Lee took a steadying breath before reentering the house. "Clem and I are heading out for a bit," he announced, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Most of the group exchanged confused glances until he added, "We're checking the Marshes." Understanding dawned - except on David and Ben's faces.
Carley's smile was the only one that didn't reach her eyes. She alone knew the truth about Clementine's parents. The knowledge weighed heavy in her gaze as she watched Lee prepare for their grim journey.
"I'm ready!" Clementine bounded down the stairs, her backpack bouncing, the screwdriver and pistol in her hoodie pocket clinking together. Her bright eyes and hopeful grin made Carley's throat tighten.
"All set, sweet pea." Lee adjusted her cap with a tenderness that belied their somber mission. When he met Carley's eyes, his quiet words carried layers only she could decipher: "Save us some dinner." A code - Clementine would need comfort tonight.
Carley crossed the room in three quick steps, pressing a kiss to Lee's lips that tasted of promises and goodbyes. "I'll prepare something nice," she murmured before crouching to Clementine's level. "How about secret night time pancakes? Once you get back."
"But... pancakes are breakfast food," Clementine protested, nose scrunching adorably.
Carley's thumb brushed the girl's cheek, her smile trembling only for a second. "That's what makes it a secret. No one will ever find out." she whispered, the words sticking like syrup in her throat as she fought to keep her voice light.
Clementine giggled, the sound like wind chimes in the heavy air. "Do secret pancakes taste different? Like... magic or something?"
"You'll have to wait and see..." Carley couldn't help but press her lips together in response, watching as Lee guided Clementine toward the door—until:
"Lee!"
Molly vaulted down the stairs, a crumpled map fluttering in her grip. She thrust it at him, her finger tracing a red ink line snaking through the streets. "Fastest route to the Marsh House. No roof-jumping required." Her eyes flicked to Clementine. "Safer."
Lee folded the map with a quiet thanks, then lowered his voice. "Any progress with our... guest?"
Molly's jaw worked. "Nothing useful," she muttered, shooting a glance at Clementine—who was watching them with that unsettling, too-perceptive gaze. "Kenny's still working on his... persuasion techniques."
A beat. Lee saw the exact moment Clementine's eyebrows knit together, her small fingers tightening around her backpack strap. Smart kid. Too smart.
"Keep at it," Lee said, too evenly. "I'll take over when we're back."
Lee folded the map with deliberate care, tucking it into his jacket pocket as if storing away his doubts with it. Clementine's small hand found his, her fingers slipping between his calloused ones with the easy trust only a child could muster.
"Let's go, Lee." Her voice was bright with anticipation, a stark contrast to the rapidly purpling sky that stretched above them like a bruise.
The gate creaked open, then clicked shut behind them—a sound too final for Lee's liking. Side by side, they stepped into the gathering dark: one buoyed by hope, the other weighted with the knowledge of what—or who—wouldn't be waiting for them at journey's end.
---
Lee moved with precision through Savannah's labyrinthine alleys, adhering strictly to Molly's marked route. The backstreets offered cover from both the dead and the living, weaving them through narrow passages far from the city's once-bustling thoroughfares.
Thunk.
His axe lodged deep in a walker's skull with a wet crunch. With a sharp tug, he freed the blade and wiped it on the corpse's tattered shirt before signaling to Clementine. "Clear."
"Are we almost there?" she asked, hopping over the fallen walker with a child's oblivious grace yet her eyes were continously scanning around. Lee exhaled through his nose—ninth time now—but kept his voice even.
"Close." He unfolded the map, tracing the red line with a grimy finger. "See this? Hotel's just ahead. Five more minutes."
"Finally," she huffed, equal parts exasperated and eager, her small hand finding his sleeve again as they pressed forward.
Lee scanned every intersection, every slumped shadow in their path. His boot nudged aside debris, his eyes never settling—until at last, the alley spilled into a broad street.
The Marsh House loomed in the distance.
And between them and it?
The horde.
A tide of rotted faces stretched before them—the same horde Lee and Carley had lured into the building earlier, now listlessly shuffling in the dusk. Somewhere in that sea of decay walked the remains of Clementine's parents.
"Lee..."
Her small voice pulled his attention. Clementine's face had gone pale, her wide eyes fixed on the impossible swarm between them and the Marsh House. The unspoken realization hit Lee like a punch to the ribs.
"Stay brave, sweet pea." He squeezed her shoulder, then let out a sharp whistle. A single walker peeled away from the pack, drawn by the sound. "Especially for this next part."
Before Clementine could question him, Lee's axe crunched through the walker's face. He dragged the reeking corpse into the alley's shadows and unzipped its belly with a wet tear.
"We need to smell like them," Lee explained, scooping a handful of glistening entrails. The stench hit like a physical blow as he smeared the gore across his jacket. "Just for a little while."
Clementine gagged, pressing her sleeve to her nose. "It's so gross! Do we—"
"I know." Lee's voice was thick with apology. He worked quickly, daubing the foulness onto her sleeves and backpack as gently as possible. Clementine trembled but stood still, her tiny frame shuddering with each new layer of crimson horror.
When he finished, she looked down at her soiled clothes and whispered: "I hate this."
Lee felt something crack in his chest. "Me too, sweet pea," he murmured, holding his hand out. "Just hold on to me and don't make a sound." He pulled her close against his side, her tiny frame nearly disappearing into the shadow of his body as they stepped forward into the wall of rotting flesh.
Clementine moved like a ghost beside him, her wide eyes reflecting the nightmare shuffling past them - hollow faces with milky eyes, grasping hands blackened with decay. Lee could feel her every shudder through their connected hands as the dead brushed against them, their putrid stench clinging like a second skin.
When they finally reached the Marsh House, Lee guided her through the shattered window pane—only to feel her hand go rigid in his grasp.
She wasn't following.
Lee turned to see she had stopped dead in her tracks, her hand frozen in his grip. He turned to find her staring down the dim hallway, her entire body trembling. The look on her face made his blood run cold.
There, swaying in the shadows, were two figures - a man in what remained of a green jacket, his arm hanging by rotting threads of muscle, and a woman in a once-colorful shirt and skirt now stained beyond recognition.
Even in death, they stood together.
Lee's breath caught. He didn't need to ask. The way her lower lip quivered told him everything.
"Clem..." Lee's voice was barely audible as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. His gaze flickered between her and the figures swaying down the hall. "What do you want to do?" The words disgusted him - a horrible question no child should ever have to answer, but one she deserved to make for herself.
Clementine's breath hitched. "I-I..." Her voice dissolved into nothingness as tears pooled in her wide eyes, her entire body trembling like a leaf in a storm. Lee pulled her close against his side, feeling her small frame shake against him.
Moving slowly, he guided her forward, each step heavier than the last. Clementine's eyes remained locked ahead, her gaze never leaving the two figures even as her feet dragged. When they neared an open doorway, Lee gently steered her inside, quickly scanning the room before shutting the door behind them.
The moment the latch clicked, Clementine's composure shattered. "They're dead," she choked out, the words ripping from her throat like glass.
Lee dropped to his knees and pulled her into a crushing embrace, her silent sobs soaking through his jacket as she trembled in his arms. He could feel each muffled cry like a physical blow to his chest.
When her shaking finally subsided, Lee drew back just enough to see her face - her cheeks glistening with tears, her bottom lip still quivering. He brushed a thumb gently across her cheekbone, wiping away a fresh tear as it fell. There were no words that could fix this, no magic comfort to undo the horror.
"I'm so sorry, sweetpea," he murmured as he tried to make his voice as soft as possible. "We can leave right now. Never come back."
Clementine shook her head, her voice breaking: "I don't… I don't want them to stay like that... I don't want them to be one of them."
Lee exhaled slowly. "I understand..." He dug into his bag for zip-ties, then cracked the door. Her parents lurked just meters away, their hollow groans echoing.
Click. Click.
The sound snapped their heads up. Rotting feet shuffled forward, a groan reverberating through the hall as they drew closer. Lee widened the door as they crossed the threshold, their decaying hands reaching blindly.
In one fluid motion, Lee swept their legs out from under them. The bodies hit the floor with wet thuds. He moved quickly, yanking their arms back and securing them with zip-ties. They writhed helplessly, jaws snapping toward Clementine, who stood frozen, her face a mask of quiet devastation.
Lee's hand tightened around his axe handle, but a small hand gripped his wrist. "I... I need to do it," Clementine whispered, her voice barely audible over the creatures' guttural growls.
"Clem—" Lee's protest died in his throat as he took in her trembling form - the way her small shoulders squared despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. She clutched the screwdriver with white-knuckled determination.
"I know," she said, cutting him off. Then, steeling herself, she stepped forward.
Her parents' milky eyes rolled toward her, their gnashing teeth just inches from her shoes as she looked at them for a long moment. Clementine raised the screwdriver, her breath hitching. "Goodbye, Mom... Goodbye, Dad..." The weapon trembled in her grip. "I'll miss you..."
For a heartbeat, the world stood still. Then—
Thud.
Silence.
Lee moved to her side, wrapping an arm around her trembling shoulders as he just held her. His eyes lingered on the bodies. Burying them properly wasn't an option—not with walkers still roaming the halls—but he could offer this small dignity.
Gently, he lifted the father's body onto the room's couch, then the mother beside him. With careful hands, he severed the zip-ties and arranged them: heads tilted together as if sharing a secret, fingers interlaced. In the end, they looked almost peaceful—two lovers curled together for eternity.
Clementine watched, silent tears carving paths through the bloody grime on her cheeks.
Lee studied her shattered expression. Asking if she was okay would be cruel - the answer was written in every tense line of her small frame. As he searched for words, a glint of metal caught his eye - a tarnished necklace clinging to her mother's still chest.
"You should take it," he murmured, voice softer than the shadows around them. "So they're always with you."
Clementine's breath hitched. With trembling fingers, she unclasped the pendant, its chain leaving a faint rust-colored streak across her palm. The weight seemed to press her deeper into the floorboards.
"Dad...gave this to her," she whispered, fastening it around her own neck with ritual care. "On their ten year anniversary. She never took it off..." The chain clicked into place. "I won't either."
Lee's smile was a fragile thing as he took her hand. "That's good, Clem."
Her grip tightened suddenly, her eyes searching his with desperate intensity. "You won't die too, right? You won't leave me?"
The question struck like a knife between his ribs. No child should carry this much fear in their voice.
"Never." The word left his lips like a vow carved in stone.
Clementine exhaled - just once - and nodded. As they turned to go, her gaze lingered on the couch where her parents rested, their silhouettes barely visible in the gathering dark.
"Okay," she said at last, stepping into the hallway. "Let's go, Lee."