Post by jake frost on Dec 22, 2016 3:03:42 GMT
It didn't even sound real. It sounded like a cartoon, where someone would be hit and there'd be this hilarious thwacking noise.
Clementine didn't think it would sound like that. Carver hadn't sounded like that – though maybe it was masked by the crunching of the bones in his face as the crowbar collided with it.
The sounds the twelve-year-old heard now, though... they were muffled by a floor and a closet, but Clementine still heard them. They echoed through the corpse of the abandoned farmhouse, the only thing she was able to hear.
After all she had been through, all she had done, she was powerless to do anything. To go downstairs and intervene was a death sentence – she'd get a bullet between the eyes before she could utter a word. She had a pistol, but as soon as she killed one of them another would turn on her and she'd be dead.
And AJ would be defenceless.
“I AIN'T TELLIN' YOU SHI-”
Clementine jolted in the closet, wincing as she heard the sound of fist hitting flesh once again, cutting off her friend's speech a floor below her. If Kenny was one thing, he was resilient, but she wasn't sure he'd get through this. She knew this was worse than what Carver had done to him, and she wasn't even present to watch what was going on.
“YOU STOLE FROM US, YOU PIECE'A SHIT!”
There it was. There was the reason these people had come after them – there was always a reason. Truth be told it had been Kenny's idea (they don't need it, Clem! They already got a ton o' shit. We need this. Alvie needs this!) but Clementine had agreed to it. If they didn't do right by AJ, what kind of people were they?
So, they had stolen from this group. They'd stolen supplies... and a truck. Maybe that had been the kicker, but Kenny was adamant that if they were stealing they'd have to make a quick escape (and think about what this could do for Alvie, Clem! This could keep him safe and we could stay on the road for a long time – s'long as we keep findin' gas).
Kenny was not the most delicate or observant person, though – especially with one eye – so by the time they realised they were being followed by said group, it was too late to outrun them. Kenny had managed to herd Clementine and AJ upstairs and into the closet before 'holding them off', but it had turned into a cluster. She had been counting the sounds – three sets of footsteps, three men. One was loud, evidently the leader. A second spoke in a dull murmur, deferring to the first, and the third had not spoken once. Clem assumed he was afraid or had been dragged along for the ride.
“ON YOUR DAMN KNEES!” one of the foes yelled.
Clem winced as the sound came again, accompanied by a cry of pain and a thud against the floor of the kitchen below her. AJ mewed in her lap and grasped in the general direction of the closet door, prompting the girl to hush him and ruffle his hair in a vain attempt to appease him. The boy was only young, but it seemed as if he knew something was amiss too.
“I ain't...” Kenny's voice was hushed now. Whatever the other group had done. “I ain't tell... ain't tellin' you shit...”
“We can hash out a deal here, man,” the quieter attacker admitted. “Just give us our supplies back and we'll be on our way. There ain't a lot left in this county and we need it.”
“Y'know what..?” Kenny yelled from below. “Fuckin'... fuck your people! I gotta look out for my own!”
Another hit – Clem could almost envision the blood covering the floor tiles in the kitchen by now; If Kenny wasn't tied up he was almost certainly on the floor.
“He got people.” The leader of the pack scoffed. “Go find 'em, Giles. Maybe breakin' a few of their bones'll get Edward fuckin' Teach to spill.”
“What if it's women?” the quieter one said. “I'm not hurting a woman, Harold. Come on, man-”
“I ain't. Leavin. Without. My. Supplies.” The leader, Harold, barked. “You know this has to be done; Only option we got. If you ain't gonna help get 'em back, then wait in the damn truck till we're done here. ”
“I'm not going anywhere.” the second man confirmed.
Clem would have listened further into their conversation, but she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. If Harold and his deputy were downstairs dealing with Kenny, the third – Giles - was coming her way and she didn't know what to expect from him. Harold would be brutal, the other guy would perhaps have been reasonable, but this third person was a wild card so she had to be prepared for anything, to protect AJ.
Raising her pistol, she aimed it at the cupboard door. The footsteps continued, then halted to open a door, then continued once more. Steadying one hand with the other, Clem held her nerve and breathed in.
AJ gurgled. Clementine whipped round, pressing a finger to her lips to hush him again – but it was too late. The man outside had heard them and his footsteps were heading in their direction. At first he jogged, then slowed down to a halt to not let his excitement get the better of him. Clem saw his frame through the slits in the closet door as he surveyed the room, but she couldn't get a good view of his face or his body – couldn't tell if he'd be a threat or not.
Beads of sweat ran down her forehead as the man checked under the bed. Looking to her right for a moment, she raised AJ from her lap and pushed him further into the back corner of the small space in which they were confined so that he was out of the line of fire if the person decided to simply spray the room.
'Giles' paused and Clem heard him exhale sharply; he seemed stumped. She witnessed his silhouette sway through the door as he turned to head back for the door, but he stopped as he noticed the closet. Clem bit down on her bottom lip, then drew in some air, levelling her pistol at the figure so that she'd be aiming at him the second he opened the door, ensuring it was cocked.
The click of the gun alerted her foe and he made for the closet door instantly, his hand reaching out the grasp the handle to throw it wide open. As he approached, Clementine questioned if she could really do this. She didn't know this man – they'd stolen from him. Could she really kill him in cold blood? Was that fair?
Gulping, she lowered her pistol so that it was instead directed at the man's foot. She'd injure him, but would not allow herself to kill. These people weren't bandits, even if Harold seemed like an ass. Kenny had done bad things. Lee had killed before, it was all relative – people just looked out for their own these days.
The door slid open. Clem didn't even look at the man's face.
“Harold, I found-!”
She fired, sending a bullet directly through the man's ankle and into the carpet behind him. He screamed in pain, lifting his injured foot from the ground and collapsing onto one side as he lost his balance. His rifle had been hanging uselessly at his side as he'd opened the door, so Clem sprang from her hiding space and kicked it out of his reach.
“CLEM!-!-!” Kenny yelled from downstairs, but his protest was met with another hit as AJ began wailing – shocked by the gunfire – and the stairs began to thump as someone rushed upstairs. Clementine looked down at the man she had just incapacitated. He didn't seem a threat – too interested in clutching his wounded leg – but she placed herself between him and the closet door just in case. They couldn't be permitted to reach AJ.
Another man reached the top of the stairs and Clem aimed the gun at him next. In response, he pointed a rifle at her head as he walked forth, a skylight casting pale moonlight cast on his balding head.
“What'd you do to Giles?!” he asked. This must've been the member of the group who was not Harold. Clementine wholly expected the leader would have just charged right into her if he'd caught her in the act of crippling one of his men.
“He's not going to die if you leave now and leave us alone.” She stated, trying to disguise her wavering voice with a stern expression that likely didn't show in the dimly lit bedroom.
“Listen, kid, I'd be at you before you could pull the trigger. You didn't kill Giles when you could have, so you don't wanna kill me either. Just come downstairs and we'll... the fuck's that noise...?”
He'd heard AJ's quiet sobbing in the closet. “You got a baby in th-?”
Click.
Clem pulled the trigger – to defend AJ – but nothing came out. She was out of ammo; she should have taken some when they hid in the house but they were in such a rush it hadn't crossed her mind-
“The fuck's going on up there, Lenny?” came Harold's gruff voice from below.
“Little girl shot Giles, then tried to shoot me!” The man – Lenny – called back, before turning on Clem. “All right, kid, don't say I didn't warn you.” He walked forward with confidence, whipping the gun from Clem's hands and tossing it onto the bed before grabbing her wrists and thrusting her towards the door. “Get downstairs. I'm not taking the baby, but you really pissed me off just now.”
She tried to wrestle, but Lenny was too strong. The man forced her down the stairs with the muzzle of his rifle – almost causing her to trip and fall – then herded her into the kitchen.
Clementine's eyes widened in shock as she saw the state of Kenny. He was battered and bruised, sitting bloodied on the ground, unable to stand thanks to a bloodied leg and several broken fingers. Kenny emulated her stare as he looked back at her, his remaining eye wide as if to ask “Where's Alvie? Is he safe?” Clementine merely stared at him, unable to comprehend what she was seeing until she managed to free herself from the shock and turn on the enemy group.
“You... you monsters!” She screamed, directing her hatred at Harold, who was leaning against the wall – pistol in one hand and cigarette in his mouth. The man looked akin to a walrus. “What did you do to him? It's just supplies!”
Lenny jabbed her between the shoulder blades with his rifle again as if to tell her to 'behave', then turned to his master. “We gotta get Giles medical attention, Harold.” he muttered. “This girl shot him in the foot.”
“Nasty.” Harold grimaced, before eyeing Clementine properly. “You know where our shit is?”
Clementine held the man's gaze. “No.”
The group leader shook his head. “My family needs that fucking stuff, or they're gonna die. You're gonna tell me, or he's gonna pay for it.” he jabbed a finger at Kenny.
“I already told you... she don't know nothin'” Kenny rasped – Clem's mere appearance loosening him up a little. “She ain't part of this. Don't do nothin' to her. We just... we gotta have those supplies 'cause we need 'em!”
“Find your own damn supplies!” Harold retorted, kicking the man in the gut. Kenny collapsed onto his side, groaning, as Clem jumped back and Harold turned to her.
“Supplies. Now. You fuckin' hear me, kiddo?”
Clementine shook her head. “I don't... I don't know where they are. Really, I don't... I...”
Harold stamped on Kenny's hand this time, a sickening crunch rattling through the air of the otherwise dead kitchen. It was as if time had stood still around them while this horrendous act of torture was allowed to continue for what felt like hours on end.
“You're really starting to piss me off, girl.” the brute snarled, grabbing Clementine away from Lenny's rifle. He roughly grasped the tangles of hair that hung from below her hat and wrenched her neck backwards, showing her to Kenny.
“Look, cyclops, my wife is fucking dying. We got the fuckin' plague or Christ knows what spreading through our camp and you stole some of the only meds we've got left. So tell me where my shit is or this time short stuff here is gonna get it.”
“All right... all right...” Kenny murmured, pushing himself into a pained crouch as he wiped blood from his nose. “They're... they're outside. Dumpster next to our truck... just... don't fuckin' hurt her.”
“There we go,” Harold smirked. “But this took long enough, so...”
Keeping hold of the back of Clem's head, he slammed her down so that her forehead collided with the counter. Everything shook for a moment and Clem fell to the ground, as Kenny snarled from his crouching position.
Something red dripped onto the floor in front of her, and though her ears were ringing Clem still managed to put two and two together and realise that her nose was bleeding heavily. Pressing a hand to her face, she felt around and discovered a cut above her brow, too, before turning to face Kenny, whose face was warped into a mask of rage.
“DON'T YOU FUCKIN' HURT MY FAMILY!” the man yelled, springing to his feet despite his injured leg and charging into Harold. The man was taken aback, likely assuming Kenny was in too bad a condition to fight back. With no weapons, Kenny was left to grasp at the man's gun arm with one hand and scratch his face with the other. Lenny attempted to raise his rifle at Kenny, but Harold's body blocked any chance of a clear shot.
“CLEM!” Kenny screeched, “GET AJ! GET HIM INTO THE TRUCK!”
Clem did as commanded, scuttling towards the doorway on her hands and feet, but Lenny stomped in front of her before she could do so. He attempted to knock her unconscious with the butt of his rifle, but she dodged and it slammed into the door frame instead. Using the second the man had to pull his rifle back, Clem grabbed onto the end of it and pulled it from his grasp, collapsing onto her back and pulling the trigger in some vain hope the bullet would merely incapacitate him.
At such close range Lenny's face exploded into a spray of red as the kick of the weapon sent the girl sprawling about a metre backwards. Oddly, as brains rained down around her, all she could think of in the moment was that “Pete had been right about the kick.”
The sounds of Harold and Kenny struggling echoed from the kitchen as she darted upstairs and headed for the closet. Giles was still crying on the floor, trying to crawl out of her way. It was only now she saw his face – he was only young, about the age Ben had been when he'd died. The feeling that she'd injured this boy made her feel sick to her stomach, but with any luck his people would come looking and find him alive once all of this was over and done with and she, Kenny and AJ were far away.
There was no time to think about it, though. She had to help Kenny. Grabbing AJ, she rushed back down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Kenny and Harold were still struggling.
“Kenny!” she called, getting the man's attention, “Kenny, I got him!”
Kenny, distracted by Clem's cries, was easier for Harold to fend off. Then man shoved him backwards, then levelled his pistol and fired, a bullet tearing through the man's stomach and sending him into the far wall of the kitchen where he collapsed into a heap.
At the sight of this, Clem, yelling in anguish, placed AJ at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed Lenny's rifle again. Neglecting to attempt to reload it, she ran and swung at Harold's head, blood and tears mixing and streaming down her face.
Whether Harold was unconscious with the first blow, Clementine would never know. He tipped forwards with the first strike, but she bludgeoned him twice more to be certain. When he was still, she turned and grabbed AJ then darted for Kenny.
“Kenny! Kenny! Oh, god, please don't be dead...” she begged, tugging at the injured man's shoulder in an attempt to get him to rise again.
“Clem...” Kenny breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes remained closed. “Lemme... lemme see him.”
Clem passed AJ over to the man. He ruffled the boy's hair as she had done in the closet upstairs, groaning “That's my boy.” His mouth weakly twisted into a smile as he placed AJ down and slumped against a kitchen cabinet, taking Clementine's cheek in his good hand.
“I'm shot, Clem,” he admitted. “You know what's gotta happen.” Looking down he lifted his jacket and exposed an ugly bullet wound. “Y'know... I get... lucky, sometimes, but this ain't gonna be one I get out of. Maybe... heh... maybe we shouldn't've stolen. Dunno... who's dumb idea that was...”
“Maybe not.” Clementine agreed, forcing a smile for Kenny's sake. Was is strange how numb she felt? “You're gonna... need this,” she admitted, passing him Harold's gun. “For when it happens.”
Kenny shook his head and pressed the pistol back into her hands with his own. “Naw, Clem, you need it. I'm done... You gotta... you gotta use it to protect yourself... and AJ. Don't... waste it on someone y'can't save.”
Clementine ran a hand down her face – it came up soaked in blood, so she used her sleeve next. “I'll get him to safety, Kenny, I promise. AJ'll be safe.”
“Don't forget about yourself, too.” Kenny grumbled. “Supplies... in... dumpster. They'll find me dead and... think I'm all there was. Truck's outside.” He feebly reached into his pocket and handed her the keys to the vehicle with a shaking hand. “You're lucky I... got to teach you... to... drive...”
Kenny's head tilted to one side, and his already slow breathing came to a final stop. Clem backed away, picking up AJ in one hand and the pistol in the other. She would have used a knife or another tool to stop him from coming back, but she didn't have the heart to do it. Instead, she backed away, forcing herself to tear her gaze from Kenny's body. Tucking the pistol into the waistband of her jeans, she scooped Kenny's hat from where it had fallen during his beating, picked AJ up and walked towards the door that led out onto the lawn where the truck lay in wait. They had to get away quickly before Harold's group sent reinforcements.
Climbing into the driver's seat, she set AJ into his baby seat and ensured his seatbelt was secure, then locked her own. After a few shallow breaths, let her head fall forwards onto the steering wheel as she gripped it, then let the sobs flow freely.
As much as she had tried to steel herself in front of Kenny to make him feel better, it never got any easier.