Three Orphan Pilgrimage (The Alternative to TWDG's Final Season) [Walking Dead]

62. Fair Share

"Sin said we probably couldn't get into Houston because of the military and mines and—"

"Yeah, all stuff he probably said because he didn't want to go back there himself. And if he hadn't of said those things, would you still have wanted to drive your RV and that baby right into a major city loaded with people we don't know?" Clem remained silent. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

"That's... that's different. Sin said it was thousands," argued Clem as she deposited the fish entrails into their bucket. "There's no way we could have helped that many people by ourselves, but we can at least help Sin and Jet."

"Okay, so what's our limit then?" asked Anthony as he reeled in his line and examined his lure. "Two more? Five? Ten? Twenty?"

"I don't know!" snapped Clem as she tossed the last of the bloody leftovers into a pail. "But we're not leaving Sin and Jet behind, so get over it."

"All right then, but at some point you three are gonna realize we can't be responsible for everyone." Anthony cast out his line yet again. "Because we don't need to get anywhere near thousands before we're in over our heads."

Clem sighed to herself as she wiped the blood from her knife. Peeking into their cooler, Clem saw they had four cuts of fish now for six people and a baby. As the girl tried to wring some of the water from her nearly numb hands, she watched as Anthony reeled in his empty line before casting it out once again.

"I know you and Patty like to give me a hard time about this stuff, but this is just how the world works," said the young man as he adjusted his coat. "Even before the dead started eating the living, I spent enough long nights just trying to stay warm to know there just ain't enough of everything to go around. Or if there is, most people aren't going to share it if it means they'll have to get by with less."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't share," asserted Clem.

"Yeah, but how much can we share really?" pondered Anthony as he reeled in his line. "We're four people with a couple of vehicles, a trick for avoiding the dead, and a baby we're taking care off, and that's it. Even if the old man and that kid work out, that's only two more; two more people who will need food and water every day.

"I mean just think, you and I would be done right now if not for them. We got enough fish for ourselves, but now we need an extra one for our new guests. And as much as you might think of me as a master fisherman, I don't know if I could catch three fish every morning. Hell, I don't even know if I'm going to catch a third one this morning."

"We said we'd help them," repeated Clem, sounding less sure now.

"At least until they can take care of themselves," added Anthony. "Unless the old man knows where a literal paradise is, I'd be more inclined to just go our separate ways when the time comes. What about you?"

"I... I don't know," admitted Clem. "I—"

Anthony's reel began to spin and Clem watched eagerly as the young man pulled in his catch. It was just another puny bass, much like the previous two fish, but Clem was glad to see it anyway.

"Fucking finally," griped the young man as he unhooked the fish.

"I'll—"

"I'll gut it myself," insisted Anthony as he hastily laid the fish on the tarp and hit it with the hammer. "Just go get started on the cooking, I'm starving."

"Right."

Clementine collected their cooler and started moving back through the woods. Stumbling forward across the uneven dirt and maneuvering past the numerous dead trees blocking her way, Clem found herself more and more anxious to return to the warm comfort of her mobile home. Seeing a distant building through the forest, the girl began moving faster until she finally broke through back to the road.