Hello you awesome people! This is Zharza speaking! – and, I mean, who else would it be? I have a couple of notes before we start this chapter! 1; Apologies for the lack of updating IMMEDIATELY. I had a beloved dog get scared in a thunderstorm and he went missing for a short while before he came back. 2; A few people have PMed me, telling me that Omid actually knew about Christa's pregnancy, which means that Chapter 3 is up for even more updating, so stay tuned and be sure to check my User Page regularly, where I'll hopefully start posting the Chapter updates. 3; You guys wanted more Clementine, so here's more Clementine! Apologies if you think this Chapter is short, and that previous chapters are short, but please be aware that they will be edited further even after posting them here.
So! With all that said, let's start Chapter Six!
The scream from Clementine's bedroom is what pulled Omid out of bed for the fourth time that week. Christa barely moved as he pulled a shirt on and hurried to the child's bedroom. She was sitting up, in tears, clutching her blanket.
She either couldn't respond, or didn't know how to respond. Gently, Omid pulled her close, slowly rubbing her back.
"I-I . . . I . . . I saw Lee!" She cried. "He was trying to kill me!"
It wasn't the first time Clementine had dreamed this, and Omid knew that she was struggling with the knowledge that she had killed Lee. There was no way to stop it – you couldn't force a child to stop having nightmares; it would have been convenient for Omid if it was possible, but after everything Clem had been through . . .
Then there were Clems parents. All hope had been lost on that stretch, and it had made Clem even more depressed. While she didn't show it around the other children, it certainly showed when she was with Omid and Christa alone. Omid didn't know whether his parents were alive or dead or Walkers, and at this point in time, he really didn't care. Don't think of him as if he were heartless, because we all know he's not – he just didn't have the time to think of them. Besides; they were old enough and ugly enough to take care of themselves (a figure of speech).
"I know, Clem, I know."
There was no chance of her attempting to go back to sleep that night, so Omid had to stay up with her – which struck him out of any heists of supermarkets or gun stores the following morning. He had played a game of scrabble with Clem, and eventually Peter and Mason when they woke – Mason had woken because he could see the flashlight through Clementine's window, and naturally, he became concerned. It was then that Mason took over looking after her, leaving Omid to get at least another hour rest with Christa . . .
Which didn't really do wonders for him. Christa got up as soon as he got in the bed, so his source of warmth practically walked out of the bedroom door with merely a nod of acknowledgment. Omid groaned, but stayed in bed anyway.
"How're you feeling, Christa?'
Christa nodded slowly, picking at her pasta – it was odd. Because of the apocalypse, Christa's normal breakfast, that consisted of toast and a glass of milk, was changed to pasta with cheese and a glass of water. It was a necessary sacrifice, sure, and she was lucky she was eating anything at all. She just hoped that they'd be able to find the others before it was too late.
"I'm good." She muttered. "A little light headed, but good."
Light headed was an understatement – her head throbbed with pain and she barely got any sleep last night. When Omid hadn't slept well the night before, he'd usually snore, and because of Clementine, he wasn't getting much sleep, let alone sleeping well. And then he said he'd be fine, being a father. Fine was not going to cut it straight.
"That's good then." Alex sat down at the table. "Mason tells me that Omid has another raid planned today."
She glanced up at the doctor. "At this rate, Mason might be taking one of the others with him. Omid hasn't had any sleep, and last night he was looking after Clementine."
"I know. Mason saw her light on and left early to help him." He dug into his breakfast – also pasta, but he had brought a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice with him. The doctor offered another glass to Christa, who gladly took it. "Clementine certainly is concerning, especially now with the baby on the way."
She nodded. "She is, but there really isn't anything we can do about it. She's been through a lot . . . there's no way around that." She put down her fork. "But Omid tells me that there were less Walkers yesterday then what there was when we first got here. That means we might just be able to restart a town here."
Alex sighed, and took a sip of his orange juice before he spoke next. "We still have the issue of death. While we may be able to 'restart' society here, there is still no way around the virus that the Walkers have created. We will still be forced to act quickly at somebody's death." He paused, looking down. "I don't think we'll be able to shoot a friend in the head if that happens."
It was true. There was no way around the problem of people dying and coming back as Walkers. While shooting someone in the head as a 'ritual' to stop them from changing, Christa couldn't imagine trying to bring herself to shoot Omid when he was already dead.
"I know," She leaned forward again to pick at her pasta. "We have to find something. Besides; for all we know, there's someone out there working on a cure as we speak."
The idea of a cure. Strange, really, and quite possibly impossible. They didn't know if there were any scientists that were survivors. They didn't even know how many people are surviving the Walkers. Christa merely considered herself lucky that she was alive, and was hopefully going to stay that way for a while. A cure was merely going to be a luxury, a ridiculous luxury that would be impossible just to spread around the world.
So there you have it! Chapter Six! The more reviews, the more likely I'm going to update ASAP, so keep those reviews coming in! Favourite/Follow if you enjoyed and most of all; have a happy Friday you awesome people!