Good Night, Good Luck: TWDG/Dying Light Crossover AU

Part Two: Old Enemies, New Friends

Clementine's morning routine at the camp usually went something like this:
She woke up around the crack of dawn and warmed up by the fire. Brewed a coffee, shared some food with the other camp dwellers. Quite often the food would be either field mouse, squirrels or crow. Sometimes she'd get lucky and someone was cooking a hare, but it was rare.
After that, once the sun was well and truly up and the Volatiles had retreated into their nests, she geared up and headed out for a day of scavenging.
Today however, was a little different.
Nico woke her up and marched her out the gate as soon as the sun was visible.
He slammed the gate shut behind her, leaving Clem standing in the street alone.
One of the infected that was laying against a wall, saw her and stood up.
Clementine sighed as it stumbled towards her, taking out her machete. She quickly dispatched it and the biter fell into the gutter face down.
With no destination in mind, Clem began climbing. She scaled the two storey houses in the slums and gradually picked up momentum.
It was freeing, traversing the city this way, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Ironic considering she was quiet literally walled into the city.
Of all the skills her mentor had taught her, free-running was the most crucial.
It had been several years since Kyle Crane was murdered.
Nobody had seen it coming, least of all Clementine. Crane had become something of a local legend in Harran.
When he had first arrived in the early days of the quarantine, he had never shied away from helping those in need.
Clementine was no exception.
When he had found her, she was a terrified twelve year old hiding in her parents' long abandoned home. They had left two weeks prior to look for food, but never returned.
Every night Clem would sit and hear the sounds of the Volatiles on the hunt. Those sounds flattened any hope she had that her parents would make it back to her.
Crane had rescued her and taken her to the tower. She would follow him around every time he returned there after a scavenging run, asking all sorts of questions.
Eventually, Crane got sick of answering them, so he offered to teach her what he knew firsthand.
Free-running, hand to hand combat, knife fighting, firearms, scavenging.
He taught her the skills required to survive in the city, and after years of practice, she was very good at it.
But one day, he didn't come back to the tower. The longer they waited, the more rumours started to spread.
'Crane is dead. Crane left the city.' And other such unfounded stories made the rounds, but Clem didn't believe any of them.
It wasn't until his body was found by a runner that everyone's worst fears were confirmed.
Crane had been stabbed in the back and left to die on a rooftop near Rais' garrison.
Slowly but certainly, the fear Rais used to instill returned twofold.
Crane was the only one who had openly defied Rais. For him to turn up dead in the warlord's territory was taken as a warning by almost everyone.
Go against Rais, and your days are numbered. Simple as that.
That sentiment remained to this day, and any time Rais' men were seen conducting their business in the streets, they were given a wide berth.
Clementine leapt forwards, clearing the gap between two buildings. Her feet landed just on the edge of the second roof and she lost her footing.
She slipped down off the roof and began hurtling towards the ground. Clem frantically reached out, just barely grabbing the ledge.
Clem scrambled with her legs, scraping her boots against the wall and hoisting herself up the ledge.
When she got back onto the roof, she collapsed onto her back, panting.

That was stupid.

Clem was furious with herself. She had made a rookie mistake and gotten stuck in her own head. When you started doing that outside the safe zones, that meant you weren't long for this world.
She dusted herself off and glanced at the street below. Several biters had been drawn by the noise she'd made, and gathered at the base of the building.
Moving on, Clem turned right and jumped off the roof, catching herself on a sturdy drainage pipe on the adjacent building.
From there she continued traversing the rooftops, putting everything about Crane out of mine.
First and foremost, she needed shelter. Somewhere defensible, sturdy and hard to find.
It was one thing to be safe from Volatiles at night, but it meant nothing if somebody was able to walk in and steal all your supplies during the day.
Spotting a fairly vacant street, Clem descended the building she was standing on to begin scavenging.
The nearby general store seemed a good place to start. The windows were all boarded up completely, but the door was broken off it's hinges.
Clementine drew her machete and cautiously approached the door.
It was pitch black inside the building. Clem clicked on the flashlight that was attached to her backpack strap, illuminating the space.
It was a grim scene inside.
A dead man sat slouched against the shop counter, his chest was perforated with dozens of stab wounds. The pool of blood that lay beneath him was still slick and brightly coloured.
Whatever happened here, happened recently.
From the body, there was a trail of blood drops that led over the counter and into the back room.
Clementine treaded lightly, stepping over the splayed out legs and heading deeper into the store.
The first floor was completely empty, but the trail continued up the stairs.
She flinched as the first step creaked, echoing up the stairwell. Clem waited for something to happen, silently poised with her machete.
Everything was eerily silent for the next few seconds. When she was confident it was safe, Clem continued climbing the stairs.
When she reached the threshold, something shifted to her right. An invisible figure lunged at her in the dark, she only caught a brief glimpse at it as the flashlight beam passed.
She swung her machete in an arc across her body, feeling it connect with something.
A man's voice yelled angrily and retreated. Clem took the opportunity to escape, bolting back down the stairs, nearly tripping on her way out.
Multiple sets of footsteps thundered behind her and she could hear the sound of weapons clanking.
Clem jumped over the dead body and ran out into the still vacant street.
As she sprinted away from the general store, a man and a woman cut her off, coming from an alleyway. They brandished curved scythe blades and blocked her path.
Spinning on her heel, Clem was faced with the three people who had followed her from the store. They slowed to a jog and encircled her.
One of them was nursing a gash on his upper arm that was soaked with blood.
They walked closer, weapons drawn, closing her into the circle.