing whatever emotion was running across his face at that moment.

"f*ck it. Carissa took the others back to Charleston, hopefully. Just this bridge and then we're safe. Let's move out." He ordered, starting to walk over the bridge while the others followed after him. David kept to the back, allowing Ava and Vincent to walk between him and Axel while he kept a lookout in case any of the walkers found dead on the bridger weren't really deceased. His grip on the bloodied and fractured baseball bat tightened, and when he glanced down at his weapon, he noticed just how damaged his brother's treasured bat was.

The once polished wood was splintered, small fractures appearing where Vincent went too rough with the walker before, and all the times David himself used it to defend himself and his group over those weeks they spent on their own. Discoloured blood was heavily staining the bottom end, some of the splatter dried while the deeper, scarlet blood from before still dripped down onto the tarmac, leaving droplets of blood behind him as he walked along with the others. His mind quickly scolded itself, knowing that Javier wouldn't be impressed with his treasured bat destroyed like this. He could hear his brother whining, going on and on about how that was his first bat in his first ever game, the baseball player scoring a home run and landing his team a victory. Javier's first ever victory. One of many to come, until his brother screwed his future and career and ended up living on David's couch.

Even then, his family loved Javier. David loved Javier, but that didn't mean that he wasn't jealous of Javier as well. His mother always told David off for saying bad things behind his brother's back, complaining about how his parents always let Javier off no matter how badly he screwed up, and had abandoned them beforehand to go on some stupid tour around the country with his team. When his family needed him most, Javier just left. David could feel that familiar bitterness bubbling in his stomach as he scowled. That was when his thoughts reminded him that he did the exact same thing. His job after the army sucked, his marriage with Kate was in shambles and they just constantly fought like cats and dogs, and Javier was always there. Always f*cking judging.

Prince Javi was what everyone saw. Screw up Javi was what David saw. Yet, he too was a hypocritical screw up. With his kids still young, still grieving over their deceased mother and Gabe wary of connecting with Kate so soon after Laura leaving them, David ran back to the army. Javier was there, and there was a part of David that was relieved that his brother stepped up, yet another part that was saddened that their roles had changed. Javier was becoming the responsible son, the good son. David was just the one who ran away when things got too tough to handle. At least in Charleston, he was able to help people, able to keep his daughter and Ava safe. That was his goal. His chance at redemption for abandoning Mariana and Gabe to run back to the army.

"You know, my dad was a big fan of trucks." He heard Ava reveal, looking up from his wrecked bat to see her turning her head to Vincent again, ignoring the male survivor behind them as they talked. "He always had a truck or two in our garden. We didn't have many neighbours, so no one would complain about the noise he made fixing them up. Every time he wasn't on tour, he was out there with me, teaching me how they worked."

"You said he was on tour? Was he in the army?" Vincent asked, curious about the missing man as he stared down at Ava.

She nodded, looking up ahead at the approaching walls as she explained to the youngest survivor. "Yeah. He loved his job, but he loved his family too. All the fights between him and my mom, all the stupid stuff that got blew up into something huge… and in the end, it didn't even matter. He was killed in action, just shortly after I enlisted too."

"Oh…" Vincent muttered, his voice trailing off as he looked away from her awkwardly. David watched the both of them from behind, saddened when he recalled a similar conversation about Ava's father back in the car. Quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear, Vincent apologised to Ava. "I'm sorry about your loss."

"Don't worry about it, kid. I miss him. Every day I miss him, but that's just life. People die, whether you want them to or not, but at least you can still look back and remember them for who they were, not who they are now." She smiled softly. Vincent returned that smile somewhat, before looking back at the settlement in silence. David kept his words to himself, finding some solace in Ava's optimism over her missing parents as he smiled warmly. However, that smile disappeared slightly when he remembered his own parents.

His father coming back as a walker attacking his own son after David and Javier pried him off their uncle and slammed him into that dresser. David could almost hear his mother screaming at him, confused and scared at the sight of her own children restraining their father like that, the soft words she spoke to a snarling Salvador ended with him tearing the flesh from her cheek. Walking along the road, knowing more about the undead that roamed their world and the death sentence that was being bitten by one, he recalled his attempts to save his mother in vain. Even if they had gotten to a hospital, even if his mother held out long enough, he doubted they would have been able to save her either. Now, she was just another one of those things, tapped in the same car that David abandoned weeks ago.

His grim expressions caught the attention of the other survivors in front of him, his thoughts quickly fading when he heard Ava call out to him, voice quiet and concern laced in her words clearly. "Hey, you doing alright?"

He looked in the direction of the voice, finding Ava having slowed down in her walking pace and appeared by his side, staring up at him with a worn smile that he couldn't bring himself to return. Looking away again, he frowned deeply, a low sigh coming from his parted lips as he pushed away his true feelings and lied. "Yeah, I'll feel better when we get back home, though."

"Same here." She replied, noticing that the group were nearly over the bridge and sighed in relief. "I know I'm gonna sleep tonight."

"Same. I'm so tired, and I think that walker bruised me bad when it knocked me over." David complained, rubbing his back with his free hand while staring ahead in a pained expression. Ava offered him a comforting smile, patting the upper part of his back softly as he winced, before letting her hand fall back to her side as she too looked at the incoming walls of their home. Leaving the conversation there, the group came to a halt in front of the imposing gate, Vincent backing until he reached David's side. Worryingly, he glanced up at the older man, seemingly unsure in himself as Axel banged on the gate with his fist.

"Hey, it's Axel! Open up!" He called out, looking up the wall to see if any of the guards were on patrol on top. After a few moments of silence, the grinding of the heavy metal gate being pulled was loud in their ears, the annoying ringing in David's ears causing him to wince while staring at the people that were appearing from behind the gate. In full view, he and Ava stiffened when they saw Maria and Stephen standing there. The latter frowned deeply, staring at the group as they slunked in like children that were in trouble, staring at them while Maria appeared more relieved, a faint smile on her face as she approached them.

Looking up at Axel, she brought him into a tight hug that he allowed, resting one of his hands on her back awkwardly as she finally spoke up. "I've been so worried about you guys! Carissa came back without you, and I couldn't help but think the worst."

"We had a setback. Walkers cornered us in a pharmacy and forced us to wait them out. It wasn't until nightfall when we were able to sneak out, and even then we had to fight more of those bastards coming back here." Axel explained, glancing behind him at the other survivors as Maria and Stephen followed his gaze. Rather than looking straight at David or Ava, they instead stared down at the blood stained and dripping bat that he held in his hand, Maria visibly unnerved from the blood that still dripped down into a little puddle on the ground. Ava and Vincent stared down at it as well, though the teenage boy was unable to stomach the sight of it as he looked away again, closing his eyes as he breathed loudly through his nose and exhaled out of his mouth in an attempt to calm himself down.

Maria was the first to look up from the weapon, meeting David's gaze as she asked him softly. "Are you alright, David?"

"I'm fine. Just a bit sore, that's all." He replied, rubbing his shoulder slowly as the muscles under his hands ached terribly. Pleased with the grown man proving to be alright, Maria left her concern there and just smiled with a brief nod, before turning to Vincent with curiosity clear in those green eyes. Glancing over at Vincent as well, he noticed the teenager slowly moving closer and closer to Ava's side, seeking comfort from her when confronted with an approaching Stephen. Micah was nowhere to be found, something unusual for the protective father that David knew.

Stephen looked at the newcomer up and down, a judging look on his face as he slowly turned to look over at Axel, waiting for the latter to explain who exactly the new survivor was. After staring at Stephen for a moment, Axel gestured with a flick of his hand at Vincent, his voice low as he explained to the second in command of their community. "This here's Vincent. We met him in the pharmacy where we got surrounded. We had some… problems with him."

"Axel!" Ava snapped, glaring heavily at him for his poor choice of words. David joined in, scowling at the other man as he couldn't help that pinge of betrayal hit him in his gut. After talking to him back on the bridge, after seeing him as more than just an asshole who thinks of no one but himself, and knowing how Axel felt with all that's happening, David thought that he'd give Vincent a break over what happened back in the pharmacy. It was over. Vincent apologised and David was fine, as well as the poor boy losing his father not shortly after.

"Ava, I'm not lying over what happened. I'm sorry. I'm just doing my job." Axel apologised, ignoring her heated glares as she glanced up worryingly at Vincent, the both of them unsure what would happen when Axel turned back to Stephen, going further into detail. "We found medicine there, a whole stash hidden in one of the rooms. While Ava and I was looking into it, Vincent appeared and held David at gunpoint. I had to make the shot to save him."

"He wasn't going to shoot, I had it handled!" Ava argued, moving forward as she squared off against Axel. He returned her heated glares with full force, all while David watched on with concern on his face, noticing Maria raising her eyebrows in shock at the truth regarding the newcomer. Vincent crossed his arms, his face fallen in grief as Ava continued in a saddened tone. "He was all alone and three strangers came in to steal his supplies! What would you have done, Stephen?"

Stephen said nothing. Rather, he lifted his head from staring down at Ava and looked over at Vincent, keeping a calm demeanor while Maria shifted her gaze between Ava and Vincent, looking back and forth as she tried to figure out what exactly to say about the revealed truth. Eventually, Ava added in defense of her new friend, her face fallen while she glanced away momentarily. "He's just lost his father, Stephen. He has no one left."

That finally pushed Stephen's calm demeanor away, and underneath that mask showed a sympathetic man who sighed deeply, his voice a low rumble in his chest as he scratched his stubbled jaw. Finally, he let his hand fall back down to his side and questioned the teenage survivor, maintaining his cool gaze while doing so. "Were you planning on pulling the trigger?"

Vincent shuffled on his feet awkwardly, unable to bring himself to look at Stephen as the latter added in a gruff tone. "You look at me when you answer, son."

He did so, finally bringing himself to look straight into Stephen's cold blue eyes and managed to maintain his gaze. Lips pulled into a thin line, he thought about what to say about the accusations against him, and all David could do was stand by and watch as the idea that Vincent might be denied entry suddenly hit him. Ava stood by his side once more, looking up at Vincent as he answered quietly. "No. I wasn't. I was just scared and wanted them to leave, but I wasn't prepared to kill David over it. I just thought if I scared them with the gun, they'd leave, you know?"

"You had your finger on the trigger, boy." Axel pointed out, a strict tone in his voice as he continued his telling off with a disappointed frown. "Whether you were prepared to fire the gun or not, you should never have your finger anywhere near the trigger unless you were willing to pull it."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I really am." Vincent apologised, glancing between Maria and Stephen as his words seemed to soften the latter's stoic exterior. Maria just smiled sadly, uncrossing her arms as she instead let one of her hands rest on her hip, and looked over at Stephen as he met her gaze. David watched them with bated breath, wondering if they would accept Vincent's apology and allow him into the safety of Charleston, or decide that the teen was undeserving of safety after nearly killing one of their scouts.

"You seem pretty genuine to me, and you're still young. You'll learn from your mistakes." Maria pointed out, turning her head to Vincent as he nodded in response. He looked genuinely ashamed of what he did, and yet David didn't have any resentment to the young teen himself, even when he realised that his life was in danger.

"Considering Ava's putting her neck on the line for you, I say we give you a chance here in Charleston." Stephen revealed, earning a visible sigh of relief from Vincent and Ava as the former's stiff shoulders relaxed. David relaxed visibly too, pleased that Vincent was given a chance to prove himself at the community. It would be safer for him there than out in the world alone. Stephen smiled somewhat when Maria approached Vincent, offering her hand to the teen and waited for him to return the gesture. Awkwardly, Vince took her hand and shook it with a quick peek at Ava while Stephen added. "You'll be monitored, however, due to what Axel told us. Nothing severe, just to make sure you can follow rules here."

"You'll be given a room next to Ava and David, just so you're near friends." Maria continued on, releasing her hand from Vince's grip and turning to David, her face more worried than it was a few moments ago as she revealed something to him, his stomach twisting painfully when he heard those quiet words. "Mariana's been waiting for you. She's with Grace right now, so I'd better go and put her mind at ease."

"I can go and show Vince his new place." Ava offered, looking up at David as he nodded in response. With a gesture for Vincent to follow her, the two walked past the taller survivors and started making their way back to the tower in the background. While David watched them leave, he could hear Ava happily joke with the teenager beside her. "You'll like your new place. It ain't much, but it's home."

He couldn't help but smile at the heartwarming scene as they walked out of earshot. With them gone, he turned around when he heard Stephen explained something to Axel, noticing the former standing closer to his friend and Maria listening in. Standing there, he waited when Stephen turned back around to him, his stoic face back as he just stared at David with calculating eyes, his voice gruff and low as he dismissed the soldier. "Well done out there, David. I'll be getting a report on how you did tonight, and I'll want to see you, Ava and Vincent tomorrow morning. For now, you're excused."

"Yessir." David replied, before taking his leave and walking quickly back to the tower. Staring up at the imposing building, he wondered how Mariana would react to seeing him again, recalling how worried the little girl was when he had to leave her that morning to go out the walls of their community, straight into danger just so they could find supplies to keep them going. He wondered if she'd throw a tantrum, similar to Gabe whenever David had to leave on tour or even just go around the store without him after he retired, not understanding that his father wouldn't be gone forever. Maybe Mariana would understand. She was only a child, but she had shown to be more withdrawn with her tantrums than her brother. That said, he recalled her refusing to get into the van with Javier and the others the night his father died and his mother was bitten.

He wouldn't know until he actually saw her again. Reaching the doors leading into the tower, he pushed them open slowly, peering in to see Ava passing a bag to Carissa, noticing that it was her backpack that she'd packed full of the drugs they found back in the pharmacy. Vincent stood off to the side, waiting for his friend to hurry up with his arms crossed and his back leaning against the wall. The teen was the first to spot him, offering David a small smile before turning back to the talking Ava and Carissa with an impatient frown on his face. Chuckling to himself, David decided to just leave them to it when he saw something running through the doors of the staircase. Confused, he quickly realised it was none other than Mariana who ran through and stood there as his young daughter spotted him.

"Daddy!" She called out ecstatically, rushing past Carissa and Ava as the former nearly jumped out of the way to avoid being bowled over. David couldn't stop that smile form widening as he kneeled down, his arms stretched outwards as he brought Mariana in close for a tight hug, feeling her small arms wrap around his neck and squeezed. In his ear, he could hear her happily explain. "I knew you'd come back."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get back. Were you alright with Grace and her mom?" David apologised, letting Mariana move back out of his arms and rather placed his hands on her tiny shoulders.

His apologies caused her smile to fade slightly, and he noticed her hands intertwining as he recognized that little action. The poor girl was nervous, similar to how Laura played with her own hands when she was concerned about something, or hiding something that she didn't want David to know. Worry gnawed at him, his own smile fading as he repeated. "Mariana?"

"Grace's mom seemed sad. When Carissa and the others came back, she wouldn't answer me when I asked when you guys would come back." She revealed, her eyes unable to keep contact with David's as she stared down at her scuffed shoes. Over her shoulder, he could see Carissa and Ava standing there with deep frowns, the former holding onto the backpack handed to her with a tight grip, yet her face clearly showed the concern she must have felt for the young child. While he shared a glance with Ava, he could hear Mariana pipe up again. "She won't be sad now you're home."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Come on, let's go back to our room, it's getting pretty late." David suggested, standing back up again as he took his daughter's hand into his larger one. She looked genuinely happy that he was home, and that happiness radiating off her calmed his nerves down somewhat, if only that niggling thought in the back of his mind remained. He hated the thought that he'd have to go back out there again, if Stephen and Maria decided that he was best suited for it. Mariana would be constantly alone, having to deal with the thought that her father might not come back one day. She had the utmost faith in him returning, but that just made him feel worse when faced with the idea that one day she'd be wrong.

Ava approached them when they started walking towards the stairs, Vincent following after her when he greeted Mariana. "Hey there."

"Who's he?" Mariana asked, peering up at David with curiosity on her face.

"This is Vincent." David introduced, glancing up at the teen as he watched the latter rub the back of his neck with a smile. Mariana looked from her father to the other survivor, surprised to see someone new in the group and yet, soon her curiosity faded and instead a bright smile appeared on her face, waving at him while David continued to explain to her softly. "He'll be staying in the room next door."

"Yep. We'll be neighbours… sorta." He replied in a joking manner, returning Mariana's wave with a small wave of his own and his smile on his face growing warmer. The child seemed to be more excited with the idea of a new neighbour, and stared at down at her jacket when Vincent complimented it. "Cool jacket."

"Thanks! Ava gave it to me!" She replied, looking up at Ava as the grown woman chuckled at that, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the two interact. David felt Mariana let go of his hand, and instead watched as she moved from his side and instead took hold of Vincent's hand, amused with how even the shorter teenager's hand still enveloped her's. With an enthusiasm he hadn't see in weeks, Mariana started to guide Vince towards the stairs while rambling at him. "I can show you your room. Maria lets us decorate it how we want, I got all my drawings on my wall! Ava said they're really good!"

David just let them be. Vincent glanced behind him at the adults watching him go with an awkward smile on his face, before he disappeared through the doors leading to the staircase. Ava and David glanced at each other, laughing when the teen was no longer there to get annoyed with their amused reactions. Mariana seemed to like the boy, and he wouldn't lie, it was nice to see her interacting with Vincent and make him feel more at home. Hopefully, they could help him get more out of his depressed shell and learn to move on from his father's death. The two survivors weren't given long to enjoy the humour of his situation however, as Carissa appeared by David's side and apologised in a low tone. "I'm sorry for leaving you guys behind."

"Hey, you did warn us that you'd have to leave if we didn't get to the bridge by nightfall." Ava pointed out, shrugging her shoulders as she comforted Carissa on her decision beforehand. "You wouldn't have known what happened in the pharmacy. It ain't your fault."

"You put the lives of your group first. That's what a leader should do." David joined in, staring down at Carissa when he noticed that she wasn't wearing her baseball cap. Rather, her shortly chopped hair spiked out in different directions without the cap holding it down in place, and showed that her otherwise dark eyes were actually green in colour. She allowed a small smile to form on her lips at that, clearly happy that David was comforting her rather than chewing her out for abandoning them to the walkers.

"If it's any condolence, Alexis chewed my ass out when we got back home. She really didn't want to leave you guys to the walkers." She revealed, chuckling softly while David grinned at that. It sounded like Alexis, the young woman likely unwilling to leave any behind if she had a chance to save them. From his side, he watched as Carissa just lifted the back of drugs and started walking towards one of the rooms that they used for storage, calling over her shoulder back at them. "I should really get these in lock up. You guys head back to your room, you deserve it."

And with that, she was gone into one of the ground rooms. Alone with Ava, David stifled a yawn while she decided to head up to their room, gesturing for him to follow after her as they made their way after Mariana and Vincent. The young girl was likely on the floor their room was already, showing Vincent his room while blabbering all about how he could decorate it himself. Suddenly, David recalled something and placed his hand in his pocket, pulling out the picture of Vincent and his dad that he took from the teenager's old room. He'd have to give it to him soon, and so David put it back in his pocket for safe keeping and kept walking up the stairs to his room, ready to just go to bed for the night.

After being separated from Javier and the rest of their family, David and his young daughter, Mariana, are forced outside the city on the way to get his mother to the hospital. On the way back home to reunite with the others, the two survivors run into another, a young woman named Ava, trying to survive through the plague. Together, the three go through obstacles trying to find their family, and safety for the young girl in his care.

Chapter 9 is up!

Chapter 6: Along The Stream

Cold metal in her hands was not the only thing that Charlotte was focusing on as she kneeled by the doorframe, her head pressed against the solid wood while she stared into the inky darkness, keeping her body out of the view of the people that she could hear shuffling around. The creaky floorboards in the living room helped her locate where the intruders were, their footsteps echoing in the darkness while she held her breath, worried that even breathing would give away her location. A pair of footsteps neared her door. Heart banging in her chest, Charlotte stayed deathly still as the footsteps paused, her hand moving over her mouth and her other hand gripping her only defense harder, knuckles turning white from the force and the cold.

"There's still embers in the fireplace." She heard a feminine voice point out, feeling her heart drop when she recalled the fire she put out a while ago. The footsteps in front of her door walked away, and the same voice quietly whispered to the other person. "This place wasn't abandoned for long."

"Do you think they're gonna come back?" A new voice piped up, youthful and high pitched which made Charlotte raise an eyebrow in confusion. They had a kid with them. Cursing in her mind, she readjusted herself quietly while a pair of footsteps, lighter than the ones she heard before, grew quieter as they moved away from the door and sounded like they were heading back into the kitchen. With the person the sounds belonging to disappearing, the feminine voice spoke up again while footsteps neared the couch.

"There's a bag here." She whispered. Charlotte inhaled sharply, remembering the bag of supplies that she left by the couch. All their food, their supplies, she wasn't willing to let that be taken by intruders, hearing the woman carry on. "There's not much in here, but we're running low as it is."

"I'll check upstairs. The room over there looks pretty empty." Another voice, more masculine in tone, explained before the light footsteps returned. There was a short pause, only Charlotte's breathing being audible to her ears, before the same voice called out to another person. "You find anything in the kitchen, kid?"

"No. I can't reach the top cupboards." The child replied, her voice quiet to avoid rousing any suspicion in the cabin.

"That's alright. Come on, you can help me check upstairs." The male voice suggested, warmth in his tone before his and the child's footsteps walked near to where the bottom of the staircase was. Charlotte couldn't wait anymore. With the flashlight next to her, she picked it up in one hand and stood up, turning around the corner of the doorframe and stood tall, turning the flashlight on to get a good look at the intruders in her home.

"Don't move!" She ordered harshly, shining the light on the woman that was still by the couch, having been rooting through the bag before she was interrupted by Charlotte's sudden appearance. Dropping the bag on the floor, the canned food, the bottles of water, all rolling out and rattling across the wooden ground, echoing in the empty darkness. By her side, Charlotte could see a rifle propped up against the couch, narrowing her eyes as she snapped. "Don't even think about it."

The woman moved her hand away, instead raising them while glaring at Charlotte heavily. From her side, she could see the other survivors moving back into her vision, and when she looked over at them, she froze when she saw that the child, a young girl looking no more than nine, aimed a pistol at her. Quietly, Charlotte muttered to herself. "sh*t."

"Just lower the gun." She asked, her voice wavering slightly yet she pushed through, trying to be brave even when face with someone bigger, stronger and more willing to pull the trigger. "Please."

"We ain't here to hurt you." The man beside her mumbled, his hands raised as he moved closer to the other woman, appearing more in the light of Charlotte's flashlight. He was short, shorter than his companion and Charlotte, with pale skin and thick stubble running along his jawline, and looked the complete opposite to his dark skinned companion. The tone in his voice, that calm and friendliness, it made Charlotte almost believe him, but she refused to lower the gun. She couldn't bring herself to trust someone again.

"I ain't gonna shoot." She pointed out, trying to keep the situation from escalating any further. "But y'all are trespassing here, and I ain't in the mood for meet and greets."

"We just needed somewhere to wait out the storm. We'd have froze to death if we stayed out there." The woman explained, her tight face frowning as she glanced behind her shoulder. Charlotte followed her gaze and immediately knew what they were talking about. The window near the fireplace was caked in frost, the wind howling outside loud even inside the safety of the cabin.

She could subconsciously feel the cold on her skin, the feeling of the wind biting at her face and her whole body shaking in a desperate attempt to keep warm. Rather than anger or distrust, she slowly found herself feeling empathy for the frozen survivors, especially when she glanced over at the young girl and saw her still pointing the gun, yet still looking scared and tired. She couldn't send them back out there, not with a good conscious. So, Charlotte lowered the gun, watching as the young girl visibly exhaled and lowered her pistol, staring up at the grown woman with amber eyes shining off the light of the flashlight. Throwing the gun on the tableside near the door, Charlotte stood there while the other adults looked at her with surprise, the man smiling thankfully with the weapon no longer being pointed at him.

Taking in a deep breath, she rubbed one of her eyes with her free hand while yawning. "If y'all are really stuck, then stay here. It'll be safer tonight than walking around in those forests."

"Thank you. We appreciate it." The man replied gratefully, walking up to Charlotte and offering his hand, clearly wanting to shake hers. Slowly, she returned the gesture and shook her hand, smiling faintly while he introduced himself. "I'm Omid. Woulda been nicer to meet you in less… drastic conditions."

Nodding, Charlotte looked over at the woman sitting down on the couch, clearly eager to get off her feet before she introduced herself as well, tilting her head to look at the other woman. "I'm Christa."

"Well, name's Charlotte." Charlotte responded, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly before looking down at the child, noticing her walking past and making her way over to Christa, jumping up on the couch while a hand slipped into her shoe, rubbing her obviously sore foot. The whole scene felt awkward after the whole stand off, and Charlotte couldn't help her voice dropping a bit as she mumbled. "What's your name, darlin'?"

The young girl paused in rubbing her foot, glancing from underneath her blue baseball cap as she replied quietly. "Clementine."

"Clementine?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow while her hand fell to its side. "That's a pretty cool name."

"...Thanks." Clementine smiled, falling silent while she glanced at the fireplace. Charlotte followed her stares, and decided that, with the winds threatening to rip her windows off, she'd might as well turn the fireplace back on. Walking over to it, she winced as her socks touched the freezing floor, feeling the cold even through the thick wool covering her feet. None of the newcomers said anything about it, rather Omid moved over to the lone chair near the couch and sat down, an audible sigh of relief reaching Charlotte's ears while she got to work relighting the fire.

The papers that she left on the coffee table were as good as any, and with her lighter pulled out of the back pocket of her jeans, she set a piece of the papers on fire. The light from the fire illuminated her face, bathing it in a warm glow while she placed it inside the old fireplace. Quickly, she started to add more logs, and soon enough the logs caught fire. The flames grew in size immensely, the heat being thrown in Charlotte's face as she smiled, pleased that she could at least keep the cold at bay for a while. Leaving the doors open to let the heat flood the room, she shuffled over to the side of it and sat down on the floor, crossing her legs while her hands rested on her knees. Looking up, she could see the others pleased with the welcome fire warming their frozen bodies, Clementine sliding off the couch to sit nearer to it, plonking herself opposite to Charlotte while warming her hands against the flames.

Enjoying the fire, Charlotte kept quiet for a few minutes, rather allowing the newcomers to warm themselves up before she tried to strike a conversation with them. With a neutral expression, she looked over at Christa, she softly spoke up, not very eager to disturb her brothers who were sleeping just upstairs. "So… where y'all from?"

Christa didn't speak for a moment, rather exhausted from her travels before sighing and leaning back on the couch, enjoying the sit down while explaining. "Me and Omid were from San Francisco, originally, though we haven't seen our home in a long time."

"I wanted to take Christa on a road trip. It was pretty awesome." Omid piped up, a wide grin on his face that Charlotte couldn't help but replicate, finding it easy to settle down around the man.

Christa, however, wasn't in much of a smiling mood as she continued. "We were down in Georgia not too long ago. Savannah."

"Woah," Charlotte whistled, leaning more forward while her arms propped her up on her thighs. "That's a pretty long way to walk."

"It was, but we're pretty tough." Omid butted in, though his smile slowly faded as he added. "There were more of us, but… it didn't really work out."

Immediately, Charlotte recalled her own group. Her eyes moved off to the side, staring at the fire roaring in the old fireplace and frowned deeply, pushing the faces of her deceased friends away as she just muttered to the group. "Yeah. I get what that's like."

When she moved her gaze further away from burning fire, she noticed Clementine staring at it as well, her face fallen in grief while her eyes glistened, unshed tears threatening to fall before she just wiped them away with the sleeve of her brooklyn sweater. Blue eyes softened with the sight of such a young face torn with grief and sadness, and while Charlotte wouldn't lie about being curious about their past. However, she kept quiet about it. If she didn't want to talk much about her own past, she wouldn't push Christa and the others into revealing their own. Without her prodding, Christa decided to change the subject about their missing group and instead turned her interest to Charlotte herself.

"You here by yourself?" She asked, looking down at the bag that was left sprawled at her foot, the food and water still out on the floor.

Charlotte looked up at the ceiling, wondering if her brothers were still sleeping or if the commotion from before had woken them up, the teenagers creeping by the top of the stairs and eavesdropping on their conversation. She wouldn't put it past Mason, the boy was one of the lightest sleepers she ever knew, but Dylan slept like a log. After a few moments of silence, she decided to be straight with the others. "No. My brothers are asleep upstairs."

"Now I get why you appeared when you did." Omid pointed out, leaning forward on the chair with his arms resting on his thighs, similar to Charlotte's position. She stared at him with a serious expression, before nodding slowly in response.

"They turned fourteen just before all this." She revealed, her voice soft and somewhat proud of her siblings, though her genuine smile turned into a depressed frown when she continued in a saddened tone. "They're all I have left. We've been through a lot in the past few months."

"Yeah, I guess everyone has." Christa replied, her face softening and her eyes no longer cold and narrowed in distrust. Rather, she looked tired, and from under her jacket, Charlotte could see a small bump forming in her stomach. Her breath stilled in her lungs when she realised that Christa was expecting, and her brain started running quickly. She didn't know if the group planned to stay, or if they would head out in the morning when the storm passed, but from what she heard beforehand, they were pretty low on supplies, the same as her and her brothers.

However, it was pretty late into the night, and with the newcomers cold, hungry and tired, she decided to leave out the questions on what they would do in the morning. Part of her was hoping that they would move on, knowing that supplies were stretched thin as it is, but another part was happy that she found people. Maybe, these were the people that she could trust. Either way, turning her head over to the door leading into her bedroom, she slowly offered to the group as a peace offering. "Y'all can stay in my room. It's not much, but it's better than what you're probably used to."

"Thank you." Christa replied gratefully, smiling faintly before standing up from the couch, her hand rubbing the lower part of her back while she looked down at Clementine. Charlotte glanced at the little girl, realising that she was nearly falling asleep where she sat, her head falling downwards so that her baseball cap covered her eyes. She lifted her head when she heard Christa call out to her. "Come on, honey, let's get some sleep."

"Okay…" She mumbled, rubbing her eye while getting up to her feet. Before she followed Christa into the other bedroom, she turned to Charlotte, who was still sitting on the floor. "Goodnight, Charlotte."

"Night, darlin'." She replied, offering Clementine a gentle smile before she followed after Christa, the two disappearing into the other bedroom to settle down for the night. Left alone with Omid, Charlotte didn't know what to say to him, or if he would be retiring to bed with the other survivors in his group. When he made no motion to move from his chair, Charlotte decided to add another log to the fire, before standing up and shuffling over to the couch, settling down on the worn fabric cushions before deciding to strike a conversation with the grown man. "So, is Christa your missus' or…?"

"Yep, known her for a good couple of years. Lived in a nice apartment back in San Francisco, owned a cat, but I'm pretty sure he's pissed that we've been gone for so long." Omid joked, trying to raise the spirits when he noticed Charlotte's depressed face. With his smile fading slightly, he tried to be respectful when he asked her. "You said that you had a group before. What, erm, happened to them?"

Charlotte said nothing. Rather, she sat there with her arm leaning against the arm of the chair with all her weight on it, staring down at the floor while she thought about it. Slowly, she opened up with a deep sigh, recalling the incidents with clarity that sometimes scared her. "Most of them were good folk. I knew them ever since all this started. They were scared, they did stupid things, and in the end… they died."

"Oh." Omid began, clearly sympathising with Charlotte as he continued. "I'm sorry to hear that. We've been through some bad sh*t like that too."

"I didn't wanna ask because of Clementine but… what happened? If you don't mind me asking." She whispered, feeling that curiosity appear once more and yet wanting to keep her voice low enough that she didn't disturb Christa and Clementine next door. While watching as Omid thought deeply, she quickly added. "I guess what happened to them is the same that happened to everyone else. You don't have to tell me, I get it."

"I think you know what happened to them, to be honest." Omid pointed out, leaning back into his chair. "They were decent folk too. We met up with them while their train was going along the railway to Savannah, it was a pretty cool train."

"Wish I coulda seen it. That thing musta bulldozed any walker in their way." Charlotte laughed, smiling when Omid laughed in turn.

Quieting his laugh down to a chuckle, he nodded in response to her joke and carried on with his story. "Yeah, nothing could stop it except a huge truck hanging off the bridge over the track. This guy, Lee, he got this blowtorch, said he was gonna cut the thing down but he couldn't reach. Guess the lucky guy who got dangled off the bridge to cut the damn thing."

"Wow, pretty daredevil if you ask me." Charlotte chuckled, earning another quiet laugh from Omid before she asked. "So, this Lee guy. What was he like?"

"He was an awesome dude. He was the guy looking after Clementine before we met her. You could tell… she really cared about him." Omid's face fell again, and Charlotte couldn't stop that nagging feeling in the back of her mind, telling her that there was only one way that the story would end. She didn't interrupt, rather giving Omid the time he needed to continue his story. "After Clementine was kidnapped by this guy, Lee got bit. We thought we could save him by cutting the arm off but he wouldn't have any of it. Wanted both of them for when he "caught the guy who took Clem", as he phrased it."

"Sounds like he loved Clementine a great deal." She sighed, her face fallen in sympathy at the thought of the young girl next door dealing with all this.

Nodding, Omid let his gaze move over to the fireplace, watching the flames burn through the logs fed to it while he remained silent. Letting him this moment to think, Charlotte remembered the hole Elizabeth's death left in her, as well as her parents. Slowly, she looked over at the door, noticing it closed behind when Christa and Clementine retired to bed, and listened as Omid finished the story. "We got separated from Lee when this sign between two buildings collapsed. He told us to meet at the train outside of town, and then he climbed down to push through the herd down in the streets. That was the last time we saw him."

"Seeing Clementine is with you guys, I'd say he saved her." Charlotte questioned, staring at the door with a deep frown pulling at her thin lips.

"Yeah, he did. We found Clementine out in the countryside, outside Savannah. Alone." Omid paused, meeting Charlotte's gaze when the woman looked back at him, and she could see that while he was trying to keep things from getting too depressing, the fact that all his friends were dead could be seen deep in his eyes. "She told us what happened to Lee, and her parents. They were dead, and shortly after, she had to make sure Lee didn't turn."

"Jesus." She whispered, unable to think of any other way to react to what Omid told her. Glancing down at the canned food that was lying on the ground, she just kept quiet, unsure what to say with the information that Omid gave her. Instead, she just quietly asked him. "How's Clementine handling this? She's so young."

"She doesn't talk about Lee, or anyone she knew, really. I guess it's to be expected." Omid explained. With that, he just fell silent, rather focusing on warming his body up before going to bed. After that talk with him, Charlotte felt less awkward in the silence, rather allowing the other adult to enjoy the fire, instead moving to shove her supplies back into the backpack. With a can of beans in her hand, she stared at the worn label with a neutral expression, though she could feel her stomach twisting painfully at the thought of having to go back out to scavenge for more food. Unwilling to think about it until the morning, she shoved the can back in her bag, zipping it up and leaving it propped against the couch.

"Well, time to turn in." Omid piped up, standing up slowly from the chair and stretching out his arms, several popping sounds easy to hear from his back while Charlotte just sat there. Turning around to face her, he smiled down and added. "Thanks, again, for letting us to stay here."

"Sure thing. Goodnight, Omid." Charlotte replied softly, watching when he nodded and walked over to the door leading into the bedroom. Opening it slowly, he slipped through and closed it again after him, leaving her all alone in the living room. Sitting there, she shuffled further along the couch, moving closer to the fireplace and the warmth, before stretching out with her long arms. Plucking a log from the bag, she shoved it in the fire and stirred the fuel with a poker leaning next to it, watching the flames growing as big as before.

Leaving the poker on the floor, she laid down on the couch, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the old cushions her head rested on. Regardless, it was comfortable enough for her to have a doze off, the grown woman having had slept on the hard ground before. With the nightmares plaguing her mind from before, she found herself waking up not long after, and falling back asleep, repeating the senseless cycle until eventually her exhausted body fell into a deeper sleep. The heat from the fireplace wasn't as warm as the thick duvet on her bed, but it was enough to keep her from freezing to death, her body curled up in itself to preserve her body heat.

Her thoughts turned to the story that Omid told her, wondering what they had seen before meeting her, what Clementine had saw. Recalling Lee, she thought about the clear bond between him and the young girl, and she could see that same protectiveness in Omid and Christa to her. It was nice, seeing that kind of love for another human being. Quicker than she expected, she had awoken to light starting to peek from behind the thick forest surrounding the cabin, seeping through the frosted window and lighting up the room somewhat. Groggy from lack of sleep, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and peeked down the couch at the fireplace, noticing that the fire had long gone out.

Strangely, she wasn't as cold as she thought she would be, and when she moved to check the fire, she realised that a blanket was thrown over her body to stop her from freezing to death. Fingers brushed against the soft material, the blanket actually quite warm draped over her. So, with sunlight only starting to appear, and exhaustion wracking her terribly, she decided to just grab a few more hours of sleep and settled back down on the couch, pulling the blanket further up so that it tucked under her chin. Pulling her knees closer into her chest, she remained there, a small ball on the couch, and soon sleep caught her up again.

There was no dreams that time. Rather, she just rested in a dark bliss, remaining on the couch before a hand started shaking her shoulder. Groaning loudly, she brushed the hand off and rolled over, refusing to budge from her spot while the hand continued to try and rouse her from her slumber. Colourful curses were muttered, and she snapped quietly with her hand swatting the annoyance away. "Lemme have five more minutes, f*ckin' Jesus."

"Charlie, there's people in the cabin." A voice whispered harshly, fear and worry clear in its tone that caused her eyes to snap open, her mind reeling in concern for her brothers as she shot upright, blinking through the sleep that had built up in her eyes. Rubbing them sluggishly, she turned her head and saw that it was Mason trying to wake her up, his face contorted in fright with his eyes darting over to Christa and Omid. Charlotte turned her head to look at the others, realising that Dylan was standing in front of her and Mason defensively, his gun in hand while he glared heavily at them.

"We came down and found them just sitting around." He explained, his voice a guttural growl as he demanded from the newcomers. "What'd y'all want? This place is ours!"

"Dylan, put the gun down. It's alright." Charlotte ordered, swinging her long legs over the couch and shivering when they touched the cold flooring. Dylan was shocked, eyebrows raised in surprise when he turned to face her, and when she just nodded with a comforting smile did he lower the gun, listening as she explained while gesturing to the group. "I met them last night. They needed a place to wait out the storm."

"Heya, I'm Omid." Omid introduced, moving forward to offer Dylan his hand while Charlotte noticed Clementine clutching her pistol, having lowered it when the teenager lowered his and yet she was still eyeing him warily, likely bracing herself to act if he threatened them again.

Dylan stared down at the hand, his face tight and serious before softening slightly, taking hold of the grown man's hand and shaking it firmly while replying quietly. "Dylan."

"Cool name." He complimented, offering him a smile that he just ignored, rather throwing the gun on the coffee table and moving to sit down in the chair, leaving Omid to look over at Mason. "What's your name, kid?"

Mason, more fearful of trusting people again, turned to Charlotte for a moment with a nervous glance, before looking back at Omid and smiling faintly. "Mason…"

"I take it these are your brothers?" Christa pointed out, walking from Omid's side to the couch with Clementine following after her. Charlotte watched as they sat down on the couch, shrugging the blanket off her and folding it up, throwing the fabric on top of the other junk that was sprawled across the coffee table.

"Yep." She started, stretching her arms upwards until she heard the joints in her shoulders pop, exhaling in ecstasy when her sore back cracked with the movement. That was the last time she would sleep on that couch. Letting her limbs fall to her side again, she started getting ready for the trip out with Dylan to the river, remembering the fish traps that she left by the front door. Before that, however, she decided to ask the pregnant survivor what had been nagging her. "Christa, what're y'all planning today? Like, where're y'all gonna go?"

"You mean whether we stay or not?" She rephrased, earning a short nod from the other woman while she just glanced over at Clementine, the young girl watching them converse with a contemplative look on her tanned face. A hand moved to the back of her head, messing around with the pigtails that she wore as Christa explained softly. "I don't know. We weren't planning exactly where we were gonna go, just somewhere out of the cities."

"That sounds reasonable." Dylan pointed out from his spot in his chair, looking up at Charlotte as he shrugged nonchalantly. "We were gonna try and survive in Charlotte, the city not too far from here, but it seems like every city in this country is packed full of those f*cking walkers."

"Swear." Clementine piped up, her hand falling from her pigtail and rather resting on her lap with her knees pressed together.

Charlotte stared at her amusingly, a smirk on her face when she raised an eyebrow at Dylan. The teenage boy was surprised at the response from the child, his eyebrows raised up while he pulled his lips together into a thin line, and it was a few moments before he scratched the scar across his nose and chuckled nervously, appearing more sheepish than annoyed at the admonishment about his language. "Sorry. My bad."

"You'll get used to her telling you not to swear." Christa replied warmly, smiling down at Clementine before she mumbled in annoyance. "At least, unless you're Omid."

"I'm her favourite." He joked, crossing his arms over his chest while Charlotte laughed at that. Dylan, while he didn't laugh as loudly as his older sibling, did let go with a small chuckle and listened when Omid suggested to them. "I get that space is pretty restricted here, but you've found yourself a nice place to live. I wouldn't mind sticking around with you guys."

"But we're not looking for charity." Christa quickly interjected, adopting a more serious expression as the topic turned to more mature matters. Charlotte gave them a chance to explain, staring down at the other woman with a slow nod to push her to keep talking. Christa paused, sharing a look with Omid as his smile faded to a frown, before she sighed softly and continued. "It'll be safer here for us and Clementine. If you'll have us, we'd like to stay here."

Charlotte thought about it. Slowly, she backed up until she was near the staircase wall, leaning against it with her arms crossed and her gaze fallen to the coffee table. They were right. Space in the cabin were pretty restricted, and then there was the matter on food, supplies, and the truth about Christa's baby meant that in months time, they'd have to worry about another mouth to feed, another life to protect and keep healthy. However, even with their first introductions, Omid and Christa hadn't lied to her, nor had they tried anything funny. From her side, she heard Mason quietly suggest to her. "You did say we need a group to survive. Well, maybe this is the group you were talking about."

"Charlie, it's more mouths to feed. We barely have enough for us." Dylan pointed out, though he was saying this out of worry for their survival rather than malice or even distrust to the new survivors. She stared at him, taking his opinion into account, before noticing him look over at Clementine and see those ice blue eyes soften, seeing that scowl that he constantly wore melting away slowly. Shifting his gaze back to his older sister, his voice dropped to a mumble. "Maybe, we can figure out some way around that. It's pretty crap out there for anyone to try and survive."

"I know what it's like out there, and I don't really feel right sending you guys back out there, especially with a lil' girl." She decided, looking between Christa and Omid as she finished with a nod of her head. "Y'all can stay here."

The relief that Christa felt was visible on her face as her shoulders slumped, a genuine smile on her face as she nodded in response. Charlotte returned it, glancing down at Clementine as she offered the child. "How'd you like the bedroom over there?"

"So, we don't have to sleep on the ground anymore?" She asked, turning to Christa with large, curious eyes. When her guardian nodded in response, her face brightened up at the thought of having a bed, and Charlotte couldn't help but smile in response to seeing such joy over something that used to be the norm. However, that smile faded when her stomach growled loudly, her hands shooting up to press against it through her shirt.

She was starving, and quickly realised that so were her brothers when Dylan went rooting through the bag that she left by the couch. Pulling out the can of beans that she shoved in last night, he looked worried, eyebrows furrowing when he looked up at her with a deep frown. She knew what he was thinking, listening as he sighed in frustration. "There's not much in there. We got that, the food in my bag, and that's it."

"You were planning on going to the river, weren't you?" Mason piped up. The mention of the river peaked the interest of the others, Christa and Omid staring at the teenage boy as he shuffled on his feet, looking over at the front door where the fish traps were. "We found some fish traps in the shed outside. Could do some good if we catch a few fish."

"I know where the river is." Omid revealed, gesturing behind him with his thumb as he added. "We crossed it not too long ago yesterday. There's a town near that where we can scavenge for some supplies, if we're running low."

"Sounds like a plan then. You can come with me and Dylan, show us where this town is." She ordered, pushing herself off the wall and walking over to where Omid was standing. Passing him by, she pushed the door leading to the bedroom open and called back over her shoulder. "Y'all should get ready, we're leaving in ten."

Leaving them to get together whatever they needed, she noticed her bed duvet pushed halfway across the bed, none of the other survivors bothering to make the bed before they woke up that morning. Oddly, she remembered doing the exact same thing, and the scoldings she got echoed in the back of her mine while she smiled softly, making the bed up again. Her hands smoothed over the worn fabrics, before she backed off and grabbed the jacket that she left hanging on the curtain hook. Her arms slipped through the sleeves, her warm skin forming goosebumps when coming into contact with the cold clothing, and whilst glancing out of the window, she zipped her jacket up to better protect herself.

The snow had melted away somewhat, the blue skies clearer than the grey monotone colour she saw the other day and the sounds of birds chirping in the forests disant in her ears. The sunlight shone brightly through the window, lighting up the entire room in a warm glow while the survivor prepared herself for the day out to the river and nearby town. Her hand ghosted over the knife that she left in her jeans, pulling it out and staring down at the weapon in her hand with no clear emotion on her face, noticing flecks of dried bloods on the sharp blade. Her thumb ran across the chilled metal, and quickly she shoved it in her back pocket again, walking back out of the room with all that she needed.

Christa and Clementine were eating from a can that they took out of the latter's bag, sharing some with Omid while her brothers shared the can of beans that Dylan took out before. Her stomach growled again, this time louder, and so she plucked the gun she left on the tableside and made her way over to her siblings, silently accepting the can when Dylan offered it to her. She dug in, scooping the beans up and eating it greedily, not realising how hungry she was until the food entered her mouth. There wasn't much left. Disappointed, she stared down the can at the small juice at the bottom, thinking against drinking it and rather placing it down on the coffee table, leaving it for one of the others that were staying behind to clean it up. From the corner of her eye, she could see one of her brother's hands picking the other gun off the table, turning her head to see Dylan standing up from his spot on the chair.

"We should head out soon if we don't wanna waste more daylight." He suggested, turning to Omid as he asked the older man. "You have anything to defend yourself with?"

"Here, Omid. Take this." Christa instructed, grabbing the rifle propped up against the couch and holding it out for her boyfriend to take. When he looked like he was ready to reject it however, she quickly made her point heard as she pointed out sternly. "We have other weapons here to defend the place. I don't want you going out there without something to protect yourself with."

"We should be back before nightfall." Charlotte replied, standing there while Omid took the rifle and hold it in both hands, glancing over at her as she gestured for him and Dylan to follow her. Christa nodded, watching quietly as the trio left the room, while Clementine just stared up at Charlotte with a face that she couldn't quite make out. Whether she was scared, worried or even wanted to go with them, she didn't know, and instead she just turned her back on the other survivors and made her way over to the front door.

Off to the side, she picked up one of the fish traps in her free hand and turned to Dylan. "Grab the other man, will ya?"

"Sure." He shrugged, moving to grab the other one while his sister opened the door, letting Omid and Dylan out of the door first before walking out into the cold. Before she could close the door, she noticed Mason standing awkwardly by the staircase, watching them leave with a unsure look in those bright eyes. Slowly, she offered him a comforting smile and felt that nervousness fade slightly when he returned it. Neither of them exchanged any words, but then they didn't have too. All the time they survived together, that smile was all she needed to let her brother know that everything would be alright, even if she herself didn't know that for sure.

Unwilling to keep the others waiting, she closed the front door gently and released the door knob reluctantly. They would be alright. Christa was there, and from what she saw last night, even Clementine was willing to use that gun she had if push came to shove. They would be fine. She repeated those words mentally while following after Omid and Dylan down the stairs, their feet crunching against the exposed gravel path with the snow as they made started their trip into the trees of the neverending forest. She remained at the back, watching the others' backs while the two lads continued conversing with each other, breaking the ice and starting to get to know the other survivor.

"So, have you ever fired that there rifle?" The young teen asked, staring down at the weapon in the older man's hands with curiosity that was unlike him.

Glancing down at it himself, Omid gave him a wide smirk and replied to his questions. "All the time. I once shot a walker in the head from fifty feet, it was pretty impressive."

"Woah, really? That's awesome!" He gasped in awe, his eyes shooting up to stare at Omid with his eyebrows raised and a grin on his face. The reaction made the grown man's grin widen, and Charlotte couldn't help but smirk, having a feeling in her gut that maybe, he was exaggerating a bit on his marksmanship in order to impress the boy. She wouldn't say anything. It was nice to see him trying to develop a friendship with Dylan, the teenager really needed another man to look up to.

That being said, she couldn't help but have a sneaky little remark come from her lips as she feigned impress, that sly smirk deepening as she spoke up from behind the other survivors. "That so? Well, you can show us that again when we get near town."

Her suggestion caused his smirk to become more sheepish, yet that shift in expression wasn't noticed by Dylan as he glanced up ahead, staring down the road to watch out for anything while Omid shot his older sister a glance, shrugging his shoulders while continuing to lie about his accomplishments to the youngest group member. "I suppose I could teach you a few things. Be careful, this thing might knock you on your ass if you're not ready."

"I can handle it." Dylan shot back, confidence clear in his voice as well as excitement that he would handle something bigger than the pistols he was restricted to by his guardian. Charlotte, while apprehensive with the thought of him handling something as powerful as the rifle, decided to hold her tongue when she saw how genuinely excited he was to learn something new. It was always warming to her heart to see that glint in his eyes, whether he was learning the mechanisms of a car, how to fire a gun, or even when Elizabeth showed him that knee trick with the walkers.

"We'll practice one day, then. For now, just stick with holding the fish trap." Omid suggested, earning a disappointed frown from the teen as he huffed, glancing away and rather looking at the trees slowly passing by them. Charlotte kept quiet, listening to the wind softly blowing through the foliage, the bare branches swaying in the breeze with all the shed leaves soaken and mostly covered by the fallen snow, sticking to the muddy ground while they trodden over them.

With Omid leading them, it wasn't long before they come across a stream flowing through an open part of the forest, the trees running down all sides and hiding any danger that might have lurked within. Creeping out with Omid and Dylan, Charlotte kept a sharp eye out for anything suspicious, staying on watch while her brother and the other man went about setting the fish traps up. Taking the one that she was carrying, Omid placed the rifle of the ground near him, kneeling down by the bank and setting the trap up while Dylan set up his own, able to set the trap up properly while Omid complimented his skills. "You know what you're doing, huh?"

"My dad used to take me on fishing trips with him. Charlie went when I was younger, but she's pretty useless at this stuff." He explained, smirking over his shoulder at his sister while she glared heavily, before turning her head to continue her watch. With the two dealing with the traps, she decided to move further down to the stream to see what was out there, curious yet wary at the same time as she made sure she didn't drift too far from the others. The stream wasn't frozen over, which surprised her as she noticed all the snow that still hadn't melted away in the sunlight, though she would agree that it was warmer than it was the other day.

From where she stood, the distant sound of groaning caught her attention as her head snapped in the direction of the source, her body ready to move if she saw even an inkling of danger. However, when she approached the sound slowly, her nerves calmed down when she saw that it was a paralysed walker. Milky white eyes stared up at her, the undead trying to drag itself towards the survivor with withered arms, its legs broken and bent in unnatural positions that made her stomach churn in disgust. With only one around, Charlotte put her gun away in the pocket of her jacket and instead pulled out her knife, walking over to the walker while it tried to reach out to her, decayed fingers desperate to grab anything to pull her closer to its gnashing jaws.

Kneeling down, she wasted no time in putting it down and shoved the blade through the back of the walker's skull. Blood splattered out of the wound, running down the greyed skin and pooling underneath the stilled body as she pulled her weapon free. Standing back up, she wiped the blade clean on her already dirtied jacket before shoving it back in her back pocket. The smell was almost overwhelming, the stench of rotting flesh causing her to gag quietly and back away, eager to get away from the smell and see what else was around. The other people in her group weren't safe from the undead either, as she realised that when she turned around and saw more walkers stumbling out of the forests around them. Jogging back to her brother, she caught his attention with a loud order.

"Dylan!" She yelled, pausing when she noticed walkers starting to cut her off from the others. "Walkers, look sharp!"

Her yelling did the trick. Looking over his shoulder, the teenager noticed the walking corpses making their way over to where he and Omid was, the latter standing up with his rifle and aiming to shoot one of the incoming walkers. However, Dylan stopped him, muttering something that Charlotte couldn't catch before she was forced to deal with the small group of walkers that were approaching her. Her knife was pulled back out, the young woman holding it defensively while shifting her sights on each of the walkers. The closest one received a kick to the shin, throwing the limb from underneath the walker and causing it to tumble to the ground, unable to get off the ground by much before she shoved the knife in the back of its neck.

As she pulled her weapon free, she had to jump back to avoid another walker lunging for her, falling onto her back when she tripped over. Groaning, she lifted her upper body up, looking at the danger approaching as she pulled herself back, trying to get to her feet again before one of the walkers growled harshly, falling on top of her as her hands shot up instinctively. Gripping the torn shirt the walker was wearing, she grunted in exertion and pushed the walker further away from her, turning her head when nails came scratching at her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed another walker shambling towards her. With her heart hammering in her chest violently, she looked back at the walker on top of her and cursed loudly when she was unable to fully push it off in time.

Just when she thought she was a goner, a gunshot rang through the air and the walker advancing on her collapsed to the ground, a bullet wound gone straight through its forehead. Surprised, she used this chance to hook her foot under the walker's chest and push it upwards, giving her enough room for her hand holding the knife to move, and quickly she pierced the side of its head with the blade. The blood splattered down onto her face, eyes shutting tight to stop any of the rancid liquid from getting into them. The dead weight nearly knocked the wind out of her before she used her foot to push the walker off of her. Breathing heavily, she sat upright slowly, feeling her arms shaking from the exertion and her heart still beating ten to the dozen, unable to slow down even when she tried to force herself to calm down. There was no more danger. They were safe.

"Holy sh*t, Charlie!" Dylan swore, running up to her side and offering her his hand to get up. She accepted it, both of them grunting as he pulled her off the cold ground, before backing away with a worried look on his face. "I thought I didn't get to you in time, then! A-Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah… Boy, that was close." She replied in a low voice, trying to get her breath back as she looked over to an approaching Omid, his rifle still smoking from the shot. An eyebrow raised, she glanced up from the weapon to his face while asking. "That shot back there was you?"

"Can't take all the credit. Dylan here can handle walkers better than a lot of other people I've seen." He shrugged, peeking over his shoulder at what appeared to be the walkers that were approaching them, lying down in the ground dead with discoloured blood staining the ground. Charlotte nodded to that, noticing Dylan smiling with pride at his work as he met her gaze, earning a thankful and proud smile from his older sibling that widened his own. Slowly, she straightened herself up and groaned, feeling a tiredness creeping up before she pushed it back down again.

"Well," she started, gesturing to the fish traps with a half-hearted wave of her hand before returning them to her hips. "We got the traps set up. Might be a good time for you to show us where that town that you were talking about is."

"Oh, yeah. It's not far from here, about an hour's walk tops." Omid explained, gesturing for the other two survivors to follow him as he started crossing the path leading alongside the streams. Dylan quickened his pace, returning to the older man's side while Charlotte once again remained at the back, following after them while leaving the two male survivors to talk to each other again. Softly, she heard Omid cheerfully pipe up to the teenage boy beside him, looking down at him with a grin. "You gotta teach me that trick you did with the walkers. That was awesome."

"My sister taught me it. You just gotta kick them in the knee, and stab them in the head when they're down. It's easy because they're so slow." Dylan explained, trying to appear cool and collected to the other survivor, and yet he was visibly failing when the giddiness over being complimented over his skills got the better of him. The sight of him happily conversing with Omid brought a smile to Charlotte's face, and she found herself grateful that the older man came with them on the trip. He saved her life, and he was bringing Dylan further out of his shell. The teenage boy needed that, especially after the car crash and all the sh*t beforehand.

Her smile fell when she remembered him being the exact same way with Samantha. Without concentrating, it was almost like the deceased woman was there, chatting and laughing away with Dylan while the three of them walked around looking for supplies, pushing away all the fear and the uncertainty for their future. Without grabbing their attention, her fingers ghosted over the gauze that was still taped to her face before she pulled them away, unwilling to let those repressed emotions surface up again. It was not the time for that. So, she just kept walking with them, enjoying the quiet while her brother and Omid joked around and, for once, enjoyed actually being alive.

"You taught them some pretty cool tricks, Charlotte." Omid responded, turning his head to look at the woman behind them. The misunderstanding caused Dylan and Charlotte to share a look, before the younger of the two just looked back ahead, unwilling to speak further on the subject.

"Yeah, erm…" She started, noticing Omid's confusion as she quickly explained his mistake. "It wasn't me who taught him. It was our older sister. Elizabeth."

"Oh, sh*t." He swore, already knowing how her explanation was going to end. There was only one way, Elizabeth wasn't with them, and the reactions to her name caused grieving reactions from the only living members of her family left. There, he decided to leave painful matters be, and instead kept walking in silence. Charlotte did so too, looking up at the trees when she noticed crows flocking around, the caws from the airborne birds echoing down to the ground below, and she wondered what happened to get the animals so worked up like that. Whatever happened, it couldn't have been good news for them.

Either way, they would keep walking in silence, and soon enough Omid went back to talking to Dylan in efforts to move on from his blunder before. The other responded well to that, and so they kept chatting about things that seemed so trivial to Charlotte; football, trucks, stereotypical things that she knew Dylan loved. It made him happy however, and that was good enough for her. Though, she preferred to just walk behind them and let them carry on with that, instead delving into her own thoughts to let the time pass by, waiting until they reached the town that Omid mentioned beforehand. Hopefully, they would find something that would make the trip worthwhile.

Chapter 5: Cabin In The Woods

Weeks had passed. The cold winter winds grew heavier as time passed on, and snow had started to fall the further north Charlotte and her brothers had traveled. Her jacket did some good keeping the cold out, but she was unused to that kind of weather, her teeth chattering as the three of them walked down the highway leading to the city of Charlotte, the place where she last heard her uncle and aunt were staying. The snow crunched under her thick boots, leaving footprints behind her for miles in the other direction, Dylan and Mason standing on both of her sides with their hands stuffed in their pockets, Mason finding an old jacket during their travel up to North Carolina. It wasn't much, but every little helped with their situation.

Peering up, she could see the outline of the city in the distance, eager to get there and start searching for the remainder of her family, or at least people that they could run with. The weeks they had been walking were one of the worst, the things that she seen, the things that her brothers had seen. Dylan wasn't getting any better either, the effects of the car crash still weighing heavily on him, and the cold was not helping anyone. Slowly, he moved over to the barricade, some of it smashed with the car still left behind, the front completely totaled. His movement didn't go unnoticed, and Charlotte paused as she stared at her younger brother sitting down.

"You alright there, buddy?" she asked, making her way over to him whilst Dylan kept quiet. He just stared ahead, trapped in his own thoughts as his twin and older sister glanced nervously at each other, Charlotte turning her head back to stare at him. "You need a break? We can stop for a few minutes…"

He glanced up at her, the doubt and fear clear in his eyes that made her chest tighten, Charlotte standing there as his gaze fell down to the floor, voice quiet as he just muttered. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she replied, sitting down next to him, worried when he couldn't bring himself to look at her. With Dylan just sitting there with a saddened expression on his face, she turned to look over at Mason, the latter standing there with concern clear on his youthful features, hands fiddling with his jacket anxiously. After sitting there for around a minute, Dylan finally sighed under his breath.

"I don't know. It hurts, but it's not like physical pain. I mean, it is, but…" He paused, starting to get annoyed with how difficult it was to explain what was wrong. Charlotte somewhat understood what he was trying to get across to her, waiting patiently as the younger teen collected his thoughts and tried again. "I just want these thoughts to go away. I don't want to be this angry all the time, but I can't stop thinking that maybe… it's my fault we're in this mess."

"Why would you think that?" Charlotte gasped in shock, placing a hand on Dylan's shoulder, frowning when he tensed up, before she ignored the reaction and comforted him, her voice soft and gentle with her little brother. "Hey… It's not your fault, okay? We're here, we're alive, that's all that matters."

"I was the one who crashed the car! I coulda killed all of us!" He snapped, shaking Charlotte's hand off his shoulder as he stood up, moving past Mason before pausing in his tracks, staring off at the city in the distance. Charlotte sat there, allowing her to fall onto her lap whilst she stared at Dylan's back, standing up when Mason turned to her and silently urged her to try and talk to him. Both of them could see that their brother was losing it. After everything, it was starting to get to the older woman as well.

Feet crunched in the freshly fallen snow, her breath misting in front of her face as she breathed out, walking over to Dylan as he refused to look back at her, shoulders sagged and head just staring ahead. Her hand lifted to hover over his shoulder, almost hesitant after his reaction last time, before she slowly placed it on his shoulder. Dylan stood there, not making any move to shrug it off. Rather, he glanced up at Charlotte with reddened eyes, moving closer to his sister as he wrapped his arms around her, desperate for some form of contact to soothe his troubled thoughts. She allowed him to hold her tightly, placing a hand on top of his head as they stood there.

Everything was silent. The cold winter wind blew down the highway, chilling all the survivors there to their bones. Mason shivered violently, hugging his jacket closer to his body in an attempt to fight off the cold, and even Charlotte herself was feeling the frost on her back. After a few moments, she listened as he whispered, the broken sound in his words gripping at her heart. "This is all my fault…"

"It's more my fault than yours, buddy." She joked, trying to bring his mood up as she pointed out. "I was the one who grabbed the wheel. It was pretty much me who crashed the car."

"I know you're only saying that to make me feel better but… thanks." He mumbled, smiling softly when he separated himself from Charlotte, the taller survivor staring down at her brother with a tender look on her face. Affectionately, she ruffled his hair before starting to walk again, her brothers glancing at each other with warm smiles before following after her. Mason appeared by her side, the other twin hanging back behind them whilst they walked, all enjoying the silence after comforting the injured teenager.

Some of the cars left abandoned on the highway were covered in snow, a thick sheet of white on the roof of the vehicles, anyone unfortunate enough to be left in the cars long frozen to death, returning as walkers that growled weakly as the living passed by. Mason kept his gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at the blank eyes staring back at them, hands shoved into his pockets in a vain attempt to get warm. Charlotte glanced over at some of the cars, the light weight in her bag reminding her of how little supplies they had left. If they didn't find something soon, they would go hungry that night.

So, she decided to inspect the cars left behind in some hope that there was leftover supplies. In fact, she would take anything at that point, but knowing that the city isn't far, likely with some supplies left for them to scavenge, she held onto that hope too. Walking over to a dark blue four seater, she peered inside to see if anything, or anyone, was left behind. When she saw nothing, she turned to go to the back, trying to open the boot with a deep grunt, the frozen metal creaking as she managed to push it open. However, when looking inside, she couldn't stop the disappointment from becoming clear on her tired features, finding nothing of use in the car boot.

"f*ckin' figures." She groaned under her breath, leaving it open as she walked away from it. Mason and Dylan stood there in the snow, staring as their guardian continued to look through any vehicle to find something they could use, and when she backed away again with a worried look in her eyes, they glanced nervously at each other, concerned for not only their future, but their sister's mental wellbeing as well. If there was any time that Charlotte wished there were other people helping her, it was then.

She paused, hands on hips as she thought carefully about what they were going to do, lips pursed before she just growled in annoyance, hoping deeply that the car she was walking towards were different from all the others. However, when she reached the front passenger seat, a loud growl and hands smacking on the glass caused her to jump back in fright, her heart hammering before she forced herself to calm down. It was trapped in the car. Breathing deeply, she neared the window again, cautious in case somehow the walker got free, or there were more hidden away.

"It looks like they crashed." Dylan pointed out, appearing by Charlotte's side as he stared at the walker inside, sympathy washed over his face as he added in a low voice. "The driver just left them behind…"

"It might have been too late to save them." She sighed, noticing that the driver's door was in fact open, the seat empty, and couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor person that was left behind. Slowly, she walked over to the other side, looking through the open door to see what was inside. Quickly, she heard the door opposite her open, eyes glancing up to see that Dylan had opened the passenger door and, with a knife in hand, pierced the blade deep into the walker's eye socket, killing it instantly.

Grunting, he pulled it out roughly, the head lurching forward with the force before lying back against the seat, falling to the side so that she could clearly see the deep wound in its eye. With the danger taken cared of, she searched through the car, opening the glove compartment to find only a driver's license, some papers, and a small bag of something. Raising an eyebrow, she grabbed the bag and stood up, looking at it before she realised what it was. Softly, she heard Mason walk towards her, asking her about what was in her hand. "What's that?"

"It's, erm… It's weed." She chuckled, pocketing the find as she coughed, looking away when her brothers shot her a judging look. Instead, she decided to change the subject, walking down along the highway. "We ain't gonna find much here, so let's keep going. We're almost there."

"Do you know where in Charlotte our family is?" Mason asked, jogging up to her side before looking up at her, quickly glancing at the incoming city with a worried frown. "Did Dad ever, I don't know, tell you before all this?"

"I wasn't really around much, buddy, and I'm not on the best terms with Aunt Abigail. I'm gonna be honest, if there was anyone who knew where they lived, it was Liz." She confessed, face falling when her deceased sibling was mentioned. When she noticed Mason becoming fearful of their future, she flashed him a comforting smile, ruffling his hair affectionately as she chuckled. "Don't worry about it. We'll find them."

"I hope so…" He muttered, before falling silent when they reached the outskirts of the city. It was eerie how silent their surroundings were, but Charlotte knew that all could change quickly, and so she turned to face Mason and Dylan, kneeling down so that she was eye-level with the twins.

"Listen," she started, her voice adopting a serious tone that made the young teenagers frown deeply, glancing up at the city behind her before listening. "We don't know how bad things are here, but it's likely to be pretty bad. We try and find our family, but if things get too hot, or there's a risk that you guys get injured or worse, we will leave this city and try to find somewhere else, alright?"

The boys nodded in response, earning a genuine smile from their sister as she stood up again. "Good. Stay close, don't make too much noise, and we should be alright. I'll keep you guys safe."

After instructing them on what to do, she turned back around and started making their way into the city, eager to reunite with the last of their family. The streets were empty. Snow that had fallen covered in dirt and footprints, long before the small group had arrived. The highway they followed led them deeper and deeper into the city, the forests that surrounded the roads slowly disappearing as homes replaced them, long left abandoned by the people that lived in them at one time. Likely picked clean, searching them bore nothing of use to Charlotte, and so she just kept walking. The bits that were left behind were taken by the small group, yet they were only scraps. It worried her. However, she kept a brave face on, even if it were to help her brothers rather than her.

The intrusive thoughts returned once more. She couldn't help but feel like she was failing her family, that if she remained in the group maybe they wouldn't be in this mess. They would have food, protection, and it hurt knowing just how truly alone she was. Staring down at Mason's exhausted face, his once pudgy cheeks flattening with the lack of food and stress getting to him, she hid her fear well, but if there was anyone who could see through the facade she put up, it would be him. Dylan however, just remained oblivious to it all, rather staring at the houses that passed them by.

"I never thought I'd see a city this quiet…" he mumbled to her. She just nodded in response, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. When she looked behind them, she could see their footprints clear in the snow, wondering how long it would before the winter winds blew them away, wiping away any sign that they were once there. Before she could look back to where she was walking, something caught her foot and sent the survivor flying, the air in her lungs being knocked out when she collapsed in the snow with a heavy thud.

Her brothers were by her side quickly. Dylan's hand gripped her upper arms, helping her up as exhaustion and hunger forced her to remain, being pushed away enough that she could get back to her shaking feet. From the other side of her, she heard Mason panicking over her. "Charlie, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She sighed, brushing the snow off her jacket before giving the younger survivors a comforting smile. "I'm fine. I just tripped over… something."

She looked down at the snow, confused on what it was that caught her foot, and when she realised what it was her hand moved to in front of the approaching Dylan, keeping him firmly where he stood. It was no log or stone or even a broken part of the many crashed and destroyed vehicles. Rather, it was a frozen hand, the owner of the limb shifted from the thick blanket of snow when Charlotte tripped over it. The fingers curled inwards, the rotting flesh and stiff bones caught by rigor mortis and set like it was in stone. The face was half chewed, the remaining flesh left to be frozen in the frosty conditions, and all anyone in the trio could say was Charlotte's quiet. "Jesus…"

"I guess others weren't so lucky as us." Dylan pointed out grimly, crossing his arms while staring down at the body. Charlotte couldn't handle looking at it anymore, feeling vomit building up in her stomach as she looked away.

"Come on." She started, guiding her siblings away from the scene and back down the road, her voice a quiet whisper as she continued. "I'm starting to think it was a mistake coming here."

"We're still alive. That's gotta count for something." Mason replied, a weak smile on his face that fell when he saw his sister not improving. It was all tiring. Snow being shoved out of the way with their shoes, the biting wind and the stinging hunger in their bellies, the backpack feeling uncomfortably light on her shoulder, she thought she could just take it and move on like all those other times. She was wrong.

With her brothers behind her, she paused when Mason suggested. "It's starting to get colder. Maybe we can hole up in one of these houses?"

Glancing to where he was pointing, she saw nothing but boarded up and abandoned houses, the vehicles in the driveways either gone or scrapped for parts. Nothing about them looked promising, and before she could give her answer, she heard Mason quickly turn his tone to a frightened mutter. "Oh sh*t…"

Turning away from the houses, Charlotte immediately spotted what her brother did and stopped in her tracks, staring straight ahead with widened eyes and her brothers moving closer to her, scared kids looking for their guardian to protect them. In the distance, groups of walkers larger than she ever seen patrolled the streets in the inner city, no way through being clear from where they stood. The harsh truth hit her like a tonne of bricks, the feeling in her twisted stomach worsening when she heard Dylan sadly ask her. "We aren't gonna find them, are we?"

"No, buddy." She confessed, lowering her head in grief while the other two just stared at the horde from the safe distance, glancing at each other while Charlotte just inhaled deeply, lifting her head as she adopted a more serious look on her face. "We can't stay here. This city's lost, the best thing for us now is going back to the countryside."

"Where are we gonna go? There's not much in the countryside, and we're running low on food." Mason sighed worryingly, rubbing the upper part of his arm through his thick jacket while he looked away from the horde. Charlotte said nothing to that, causing the younger boy to frown deeply and added. "We'll be fine. I'm sure… we'll find something, yeah? We always had."

"We aren't gonna find anything just standing here. Let's go." Dylan pointed out, walking down one of the streets that lead back out of the city. Charlotte followed after him, letting the teenager to lead the group for a while while she and Mason just walked side by side, neither of them saying anything as the winds picked up. Lifting up the hood of Samantha's jacket, she could still feel the frost penetrate through the fabric, all the clothes that she was wearing just feeling cold. Hands shoved in pockets, trying to keep warm, she watched as Mason moved closer to her, the both of them braving the winter winds while Dylan kept to the front.

The cold not only affected them. Out of the winds, she could see a walker standing there, its movements sluggish and awkward while Dylan moved closer to it. With his knife pulled out of his jeans pocket, he glanced down at the walker's bent legs and paused, before glaring at the reanimated corpse and delivered a swift kick to its knee, backing up when the walker fell to the ground with a dull thud. Before it could try to grab him, the twin shoved the blade in the back of its head, wincing when the blood splattered onto the snow as he pulled it free. Staring down at it, he took in a deep breath as Charlotte and Mason walked to his side, before glancing up at his older sister with a mumble. "Hit the knees. I remember… just like Liz showed me."

"That's good, buddy." She praised, earning a smile from Dylan before she looked down the never ending road. "Come on. We gotta find shelter before nightfall. It's gonna be cold tonight."

The trio continued their journey. Through the winds and the snow, she glanced as the city behind them grew smaller and smaller, anyone who was even alive in there being left behind as they continued to look for somewhere to settle down. Her stomach growled while she walked, her hands pressing against it in an attempt to control the twisting pain. Her feet started to drag, pulling the snow with each step until her footsteps turned into shallow trenches following after them. A single car caught her attention, and so she moved over in one last attempt to find something that would help them. Peering through, she couldn't stop the pity from coming across her face when she noticed a body leaning against the dashboard, the head turned so that glassy eyes stared at her.

"Holy sh*t…" She mumbled under her breath, trying the car door to see that it was unlocked. A sigh of relief passed her lips, Charlotted pulled the car door open slowly, listening at the frozen mental creaking with the movement. Inside, she could feel the interior of the car being just as cold as outside, the heater in the car shot and the engine having frozen over, the front of the car totaled into the barrier as well. Glancing back up at the body, she noticed that the body wasn't at all decayed, rather the skin a dull grey and the blood having dried around the head wound.

"He still looks… like he could be alive." Mason pointed out, appearing behind Charlotte as she shuffled into the car. Opening up the glove compartment, she rummaged through the papers and rubbish, before her fingers brushed against something metal. Gripping it, she pulled out what was revealed to be a pistol, looking down at her find with a slight frown. It wasn't food, but it did help having something to defend herself with.

Looking over her shoulder, she passed the pistol to Mason, watching as he took it with a grim look on his face. Quietly, she explained to him. "You need it to protect yourself. Remember what I taught you."

"Aim for the head. I know…" He responded, keeping hold of the gun while his sister went back to checking the car. The back of the seats and footwells had nothing of use that she could find, and slowly she pulled back into the passenger seat, staring at the corpse as a thought ran through her head. With her hands gripping the body's clothes, she pulled it across the seats until it was lying across both of them. Any pocket that he had, she searched thoroughly, and soon she found loose ammo and a knife that the deceased survivor had kept in his thick winter coat, Charlotte taking the coat as well.

With the knife shoved in the back of her jeans, she turned to the others with the winter coat in hand, smiling at them as she offered. "It's only gonna get colder. Dylan, you look like you need it the most outta all of us."

It was true. Looking down at his tattered and worn jacket, he conceded to what she was saying and moved towards her, taking the coat that she offered and slipped it on, zipping it up to better protect himself from the biting frost. The coat was two sizes too big for him, but the boy still had some growing to do. Hopefully, he could find use for it in the future as well as the present. With him taken cared of, Charlotte turned back to the corpse, pausing when Mason softly grumbled. "We're not taking his clothes, are we?"

"I get that it's weird and pretty disrespectful to the dead, but we need something to stop us from freezing to death. We're alive, we need this more than he does." Charlotte pointed out, taking the thick bandana that was wrapped around the body's neck and wrapping it around her own. She understood where Mason was coming from, taking all the poor guy's things felt like a dickish move to her, but she pushed that away by excusing that she needed it. They needed it.

While she was pulling the bandana over her face, she heard Dylan calling to them from behind the car. "Charlie, come see this!"

She raised an eyebrow at that, leaving Mason to slip on some gloves that he took onto his freezing hands. At the back, she noticed the boot having been lifted, and Dylan standing there, a faint smile on his face as he backed away, letting her look in as he continued. "There's stuff here that'll help us."

He was right. In the boot, Charlotte stared at a couple of boxes that was packed with supplies. Bottles of water, canned goods, she even spotted a lonely CD case on the bottom of the boot and scooped it up, noticing that it was full of spanish music. Her lips pulled upwards in a smile, recalling the beautiful music that her mother played while cleaning up their home, the songs what Charlotte napped to when she was just a baby, and Mason and Dylan were raised on after her. Shrugging her backpack off, she plopped it on the boot and started to shove the supplies they found into it, spotting Dylan doing the same thing with his backpack beside her. Keeping the CD safe for later, she grabbed all that she could carry. Rummaging through the boxes, she came across some batteries in it, glancing down at them in her hand before turning to Mason, the teen making his way over to them while rubbing his gloved hands.

"Hey, bud?" She started, moving away from the boot with the batteries. Mason paused, looking at her hand as she grabbed hold of his, dropping the batteries in his with a warm smile. "For your walkman, yeah? We found some more CDs that mama loved."

"Awesome. Thanks, Charlie." He grinned, pulling the older survivor into a tight hug that she returned, allowing her hand to rest on the top of his head as she felt his soft locks of hair under her fingertips. Moving away, she turned back to her backpack while he shoved the batteries in his pocket, and looked into the box to see what else they could take. Slowly, she pulled out a woolie hat, the fabric worn but otherwise wearable, and so she slipped it over her head. Covering her freezing ears, she was thankful for that small protection they had, bundling up her hair to shove into the hat.

"There's not loads here." She heard Dylan point out, before he quickly added with a happier tone. "But it'll last until we find somewhere we can stay, right?"

"Right. We'll find a house, with a nice fireplace." Charlotte started, finishing up packing the food into her bag before zipping it back up, throwing it over her shoulder and walking away from the car. Having found every that would help them, the two brothers followed after her, listening with a wistful look as she continued. "We can have the fire going during the night. Have nice beds to sleep on… we just gotta get through this and then we'll be set."

"We'll be safe there, won't we?" Mason asked, staring down the long road with his smile fading slightly. Charlotte glanced down at him, recalling driving past her own friends, their frozen faces flashing at the back of her mind before she pushed them away, trying to forget the sight of teeth gnawing away at their flesh. She would try to forget about them. They weren't her friends. Looking back, she felt her heart constrict when she realised that she thought they were. Those months surviving, walking along those deserted roads with Samantha and Joshua and Nathan, enjoying those laughs at the camp fire, those nights huddling with Sam in their sleeping bag.

She wanted them to stop being her friends. She wanted that pain, that loss, to just disappear, but it wouldn't. They were her friends. That just made the reality of what she did worse to stomach.

"Yeah. No one will bother us anymore. We got each other, that's all that matters now." She replied softly, wrapping one of her hands around Mason's shoulders and bringing him closer. There, they walked through the cold, howling winds with their hands together, making sure none of them were lost to the blistering blizzard.

Hours passed, and the group turned off the road into the nearby forest. Pine trees, branches burdened with blankets of heavy snow creaking under the weight, the towering plantlife looming over the survivors as they made their way across the worn path, their footprints the only indent in the smooth snow. Untouched. With the trees protecting them from the bulk of the blizzard, the winds started to slowly die down once more, allowing Charlotte to see more of her surroundings. Her legs cramped terribly, and she could feel the exhaustion hit her as the weather constantly wore her down. Walking along, she was slowing down, she could feel it, and soon enough, she took one wrong step and slipped on some of the snow, tumbling down to the ground with a loud thud.

Mason and Dylan stopped in their tracks, turning back to help Charlotte while she struggled to even push herself off the ground. The snow bit into her exposed fingers, her breath misting in front of her face as she breathed heavily, and with her brothers' help, she was able to get back to her feet, legs shaking with tiredness settling into her muscles. From her left, she could hear Mason frantically ask her. "Charlie, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah… I'm just tired. That's all." She brushed off, looking down at his worried face with a weak smile. "Don't worry."

"I think I see something over there." Dylan suddenly revealed, walking away from the others with his hand over his squinted eyes. Charlotte followed his gaze, an eyebrow raised quizzically before she realised that it was a cabin. The lone building stood in the middle of an opening, a shed not far from the front porch. Dylan, curious to what could be there, walked further away from the others to get a better view. Unnerved with how quiet it was, Charlotte jogged over to his side and held down on the teenager's shoulder gently.

Glancing up at her, he frowned while she muttered. "Stick close. We don't know if this place is as deserted as it looks."

"How'd you know when somewhere safe to check out?" He asked, watching as she took the pistol from Mason and took lead of the group. With the trio creeping out of the bushes like a couple of nervous deer, Charlotte kept her eyes forward, staring up at the front door with a lump building up in the back of her throat.

Swallowing it down, she kept her stare while answering Dylan's answer with a serious tone. "You don't."

"Well, that's reassuring." He shot back sarcastically, following her lead as the eldest of the group moved quickly towards the stairs leading up to the porch and front door. Pausing, she glanced up and spotted a window, trying to see if anyone was in there, although the curtains blocked much of the view. Kneeling back down, she tightened her grip on the pistol and took the first step, wincing at how loud the wood creaked under her weight. Still, she kept creeping up the stairs until she reached the top, looking over at the front door with her lips pulled into a thin line.

Mason and Dylan kept back, leaving Charlotte to stand up and walk over to the door slowly, her hand stretched out towards the door knob. When she grabbed it, she jiggled it a few times, smiling slightly when she found that the door was actually unlocked, pushing the door open with a chuckle. "That was easier than I expected."

"Woah, this place is pretty cosy." Dylan whistled, walking in before Charlotte with Mason keeping his distance, showing more caution than his twin with the new environment. Charlotte looked down at him, keeping quiet when she noticed him finally braving it and following after the other teen slowly, before she too entered the cabin. Down the hall, she could hear Dylan call to her. "The bedrooms down here are clear!"

"This place looks empty." She muttered to herself, kicking the door shut behind her to stop the cold from getting in. Out of the snow and the frost, she rubbed her hands together in a desperate attempt to warm the frozen digits back up, having shoved her weapon in her pocket to keep a hold of. Shuffling further down the hall, she paused at the beginning of the staircase and glanced upstairs, knowing that it was important for them to check up there in case anyone was hiding away up there. With her brothers checking around in the rooms downstairs, she decided to look upstairs and quickly jogged up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

At the top, she paused when she noticed a sign in the shape of a fish on the wall, just beside a closed door. With her hand pulling the pistol out again, she reached out with her other hand, fingers brushing against the door knob before she wrenched the door open. Gun pointed at any danger that would lurk behind the door, she released the breath she didn't even know she was holding, seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the bedroom. Lowering the weapon, she sighed in relief and closed the bedroom door again. Turning her attention to the hallway pass the stairs, she walked down and paused in front of another door, taking in a deep breath as she moved to open that door as well.

Pulling it open more slowly, she aimed the gun inside, glancing around what appeared to be the bathroom. This time, she moved into the room, leaving the door open as she looked around. The cabinet over the sink grabbed her attention, Charlotte moving over to the sink and opening the cabinet to see what was inside. Although she knew better than to hope, it was still hard to stop that feeling of disappointment when she found hardly anything left in there. A small pin cushion rested on the bottom shelf, a single needle in it that the survivor left well alone, and without anything else that was much interest, she closed the cabinet again and decided to leave the bathroom alone.

Exiting it, she left the door open and turned her attention to the last room of the cabin. When she opened the door, all that Charlotte was greeted with was an empty room. No signs of anyone living here in months could be seen. The covers on the bed were pulled back, left unmade by whoever was last there, and were freezing to the touch when Charlotte pulled the covers back over, making the bed again before turning her attention to the bed stand beside it. A small book was left there, the thick hardback catching her eye as she picked it up. It reminded her of those fantasy books that Dylan enjoyed reading, and so she placed it back down on the side table for him to find later on. Outside the window, she could see the light fading, the grey clouds blocking out the sun but the dying sunrays clear to see.

"Best get a fire going." She hummed, shoving the gun back in her pocket and exiting the bedroom, closing the door behind her. From where she was standing, she heard quiet laughter and paused, recognising her brothers' voices immediately, and the sound of them relaxing brought a smile to her face. Quickly, she reached the staircase and walked down it, peering over the banister to see Dylan and Mason sitting on the floor with a chess board between them, the two teens taking turns to move their pieces.

At the bottom of the stairs, she heard Dylan call out to her. "Look what we found, Charlie!"

"I saw. It's pretty cool that you guys found something to entertain yourselves." She replied fondly, making her way over to the fireplace while the younger survivors carried on with their game. Kneeling in front of it, she grunted softly as she pulled the doors open, letting the soot out and causing her to cough roughly when she accidentally inhaled some of it. Waving a hand in front of her face, she grumbled harshly. "Woah, smokey."

"I found a bag of chopped logs in the closet." Mason revealed, pointing at a bag that he left on the couch before returning to his game. Following where he was pointing, she spotted the bag and reached over for it, dragging it off the couch and back over to where the fireplace was. Patting down her pockets, she grumbled curses under her breath when she couldn't find the lighter that she kept, wondering where it could have gone to.

Standing up, she shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, a groan of annoyance coming from her as she snapped quietly. "f*ckin' figures."

"What's up?" Dylan asked, pausing in his game while glancing up at his sister.

Removing her hands, she instead placed them on her hips as she shook her head. "I think I dropped my lighter or something. I dunno…"

"Wait." He replied, standing up quickly while his hand dove into his coat pocket. Charlotte stood there, an eyebrow raised until she realised he pulled out a lighter, her lighter. Taking it off him, she listened as he added. "I picked it up from that guy's car. Thought it's be useful."

"Thanks, buddy." She chuckled, rubbing the top of his affectionately before turning her attention back to the fireplace. Kneeling down in front of it, she looked to her side as Dylan kneeled beside her, clearly eager to learn how to start the fire while she just let him be. Lighter in hand, she grabbed a log from the bag and tossed it in, the heavy object forcing a cloud of ash to float up after it landed on the bottom of the fireplace. Anything she could find was sued as kindling, some papers that were left scattered on the coffee table in her hand as she flicked the lighter open.

The flame burst to life as she rolled the stone under her thumb, Charlotte bringing the paper to the lighter and watched as it all went up in flames, quickly shoving it in with the logs in hope that it would catch fire. Luck was on her side, the flames consuming the logs and growing quickly in size, the heat coming from it welcome on her frozen skin. Lowering the bandana, she left the neckwear around her neck and shoved another log in with the other, before backing away and allowing the heat to flood into that part of the room. Dylan remained by it, warming up his hands while his brother joined him, abandoning the game of chess for warmth instead. Charlotte, meanwhile, retired to the couch and sat down with a relieved sigh, removing her bag and letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud.

"Alright, guys." She started, grabbing the attention of the teenage boys when they turned to face her, backs to the fire as she continued to explain, her face more serious. "It's starting to get into the depths of winter now. This cabin is pretty secluded, but we gotta be careful in case the owners decide to come back any time."

"Can we stay here, then?" Mason asked, glancing at his brother as the other urged him on, obviously wanting to stay at the cabin just as much as the other did. "This place is pretty abandoned. The kitchen's been picked clean, and it doesn't look like anyone's been here for months."

"We'll have proper beds for once, and the fire will make the place less cold in the winter." Dylan joined in, adding with a more serious tone in his voice when he saw Charlotte unnerved by something. "We're armed. We can defend ourselves if we need to! We found this, why can't we enjoy this, Charlie?"

With her hand in front of her mouth, Charlotte leaned into it while thinking deeply. Her brothers were right. The cabin was warm, they would have bed rather than the uncomfortable sleeping bags, and it's been so long since they had a proper roof over their heads. But there was no food, no water and she always had that niggling thought in the back of her mind that someone's gonna stumble across this and try to take it from them. Eventually, she decided on what they were gonna do, removing her hand from the front of her mouth and sighed. "Y'all are right. It'll be safer here than on the road, and we don't have to worry about waking up with snow on our heads."

"So, we can stay?" Mason asked, hope clear in his voice as his smile widened at Charlotte's nod of approval, the two teenage boys glancing at each other as he laughed. "Awesome! I get the bedroom down here!"

"Hey, I wanted that one!" Dylan shot back, the two bickering over the room when Charlotte just cleared her throat.

"I get the downstairs bedroom." She started, quickly cutting off any shouts of protest with an amused tone. "I'm the oldest, I'm the one who said we could stay, and if anyone tries to get into the cabin at night, when we're all sleeping, my room's the closest one to stop them. Trust me, y'all are safer upstairs."

"I guess that's true." Dylan conceded, glancing up at the uncovered window as he spotted the darkening sky, turning back to Charlotte as he softly asked her. "What're we gonna do for food?"

"There's gotta be some useful stuff in the shed. I'll head out and check it, you two will stay here and keep an eye out." She ordered, standing up slowly from the couch as she groaned in pain, feeling her worn and tired limbs protesting at being forced to move from the comfortable furniture. Regardless, she got to her feet, and grabbing a flashlight that one of the boys likely left on the coffee table, she walked over to the front door. Mason and Dylan kept put at the fire, the teenagers too cold and too tired to move from the warmth to follow after their sibling, and she left them be.

Opening the door, she braced herself as a wall of frost hit her full force, her chest constricting as she took in a shivering breath of air that burned her throat, and quickly she left the cabin and shut the door behind her, trapping any of the heat within. From her spot on the porch, she couldn't make out any walkers that had stumbled away from the roads into the forests, and slowly made her way down the stairs onto the snow covered path. Crunching noises under her boots, she paused to glance around, using the light of the torch in her hand to see if anything was sneaking up on them, and when she spotted nothing was when she continued on towards the lone shed slightly down to the left of the cabin. The winds had died down, thankfully, and yet the temperature was still low, Charlotte's breath misting in front of her face and her teeth chattering while her whole body shook, trying to keep what little body heat it had left.

Hopefully, she could grab whatever was in the shed and return to the warm cabin, ready to settle down for the night.

The shed was old, really old. The wood had started to rot, the smell causing Charlotte to wrinkle up her nose, but she just pulled up her bandana to try to ignore it before opening the doors. The snow bundled up as she tried to open the doors however, causing her to grunt while she used her whole weight to open it up, and soon enough there was enough space for her to slip through. The inside of the shed wasn't any less decrepit than the outside, with few tools being left behind on the tool rack and an abandoned tool box left in the back of shed. The first thing she spotted, Charlotte moved past barrels that were empty to reach the tool box, kneeling down in front of it while placing the torch on the ground.

Lifting the lid up, she sighed in disappointment at he lack of supplies inside, picking up a roll of fishing wire and giving it the once over before she shoved it in her pocket, muttering to herself as she closed the tool box again. "I guess we could find some use for that."

She could feel the cold seeping into her knees, the grown woman quickly standing up as she grabbed hold of the flashlight once more, using the light to see what else was of importance. Only a hammer and a saw was left on the tool rack, the dust having gathered on them with the other tools nowhere to be seen, only leaving behind the slots where they once fitted in. There was nothing much in there. At least they had the cabin, and Charlotte took solace in that as she made her way back to the doors, pausing when her foot connected with something solid on the floor, causing her to lean forward slightly and curse loudly. "f*ck it! What the sh*t was that?!"

Shining the flashlight on it, she sucked in a harsh breath through her teeth while her foot throbbed in pain, but what she found caused her to stare with a smirk across her face. They were fish traps, contraptions of wood and wire that she remembered her uncle having, using those things when he went on his annual fishing trips with her father. Only once did she go, and it wasn't the best trip she had, but seeing those traps again gave her relief over the problem with food. Quickly, she shoved the flashlight underneath her armpit, holding it awkwardly while she grabbed hold of the two traps. They were pretty heavy, and large as well, so she shuffled out of the shed in a slow and awkward gait, kicking the shed door closed with her foot before making her way back to the cabin.

In the distance, she could hear faint growling and felt her pace quicken before the walkers noticed she was there. She didn't want to deal with them that night. Taking two steps at a time on the stairs, she paused at the front door and dropped the traps, taking the flashlight from her armpit and turned it off, shoving it in her pocket before opening the door, calling into the cabin while picking up the traps once more. "It's just me, guys!"

"Did you find anything in the shed?" Dylan asked, appearing around the corner down the hall and stayed there, watching as Charlotte stumbled into the cabin and kicked the door shut, dropping the fish traps before nudging them to the side of the door. The cabin hallway was dimly lit with candles, the small flames flickering and giving off faint light in the midst of darkness.

Staring at some of the candles near the door, she listened while her brother continued in wonder. "Aren't they those things that Dad used on our fishing trips?"

"Yep. We passed a river coming into the forest, so first light, I'm taking these down there and see if we can catch some food." She explained, feeling the wire in her pocket as she added. "Found some wire too. Hope your dislike of fish stopped since the start of all this."

"The way I've been these past few weeks, I'll eat anything." He shot back, a smirk on his lips that she returned, before he slowly asked her while staring down at the fish traps. "When you go to the river tomorrow, can I come too?"

His request caused Charlotte to pause, an unsure look on her face while she thought it over. Meanwhile, Dylan waited for her answer patiently, staring up at her once more with pleading eyes, and when she sighed quietly, his face fell as he assumed the worst. However, she surprised her brother with a nod of her head. "Y'all need to learn how to catch your own food if anything happens to me, but don't expect this all the time. I don't like leaving Mason here on his own."

"We can't exactly leave the cabin unguarded. Someone might come and start going through all our sh*t, Mason can take care of himself… I guess." He pointed out, shrugging his shoulders while Charlotte just shook her head slowly, crossing her arms over her chest before watching him turn on his foot and walk back into the living room. "Come on, we opened some of the canned food for dinner."

She followed after him, removing the bandana from in front of her face and lowered her hood, shrugging the jacket off of her body and tossing it so that the clothing laid across the back of the couch, the woman no longer needing it with the fire having warmed up the room. Mason continued to sit near it, having shedded his coat, thin jacket and his gloves with all of them bundled in a pile nearby, rather the teenage boy eating beans out of a can slowly. He noticed Charlotte approaching them, the older survivor sitting down on the end of the couch and accepting the can when he offered it to her, starting to eat out of it while he glanced down at her bag.

"We're lucky to have found that car, but the food isn't gonna last forever. We have enough canned stuff to last for a week at most, and that's with rationing it all." He pointed out, looking over at Dylan while he enjoyed a bag of jerky that he took from the bag. "Did you find anything in the shed, Charlie?"

"I found some fish traps," She replied, her mouth full of beans that she attempted to swallow quickly, nearly choking on them as she coughed loudly before forcing them down. Gathering herself, she paused in her eating and looked over at the still eating Dylan, continuing with a quietened voice. "Dylan and I are gonna go to the river that we passed tomorrow with them. I need you to stay here."

"By myself?" Mason mumbled in a scared tone, staring at his sibling with a worried expression that she couldn't help but returned. She knew that he was scared. She was just as scared for him, but she had to make sure that the younger boy knew why it was like this.

"We won't be long. I just can't leave this place empty for some other guy to come and rob us blind. I'll give you the gun, and the place will be locked." She comforted, unable to stop the worry from building up in her stomach when Mason just looked down at his lap, unwilling to say anything as she added softly. "When we set up the trap, we'll head straight back. I'll be an hour at most."

"We can't keep relying on Charlie to protect us, Mason." Dylan added, glaring in the distance when he continued in a bitter tone. "We gotta grow up. Liz showed us how to defend ourselves, and we need the food."

"Yeah… Yeah, you're right." Mason conceded, nodding briefly before looking at his sister with a smile. "Don't worry. You can count on me."

She smiled back, and when she saw how quickly it had gotten out of the window, she finished what little food was left in the can and plopped it down on the table. Her back and legs ached when she stood up again, popping the joints in her shoulders and her spine with a satisfied hum, her arms falling to her sides while she moved closer to the window. Peering outside, she couldn't see anything in the dense blanket of darkness, and she felt some uneasiness with the knowledge that the undead were shuffling around out there, as well as more unsavoury dangers. At least, she could relax knowing that her group were no longer coming after him. It was just her and her brothers.

Backing away, she started blowing out the candles and whispering to the boys. "Finish up your dinner and head to bed. We're leaving at first light."

"Okay. Goodnight, Charlie." Dylan replied quietly, the rustling of his jerky bag being hear briefly before he threw the garbage on the table to be cleaned up tomorrow. Mason said nothing, but when he stood up with his brother, he shuffled over to where Charlotte was extinguishing the rest of the candles in the living room and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her for a little while as she in turn wrapped her own arms around him. The two stayed like that for a few seconds, before she moved away.

"Get some sleep, buddy. I'll be just down here." She muttered, ruffling his hair affectionately as he nodded in response, walking away from her with his footsteps creaking in the dark. She continued to listen to the sounds until they were upstairs, Charlotte going on to lock the front door with the flashlight out of her pocket and in her hand, the grown woman pausing when the sound of footsteps above ceased.

She waited for a moment, listening in case the sounds returned, and when they did not she decided to retire for the night. The last thing that she did was extinguish the fireplace, smothering the flames until all that remained were hot ash and embers, and the doors were shut tight. The absence of the fire could immediately be felt, Charlotte shivering quietly as she shuffled over to the door leading into the downstairs bedroom. The metal doorknob was freezing to the touch, her hand retracting for a moment like it was burnt, before she opened the door slowly, the sound of the creaking object echoing in the empty space. The inside of the bedroom was somewhat small, the double bed pressed up against the wall with some space on either side to climb into it.

Moving past the wardrobe and the desk, she paused when she noticed a photo of a duck on the wall opposite the bed, staring up at it while she mumbled. "Reminds me of hunting season. I wonder if the walkers got the ducks. Maybe not, they're not very good swimmers… or flyers."

Leaving the picture alone, she placed the torch on the bedside table and moved to close the curtains, stopping the light from attracting the walkers from the depths of the forests surrounding them. The mattress felt old, and yet it was much better than the sleeping bags she was in for months since the start of the plague. So, with her boots slipping off her blistered feet, Charlotte lifted the bed covers up and slid underneath them, wrapping her thin body up so that only her head was visible, not even bothering to remove her hat as she stretched over to turn the flashlight off. The whole room plunged into darkness. With the door ajar so that she could hear outside the room, she settled down for the night and found that sleep was quick to come to her.

However, her dreams were not so kind. Isolation. Alone. All she could see was forests stretching for miles, the path worn under her feet as she quickened her pace, practically running from a danger that she couldn't see but she could feel. It was no walker, nothing physical that she could defend herself against, and with no one to watch her back, she was at their mercy. She was all alone. Her words, her begs and pleads and screams for her brother, her family, even the people she called friends, to come and save her never left her throat. It felt like it had just closed up, her tongue dry and useless in her mouth as all she could do was run away. All she ever did was run away from the problem. Eventually, her legs gave up and she collapsed to the ground.

She couldn't run anymore. Instead, she was forced to pull herself along the ground while the darkness caught up to her. Swallowed whole, she tried to reach out and cry for help, but all that she could see and hear and feel was nothing.

As quickly as she fell asleep, she bolted upright awake, a cold sweat rolling down the side of her face while she practically gasped for breath. Her heart hammered in her chest, a hand slowly moving to above it as she pushed her fingers into the flesh, trying her best to slow the beating down so that the blood wasn't thumping so loudly in her ears, and after a few minutes of just sitting there, she felt her heart start to slow down to a soft hum under her fingertips. The dream felt so real. She glanced around, reaching for the flashlight and switching it on for a moment, feeling herself calm down more when she could see that she was still in her bed, she was still in the cabin and nothing had really happened.

Exhaling loudly, she turned the flashlight off and laid back down, staring up at the ceiling while willing herself to go back to sleep. She didn't know how long had passed, but it was still pitch black outside, and so she would need to get as much sleep as she could for the trip out tomorrow. Her eyes closed slowly, and she just listened to the winds blowing outside, having picked up again and whistled throughout the room. That was when she heard a creaking noise from outside her door, sounding like it was coming from the kitchen. Quietly, she sat up again and listened, hearing the sound of footsteps along the floor definitely in the kitchen.

Exhaustion muddled with her brain, and she found herself wishing that it was just one of her brothers messing around when she told them to go to bed, until she heard a hushed voice. "Stay close, honey."

That wasn't her brother's voice.

Chapter 9: Just A Kid

David scolded himself as he stood there, his hands up to show his surrender while the gun pointed at him continued to jab into the back of his neck. The thought of the kid pulling the trigger at any moment made his heart beat faster. He couldn't die, not then, not with Mariana alone at Charleston, waiting for him to come home. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he tried to keep calm while Ava stood in front of him and their attacker, her hands holding tightly onto her pistol as she stared up at him, unsure what to do while Axel kept close to her. His hand was held out in front of her, keeping the female survivor safely close to him as his other hand held the pistol up, trying to aim at the teen. Glaring at them all, the teen loudly demanded. "Drop your guns, or your friend's getting a bullet to the spine."

"Ava." David started, keeping eye contact with her as she glanced between him and the teen. With a deep frown, he nodded his head and ordered her. "Do as he says. Drop your gun."

Uncertainty was all he could see, but he knew that Ava trusted him, and surely enough she listened to his orders, dropping her gun on the ground with a loud clattering noise. Without anything to defend herself with, she raised her hands as the teen nodded, his voice softer when he muttered. "Alright, that's good. You too, old man."

"Watch who you're calling old, boy." Axel warned, refusing to lower his gun as David glared heavily at him. Standing there with a gun pointed at him, he didn't appreciate the other man gambling with his life, and was thankful when the teen decided not to just shoot him and be done with it. Instead, the teen just raised an eyebrow and lifted his head, showing more of his face with the light seeping in through the boarded windows.

"I don't wanna fight." He pointed out, his face softening as he tried to negotiate with the group. "So here's how it's going down. You two are gonna drop whatever you took from here and walk back out that door to wherever the f*ck you came from, and I'll let your friend here join you."

Ava glanced over at Axel, waiting for any sign of what he wanted to do, and when she was given nothing, she turned back to David and the teen and started approaching slowly, her hands remaining up to show him that she was no threat to him. Softly, she started to address him. "You're here all alone?"

"No." He answered quickly, his voice a sharp snap while he continued to warn them. "My dad's coming back soon, and he doesn't like people going around in his sh*t. Stay where you are!"

"Okay, okay. Just keep calm, alright?" Ava obeyed, keeping her voice a soothing calm tone that seemed to make the teen less agitated. Stopping where she was, she stood on the side to David, able to see the teen clearly as she added. "Just let my friend go, and we'll leave. You won't be bothered by us again."

"Ava, we need that medicine." Axel pointed out aggressively, his hand tightening around his pistol while he glanced over at the other survivor, watching as she stood there with her hands up, ignoring his points with only a side glance as her acknowledgement of what he had to say. David wouldn't lie, he found himself siding with Axel on the matter. The medicine that they found here could set their community up for a good while, especially with the winter hanging over everyone's heads. On the other hand, the gun pointed at his head did much to persuade him to just leave this place alone, especially with the teen starting to get more agitated.

"We need this medicine more, it's all we got! This place is my dad's, all this sh*t is ours!" He growled, glancing between Axel and Ava while ordering them strongly. "Now, I ain't gonna ask you guys again. Lea-!"

David's body stiffened when a gunshot suddenly rang through the air, he felt the bullet just skim past him and heard yells of pain coming from behind him. His mind racing, all he wanted was to get away as he stumbled forward, Ava quickly running to his side as she held tightly onto his arm, pulling him away. Looking back over his shoulder, he was shocked to see the teen standing there, his hand pressed against his cheek, blood trickling over his fingers and dripping down onto the floor. Despite him holding the grown man at gunpoint, David was shocked when he felt himself feeling sorry for the teen, seeing the poor boy obviously scared as he stepped back when Axel closed the distance between them, kicking the gun that the boy dropped towards David.

Scooping it off the ground, he straightened himself up in time to see Axel still aiming his gun at the teen. Eyebrows furrowed, and when he was about to say something, Ava cut him off as she approached the others, having picked up the gun that she dropped before. With a quiet hiss, she warned him. "Drop the gun, Axel! He's no trouble to us anymore."

"You forgot that he just had a f*cking gun to David's head? If this boy wants to act like a man, I'm gonna treat him like a man!" He snarled, unwavering even when Ava suddenly placed her hand on top of his, forcing him to lower the weapon while the teen stood there, staring at her with surprise clear on his bloodied face.

With a heated glare, she turned to look at the teen and replied with more sympathy in her voice. "He's just a scared kid!"

"We're all scared!" Axel pointed out, wrenching his hand from Ava's and taking one last look at the boy, before he turned back around. Budging past David, he carried on into the once locked room, ignoring the heated glares he was getting from the other grown ups as he ordered them. "I'm seeing what else is in here. Do whatever to the kid, but be ready to head out in ten minutes."

After that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving the others alone to do what they needed to do. While the others returned back to scavenging for supplies, Ava paid no attention to him, rather moving towards the teen and guiding him over to chairs near the boarded window. He was stunned, following after her with his hand turning red from the blood dripping out of his wound, and when he sat down Ava tried to get him to remove his hand to allow her a better look at this wound. David approached them, wincing when he saw Ava succeed in removing the hand, letting it fall to the kid's lap as she too grimaced at the state of his face. The bullet had only skimmed the flesh of his cheek, but the torn flesh and splattered blood made it look a whole lot worse.

"Jesus…" David muttered, watching as Ava gently grasped the teen's chin with her fingers and moved his head to get a better look, letting him pull down his hoodie to show more of his face. Even with the patchy facial hair, he only looked in his late teens, bushy hair shining a dull black in the miniscule light in the store and brown eyes narrowed with pain and fear clear in them. When she moved to touch the wound, he recoiled and whimpered in pain, causing her to pause and stare at him sympathetically.

"Sorry about that, kid." She apologised, turning her head to look over at David before she ordered him. "David, I need some disinfectant and gauze for this. You should find some in the backpack I left on the floor."

Nodding, he turned around to see the same backpack Ava had dropped before she tried to save him from his attacker, since the top hadn't even been closed, some of its contents were scattered around. Stopping in front of it as he picked it all up, he wondered how Axel could just pull the trigger like that, even with the gun poking into his spine just moments ago. Seeing the teen sitting there, alone and terrified and hurting sickened him, he tried to push that feeling down in his stomach as he shoved all the medicine and supplies that Ava had gathered, before walking back over to them with the bag in hand. The teen was watching him, narrowed eyes wincing when his own hand was brought up to brush against his wound.

He almost seemed shocked that Axel had actually shot him.

"It doesn't look like anything really bad." Ava explained, adding with a mutter. "Course, I'm not a doctor. I'd stop playing with it."

"S-Sorry." He mumbled, falling silent and instead watching as Ava turned to David, taking the bag out of his hand with a smile.

"Let's see what we have here." Glancing inside the bag, her hands dug around in the contents while David looked over at the teen, him and the teen sharing a look before the latter looked away, guilt and pain clear on his face that made the grown man think about just before. However, those thoughts were interrupted as Ava pulled out a bottle of a clear liquid, the worn label reading hydrogen peroxide. With the other hand retracting with a piece of cloth, she turned her attention back to the injured party and asked him. "So, you gonna tell us your name?"

"It's… it's Vincent, but my friends called me Vince." He replied, glancing down at Ava with a nervous look. Quickly, it becomes apparent he was unnerved by the sight of the disinfectant in Ava's hand, and quietly asked the older woman. "That's gonna hurt isn't it?"

"I ain't gonna lie, it's gonna sting like sh*t, but we gotta make sure it doesn't get infected." She explained, unscrewing the top of the bottle and placing the cloth on top of it, tipping it slightly to wetten it before screwing the top back on. With the cloth in hand, she moved closer to Vincent, nearing the wound with the disinfectant while pointing out to him. "Think happy thoughts."

Saying nothing, he just glared at her poor attempted joke before biting back a yelp of pain when she wiped down his wound. Without the blood splattered all around it, David could see how much damage was done to the face. When the blood stained cloth pulled back, the torn flesh made his stomach churn as he glanced away. He wasn't unnerved by violence. In the army, he'd seen it all, but to see it on such a youthful face, to see that pain and fear, he didn't know if he could ever get over it. While Ava was dealing with that, the newfound silence meant that they could hear approaching growls.

"What the…?" David muttered, moving quickly over to the window and peering through the boards. Outside, he could see more walkers than there was before, shambling towards the pharmacy with arms stretched out and growling loud even through the thick boards and window. The sight of the large group moving towards them caused David's heart to seize up, his face fallen as he backed away while cursing loudly. "sh*t! You gotta hurry up with that, Ava."

"Why? What's wrong?" She asked urgently, looking over from Vincent's wound as both she and the teen glanced up at David.

Scooping the bat from where he dropped it, he turned back to the others when the sound of growling and banging on the windows caught their attention. With a deep frown, he stared at the boarded up window and replied. "We got company."

"If we stay here any longer, we're walker food." Ava pointed out, wincing when the boards started creaking under the weight of all the walkers on the other side. Turning back to Vincent, she finished treating the wound by placing a thick gauze over it, taping it to his face before standing up with her gun drawn. "Keep close to us, kid. We'll get you back to Charleston with us."

"You think that's a good idea!?" Axel grumbled, suddenly appearing out of the door with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Ava glared at him as he continued. "That kid nearly put a bullet in the back of David's head. Stephen ain't gonna like people like that in his community!"

"Funny, I thought Maria was in charge." David shot back as Axel opened his mouth but shut it again, saying nothing else as he just glared at him. Turning back to the loud banging when he noticed the boards starting to come loose, adrenaline started flowing through his veins, David glancing over at Ava and Vincent, before turning his attention to Axel as he added. "We wouldn't in this mess in first place if you didn't go all f*cking trigger happy!"

"That's some f*cking gratitude there, I saved your life!" Axel snapped, glancing over at Ava and Vincent as he approached them, the grown woman moving in front of the boy protectively while he growled. "We should leave your f*cking ass to rot for the sh*t you pulled!"

"Hey, that's enough!" She shouted, glancing between the grown men while she continued. "We can talk about this when we're in the clear, which is not now!"

"She's right. We can get out through the fire exit here!" David agreed, looking over at the closed door leading back into the alleyway. Axel followed his gaze, before nodding in response and rushing over to the door with all of them following after. When he wrenched the door open however, they were greeted with walkers that had made their way down the alleyway beforehand, the door being slammed in their faces before they could try to force their way into the pharmacy.

"f*ck!" Axel snapped, turning to the others with a desperate tone in his voice. "We're trapped!"

"No, there's a staircase leading upstairs." Vincent revealed, catching everyone's attention as he pointed over at a closed door. "Come on, we can escape those ghouls up there!"

"Let's go!" Ava ordered, taking Vincent by his arm and running over to the door with him. David followed after her, his heart pounding loudly in his ears when he saw one of the boards slide down by the walker's constant pounding, allowing some of them to slip through the open space into the pharmacy. Axel noticed them as well, standing by the door to allow David to slip through before he too went through, slamming the door shut to stop them from getting in.

With Ava and Vincent waiting on the stairs, David paused at the bottom staring at the other grown man as he shook his head with a deep frown, turning to the others while ordering them. "This door ain't gonna hold. Find something to block it before they bust their way through! David, help me hold this!"

David nodded and shoved his shoulder into the door, feeling the walkers behind it starting to slam their hands against it, desperate to get inside to where the survivors where. The force started to build up, David glancing at Axel to see him straining as well, trying his best to keep the walkers from forcing the door open. One particular slam caused the door to open slightly, David grunting loudly as he tried to close it again. However, an arm stuck out through the space, dirtied nails attempting to claw at the men while they tried to keep the walkers at bay, more and more growling and smacking against the wood while David called up the stairs. "Ava, it's not holding!"

"Watch out!" She shouted, the sound of something rumbling towards them fast causing David to glance up. He jumped backwards as a cupboard suddenly came tumbling down, the door opening slightly without them keeping it closed. A flash of the walkers behind them stopped his heart, but the cupboard slammed the door closed once more. The arm that was sticking through it, trying to grab the survivors, was severed off from the force, dropping to the floor while the fingers curled up.

Staring at it in disgust, David looked back upstairs to see Ava standing there, panting heavily while staring down at the other adults. She looked terrified, especially when the door vibrated with the numerous walkers behind it trying to get through. However, the cupboard held its ground, keeping the danger out though keeping the survivors stuck in the upstairs apartment. Backing away, David started walking up the stairs with Axel behind him, his breathing slowing down with his heart as he knew he was out of danger. Calming himself down, he stopped when he reached the top of the stairs, glancing into the apartment when Axel moved past him, walking into the room and looking around with his arms crossed.

"Pretty cosy up here. You and your dad been here these few weeks?" He asked, turning his head to look at Vincent, the teen just walking over to the couch and sitting down on it. David, meanwhile, walked to Ava's side while she looked through the cupboards in the kitchen area, trying to see if there was anything inside that they could take. Besides a few canned goods, there really wasn't much left in there. David wondered how long Vincent could have survived in this apartment. Without his father, and the food situation dwindling as bad as they could see, he didn't really want to think about the possible future for the teenager.

Ava paid more attention to their conversation, intrigued with the mention of the young boy's father again as she turned away from the cupboards, leaving David to search through while she interjected into the talking. "It's pretty small to live here for a while. Was it just you and your dad."

David remained silent. Rather, he listened as Vincent explained with a deep sigh. "Yeah, it's just been us. I've lived here for a long time. It's pretty safe, so we can wait until my dad finds me again."

"Be reasonable, kid." Axel pointed out, walking briskly towards the window that showed the streets below. Peering down, his face fell at the sight that David and the others couldn't see, but the soldier could hazard a guess as to what it was he could see. In the background, the walkers were still pounding on the door, trying to break it down and flood upstairs into the apartment where the survivors were. Both David and Ava backed away from the cupboards, leaving what little food remained in them alone while they turned their attention back to the others in front of them.

"What'd you mean?" Vincent questioned, aggression clear in his voice as he leaned forward on his seat on the couch. Eyes narrowed, he glared heavily at the man when Axel didn't immediately reply to his accusations, and continued with his anger barely contained. "How am I not being 'reasonable'?! My dad's still out there, he's just scouting!"

"When was the last time you saw your dad, Vince?" Ava interrupted, moving from David's side as she put herself between the two arguing parties. The only calm voice there, she was able to keep Vincent from blowing up at the older man, and her question only dampened the fires inside the teen for a moment.

His frown deepening, he let his head hang for a moment, voice soft and unsure as he mumbled his reply to the older woman. "He left a few days ago. Said he was gonna see if he could get into a part of town that was sealed off. He told me to stay here until he comes back, so that's what I'm doing."

"A few days on your own. That must've been pretty awful with all the walkers out there." She pointed out, sympathy clear in her tone as she stared down at Vincent with a softened gaze that contrasted Axel's stern expression. David kept out of it, but he too felt sorry for the poor boy left alone in the apartment, wondering how he was able to sleep at night with the groans and the noises coming from just outside his window. Vincent seemed thoughtful over what she said, seemingly surprised with how terrifying that must have been, as if he hadn't considered it like that and just took whatever happened on the chin.

After a few moments on contemplation, he finally spoke up with a gruff reply. "It's fine. Those f*ckers can't get in when you lock the door."

"Vincent..." David started, walking towards the arm of the couch as he slowly sat on it, staring down at the teen while the latter glanced up at him, both of them staring at each other for a few seconds as David tried to think of the best way to say what he thought without upsetting Vincent. Finally jumping into it, he carried on in a sterner voice. "To be honest, I don't think your dad is coming back."

"David!" Ava reprimanded, glaring heavily at him while he brushed her reaction off. "That wasn't the best way to do that, don't you think?"

"You guys don't know him." The teenager replied, getting an annoyed scoff from Axel, which he ignored as he continued speaking, raising his voice. "My dad knows what to do out there, alright? he'll be home soon and then you guys can go back to your community! We'll be fine here… We always have."

That last sentence was uttered with a quieter tone, Vincent appearing more unsure the more the adults tried to convince him to see reason. Ava, the only one out of the trio, moved closer to him until she finally sat next to him, offering him a comforting hand on his shoulder that Vincent didn't shrug off. Quietly, she glanced up at David, her stern, heated glares softening to uncertainty and sympathy for their situation, a look that David himself returned fully. Finally, Ava decided to explain to the teen, to try and make him see sense when all they could see was a missing father, and days where Vincent was all alone. Softly, she spoke up to him. "I know you miss your dad. We gotta look at this from our point of view, though, kid. Your dad's been gone for days. Even if he's alive, do you really think we'd feel better leaving you here, with all the walkers just downstairs?"

Vincent didn't reply immediately, rather he stared down at the floor with saddened glint in his eyes. David crossed his arms, his previously stern voice quieting as if he was talking to one of his own children. "You'll be safer in Charleston with us. If you still wanna look for your dad, we can do that some other day."

"And if I leave and he comes back? What then?" He asked, digging his heels in further and it soon became apparent that he would need more convincing to see the dangers of leaving him behind. David started thinking that maybe it was a lost cause. No matter what he or Ava said, it did little to convince Vincent that being in Charleston was safer for him than remaining at his home, waiting for his father to return when he might have been dead all along. However, Ava proved nothing if not stubborn and carried on with a stricter voice.

"Kid, do you think your dad would want you to put yourself in danger like this? Do you think he'd want to come back to find you dead?" She asked, keeping her cool when Vincent appeared shocked and continued before he could snap at her. She uttered her next words with a serious expression, trying to get him to understand the gravity of their situation. "That is what he's gonna find if we leave you here with the walkers. That door won't hold forever."

"We want to help you, Vince, but you're making it pretty hard to do that." David butted in, glancing over to see that Axel was growing annoyed with their persuasion, and quickly added in hopes that he could convince the teen. "Your dad could come to Charleston if he comes back here. It's not that far away."

Vincent noticed David's glances over at Axel, his face falling in anger as the two glared heavily at each other while the other scouts stood there nervously. Finally, he backed down, and with his sights set back on David, the teenage boy nodded slowly and finally gave in with a quiet mumble. "Alright. You guys do make that place sound pretty nice."

"Before we start welcoming people into the community and that," Axel started, grabbing the group's attention while he glanced out of the window again, this time moving away just as quickly and instead walking towards the center of the living room area, near the large TV that stood on the solid wooden stand. "We gotta wait until those smelly f*ckers downstairs clear out. Keep quiet, and they should lose interest."

"Eventually." David sighed in frustration, walking towards the spot that Axel was previously standing by the window. Peering out, he could finally see what the other grown man saw beforehand. Walkers flooded the streets. All that infested the pharmacy below pushed others out of the building, leaving them to roam across the streets until an unlucky survivor stumbled across them. The moans and growls from the undead could be heard from where he stood, especially with all the living in the room falling silent as the arguments died down. With his back to them, David listened as Ava started muttering something to Vincent, the two of them quietly having a conversation that he couldn't make out, and it seemed that Axel wasn't joining in as he rather walked towards the window that David was standing by.

He didn't move when the newcomer leaned against the window sill opposite him, staring down at the plagued streets with no emotion showing in his worn face. His gaze was unfocused, as if he was staring at something that wasn't really there, and with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he turned his head slowly to David and grumbled. "You really wanna give that kid a chance?"

"Other than aiming a gun at my head, he's pretty cool." David shot back sarcastically, glancing over his shoulder at the distracted Vincent before softly adding. "He's just been through a lot. At least in Charleston we can be there for him growing up, rather than just throwing him to the wolves. No point in giving up on others."

"You wanna know what I think? That empathy of yours is gonna get us killed one day…But at least it's something for you to hold onto. Not many people have something to keep 'em going." Axel pointed out, staring at Ava as she chuckled softly, laughing at something that Vincent said to her as the latter joined in laughing. The scene was heartwarming, David smiling faintly at it while listening as the other man continued with a gruffer tone. "Your friend has her heart in the right place but she lets her emotions cloud her judgement too much. She coulda gotten you killed before if Vincent decided to pull the trigger."

"She saved my life, even before this. She's my friend so back the f*ck off." David snarled, feeling anger bubbling deep in his stomach as defensiveness wracked his voice, dropping it to a guttural growl that sought Axel off his back. Ava was his friend, hell, she was the closest person to David besides Mariana, and he found himself getting angrier with the other survivor before pushing it back down. His mind recalled the last time he lost it, back in the town when that walker grabbed Mariana. He scared her so bad, and he knew that if he lost it, he would terrify Vincent and probably put the teen off from returning to Charleston with them.

So, he let it go. Axel was surprised with the outburst, eyebrows raised before he returned to his stoic appearance just as quickly. David was sure he would reprimand him, feeling something in his gut that once they returned home, he would be running back to Stephen with the report on how both David and Ava f*cked up. He didn't like leaving Charleston to scout, but that didn't mean he was fine with being benched either. He was sure Ava would agree with that as well. However, he couldn't stop that pleased feeling when Axel just shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, then. I appreciate someone who stands by his comrades. Just keep an eye on the walkers below."

And with that order, Axel walked away from David without saying another word. Rather, he settled down on one of the lone chairs, earning a glance from Ava and Vincent before the former looked over at David with worry, both of them saying nothing and rather just staring at each other for a few moments before she turned her attention back to Vincent, resuming their conversations while he kept watch. His legs ached from the running, the muscles in his shoulders starting to become tender when he pressed one of them into the cold glass, leaning the side of his head and, instead of watching the walkers stumbling around the streets, just stared off into the distance with an unfocused gaze. He didn't know how long it would take for the pharmacy to clear out, if it would at all, and his mind drifted to the blocked door downstairs with his mind running with numerous possibilities at once.

The door might hold, it might not have, but maybe Axel was right just before. If they kept quiet then the walkers would lose interest in whatever was upstairs and leave them alone, though he didn't know if that was even possible. The walkers seemed to stretch forever. Clogging up the streets, the alleyways in the distance, even dust being kicked up from the herd could be seen further down the streets of the city, and worry started gnawing at David's innards for the others in their group. Alexis, Carissa, Jordan. He hoped that most of the walkers were here rather than over the other part of the city. If they didn't reach the meet up point before nightfall, then Carissa would lead the group back to Charleston. David wondered if they would assume the worst happened to them, or hold out hope that somehow, somewhere, he and the others were alright. The thought of Mariana waiting for him to come home, it cut him deeply and yet gave him the determination he needed to try and get back home. Back to his daughter.

With the hours slowly trudging by, David didn't move from his spot even when Ava offered to take over watch. He couldn't sit down and wait. Doing nothing, it just left him with the time to mull over things that he didn't want to think about, and he hated being unable to do something to help the group. So, he kept watch silently while Vincent had fallen asleep. The poor boy must have been exhausted, likely not sleeping well alone and with danger outside his window, and David noticed that Ava sat beside him, letting the boy place his legs over her lap while he slept peacefully. Head leaning into the palm of her hand, she just stared at the broken TV with eyes half closed, between the point where she fell asleep and where she pulled herself away from the brink.

When he looked over at Axel, he noticed that the other grown man was nowhere as tired as Ava or Vincent, rather just sitting straight in his chair with his hands in his lap, thumbs twiddling with each other to occupy his mind, distracting the leader from the groans that they could still hear from the walkers. The slamming against the door had long ceased, and with the summer sun starting to dip behind the buildings, the walkers were moving away from the pharmacy again, on their neverending search for food. The sky was starting to change colour, the bright blue of the day giving way to the warm reds, oranges and yellows of the sunset, the shadows casted by the tall buildings casting the streets below in darkness. Some of the undead had stopped moving altogether, rather settling down on the abandoned road and waiting for food to come to them, and soon the darkness covered them from David's sights.

The room darkened more as the sunlight died out, the group starting to rouse up when Axel stood up, turning to Ava as he gestured to the sleeping Vincent with a flick of his head, explaining to her while David finally left his post at the window. "Wake the boy up. We're moving out."

"Is it safe enough out there?" She replied softly, lifting her head from her hand slowly while glancing down at Vincent's sleeping face. She seemed unwilling to disturb him, bringing him out of whatever dreams he was having and shoving him back out into the grim reality of their world.

Axel grunted in response, looking at the dimming sunlight outside as he muttered bitterly. "It's never safe enough, but if we stay here then we'll miss the meet up with Carissa and the others. We don't have much time left."

Ava conceded to that and moved her hand to shake the teen's shoulder, trying to stir him from his slumber. After a few moments of shaking him, big brown eyes opened slowly and blinked, ridding the sleep from them as Vincent brought a hand up to rub his eyes. As he glanced around in that tired haze, he almost looked confused as to where he was, and who the people surrounding him where, and David could see his face shifting to that split second of fear, his brain trying to work out whether what happened before was a dream or not while his hand moved to trace over the gauze taped to his face. That realisation hit him like a ton of bricks, and disappointment was clear on his face when Ava explained to him. "You gotta wake up, kid. We're leaving now."

"My dad… did he…?" He started, but let the words trail off when Ava gave him a grim look and shook her head without saying anything. She didn't need to, as Vincent understood from her face and gesture the answer to his question and just let the subject slid, that disappointment almost soul crushing to David as he watched in pity. Before he could offer any condolences, however, Vincent just swung his legs off ava's lap and stood up from the couch, unwilling to look at any of the adults as he just sighed. "Come on. We can get out through the fire escape in my bedroom."

"Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, Vincent." Axel ordered, allowing Vincent to move past him and towards a closed door leading into one of the two bedrooms in the apartment. David paused, glancing over to Ava as she rose from the couch and stretched her arms out until the joints popped loudly, letting them fall to her sides and turning to him with a faint smile. When he returned it, she quietly grabbed the bag she left by the side of the couch and moved to follow after the others while David grabbed the bat he left by the door.

With the weapon in his hand, he glanced down the stairs to the blocked door and wondered what Vincent's father would do if he did return after they left. With no way up to the apartment, he thought about what the missing survivor would do before he just shook his mind free of those thoughts, following after the others quickly. Ava had waited for him by the door leading into the bedroom, letting David pass before she too entered the room and closed the door behind her. The room wasn't all that big, with a single bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a bedside table with a lamp that no longer worked. The window leading to the dire escape was opened, letting in the faint summer breeze that cooled David down as he peeked at a baseball that was left on the stand on top of the dresser.

A signature was scribbled over the greyed fabric, looking somewhat familiar to David as he went to pick it up, his hand freezing when Vincent snapped at him. "Don't touch anything."

"I take it you're a baseball fan?" David pointed out, letting his hand drop back to his side as he peered over at Vincent, noticing his expression turn from one of annoyance to pride. The teen moved from the window to his side, picking the baseball up and tossing it lightly in his hand.

"I started collecting signatures when I was just a kid. My dad took me to every baseball game for our team. The only thing we really liked together." He reminisced, his voice dropping in tone as he continued softly. "I was in the South Charleston High School baseball team. Pretty good at it too. It was after one of my games that my dad got me this baseball signature. Javier Garcia."

The mention of his brother's name caused David to frown deeply. In his gut, that familiar pange of jealousy stirred up as he stared at Vincent's proud face, his prized possession in his hand before he shoved it in his hoodie pocket, quickly adding as he turned around to walk back to the window. "It's just a stupid dream now. We got more pressing issues to deal with."

It was almost sad, thinking about Vincent's happy tone and eagerness to talk about something as simple as a signed baseball that his father gave him, and only for the pressing issues plaguing the group pushing that childlike enthusiasm down once more. David paused in following Vincent and Axel as they climbed out of the window onto the fire escape outside, glancing at a collection of photos that was taped to the wall above the teen's bed. Vincent in black and orange colours, a baseball bat in his hand and a huge grin on his face as he stood next to an older looking man, his dark coloured skin even darker than Vincent's. They looked happy. Slowly, he plucked it from the wall and held onto it, knowing that Vincent would want something more than just a baseball to remember his father.

"David, come on. We gotta go." Ava called, having slipped through the window as well and was waiting for him to join them, Vincent and Axel nowhere to be seen from where David was standing. Glancing back at the pictures, David pocketed one of them and walked towards the window, hauling himself out onto the fire escape with a deep grunt. Out of the apartment, he peered down to the alleyway down below, noticing that there was hardly any walkers down below.

"We can get down into the streets from here." Vincent pointed out, making his way down the fire escape ladder. "Follow me."

And so they did. Leaving the open window behind them, the group slowly descended down the old, creaking fire escape until they reached the bottom level. The last to climb down the ladder, David paused when he saw Axel and Ava peering down to the ground down below them. The last ladder that led to the ground was broken, the useless thing lying down below and leaving them stuck up above. Moving away from the edge, Axel turned to David and sighed in frustration. "Well, we can get down, but there ain't no getting back up here if it all goes to sh*t."

"Guess we gotta make sure it doesn't then, huh?" David shot back, watching Axel hum to that and turn his back to him. With a frown, he turned to Vincent and Ava, walking towards the two survivors while he explained quietly, unwilling to bring attention of anything that was lurking in the alleyway to them. "Be careful with the jump. Getting a busted leg is a death sentence out here."

"I can do it. Don't worry." Vincent replied, moving towards the edge of the fire escape and sitting down, letting his long legs dangle over the edge as he peeked down, making sure no walkers were directly below him before he pushed himself off. A heavy thud and a low grunt of exertion came from him as David looked down, noticing that the teen had managed to get down without hurting himself and was waiting for the others to join him.

"Outta the way, big boy. I got this." Ava joked, pushing past David and lowering her body to the floor of the fire escape. Her hand pushed against the cold metal, she jumped down onto the ground below to join Vincent, her heavy army boots making a loud thudding noise as they collided with the hard stone floor.

David paused, his face contorted in confusion as he gone over what she just called him, before he turned to Axel standing right next to him and asked him. "Did she just call me fat?"

Shrugging in response, Axel moved to sit down on the edge of the fire escape, pushing himself off and landing awkwardly on the ground below, his body hitting the floor and a loud grunt coming from the older man as he groaned in pain. Vincent and Ava chuckled at that, all while David watched in amusem*nt at the leader's mistake, before jumping down himself. His knees bend with the collision, and quietly groaning in pain from the movement, David straightened himself up while Axel finally managed to pick himself off of the ground, brushing the dust off his coat while Ava shared a grin with Vincent over the mishap. Quickly, they lost the grin when he looked up at them, appearing serious while he started walking down the alleyway. "We can get out into the streets this way, then it's just straight back towards the bridge. Stick together and stay sharp. Walkers are more dangerous when you can't see them coming."

The other three survivors followed after their leader, Vincent keeping behind Ava and David as they walked down the empty alleyway, the open streets clear to see from where they stood. Watching the boy carefully, he noticed the teen glancing back over his shoulder, looking upwards at the window as they moved further and further away, before looking back ahead with a grim expression on his face. Turning his head back around, he listened as Ava pointed out. "You think the others are still waiting for us at the bridge?"

"I don't know." He confessed, peering down at her as he continued. "Carissa did say she'd leave if we weren't there by nightfall, and we're already running out of daylight."

"At least it's only over the bridge if they're not there, but there might still be walkers there. I don't feel right fighting with only four of us instead of six, especially if there's more than before." Ava sighed, fiddling with the dog tags that were left around her neck absentmindedly while David stared down at them. Almost on instinct, he reached for his own, only for his hand to meet air and the realisation that he didn't have them hitting him again. At the very least, Gabe had something to remind him of his father. Wherever he was.

For now, David would have to focus on just getting back to Charleston.