Hi guys, it has been a while. Finally updated this fan fiction after neglecting it for way too long. It's high time I finished it up, with there only being a few chapters left.

This chapters theme song is going to be: one more light – Linkin Park

Chapter 10: Trapped

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Holstering his pistol, he looked at Clementine, "seems you're telling the truth," he stated, observing her, as she flung her arms around Sarah.

Whimpers and tears were falling between the girls, and Luke just looked lost and broken, as the leader strode over to the other guard, whispering an order in his ear.

"Now, at least I know you aren't with the people who have just attacked us," he started, "but make no mistake, if you're friend is one of those who attacked us, then you will all be killed," he stated sternly.

"But we haven't done anything," Luke protested, the two girls busy comforting each other to take in what was being said.

The leaders radio squawked to life, a voice coming over it that was indistinguishable, as to what was being said.

"Roger, bring him in," the leader said, observing the trio as he did so, scuffling could be heard and protests were being shouted as someone was being led to the office they were in.

"It's not Nick," Luke protested before the person had even been brought in, noticing the foreign accent.

"Nick, did you say?" the leader asked, an eyebrow raised as he eyed Luke.

Noticing the leader's tone, Luke looked sheepishly at the leader, nodding only once, as the scuffling and shouting got louder.

A man was bundled into the room, all three noticing it wasn't Nick right away, the man speaking a foreign language, but it was obvious he was cursing.

"Do you know these people?" the leader asked the man, his gun pointed at him.

"Nyet," he answered, "no, I don't," he corrected, fearing he was going to be shot.

"Take him away," the leader ordered, satisfied that the three had nothing to do with the attacks.

The soldier obeyed, bundling the foreigner away roughly, glancing at the three prisoners for a moment, before leaving the room.

"I'm Bradley, and I command all that remains of the US army in this area," he stated.

"Sorry I was so harsh, but it was for all of our protection, yours included," he said, a warm smile on his face, his expression and tone sincere.

"Now, hand over your weapons," he said calmly, "that's for our protection," he said, gesturing behind him.

Luke looked at him solemnly, taking his machete from his back, "so we're your prisoners?" he asked, thoroughly defeated.

"I'm 'fraid so, at least till we get these ruskies sorted out," Bradley answered, taking the machete from Luke.

"And you?" he looked over to Clementine, and Sarah, both still sniffling at the ordeal, hanging onto each other.

Clementine looked at Luke, who nodded slightly, taking a moment to straighten her necklace, breathing out softly.

She stood up and took her pistol from the crook of her back, handing it to Bradley, "and the rest?" he said, eyeing Clementine warily.

Damn it.

Reaching down, she pulled her trusty ice pick from her trouser leg, hesitantly handing it to Bradley.

"We're no threat to you, just let us go," Clementine breathed, her eyes meeting Bradley's.

"How about, NO!" he answered harshly, putting the weapons into a burlap sack.

"Your friend armed too?" he asked, looking over to Sarah. Clementine stepped between Bradley and Sarah, "she isn't," she replied for her.

Sarah's breathing was erratic at best, and she was barely holding it together, Luke shuffling over to her.

"I don't believe you." Bradley answered.

"Look, you've scared her enough, she is not armed," Clementine growled, balling her fists.

Luke finally snapped out of it, taking charge, "Clementine, step aside," he said calmly, reaching out and touching her arm.

She shot a glance that could kill at Luke, his eyes falling if only for a second, "please," he said softly, squeezing her arm softly.

"Fine," she relented, moving over and sitting next to Sarah, making sure she was alright.

"You won't find anything on her," Luke reiterated, stepping aside.

Bradley eyed Sarah, noting she was still shaking, snapping his mouth shut, and closing his eyes for a second, sighing loudly.

He strode over to her and knelt down in front of the quivering teenager, Clementine watching him warily. He studied her for a moment before attempting to speak.

"Look, I'm sorry I did that," he said, both Clementine and Luke taken aback by Bradley's change of behaviour.

"I had to be sure," he said, his eyes fixed on the young girl, reaching out his hand, stopping short of touching her, hesitating.

Clementine looked over to Luke, not sure what was going on, he motioned to her to stay calm, nodding in reply.

"You're safe here," the commander said, trying to see the young girls face, "you all are," he added, as Sarah backed up, trying to hide behind Clementine.

Bradley's face fell at her reaction, "Fuck," he breathed, retracting his hand and standing up, turning around and facing the door.

Luke noted his expression, having an idea what might be going on with him, but he couldn't be sure.

"This better not bite me in the ass," he said, picking up the burlap sack, and heading for the door.

"Hey," Luke said as Bradley walked past him, stopping him in his tracks, taking hold of his arm, "thanks," he said sincerely.

"Sure," Bradley answered quietly, looking the other way, not wanting to look at Luke.

Luke let go of him getting the message, he hadn't wanted to fake shooting Sarah, but like he said, he had to be sure. Better safe than sorry, right?

Bradley stopped at the door without turning around.

"Stay here while we sort out the russian situation," he said, walking out and locking the door.

Clementine was already looking all around to see if she could see any way to escape, nothing obvious at first glance.

"Now what?" she asked Luke.

"We wait, I guess," he shrugged, moving over to sit next to Sarah, who was still in shock from what had happened.

"You did this," Clementine gestured to Sarah, "we wouldn't be in this mess if you'd just listened," she spat, unable to hold back her anger.

"I know," Luke looked down to the floor, "and I gotta live with that," he said, pulling Sarah onto his knee and hugging her as close as he could.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said sincerely, attempting to calm Sarah down, stroking her hair gently.

"Sorry, isn't going to change our situation," Clementine argued, standing up and walking to the door, looking for any way of opening it, none immediately apparent.

"Fuck, I wish Nick was here," Luke despaired, "he'd know what to do with Sarah," he breathed.

"Yeah, well, he's not here is he?," Clementine snapped, taking a chair and standing on it, trying to reach what looked like a vent.

"Nick isn't here because of you," Luke argued, the feeling of hopelessness getting the better of him.

"How was I supposed to know he was going to run away," Clementine said, exasperated, standing on her tip toes, stretching as much as she could, the vent just out of reach.

"Well, you were there," Luke snapped back, "he must have said something," he despaired.

"Are you gonna help me, or just blame me for not getting out of here as well," the youngster said in frustration.

"Stop, please stop," Sarah cried, physically shaking on Luke's knee, pulling at his jumper gently.

"Sorry," Luke said, hugging the young girl gently, "I'm sorry I got us into this," he added, looking over to Clementine. Shame was written all over his face, broken and helpless, a desire to find Nick burning brightly inside.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Clementine said softly, dropping down off the chair and sitting next to Sarah and Luke.

"Fighting isn't helping anything," she said softly, her head hanging for a moment. It wasn't often she felt so discouraged, but that had been one of those moments. Nick was gone and she hadn't seen it, she had missed something. Luke was right, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, deep down she knew.

"Just stop fighting," Sarah whispered shakily, "I'm tired," the teenager confessed, looking up at Luke, she pouted for a moment.

"I wish Nick was here," she sighed, her eyes darting to the door, hoping upon hope he would come through it.

"We all do," Luke agreed, looking over to Clementine, noting the despondent look on her face. He hadn't meant what he said, he was frustrated, and angry at himself for getting them all into this. It was so unlike him, he felt he had failed them, and it was just that, he had failed them. He vowed he wouldn't take it out on the girls, it was his fault.

"I didn't mean it," Luke apologised, the guilt already tearing at his soul, "I'm sorry, for everything," he said, seeking forgiveness.

"I'm not fit to lead any of you anywhere," he despaired, "Carver was right," he whined softly.

Clementine looked up, a puzzled look on her face, the name didn't ring a bell, but it did cause her heart to jump, why was that?

"Who is Carver?" she asked, her hand reaching for her necklace, eyes casting to the floor. What was this feeling? Was it dread? Was it fear? Was it hate?

Luke looked at Clementine for a good minute, just watching her, noting that she seemed scared, perhaps she just couldn't put a face to the name. It was understandable after taking such a blow to her head, it was a miracle she could remember anything.

"The man who got my dad killed," Sarah answered bitterly after Luke didn't provide one.

"I want Nick now," Sarah whispered, curling up on Luke's knee, shaking slightly once again.

Luke opened his mouth to speak when a huge explosion rocked the building, plaster falling from the ceiling, gunfire erupting from the store, and was that from outside too?

"Under the desk," Luke commanded, picking Sarah up and dashing for cover, with no time to think. All hell had seemed to break loose, incoherent shouting could be heard, followed by long bursts of automatic fire.

Give us a god damn break.

Clementine rushed over and huddled under the desk hanging on to both Luke and Sarah. All three of them trembling slightly, the thoughts of them being unarmed in the forefront of Luke's mind. If anyone came in here, they were screwed.

After a few minutes the shouting and gunfire died down, the sound of the door being unlocked, nudging open slowly swiftly followed by a figure collapsing in the doorway.

Luke peeked around the desk, to see the broken figure of Bradley in the doorway, another burst of fire and a muffled scream from the front of the store urging Luke into action.

Hurrying over to the man, he grabbed under his arms and pulled him into the room, no time to think, just to act. The blood was quickly evident, pooling under his back, but it seemed it wasn't from gunfire, small bits of metal poking from under the skin on his left arm. The burlap sack dragging along the floor with him. Good, our weapons.

"G-grenade," he coughed softly, "they got us good," he coughed up some blood, rolling to his side spitting it onto the floor, bright red goblets streaking his face.

Clementine came over to help, closing the door softly, taking a quick peek into the hall before she did so, a small amount of smoke in the front of the store.

"There's smoke, we gotta be quick," the youngster urged.

"I know," Luke responded, taking his machete and putting it on his back, handing Clementine her pistol and ice pick before tending to Bradley.

Sarah joined Clementine, unnerved by the sight of all of the blood, "is he going to die?" she asked, her voice trembling softly.

Bradley laughed softly, causing another coughing fit, bringing up yet more blood, groaning softly before falling back onto his back, wheezing loudly.

Luke could already tell that he had accepted his fate, nodding faintly at Sarah, her eyes falling to the floor.

"Didn't think it'd end like this," he gasped, breathing seemingly difficult for him, "we've had way worse than a bunch a russkies," he coughed gently.

"Lucky fuckers," he wheezed, reaching into one of his many pockets, pulling out a photo, streaks of blood already stained it.

"Daddy's comin' home," he said softly, staring at the photo for a moment, before looking at Sarah.

"My Lucy looked just like you," he coughed a couple of times, hacking up another big red blob of blood. He couldn't have had much time left, his lungs clearly beginning to fail him.

"Just as scared as you, too," he'd observed, "walkers got 'er," he sighed loudly, his fingers tracing the photo.

"World's not fuckin' fair," he coughed loudly, groaning softly, and wheezing a few times.

"Take care of this one," he said, looking at Sarah, but grabbing Luke's arm, "take care of 'er you hear?" he coughed once more, his chest heaving.

"Not enough good left in the world," he grinned, pain written all over his face, reaching for his rifle.

"Be a better dad than me," he wheezed, sitting up against the wall, his rifle in hand.

"Gonna turn soon I suppose, I better make it quick," he said to Luke, "get out while you can," he spluttered, reaching into another pocket, tossing some keys at him.

"You can't do it yourself," Luke protested, looking at the state of the man, he was dying quickly.

"I can do it," Luke offered, "it's the least I can do," he added, giving the keys to Clementine to hold.

"No!" he spat, clinging to his rifle, "let me have my dignity," he wheezed, the photo slipping from his hand.

"Humvee, can't miss it," he spluttered, "get the fuck outta here already," he coughed, blood streaking down his chin. He didn't have long left at all, and the looks on everyone's faces told him everything he needed to know. He was ready, no, he'd been ready for a long time.

Sarah picked up the blood streaked photo, looking at it, her eyes scanning the photo with care. She looked exactly like she did, without glasses. She didn't understand this man at all, with him pointing his gun at her, but then it hit her.

She knelt down and hugged him, despite the fear she had held towards him, despite everything.

"Go to her," she said softly, placing the photo back in his hand. She felt his pain, how he longed to see his daughter again, one last time, just like she longed for her dad.

"She needs you," she smiled at the man, tears rolling down Bradley's cheeks at her gesture. A long cough from the man, and another glob of blood pouring from his mouth, causing everyone to step back.

"Don't look back," he said to nobody in particular, his speech slurred, getting himself ready for the end.

"Be good," he whispered, as the trio left the room, giving him the space and dignity he had asked for.

A solitary gunshot ringing out behind them as they headed for the front of the store, only to be greeted by automatic fire, Luke pushing everyone to the floor.

"I know you're in there," a voice sounded out from outside the store, "drop your weapons and come out," the man shouted, his accent heavy.

"What do we do?" Clementine breathed, looking to Luke for an answer.

"Try the back," he breathed, pushing the two girls immediately in that direction. He crouched down, pulling on their clothes to indicate for them to do the same. They headed down the corridor towards the back of the store when an almighty crash rang out.

Debris from the rear of the store rushed in towards them, practically blowing them over, dust as well as smoke had now filled the room.

"Fuck, too late now," he despaired shaking his head, he was out of ideas, hell he hadn't been thinking clearly since Nick ran off.

Smoke was beginning to drift below head height, a fire having broken out from the explosion, they were trapped. They either had the choice of dropping their weapons and risking their lives outside with the men out there, or succumb to the smoke.

"Luke!" Clementine urged, time running out.

"I know," he rasped, teeth gritted together, eyes darting around the room, his options had ran out.

"Do as he says," he relented, at least this way they had a chance, right? Staying in the store meant certain death, from either smoke inhalation, or being burned alive. Neither were options any of them were willing to take.

Arms raised, Luke proceeded to exit the store, "trust me," he said to the two girls, not looking back. He had no idea what he was going to say or do, but he took his machete from his back, and threw it onto the floor in front of him in the street.

Looking to his right, Luke noticed a large vehicle, a Humvee, perhaps their salvation.

Clementine followed Luke, taking Sarah's hand, and raising her arms in the air. Once they got into the street, she took her pistol from her back and then her ice pick throwing them next to Luke's machete.

Sarah remained quiet, raising her arms in the air, along with Clementine. Having no weapon on her, she didn't need to throw anything down. Instead she looked at the man pointing his weapon at them, "I'm not armed," she whispered.

The heat emanating from the store was becoming intense, smoke pouring from the front of the store, bodies lay on the floor just outside of the shop. Presumably, they were some of Bradley's men, but there was no way to know. The stench of the dead filled the air, piles of walkers strewn every which way. Had the men held this town?

"Stop right there," the man said, his accent heavy, his gun pointed at the three. A quick pat down of the trio revealed nothing of note.

"Vitali," the man commanded, "bring him out," he barked.

Sarah's eyes were drawn to two figures exiting a nearby building, her heart leaping for a second.

"N-Nick?" she yelled, was it really him?

She was so pleased to see Nick that any sense of danger left her body if only for a moment, taking off towards him. Had it not been for Clementine holding onto her sweater, she'd likely have been shot.

"No, Sarah, you can't," she enforced, holding her friend back, "you'll die," she iterated, interrupted by a gunshot to Sarah's feet.

"We gotta stay calm," she reassured her friend, "if we want to get through this," she said half attempting to reassure herself, her hand reaching for her necklace.

She looked over to Luke for assurance, noticing his stance had changed, no longer hunched over, but standing straight. His eyes were different too, they were brighter, more pronounced, burning.

Sarah got the message, not moving another muscle, the shot to her feet enough motivation to stop. It didn't stop a yelp escaping her though, nor did it prevent her from shrinking into herself again.

"Sarah," Nick called back, desperately wanting to run to his friends, but there was no way on earth that it would end well for any of them.

"We'll make it," his voice wavered, "don't you fucking touch them," he spat, rage filling his heart. Everything up to this point felt like it was his fault, he'd caused it, he was the one that deserved this, not Sarah, not anyone else.

"It's me you want," he protested, without struggling.

"So, you know this prick?," the russian man asked, "no matter," he shrugged, gesturing to Vitali to bring him forward.

"I'm Buricko, and you will give me what I want," he asserted, confident in himself and the situation.

"What might that be?" Luke asked, a valid question as he had no idea why these guys were attacking the soldiers.

"Medicine," Buricko stated, his eyebrow hitching ever so slightly.

"Medicine?," Luke repeated, astounded that there was so much death, so much violence, for just medicine. Sure, medicine was hard to come by, but there was no reason for them to have attacked the soldiers.

"I don't know if they had any," he added, his confusion apparent.

"Vitali is injured, and he needs medicine, surely they have some, no?" Buricko asked.

"Look, we had nothing to do with them, we just got caught up in your little fight," Luke explained, receiving a swift punch to the gut.

"I don't think you heard me," Buricko sneered.

"We need medicine, whether it is from them, or from you, I don't care," the russian spat, his patience running thin.

"Vitali," he commanded, gesturing to come closer, "bring him."

"This is what you call an eye for an eye, no?," he said, a wicked grin on his face.

Luke fell to one knee, winded from the punch, he grimaced for a moment, looking up at Nick. He looked in rough shape, way worse than just a punch to the gut. The last time Luke had seen Nick in such a state was back when he was a kid, when he lived with his father. His blood began to boil, he was angry, more than he had ever been in his life.

Clementine held onto Sarah's hand giving it a soft squeeze. It seemed like it was going to be the end of the line for them. She had no regrets, right?

She rubbed the necklace she was holding a profound sadness washing over her as she did so. An unease, a sense of responsibility crept up on the young girl, her heart pounding in her chest. She never truly thought it would end like this, in a street, in the dead of night, with so few friends left; for medicine.

Sarah began whimpering as Nick was dragged up towards them, his hands tied behind his back. The blood oozing from the other man's shoulder was clearly visible, but she couldn't bare to see Nick looking so beat up. What had they done to him?

Out of the corner of her eye, Clementine saw the flicker of movement, something on the floor was beginning to move. Her eyes flicked in that direction, walker. They were in trouble, so much trouble.

Buricko laughed as he saw the bodies lying in front of the shop begin to reanimate, it was almost too perfect.

"Well, now you got a choice," the russian sneered, "you," he pointed at Luke, "go get the medicine," he said sinisterly.

"No," Luke refused, "not without my machete," he gestured to the floor. It was suicide to go back into the burning building, especially with walkers now in between him and the store.

Vitali strolled up a few feet behind his boss, Buricko turning his attention to Nick for a second, pointing his gun at him.

"Go, or I shoot," he threatened.

A high pitch scream filled the night, a walker attached to Vitali's arm having reanimated right next to him.

Luke wasted no time in shoulder charging Buricko to the ground, a heavy thud as they both landed, Luke on top of the russian. The gun he had been holding went off, ricocheting off a wall nearby. The fury in Luke's eyes were burning, who were these guys, why did they feel the need to treat Nick that way? Unforgivable.

Holding on tight to Sarah's hand, Clementine saw things unfold in slow motion, the movement of the body had been so sudden. There was no way to know if the bodies were dead walkers, or corpses waiting to reanimate. That was terrifying to the youngster, and it hadn't affected Sarah any less.

"Nick," Sarah screamed, fearing the worst for the man who had kept her safe from the walker horde. He'd chased after her when her dad was torn apart, it was he who was nearby because he knew. If anything happened that she would need help, and that it would take more than just Clementine watching her to get out of there alive.

Carlos didn't have to ask him, he just did it because he cared, and Sarah cared for him too. She was terrified she was going to lose him, pulling on Clementine's hand in Nick's direction.

"We can't," the younger girl breathed, they had no weapons, they were on the floor. There was no time to explain and she had to make a decision, to either let go or drag Sarah with her.

With no weapons, they were as good as dead, so she let go, Sarah took off toward Nick, as she stepped toward her pistol. There were walkers behind them, Buricko was already falling to the floor from Luke, and Vitali had a walker biting his arm.

Nick only heard the scream beside him, his focus on the walkers behind the girls and Luke. Things couldn't get any worse, and he had to bury the feelings of guilt if they were going to get through this. His hands were still bound behind his back, and he was sore and battered from the beating he had took. These guys were something else, something he had only ever saw in his father, they disgusted him to his core.

Sarah was desperate to get to Nick, all she could think was he was going to be tore up like her father. She was beyond terrified, but all of that faded to nothing. The times Nick had been there when her father was out with Luke and Pete, the times he'd read her favourite book the Guurgles to her. The times he'd gave her his jacket when she was cold, just made her feel like a kid. She focused on Nick, ignoring everything around her, reaching him in a couple of seconds. Time had all but froze as she concentrated on pushing Nick away from the danger, her small frame colliding with the older man.

Vitali looked down to his arm, a walker biting into it, a scream falling from his lips to try and abate the pain. Where had it come from? How? There were bodies everywhere, why was this one not dead too?

Buricko fell heavily with the man he had ordered on top of him, Vitali's first concern was to get rid of the walker tearing into his arm, then help his boss. Swapping his gun from the limb being torn apart to his other, putting the barrel to the walkers head and pulling the trigger. His prisoner being pushed away by one of the girls.

No sooner had Clementine picked up her pistol a shot rang out from Vitali, the walker that was attached to his arm collapsing to the floor. She took aim at Vitali without hesitation, fully aware walkers were closing in behind her. Bang.

Nick's captor collapsed to the floor, relief washing over the youngster for a moment. The shuffle of a walker way too close for comfort she swung round. Fuck.

A shot rang out beside Luke, but his focus was on Buricko, his fist slamming into the man's face, blood exploding from his nose. He'd never gotten so mad in the longest time, the only other man who had accomplished that was William Carver when he decided it was a good idea to beat Nick for a minor misdemeanour. It had been the final straw, and the reason the group had banded together to leave Howe's for good.

A second shot rang out, the sound of something heavy crumpling to the floor next to him, it must have been Vitali. Things were happening so fast, Luke felt he had no control over what was going to happen. Buricko needed to disappear, and now, but that was just not possible. Clementine screamed out behind him. Fuck.

She swung round after taking the shot, the walkers already almost on top of her. She stepped back, tripping over what felt like Luke's machete, letting out a startled scream. Fuck. Her gun slid away from her just out of reach as they closed in, the sound of bone breaking behind her.

Just as Sarah collided with him a shot rang out beside him, he reeled backwards, falling over with the teenager, a second shot following the previous as he tried to gather his senses. His hands were still tied, causing him to writhe around the floor like a worm. The breath had been knocked out of him, but there was no time to be wasted on a little pain. His eyes focused, the walkers he had his eye on were closing in on Clementine, the young girl falling over before his eyes. They were all in trouble as he tried standing.

Sarah fell to the floor with Nick, having knocked Nick out of the grasp of Vitali, landing on top of Nick before rolling to the side. He was breathing, he wasn't dead, thank you. A shot was fired, to which the teenager flinched panic rising rapidly, unable to move. Fear had finally gripped her senses and was beginning to take over. Her breath shallow and rapid as a second shot sounded out.

Nick glanced to Sarah to see if she was okay before making any moves, his captor no longer a threat. She didn't look to be in good shape, her hands covering her ears, Nick was torn. Clementine was in trouble, but he couldn't just leave Sarah by herself. He looked over to Luke noting he was getting up, his decision made for him.

He scrabbled to his knees and shuffled next to Sarah, his hands still bound. He did his best to comfort her, his eyes firmly on the leader of the two Russians.

Luke stood up as Buricko's eyes rolled back, with any luck unconscious. He spun round to help Clementine, a walker already on top of the youngster and another closing in quickly. He kicked the walker on top of Clementine in the nick of time, its frame rolling to the floor beside her. The terror on her face was something he wouldn't forget for some time.

The second walker was already lunging for him, so he had no chance to help her further, he was in his own struggle now. It's teeth bared as it snacked toward him, putting his full weight behind him trying to fend off the fresh walker. It had clearly been one of Bradley's men, tactical gear still hanging from his person. No decay on this walker meant Luke was in for the struggle of his life.

Reaching for her gun, she hadn't noticed the walker close on her so quickly. Before she knew it the walker was on the floor with her, ready to go for her face. Her knee jerk reaction all but saved her, lifting her knees up to keep the thing from biting her. She truly thought that was it until a heavy thud lifted the weight from her, the walker rolling away. She'd been saved, by whom was unclear as tears filled her eyes from the struggle.

She scrambled backwards, the walker grabbing onto her leg. She couldn't reach her gun, but the machete was at her fingertips. Stretching as far as her fingers would go, little by little she tugged it closer, kicking wildly at the walker. Somehow it hadn't managed to sink its teeth into her yet, wrapping a finger around the tassle on its handle, she got a grip, tugging firmly. Taking it in her hand she swung in the general direction of the walker, bone crunching as she did so. She didn't care what she had hit, it had knocked it clear of her.

She pulled her feet away from the walker, her focus fully on the fresh walker, it appearing she had struck it somewhere in the shoulder. It's grunts and rasps disturbing to say the least. The machete was heavy so she had to take care to deliver the final blow, opting to thrust it through its neck upwards into its skull, rather than chopping at it.

Blood flowed freely, having to place a foot on the walkers head to yank the machete back out. Only then did she realise whoever saved her was struggling with a walker of their own right next to her.

She aided Luke by kicking behind its knee, sending it off balance, his knee connecting with the walkers chin, sending it backwards.

"Thanks," luke panted.

"No, thank you," Clementine responded, panting just as heavily, handing Luke the machete. It was too heavy for her to finish off another walker with it. Luke swung down hard, a loud crack as the skull split open. Finally.

They both sighed heavily, relief washing over them, turning around to see how Nick and Sarah were doing.

Nick was comforting Sarah, trying to slip the rope binding his hands, finally putting his hands in front of him instead of behind. He desperately wanted to help Clementine and Luke, but with his hands tied, he would just get in the way.

"Sarah, we're gonna be okay," he reassured, glancing over to see Clementine pulling the machete from a walkers head. Luke was struggling to keep the walker attacking him away from him. It took only seconds for it to be over once the youngster knocked the walker off balance, relief filling Nick's soul. It was over.

He went to stand up when he caught movement from the corner of his eye, an arm curling around his throat.

"Don't fucking move," Buricko threatened.

Clementine eyed the gun on the floor only a few feet away, deciding against trying to grab it.

Luke's stomach churned when he turned to see the man he had abandoned to save Clementine now held Nick hostage. I fucked up.

Sarah still held her hands over her ears, her panic attack continuing despite Nick's efforts to calm her down.

Buricko cocked his weapon, a horrible grin on his face.