The two-story house looked exactly as I remembered from my past. The windows and walls were barricaded with wooden planks, and even the doors were sealed shut. Whoever lived there clearly didn't want anyone getting inside. The entire neighborhood was ghostly quiet.
From the top of the church roof, I stared down at the house. I felt excited about meeting the group again, especially Clementine. Without her, my life had felt dull. I missed her stupid questions, the ones she used to ask me all the time. When I said goodbye to her, I never thought I'd feel so empty afterward. But as time passed, I found myself missing her more and more, which surprised me.
I began wondering what I should do when I met her again. Should I give her a gift for her birthday? She had done so for mine, but I never managed to return the favor. Over the past few days, my thoughts had grown wild, bouncing from one idea to another. Now that I was so close to seeing her again, I didn't know what to say. How would she react? What would the rest of the group think when they saw me? All of these thoughts raced through my mind as I continued staring at the house.
Molly, who stood beside me, tapped her foot impatiently and looked at me as if to ask what we were waiting for. She glanced at the house, then back at me, clearly trying to figure out what had me so captivated.
Her blonde hair swayed in the wind.
"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Let's go," I said.
Her lips curled into a playful smile as she placed her hands on her hips and studied me carefully.
"Do you miss your Clementine?" she asked, tilting her head.
Her question made my eyes widen in surprise. She burst out laughing at my expression, circling the rooftop as she laughed loudly enough to make me worry she might attract walkers.
"Sorry for laughing at your face," she said between laughs, "but watching your bald, serious look suddenly turn into that of an embarrassed teenage boy—I just couldn't help it."
I turned my head to hide my embarrassment, but she noticed immediately. Wiping tears from her eyes, she calmed down a little, though she was still giggling.
"So, my guess was right. For a moment, I thought you'd seen a ghost in that house, the way you were staring so intensely—with that shiny bald head."
Her comment about my bald head made my anger flare.
"Come on, let's go," I said sharply, preparing to jump down from the roof.
"Wait," she said, stopping me. I looked back as she gave me another playful smile.
"Is it true that Clementine asked you out first?"
She stared at me expectantly, clearly not planning to move until I answered.
"Yes, she did. Now let's move before we die of old age standing here," I said, clearly annoyed—mostly at myself for not being able to hide my embarrassment.
I avoided looking at her, though she seemed to enjoy my reaction as if she were watching an entertaining movie. The only thing missing was popcorn. Noticing my irritation, she finally stopped smiling.
"I never thought that timid girl would have the guts to ask someone out—especially someone like you. With that look, you could turn a lion into a house cat."
I'd had enough of her nonsense. I jumped down from the church roof, ignoring her. She quickly followed, sliding down using her ice tool.
At the front of the house, I scanned for a way inside.
"What are you waiting for?" Molly said as she stepped beside me. "There are people inside. Knock on the door. Did you forget your manners?"
Ignoring her, I knocked on the door. There was no answer. I knocked again, glancing around the yard. My eyes landed on a small, freshly dug grave. If I wasn't mistaken, Lee had buried a child there, with the dog. The shovel was still nearby.
Everything seemed to be unfolding according to the old timeline. That realization was both relieving and deeply concerning. I knew where this story was heading, and I knew many people would die—Lee included. I just hoped he wouldn't get bitten this time.
For the third time, I knocked hard enough to rattle the door. Just as I prepared to pound on it again, I heard movement inside. Someone approached the door but didn't open it.
"Who is it?" a voice called out.
It was Ben. His voice sounded steadier than before. After confessing his guilt, he seemed more confident.
"Just open the goddamn door!" Molly shouted.
The sound of hurried locks followed, and the door swung open. Ben's eyes widened in surprise.
"Max?" he said, clearly shocked to see me along with Molly.
We quickly stepped inside, and he locked the door behind us.
"How have you been?" he asked as we moved toward the living room.
"I'm fine. Where's everyone?" I asked, scanning the room.
Kenny was asleep in a chair, snoring loudly with a beer bottle still clutched in his hand. His face looked hollow—like someone who had lost all hope. Beside him sat Christa. She looked pale, with dark circles under her eyes. When she noticed me, surprise flashed across her face.
"Max? How did you get here?" she asked, forcing a weak smile.
My gaze fell to her right leg. It was heavily bandaged, soaked with dried blood, and supported by a splint. The injury looked severe—possibly a fracture. The treatment appeared professional, but even so, she didn't look well.
Noticing where I was looking, her smile faded into a frown.
"Oh, this? I broke my leg while gathering food. Some dumbass called a hunter set up a bear trap. I fell right into it. Luckily, Lee and Omid helped, so it didn't get any worse."
Anger laced her voice as she glanced at Molly.
"Didn't you and the others go to the school for medicine and batteries? Why are you here alone, Molly? Where's Omid?"
Seeing Molly by herself, panic crept into Christa's face. She began imagining the worst. Hearing her questions, even I turned to look at Molly, waiting for an answer.