We Continue On

Carver's Intentions

A bit later, back in the pen, Tavia had come to get Lee. "Bill wants a word with you up in his office," she spoke strictly, Lee becoming confused immediately. What would that man want with him? He looked at Clementine, who was sleeping soundly in the uncomfortable bunk beds, and then back to Tavia.

"Come on," she insisted. "It won't take long."

Lee obliged, and stood up to follow the woman, leaving the rest of his group, minus Alvin and Carlos, sitting by the fire. They walked and walked, and when they finally reached the set of stairs that led to the office, Tavia left Lee by himself. The man began walking up the stairs, and that's when he passed Rebecca, who seemed to be crying.

"Rebecca?" he inquired, but she wouldn't answer him.

"She's a strong woman, surrounded by weak men. I ain't letting my kid get raised around that," Carver said harshly, as he waited for Lee at the top of the steps. "Get in here," he ordered.

Lee had no choice but to oblige, and the first thing he saw when he entered was Alvin, bloody, beaten, and unconscious. His eyes widened, and he tried to approach him.

"Alvin...Alvin!" he called out. Then, he turned and glared at Carver. "You son of a bitch! What did you do?"

"He passed out hours ago, he can't hear nothin'," Carver replied.

"Why are you doing this? What the hell would he have done to deserve that?"

"Let's just say that me and him, we got history. Understand?" Carver crossed his arms. "We had to...work out some things. And I wouldn't be so concerned for his well-being if I were you. Not with that girl of yours being so close to the fire herself."

This caused Lee to give him an even harsher glare, but Carver only led him to a seat by the desk.

"Now, you make sure to tell me the truth while you're in here, unless you want to end up in that chair," Carver ordered, gesturing over to the chair in which Alvin was unconscious.

"Now...I understand your friend, Walter, is gone now. But we can't just be losing people like that, not with the horde approaching, we need as much man power as we can get. So I need you to make sure incidents like that don't happen anymore," Carver continued as he sat on his desk. "Got that?"

"I tried to stop him, but-"

"I said, do you got that?" Carver repeated, bitterly.

"Yeah," Lee added, frowning.

"Good, good." Carver nodded. "I always believed suicide was the coward's way out, and selfishness like that puts this whole group at risk. And we don't want that."

"You killed the only person he had left!" Lee argued, defending Walter. "That doesn't make him selfish or weak!"

"Oh, but it does," Carver told him, wearing his snake-like smirk. "Now, see, that Walter fellow wasn't the least bit concerned about the safety of others with his decision. His cowardly act is a danger to this community's safety, and that's what makes him weak. It falls to strong people like us who need to lead the weak to safety. It's our responsibility to shepherd the flock, to keep them safe. It's their nature to follow, not to lead."

"I'm not like you." Lee was very blunt with his reply. He had killed someone before the apocalypse, but it didn't make him a crazed psychopath; nothing like Carver.

Carver's smirk grew. "Oh, we're more alike than you think. You see, Lee, killing one to save many is part of survival. It's one of the tougher decisions that the weak can't make."

Lee shook his head. "No."

Carver nodded. "I think you realize it, but you're not comfortable with it yet," he spoke. "There's no way you and that little girl could have lasted this long otherwise. And that little girl, she's gonna be just like you and me."