A Shred of Hope (The Walking Dead) (The Final Season Retelling)

19. Miletus

Clementine opened her eyes. The sudden light caused her to recoil. She tried to move her hand to shield her eyes from the intrusion but she couldn't. She was restrained by something. Groaning, she waited until her eyes had adjusted.

"AJ!" she exclaimed, suddenly remembering about him. Frantically looking around, she found no sign of him. Things were still hazy in her head as she struggled to recall the events that had gotten here.

She was on a bed in a room. There were several empty beds in there with a few wall cabinets. Medical equipment filled the room. A table sat next to her bed, containing a bloody cloth and some thread.

Her free hand immediately travelled to her forehead, remembering the wound. It had been bandaged and her cap had been removed, which was nowhere to be found in the room. Her right shoulder had also been bandaged. Her jacket lay on the chair in front of her bed.

The windows had been covered by white curtains. She could hear the sounds from outside of men and women talking and... kids? Her thoughts instantly flew to finding a way out. There was no way she was going to remain somebody's prisoner.

The dull throb echoed in her head, making it very difficult for her to concentrate. Sitting up slowly, she proceeded to try and free her hand, realising in the process that she was handcuffed to the bed railing. Cursing, she looked around for the key.

There it was, on the bed next to hers on the left.

She steadily got up from the bed over the railing, trying not to lose her balance. A feeling of light-headedness had engulfed her, now that she was on her feet. The handcuff cut off any mobility away from the bed, but it allowed her just enough to retrieve the key.

The lock sprung open and Clementine massaged her wrist. Her shoes lay at the bedside. Pulling them on as fast she could, she took the support of the bed, attempting to arrange her thoughts. Her priority was to get out of here and find the others. As far as her experience had taught her, prisoners were never locked up far away from each other.

She wore her jacket and proceeded to try the door. Unsurprisingly, it was locked. Cursing again, she decided her next option was the window. That, however, provided no better means of escape. It had been sealed shut. A small garden was all she could see from it and the wall. Her next bet would be to pick the lock.

Whoever had stitched her up hadn't left the tools for her to find as easily as she'd found the key. However, they'd clearly forgotten she could still check a cabinet. Opening one, she gazed at it in wonderment. It was lined with medicines and other tools. It was a very well stocked infirmary, to say the least. She hadn't seen so many bottles in one place in forever. Maybe she could grab something and keep it for the group.

A voice from outside distracted her from her task. It seemed close, prompting her to arm herself with the knife lying at the side. She stared at the door. Perhaps she could overpower whoever it was and escape. That was the best plan she could muster in the circumstances, especially with that heavy pounding in her head that made all kinds of things seem absolutely plausible.

The voice was right outside the door when Clementine jumped behind it. The handle clicked and the door swung open as the man let himself in. He must have noticed the empty bed since without taking a further step, he simply turned around in the doorway and closed the door behind him, swearing under his breath.

Clementine waited until the footsteps had died away. Now was her chance to sneak out. Tightly grasping the knife in her fingers, she crept out of the unlocked door.

"Going somewhere?"

The man's voice caught her off-guard. He sat on a bench to her left, looking right at her. She was in a short passageway with rooms to the sides of the one she'd just escaped from. A short wall ran across the passage in front of her that faced the street. A small set of stairs broke the wall in the middle. She could spot houses and a few people moving about.