"I need to tell you something," Ben said quietly, looking at Kenny, who was carefully cleaning his shotgun, fully focused on the task.
"I don't have time to talk," Kenny muttered, not even glancing at Ben.
"It was me," Ben continued, his voice shaking. "I made the deal with the bandits. I kept slipping them supplies. I thought I could keep them off our backs… but when it got found out, that's when they attacked. That's when Duck…"
Kenny froze mid-cleaning.
Silence fell across the room; only Kenny's heavy breathing and the trembling in his shoulders could be felt.
Lee watched him nervously, bracing for what might happen next.
Clementine didn't understand the details, but she felt the tension and clung to Lee even tighter.
I quietly slipped my hand into my pocket. The last stone in my pocket dug into my palm, ready in case things went wrong.
"Are you telling me you were the traitor?" Kenny asked, his grip tightening around the shotgun.
Ben nodded, trembling.
Kenny snapped. In one violent motion, he struck Ben across the face with the gunstock.
Ben hit the ground hard, his nose bursting into a stream of blood.
The commotion jolted Christa and Omid awake.
"What the hell is going on?" Omid shouted, staring at Kenny and the bleeding Ben on the floor.
"I'm gonna kill you, you piece of shit!" Kenny roared, raising the shotgun toward Ben's head, his finger curling around the trigger. His eyes flickered with hesitation for a single heartbeat, then rage consumed them again.
Lee lunged toward him.
Omid sprinted too, realizing Kenny truly meant to fire.
Clementine squeezed her eyes shut, her face scrunching in terror.
Lee and Omid were still several feet away when I saw Kenny's finger tightening. Too late, he was about to shoot.
Acting on instinct, I hurled the stone at his trigger finger. It struck perfectly. Kenny cried out, jerking his hand back in pain.
Lee and Omid tackled him instantly, desperately wrestling the shotgun from his grip.
Ben lay on the ground, terrified, clutching his bleeding nose.
"Let go of me!" Kenny screamed. "I'm gonna kill this little pissant! You got my wife and child killed! You hear me?! I WILL kill you!"
"Please… stop," Clementine whispered weakly, standing from her bed, her eyes red with tears.
"Kenny, I know you're upset. I get it. But you need to calm down," Lee pleaded as he finally pried the gun from Kenny's hands.
"I'm sorry," Ben stammered, struggling to stand. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm so sorry."
"What the hell am I supposed to do with your sorry ass?" Kenny spat. "My whole family is dead because of you."
"I know what I did was wrong," Ben whispered. "So… I'll go. I'll be the distraction. Instead of you."
His hands trembled, blood streaked down his face, but there was something almost relieved in his expression—like he had finally laid down a burden he'd been carrying for far too long.
After a long moment, Kenny's breathing slowed, though the anger still burned in his eyes.
"Yeah. You'll fucking go," he said coldly. "You can be food for the walkers. At least then you'll be useful. I hope you die out there."
Ben flinched.
"Can someone tell me what the hell is happening?" Christa demanded.
"Ben is going outside instead of Kenny," Lee explained.
"What is wrong with you people?" Christa snapped. She looked at Ben. "And you—you're volunteering for this?"
Ben nodded stiffly. His bleeding had mostly stopped.
"Lee," Christa sighed, "explain your group's history before more drama explodes."
Lee nodded and began recounting everything.
Omid still held Kenny back, though Kenny had calmed just enough to glare bitterly at his injured trigger finger… then at me, muttering curses under his breath. I ignored him.
Behind me, Clementine cried softly.
I sat beside her, unsure what to say, so I simply stayed close and let her cry until she finally drifted asleep.
Omid approached slowly. I looked up, wondering what he needed. He swallowed nervously, glancing between the bleeding Ben and the furious Kenny before whispering:
"Hey, kid… uh… my girlfriend is hungry. Could you spare a can of food? I know it's selfish, but she really needs it."
His eyes were pleading.
I glanced at Christa, who was watching us closely. My eyes drifted to the hand resting on her stomach. If I remembered correctly, she was pregnant. In the original timeline, that was why she and Omid joined Lee's group, Christa hated being in groups, but Omid refused to let her face pregnancy alone.
Everyone was hungry, but a pregnant woman needed food more.
"I don't mind. Go ahead," I said.
Omid smiled with relief. "Thank you, kid. I won't forget this."
He took the can from my backpack and returned to Christa. She didn't look pleased, but after Omid persuaded her, she reluctantly began eating.
My gaze drifted to Clementine, still asleep.
Hard to believe that this tiny, fragile girl would one day become a ruthless survivor. Seeing her now compared to her future self… they were worlds apart.
The group stayed silent. No one felt like talking. I felt tired myself, so I shifted to lie down—but before I could, something tugged my shirt.
Clementine's small hand clung to me, even in sleep.
Gently, I lifted her hand away and leaned back against the wall, finally drifting off.
When I woke up, Ben was already preparing to head outside, layering himself in protective clothing.
Lee and Kenny were quietly removing the barricades from the roof to avoid drawing attention.
"Just like we planned," Christa said. "If you survive, go to Savannah. We'll be waiting."
"You can wait for this shit," Kenny muttered. "But I won't. As soon as I find a boat, I'm gone."
Ben didn't respond. He just kept adding layers of clothing.
I still wished the undead behaved like they used to, sticking their hands through gaps where we could easily chop them off. Back then, cutting their hands made them nearly harmless.
If we had done that early on, escaping now would be simple.
But they stopped reaching and started pushing.
At first, I thought walkers were dumb. Alone, or in pairs, they were mindless wanderers chasing sound.
But once ten or more gathered, they changed. They climbed, reacted faster, and moved almost intelligently.
Like ants: one is nothing, but a swarm can build, overwhelm, and kill.
Horrifying and yet fascinating.
Kenny and Lee finally cleared the planks.
"Alright, Ben. You ready? If you are, climb onto the table. We'll pull you up," Lee said.
"Yes… I'm ready. Let me grab the gun," Ben replied, reaching for the shotgun.
Before he touched it, I grabbed it first.
I stepped onto the table and leaped through the hole, landing on the roof.
"Wait—no!" Lee tried to grab me, but he was too late.
From the beginning, ever since Lee's name was drawn, I knew that if he went outside, or if anyone else did, their chances of surviving would be less than fifty percent. That was when I decided: I would be the one to go.
I was the fastest, the strongest, the only one who could outrun a runner. I'd done it before.
I had the highest chance of survival.
And honestly… I didn't want to stay with this group much longer.
If I told them this, they'd never let me go.
So, I waited for the perfect moment, and here it was.
"Max… no," Clementine said weakly, struggling to stand.
Kenny's eyes widened.
"Max? Get back inside," he hissed, trying not to alert the horde.
I didn't listen.
"Kid, this isn't funny. GET BACK INSIDE!" Lee barked, climbing after me.
Everyone below stared up, worry etched across their faces, especially Clementine's.
"I'll distract them! All of you get out when you see the chance!" I shouted.
A few walkers had already reached the roof.
I cut them into pieces with my sword.
Then I jumped, landing far behind the horde with the shotgun in hand.
I fired into the mass of walkers, drawing their attention.