Chapter Text
It was raining. Hard. Way harder than it had been in the past few months. Even with no way to tell what the month was, she could tell what this weather meant. First the rain, Then the snow.
“Shit”. Noah could tell this was gonna be bad, especially if she couldn’t find shelter in time.
Snow meant less food. Snow meant freezing. Snow meant death.
Even in the rain, Noah knew she needed to move on. There was still daylight, and these woods held nothing but walkers. Packing up the camp was quick. She never intended to stay there longer than a night. Her tent was compact, easy to carry.
Mobility over anything. That was her motto. Move. Run. Sprint. Walk. But don’t stand in one place, don’t let them catch up. Them. Noah didn’t know if them were walkers or people anymore. It doesn’t matter. They both bite.
With the tent put away. She attached it to her backpack. Clothes. Flashlight. What little food and fresh water she had. Enough. She tried not to think about the smaller bag attached to the larger, heavier duty backpack. She wanted to believe that she left that part of herself behind. Cut the yearning out of her soul. The twitch in her hand when she looked at bag doesn’t matter. That fuzzy feeling in the back of her head didn’t matter. None of this fucking matters.
She hadn’t even breached the thought of her little classification. None of it was important. Not in this world. Little. Weak. It’s all the same. Weak links get cut off. Noah wouldn’t be weak. Noah couldn’t. It doesn’t matter that she couldn’t get rid of the bag. It doesn’t mean anything.
She walked. An inch. A foot. A mile. Dirt under her feet. The rain made it harder to be vigilant, but it masked her either way.
A scream in the distance rang out. Noah turned towards the sound. Whatever was happening it didn’t concern her. She did pick up the pace in the opposite direction however.
Night fell quicker than expected. She found a small clearing near the river, tucked a little into the woods. It looks like survivors were here. An old, rusted van with busted windows. A tent torn the shreds. Old cans and trash strewn about. It’s been picked apart thoroughly. But Noah wanted a place to sleep. Not for supplies. Besides, it’s better to stay where no one would be coming back.
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Noah woke up early. Just as the sunlight peaked through the trees. She stepped out of her tent and looked around. Suddenly, thoughts of the river seemed appealing. A stream could mean fish. Food. At the very least water that may be fresh enough to drink and bottle.
Noah made her way down to the stream, but not before killing a walker tied to a tree and taking the knife in its arm. She neared the edge of the clearing, hoping to find a way down. She started to walk down a set of wooden stairs before realizing that the bottom half was broken, leaving no way down.
Feeling a little dejected, she scanned the shoreline. Her eyes fell on a body. The body of a little girl. No matter how deep into the apocalypse, a child’s death never got easier. But this didn’t look like a walker. In fact, the little girl was stirring and opening her eyes.
As much as she wanted to ignore the child, who couldn’t be older than 12, Noah wasn’t so heartless. She wish she could be sometimes.
“Hey”, Noah whisper-shouted, “Up here”. Noah gave a halfhearted wave as the girl looked up in confusion. The girl stood up, her eyes fixated on Noah, a slightly worried look on her face. Noah couldn’t blame her.
“ Are…Are you ok?”, Noah was awkward in speaking, months of being alone, always on the run, had her social skills damn near nonexistent.
The girl checked her limbs and body, and when there seemed to be no noticeable injuries, she slowly nodded.
Not knowing what to say, the two sat in awkward silence for a moment. Noah piped up after a minute.
“What’s your name? I’m Noah.”
“Clementine.”, the girl - Clementine - said stoically.
“That’s a nice name,” Noah cringed at herself internally, “do you want to come up here?”
Noah reached down and outstretched her hand. Clementine jumped up and grabbed her hand. Noah hoisted Clem up to ledge on the stairs.
Noah hesitated for a second before deeming the girl ultimately harmless.
“Hey if…if you need somewhere to stay and rest…for a little bit, I set up a little camp just south of here…if you want…”, Noah trailed off.
Clementine hesitated. “How many people are with you?”
Noah immediately felt a lang in her chest. She knew what it was like being scared and nervous at the prospect of people. Especially being as young and small as the girl in front of her.
“No, no. Uh no it’s just me.” Noah quickly reassured her.
Clementine considered her words for minute, intently observing Noah’s expression. When Clementine seemed satisfied in her assessment, she nodded in agreement.
Slowly, they began the short trek back to the camp - tent really. Once there they were met with an unfamiliar person. Well, dog that is. Clementine looked at Noah confused, but Noah had just shrugged. Clementine slowly approached the dog, arm outstretched. Suddenly the dog ran to Clementine, tail wagging happily. As Clementine pet the dog, she looked at Noah, who gave a small smile.
“Looks like you made a friend.” Noah joked. Clementine returned a small smile. While Clementine was busy with the dog, Noah grabbed a can from her bag. She sighed as she looked at it but figured she could make do, sharing a can of beans with the girl. This little girl looks like she’s lot everything. Noah knows what that feels like.
“Hey Clementine!”, Noah holds out the beans. You would’ve thought Clementine had been shown a 5 course meal, the way she gasped. They sat down on the edge of the broken van, eating in silence.
“So…how’d you get onto the shore?” Noah asked. It didn’t seem likely this child would’ve made it this far on her own. “Do you have any people?”
Clementine looked down sadly, making Noah regret opening her mouth. ‘Shit. Wrong thing to say’.
“Me and my friend, we got attacked.” Clementine continued to eat silently. She was someone of few words.
Noah remembered the scream she heard the day before. Before she could open her mouth, the dog came up whining for food. Clementine looked at Noah, who nodded. They both had a soft spot for animals. Clementine scoops some food in her hand and offers it to the dog. The dog suddenly lunges at Clementine, knocking the can out of her hand.
“HEY! You can’t at all of it!”, Noah shouted at the dog, picking up the can. The dog lunged at Noah, but instead of going for the can, it sunk its teeth into Noah’s arm. Noah kicked at the dog, but it wasn’t budging. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Clementine grab a large branch. Clementine starts beating the dog as hard as she can. Eventually the dog lets go for a moment, allowing Noah the time to kick it away. It’s thrown over to the torn up tent leaving a whimper.
All Noah cared about was that the dog was away from her. She looked at her arm, a large gaping wound that was bleeding staring at her. She does her best to put pressure on it herself. Noah looks up at Clementine, who is kneeling next to her, and gives a shaken’Thank you’. Clementine nods.
Eventually Noah gains the strength to stand. She looks at her tent, knowing she needs to pack up. Now.
“We need to move. Every walker in the area probably heard all of the commotion”, Noah looked to Clementine. She moved over to her tent and belongings, and pack them up as best as she could.
She made a motion towards Clem to follow her, when they both heard the whimper of a dog. They turned to see the dog, impaled on a bunch of sticks from the tent. They both look to each other, a solemn expression. Noah moves towards the dog, pocket, knife and hand, intending to put it out of its misery. Clementine, however, outstretch is her hand to take the pocket knife.
“You won’t be able to do that with your arm”, Clementine gestures toward Noah’s arm, that’s tucked into her side, the bleeding slowing but not stopping.
“You’re too young. You shouldn’t have to do this.”, Noah argues.
Clementine holds the same expression, “I’ve seen and done worse”.
Clementine takes the pocket knife gently from Noah’s weak fingers. Weak? When did Noah feel weak? It doesn’t matter. The job had already been done, and Clementine had placed the knife back in her hands.
The whimpering stopped. Thank god.
They continued walking a distance, when Noah began to sway. Clementine looked worried, yet remained quiet. Suddenly, Noah had felt a wave of nausea and been forced to sit down. Clementine had spoken to her, but she couldn’t hear what was being said.
Suddenly, walkers descended on them. One, two, five. More? Was there more? Noah couldn’t tell. Her vision was blurring. She was unable to move. Everything was heavy. She could hear Clementine scream. Right in front of Noah, Clementine was tackled by a walker. Noah weakly reached out. She had failed. She failed herself. She failed this kid. She. Had. Failed.
Noah was already unconscious when the walker on top of Clementine was decapitated, out cold, unable feel herself being lifted up into strong arms.