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The following is a transcript of The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners.


Orleans Parish Bayou

one week ago...

The Tourist sits in front of a campfire across from Henri.

Henri: Well, I'll be damned. The Tourist, in the flesh. Stories about you have been buzzing all over the bayou. Word has even reached NOLA. Hahaha, yeah... But if the city is where you're headed, well, I suspect your story is just beginning.

New Orleans city limits


Henri: Here's a friendly warning, one lone soul to another. The dead ain't the only thing to be fearing in the Big Easy.

The Tourist floats through the flooded city on a boat. On the porch of a nearby house, someone fires at two walkers, but they grab him and pull him over the railing and into the water.

Henri: No, there is a war brewing. The Tower on one side, looming on the horizon... High and mighty...spouting their "all for one" ideals...and shunning any folks who don't be towing the line.

The Tourist passes a house covered in lights, where a group of people are gathered, some of them armed. One of them shoots someone in the head, and they fall into the water. They shove someone to his knees, and he clasps his hands together, pleading for his life. They shoot him in the head, and he falls into the water.

Henri: Those Reclaimed renegades are on the other, making everyone's skin crawl with their horror show tactics.

The Tourist passes a house with a broken wall. Inside, three people masked people stand in front of several candles, two of them wearing animal skulls.

Henri: And the powder keg that's going to make the whole city blow? The Reserve...

The Tourist sees a tall building in the distance, the top floor illuminated.

Henri: Haha, I can tell by the spark that jumped up in your eyes that you've heard the legend. Disaster relief supplies, from when the flood to end all floods hit...in an old military bunker. Never distributed to the people, because the government didn't know its ass from a hole in the ground. And before they could figure it out, the dead started walking. All that grub...all those meds. Military-grade weapons, and ammo to boot... Untouched...hidden...

The Tourist passes a crashed helicopter, then walls covered in torn posters and chalk drawings of buildings. One poster says, "WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER" and shows a soldier giving supplies to a citizen. Another says, "WE WILL PROTECT YOU" and shows soldiers carrying a first aid kit. Another says, "WE'RE HERE TO SERVE - PROTECTION IS ON THE WAY. STAY STRONG. BE BRAVE. BE SMART. TAKE PART. WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER." and shows smiling soldiers.

Henri: And guess who's close to unearthing the mother lode? That's right. You're looking at him. (laughs) But this broken body has seen better days...and I need to get after it real quick, before the fools get wise. So, if you find yourself itching to step out of the bayou and help out an old man, you can find me in the cemetery where I'm holed up. There would be a fifty-fifty split in your future. I ain't greedy...and I ain't no fool.

It starts to rain. Thunder rumbles and lightning streaks across the sky.

Henri: Give it a ponder, Tourist. You just might be what this sinking city needs to keep its head above water. But then again...(laughs) maybe you're the type to pull the whole god-forsaken place under.

Walkers in the water swarm the boat. The Tourist takes out their pistol and shoots at them.


Day 1

Late Evening

The Tourist stands at the entrance to a cemetery.

Task added to journal: Graveyard Strut - An old man named Henri lives in this graveyard, told me to meet him here. If I help him find the Reserve, he'll split the supplies with me.

The Tourist enters the gate and turns on their flashlight. They walk through graveyard, eventually reaching a walker corpse with a lantern nearby. The Tourist takes the screwdriver out of its head. They reach a mausoleum, where a dead body hangs out of the window. They jump through the window and exit through the other side of the mausoleum. The Tourist kills a walker roaming nearby.

The letter has "CRESCENT CITY TOWER" printed at the top of the page.

Georgia: (in letter) A patrol had a scrape with a couple Reclaimed in Old Town yesterday. Cyrus got messed up pretty bad, but the savages paid the price. One of the corpses had this drawing on it. Look familiar? Doesn't bode well. If that little shit and her traitor mother are working with Reclaimed to locate the Reserve, time is not on our side. No more fucking around. We prioritize their capture and we get that key back. I don't want Mama to worry, so keep this between us for now. Be cautious but aggressive. We stir the herd at 1700. Keep on the hunt 'til the last minute. TTWAS, Georgia.

It is a detailed drawing of the graveyard.

The Tourist continues moving through the graveyard, killing another walker. They eventually find an injured Henri hanging upside down from a tree with his hands bound.

Henri: ...fool...such a...damn fool...no more...please...I can't...take no more...

Tourist: Relax. It's me. What happened to you?

Tourist: Take it easy. I'm here. No one is going to harm you anymore.

Henri: Ha...now you show up... Son of a bitch...both sides...came down on me, same time...a slaughter...but I kept my mouth shut...they didn't get shit outta old Henri... Do me a solid...the bus...all I got...all I've done...don't...don't let it go to waste... I'm begging you...help the kid...her mom...fifty-fifty still stands...they get mine...understand? They're the only ones...who deserve it...the rest...drown the motherfuckers.

Tourist: Henri...who are you talking about?

Tourist: Who the fuck are "the rest"? Who did this to you?

Henri: So long, waterfall...so long, waterfall...

Henri dies. The Tourist can kill him before or after he turns, do nothing, or kill him before he dies.

Timber: (in letter) Time to make an example of the old man. We have let his transgressions slide for too long. Track him down. Carve him up, hobble him a bit, but let him live. JB would like to have a chat with him. He thinks he might be connected to the voice popping up on the airwaves from time to time. And you know how JB feels about competition. All ears should be tuning in to The Reclaimed. Timber.

The Tourist reaches an illuminated part of the graveyard. It's a camp built around a dilapidated bus.


Task completed: Graveyard Strut

Task added to journal: Eh La Bus - This is it, the Old Man's hideout, a rusted-out bus. Better look around, try to piece together what he had on the Reserve. Wouldn't hurt to get some shut-eye too.

The Tourist can add various supplies and weapons to their backpack.

The book is called Heart of Darkness.

There are various notes explaining crafting.

The book contains "The Soldier's Creed" and passcodes for various cities.

The picture shows Henri serving food to May and Ambre outside his bus.

One note says, "THE RESERVE IS REAL". Another says, "Food? Meds? Weapons?". Another says, "IF YOU HEAR THE BELLS, RUN".

The pictures show the inside of the Reserve.

A human skull is on the shelf.

A candelabra is on the shelf.

An empty jar is on the shelf.

The Tourist picks up the note inside the bus.

Henri: (in letter) I had an inkling, and by God, I was spot on. The Reserve. It's out there. It exists. This journal I found proves it. Still so much work to be done. Stones that got to be overturned. Riddles that need solving. "Waterfall" and frequency 61. Has to be connected to The Reserve somehow. Command and control, I'm guessing. That's the next step if I can get this blasted radio repaired. Wonder if someone is still inside? As soon as my ankle feels steady, going to take the skiff to that mansion in the Garden District where Niles and I recorded the Tipsy Blue record. The Blue Palace! It's my best shot at finding a microphone for the radio. Power is covered with the bus battery, just gotta connect it. Antenna too. Got encryption covered. Can't afford any eavesdroppers. Haven't slept in three days. These creaky bones are rattling with excitement. So close. I can only imagine what might be in there. Grub, meds, weapons, ammo. Haul of a lifetime. Set me up for a decade. Could sure use the Tourist's help, though. Hell, I'd even be willing to split 40-60 if they make all this easier. Hope they show up before it's too late. Getting old...

Task added to journal: Repair the Radio - Henri believed repairing the radio would get him closer to the Reserve. Need to get to the Shallows, track down those parts he mentioned.

The Tourist takes the battery and antenna on the counter. They drink from the flask to go to sleep, and wake up in the morning.

Task completed: Eh La Bus

The Tourist walks through the graveyard. They find a map on a makeshift skiff, and they travel to the Shallows.

The Shallows

The Tourist enters a dilapidated neighborhood.

Corinne's Comments

Corinne: Over here. Be careful. There's walkers around.

Corinne: Over here. Please.

Corinne: Please... I need your help...

Corinne: I have no one else to turn to...

The Tourist speaks to Corinne.

Corinne: My husband. He's turned. He begged me not to let it happen, but I just couldn't pull the trigger. He was all I had left, but I failed him. I...I'm so ashamed. Would you be willing to help me out? I just can't bring myself to do it. I need someone else...to end this nightmare.

Tourist: I will put him to rest.

Corinne: You will? Thank you. That is so kind. Here. Take this key.

Corinne offers a key to the Tourist.

Corinne: I locked Rubin in a room. Second floor of the blue mansion just up the street.

Task added to journal: The Ring - An exile named Corinne asked me to put her husband to rest. Gave me a key to the attic of the blue mansion. Maybe if I help, she'll return the favor.

Corinne: I've noticed your watch. Looks like you've got the alarm in sync with the chiming bells that rile up the walkers every day. Smart. You don't want to be caught out in the open when this place is overrun by the dead. Oh, and one last request...Rubin's wedding band, if you could retrieve it, it would mean so much to me. At least I could carry one small token with me. From my children, I have nothing. They're just...gone. I never even got to say goodbye.

Tourist: This is a matter between you and your husband. I'm not getting involved.

Corinne: I understand. And you're right. But I know I cannot do it.

Tourist: Seems dangerous. What's in it for me?

Corinne: There is a safe in the mansion where we were camped. We had the code. No clue what could be in there, but the code is yours if you help me. Please. I need this.

(The Tourist can choose between the other two options.)

The Tourist walks through the street, killing walkers.

The poster shows May and her daughter.

Mama: (in poster) May Benoit is a traitor. May Benoit is liar and a thief. She will say and do anything to further her own selfish agenda. Do not be fooled, she will not help you. She will corrupt you. I considered her family. Treated her as if she were my own flesh and blood. Yet she did not hesitate to betray me. She tried to turn my most dearest and most loyal friends against me. Her treachery knows no bounds. She is desperate and will do the same to you. Do not be fooled. May Benoit is a menace. She should be shunned. If you assist her in any way, you will leave us no choice but to consider you an enemy of the Tower. We do not wish this. Do not force our hand. The Tower Will Always Stand, Mama.

The Tourist climbs up the wall of the blue mansion and climbs in through the second-floor window. They enter a hole in the wall, which has crosses hanging from the ceiling. The room contains a pool table, children's toys, an empty bottle, and overturned furniture. They open the door and enter the hallway, killing the nearby walkers. If the Tourist got the key from Corinne, they use it to enter a locked room. They climb up the stairs to the attic and kill walker Rubin, taking his wedding ring. If they explore the rest of the attic, they find a shotgun resting on a bloody chair; nearby, there is a bloody sheet covering a corpse.

The Tourist picks up the letter that falls from Rubin's corpse.

Rubin: (in letter) My Dearest Corinne, I lied to you. I am sorry. I had to spare you. I lost hope. Our children died by my hand. I had to set them free to protect them from a fate worse than death. I know you will never be able to forgive me. But maybe, one day, you will understand that I had no choice. They did not suffer. Take comfort in that, my love. Rubin.

The Tourist explores the rest of the house and can take various items. Corpses litter the house, slumped over in the corner of rooms; one lies in the bathtub; another is duct taped to a bloody pool table. The Tourist enters one of the rooms and take a microphone from a desk. The walls of the bedroom are covered in crayon drawings. One of them depicts the Tower. Several show Tower soldiers shooting people. One shows a girl crying over a corpse. The Tourist leaves the house. They return to Corinne if they accepted the quest.

Corinne: Is it...over?

The Tourist gives her the ring.

Tourist: I recovered the ring.

Corinne: Thank you. This means the world to me. The only reminder of life before all of this. Rubin was a good husband. And an amazing father.

Tourist: Hold onto the good memories. They will keep you sane.

Corinne: I will. Here is the code to the safe, as promised. I hope that whatever is inside will prove useful. Safe journey.

Tourist: There is no delicate way to put this. Your husband killed your kids.

Corinne: What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why would you say that to me?! After everything I have been through? What fucking proof do you have, huh? SHOW ME PROOF!


The Tourist gives the letter to Corinne.

Tourist: I found this note. I'm sorry.

Corinne: I see. Please. Leave me be. Take the fucking code to the safe. I don't care.

Corinne gives the Tourist a piece of paper. It says, "HIDDEN IN THE BLUE PALACE" and has a 4-digit code written on it (the code is randomized for each player).

Task completed: The Ring

The Tourist returns to the blue mansion and finds the safe. They enter the code (if they have it) and open the safe. Inside, there is a book (Handguns - An Idiot's Guide), several boxes of ammo, and a pistol. The Tourist leaves the Shallows.


The Tourist connects the battery, antenna, and microphone to the radio.

Task completed: Repair the Radio

Task added to journal: Make Contact - Henri wrote about a National Guard Soldier's journal that had information about how to reach the Reserve over radio. Better give it a look to see what it can tell me.

The Tourist adjusts the radio until they can pick up a signal, then turns to channel 61.

Tourist: Hello?

(There is no response. The Tourist must choose the other option.)

Tourist: Waterfall.

Casey: What did you just say?

Tourist: Waterfall.

Tourist: I said, "Waterfall".

Casey: That's not possible. Who is this?

Tourist: Just someone who enjoys waterfalls. Horsetail, punchbowl, cascade. Big fan of all varieties.

Casey: That supposed to be funny? I'm not laughing.

Tourist: Just another survivor.

Casey: No. I'm not buying it.

Tourist: Who are you?

Casey: Nope. Not falling for that.

Casey: You alone?

Tourist: I'm alone.

Casey: That's a lie.

Tourist: Actually, it's the truth. No one here but me. You have my word.

Casey: Your word doesn't mean shit to me. Not yet.

(If the Tourist said it was true.)

Tourist: "Not yet"? You testing me?

Casey: Maybe. If you're straight with me, our conversation continues. And believe me, I'm someone you want on your side. I know things. Things you're not going to get from any other source. But I need to know you're above-board. We both want answers, but mine come first.

Tourist: Fuck you.

Casey: Getting testy? Good. Now we're getting somewhere. If you're straight with me, our conversation continues. And believe me, I'm someone you want on your side. I know things. Things you're not going to get from any other source. But I need to know you're above-board. We both want answers, but mine come first.

Tourist: I might be.

Casey: No, wrong answer. Let's try this again. Are you alone? Yes or no?

(The Tourist can pick another option.)

Tourist: Why does that matter?

Casey: I'm asking the questions. Are you alone? Do not lie. I will find out, then this conversation is over.

(The Tourist can pick another option.)

(If the Tourist asked why or said maybe.)

The Tourist looks at the jester figurine above the radio.

Tourist: Someone else is here. Weird little guy. Staring me down. Doesn't blink at all and he's got this twisted grin plastered on his filthy face.

Casey: Tell me what he looks like.


Tourist: He's really short. I'd say twelve inches, head to toe. Kinda chubby. Got his hands on his hips all the time. Creeping me out, honestly.

Tourist: He has a really big head. Not sure how his neck holds it up. Slightest move and his head starts bobbling and keeps bobbling...

Casey: Shut up, smartass. You're fucking with me, and I don't appreciate it. If you're straight with me, our conversation continues. And believe me, I'm someone you want on your side. I know things. Things you're not going to get from any other source. But I need to know you're above-board. We both want answers, but mine come first.

Casey: Okay. I believe you're alone. And I'm pretty sure I know who you are. What I'm most curious about is how you found this station and why you said "Waterfall".

Tourist: I came across a journal. Belonged to a soldier. This frequency, "Waterfall", New Orleans, written in it.

Casey: Anyone else know about it?

Tourist: An old timer named Henri, but he's dead. No clue about anyone else.

Casey: Fuck. Okay. Shit. Sorry...uh...

Tourist: Just me.

Casey: Good. Let's keep it that way.

Tourist: You think you know who I am? Alright. Tell me...

Casey: Okay, fine. I'll play along. I suspect you're the one I'm hearing all the radio chatter about. The drifter? The one they call the Tourist?

Tourist: You're right.

Casey: You come up with that?

Tourist: I did not. Catchy, though.

Tourist: What kinda jackass creates their own nickname? No, I did not. Catchy, though.

Tourist: Folks in the bayou called me Tourist. Guess they thought I didn't belong there. Was catchy, though, so I decided to roll with it.

Casey: Yeah, I'll admit it is. And your reputation precedes you. Let's get back to "Waterfall"...

Tourist: Who the fuck is the Tourist?

Casey: Yeah, whatever. You're not fooling anybody, Tourist. Drop the act, and let's get back to "Waterfall".

(If the Tourist asked who they were.)

Tourist: It came to me in a dream, okay? What difference does it make? Fact is, I knew the frequency, I knew the password.

Casey: You're right. Fuck it. It doesn't matter. But one thing does... Anyone else know about it?

Tourist: An old timer named Henri, but he's dead. No clue about anyone else.

Casey: Fuck. Okay. Shit. Sorry...uh...

Tourist: Just me.

Casey: Good. Let's keep it that way.

Casey: Okay. I got what I need for now. I know you're telling the truth. Just remember, I've got ears everywhere. I hear it all. From every angle, okay? Nothing gets past me.

Tourist: I get it.

Tourist: I get it. You're paranoid with really big supersonic ears. A great combination.

Casey: I'm cautious and I'm resourceful. Don't forget it.

Casey: Your turn. Keep it brief. I've got shit to do.

Tourist: The Reserve. What do you know about it?

Casey: I've heard of it.

Tourist: You've probably heard more than most. How about sharing some knowledge?

Casey: How would I know more than anyone else?

(If the Tourist asked what he heard or if that was all.)

Tourist: You mentioned your ears were everywhere. You heard of me before I even set foot in NOLA. Seems like someone so "informed" would know a bit more than the average schmuck when it comes to the thing everyone is talking about. Right?

Casey: Not necessarily.

Tourist: I'll let it go. For now.

Tourist: Not too friendly, are we? Alright. I'll drop it for now.

Tourist: Everyone's heard of it. You'd have to live in a hole in the ground not to. I'm interested in more than that.

Casey: How would I know more than anyone else?

Tourist: Everything I've found out about the Reserve points to this radio station. To you. You know something you're not telling me. But, hey, if you aren't willing to share right now, I'm willing to back off. Fair?

Casey: Uh...okay. Sure.

Tourist: You know what to call me, but I don't know what to call you. You got a name?

Casey: Yeah. It's Casey.

Tourist: Nice to meet you, Casey. Where you from?

Casey: Not here. When I got assigned, I was happy, though. It was my first choice...fuck, never mind.

Tourist: Are you in the military, Casey? What branch?

Casey: Uh, yeah. National Guard. Look, enough about me.



Casey: I'm not telling you my name, okay? So, don't ask any more.

Tourist: No need for the attitude. Where you from? Can you share that?

Tourist: Okay. Calm down. We're just chatting. Mind if I ask where you're from?

Casey: Long way from here, but NOLA was where I wanted to be assigned, so...fuck...look...enough about me already.

Tourist: I came to NOLA to meet up with an old-timer named Henri. Speaking to you through his radio. He wound up dead, along with a bunch of other folks...

Casey: Um...look...I don't know anything about a dead old man...

Tourist: What about the people who killed him? Or why he was hung upside down like a slaughterhouse cow? Know anything about them? They seemed interested in tracking you down too.

Tourist: The "old man" had a name and it was Henri. And it seems Henri was trying to track you down. There must have been a reason, right?

Casey: I'm telling you, I don't know anything about what's going on up there. There's no reason to track me down.

Tourist: What do you mean by "up there"? If you're not up here with the rest of us, where are you?

Casey: That's...classified. You don't have clearance... In fact, I don't even know why I'm talking to you right now...

Tourist: Henri was onto something. That was clear. And it must have been clear to the fuckers that killed him too. I've been straight with you, so why not be straight with me? Maybe we can help each other. Cut the bullshit and tell me why Henri was so desperate to contact you...

Casey: I told you already, I don't know anything about anything.

A crashing sound is heard, and a lantern outside is illuminated. Birds squawk and fly away from the graveyard.

Casey: What the fuck was that?! They coming for you? SHIT!

Tourist: It's windy here. I don't know. Probably nothing. Hold on...

Casey: Bullshit! You know what, fuck you and your lying. I'm done with this!

Tourist: There's something going on over here. Hold on just a minute...

Casey: Fuck...shit...I never should have...no. This ends now. Right fucking now...

Task added to journal: What was that?! - My conversation with the man on the radio was interrupted. A crash, a lantern lit, someone was in this graveyard...and they want me to know it.

Task completed: Make Contact


The Tourist walks through the graveyard. They reach the area near the illuminated lantern. Chalk drawings of buildings cover the ground and mausoleums. Several lit candles are placed at the base of an angel statue. The Tourist takes the picture attached to the wall near the gate; it shows a truck driving through an ornate archway. The Tourist finds an open mausoleum covered in drawings and candles, with a stairway leading below-ground. They walk down the stairs and into the crypt, using their flashlight to illuminated the area. "BE WARNED" is written on the wall in red, with a symbol next to it. Near a plaque about the church, there is a chained door. There are various epitaphs in the catacombs for those entombed there. Some of the alcoves in the wall contain statues, with flowers, candles, and broken coffins nearby. Bodies, debris, and overgrown plants cover the passageways. The Tourist walks through the crypt, killing a few walkers along the way. On the ground near the exit, they find another note about May Benoit being "a traitor, a liar, and a thief". The Tourist exits the crypt and explores the area, where walkers are wandering nearby. The Tourist notices that they are in the area from the picture with the ornate gate. They explore the area and find a picture of the graveyard gate, as well as a key. They walk back through the crypt and return to the cemetery. The Tourist uses the key to unlock the gate. They enter the area, which contains the lantern, and find an open tomb with a skeleton inside and candles on the ground. They take a detailed drawing out of the tomb; it depicts a house with a banner on it labeled "TOWER", and a fountain in the backyard. They take the note out of the tomb.

May: (in letter) Henri, I found two more exiles wandering around the Northwest Corridor today. Was able to get them to safety, get them supplies for a few days. They said it's getting ruthless on the other side of the Tower wall. More people exiled every week. We are making a difference out here but if this pace keeps up, I just don't know. We're going to need more help, more intel to stay one step ahead of the bastards. The mudslinging posters with my face plastered on them are not helping the situation. Ambre rips them down whenever she sees one but they are everywhere, as I'm sure you've noticed. I know you want to simplify our system for the Tower cache raids but I need to keep to the shadows. The Sinclair casket and the lantern is working, so we may as well stick with it. Lantern on when there's something for you, off when there's something for me. This way, I can keep my distance, see what's up until I know it's clear. As usual, our resident Picasso has provided a sketch to guide you to the next Tower cache. I know I am biased, but the kid's got ability, right? Maybe you can sit for a portrait one day. Ambre would love that. Same deal with the cache. Supplies are yours, the intel you drop off to me. Be safe... May.

Task added to journal: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. I - Henri had a deal with the most wanted woman in New Orleans. She pointed him to valuable Tower caches; he kept the supplies and brought her the Tower intel. The next cache is at Via Carolla.

When the Tourist is ready, they take the skiff to Via Carolla.

Via Carolla

The Tourist arrives at a dilapidated neighborhood. They find a note on the wall with "CRESCENT CITY TOWER" written across the top.

Mama: (in letter) Now is NOT the time to be selfish. Now is the time to commit to a community. To be part of something. Our vision for the future is rooted in hope. It ensures a future for humanity. Cast despair aside. There is no point clinging to it. Do not commit to isolation. Dedicate yourself to a grander purpose, and you will not be alone. Trust in us to guide you, and we will put our trust in you. Within our walls, you will be safe. Within our walls, your needs will be met. Within our walls, life goes on. The Tower Will Always Stand. Mama.

The Tourist explores the neighborhood, finding some Reclaimed soldiers and some Tower soldiers.

Tower and Reclaimed Soldiers' Comments

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: Who's sneaking around?

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: Just another lost soul...

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: Who's there?

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: What was that?

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: I see you.

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: That's "the Tourist"? Doesn't look so tough...

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: I suggest you get lost.

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: Quit poking around...

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: Find somewhere else to be.

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: Nothing better to do?

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: Think it's wise to be wandering around?

Tower/Reclaimed Soldier: I don't even like the way you walk.

The Tourist finds Reclaimed soldiers standing across the street from the Tower house seen in Ambre's drawing. Walkers wander nearby.

Reclaimed Soldiers' Comments

Reclaimed Soldier: Heard something...

Reclaimed Soldier: I smell something rotten...

Reclaimed Soldier: Wanderers...what a waste...

The Tower and Reclaimed soldiers get into a shootout.

Soldiers' Comments During Fight

Reclaimed Soldier: Gonna knock some sense into your Tower skull.

Reclaimed Soldier: Time for the Tower to fall.

Reclaimed Soldier: Second time's the charm.

Reclaimed Soldier: This Tower asshole belongs in the ground.

Reclaimed Soldier: Advantage is ours!

Tower Soldier: Fuck you and your stupid idols!

Whoever died during the battle can turn into a walker if they were not shot in the head. The Tourist walks to the end of the street and enters a broken hole in the wall. Strings of barbed wire with cans on them are placed across the courtyard, and the Tourist cuts them down. The Tourist finds a ledger in the fountain. It contains a list of people who will be exiled or executed by the Tower.

Georgia: (in letter) May Benoit has the "Waterfall" KEY. Find her, GET IT! No RESERVE without it, understand? Mama is through fucking around with this. Snag Ambre if you have to, can use the fucking brat as trade bait. This MUST happen. Going to have to expand lists otherwise.

The Tourist returns home.


The Tourist puts the ledger in the tomb and closes it. They wait for the lantern to be lit. They can radio Casey.

Casey: You there? Hello? It's Casey... If you're there, please answer. I...I've got a situation...please...

Tourist: I can hear you. What is it?

Tourist: Not sure I want to waste my time.

Casey: Yeah. I got spooked the other day. That crash rattled me. I'm sorry. It's just...I don't know who to trust. Not many decent options out there. But I'm getting desperate. So I need to take a chance. On you. What do you think? Can you help me out? Please?

Tourist: You've got my attention.

Tourist: You weren't exactly polite the last time we had a chat.

Casey: Look, I have nowhere else to turn. And besides, if you help me out, I'll be able to return the favor. So, just hear me out, okay?

Casey: I've been hearing things from the Tower radio chatter. They found something, and I need it. Bad. Problem is, I have no way to get my hands on it without help. Without you. I'm willing to give up what I know about the Reserve in exchange. That sound fair?

Tourist: You don't have to lay it on so thick, Casey. Tell me what you need, then I'll tell you if I'm willing to help.

Tourist: What do you need?

Casey: A pump flow regulator. A Tower patrol found it by Memorial Lane in the Garden District. Just another useless piece of junk to them. Problem is, there is a potential showdown brewing over there between the patrol and a Reclaimed camp. Could get bloody quickly.

Tourist: What else? I like to be fully informed before putting my ass on the line.

Casey: Fair enough. What do you want to know?

Tourist: What's the area like?

Casey: The Garden District was one of the wealthiest areas of the city, so, no surprise, it avoided most of the flood damage. The folks hit hardest by the flood picked it as a spot for a memorial to victims. Two weeks later, when the dead started walking, the whole city was a damn memorial.

Tourist: Why are they fighting?

Casey: Resources, territory, two opposed ways of thinking butting heads. From everything I've been hearing on the radio last couple of months, the bad blood just keeps getting worse. I'm staying out of it, but I can feed you more details if you want.

Tourist: Who's running the show for each faction?

Casey: Mama leads the Tower. She founded the community. Don't know much else about her. She stays out of sight. Her right hand, her enforcer, is Georgia. She is out there on the front lines daily. From what I hear, she's a hardass. Not afraid to mix it up, get her hands dirty. The Reclaimed rally around this guy JB. No clue what it stands for. He's always proselytizing over the airwaves, frequency 54, denouncing the Tower, saying they're already dead. Freaks me out a bit, but there's no denying he has charisma.

Tourist: How do they operate? What do they believe in?

Casey: The Tower is disciplined and committed to community. Everyone has to contribute to the cause. They must be doing something right. I've heard they have close to a thousand people inside their walls. Tower folks are fiercely loyal to their way of life. Maybe even to a fault. Bunch of loose cannons in the Reclaimed. Hard to know what they're up to most of the time. Their tactics are all about surprise and intimidation. Guerilla warfare mentality. And they love creeping Tower people out. Weird rituals and stuff. They seem less interested in control and more into sending a message.

Tourist: What's your take on all this?

Casey: If the fighting keeps up, this city is going to explode into an all-out war. The Tower maintains some sort of order, right? I mean, they offer some sort of semblance of safety, sure, but they don't hesitate to toss people out if they question their authority. Once the Tower kicks your ass out, there's no return. Seems cruel, but I don't know. Maybe that's the way it has to be. The Reclaimed are...eccentric. Let's put it that way. But JB really knows how to motivate, get people to buy into his vision. Maybe they're crazy, maybe they're onto something. Who knows? They are inspired, though. Always going on about the "liberation to live", not just blindly following orders to barely survive. I don't know. Maybe they're both a bit fucked in the head.

Tourist: I've heard enough info on the conflict.

Casey: Okay. Sorry. I know I can ramble sometimes.

Tourist: I'm ready to do this.

Casey: The pump regulator is a piece of industrial equipment, about the size of a coffee maker, Pipes, switches, knobs. You'll know it when you see it. The Tower patrol has it at their camp. Red house on Memorial Lane. And remember, Reclaimed are nearby, so you might get caught in the middle of a scrap between them. Once you have it in hand, hustle back to the radio and contact me. Time is not on my side. If you pull this off, I'll spill everything I know about the Reserve. You have my word.

Task added to journal: The Kindness of Strangers - That kid on the radio, Casey, has a request. He'll share info on the Reserve if I can acquire some machinery from Memorial Lane. It's in a red house controlled by the Tower.

The Tourist sees that the lantern has been lit. They take the letter out of the open tomb.

May: (in letter) I know Henri is dead. And I know that, for the time being, you have stepped into his shoes, whoever you are. I am not in the habit of trusting people these days. Trust gets you dead when it's given to the wrong person. And there's a lot of wrong out there. But I am willing to set prejudice aside for a few moments so we can have a little chat. See if we can work together. I'm assuming you scored a few useful things out of that last Tower cache. Well, there is more where that came from as long as nothing happens to me. Understood? Get yourself to the churchyard. Get yourself to the gate so you can reach the area. Stay out in the open. If I am satisfied you are alone, you will see me.

Task completed: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. I

Task added to journal: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. II - In response to me bringing her Tower intel, May wants to meet outside of the nearby church. Probably wants to get a read on me. I wouldn't mind doing a bit of reading myself. Should be able to reach the churchyard through the catacombs now thanks to her.

The Tourist walks through the graveyard.

It shows Henri strung up on the tree and a shadowy figure standing next to him.

The Tourist goes through the catacombs and exits through a passageway leading up to a dilapidated neighborhood.

The Resting Place

The Tourist walks through the area and finds May standing in front of one of the houses.

May: Don't get used to meeting like this. It's a rarity.

Tourist: I understand. It's almost impossible to know who to trust.

Tourist: I'm not fond of the face-to-face either. Too much work.

May: Alright. Then we're on the same page. I'll get to the point. Why are you helping me?

Tourist: Henri trusted you, so that's good enough for me.

May: Were you two friends?

Tourist: I wouldn't say we were friends. I liked the guy. He presented a genuine opportunity, so I went for it.

May: Henri definitely had an eye for opportunity.

Tourist: I guess you could say we were new friends, sure. I saved his ass from a slew of walkers in the bayou. I liked talking to the guy. He had a way about him.

May: He sure did. My daughter was fond of him. Loved the way he could spin a tale.

May: Well, may he rest in peace. You got some curmudgeonly shoes to fill.

Tourist: I can recognize an opportunity when I see it. And there just aren't too many opportunities presenting themselves these days.

May: Figured if you see this angle through to its conclusion, you might be better off in the long run? Regardless, seems like we can help each other.

Tourist: Seems like your heart is in the right place. Can't say that for most.

May: Maybe we'll get along after all. Regardless, seems like we can help each other.

May: I'll point you to Tower caches with useful supplies, and you get me the intel they contain. Sound like a deal?

Tourist: You've got yourself a deal.

Tourist: Maybe, but I have a question first. The Tower seems to be after you and your daughter hard-core. What's that all about?

May: You spotted those posters, huh? You wanna go there? Alright, I'll give you the basics. I used to be with the Tower. Now I'm not. We don't see eye to eye. I am in the right. They are in the wrong. That's all I got for you now. You still on board?

Tourist: Yeah. I'm on board.

May: Good. Glad that's settled.


May: Take this drawing...

May hands the Tourist a detailed drawing of a building with an arrow pointing to it.

Task added to journal: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. III - May and I have an understanding now. I get her intel from Tower outposts, and I keep any loot I can find there. May helps exiles, and I help myself. Next drop is at the Ward.

May: There's some intel at the location in the drawing. When you have it, leave it for me at the usual spot.

Tourist: Consider it done.

Tourist: What's with the drawing?

May: My daughter Ambre has a gifted eye and a gifted hand. It's her way of staying sane. She's watching right now. Probably documenting this exact moment. Or maybe she's just sketching a dead cat. I never know.

Task completed: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. II

The Tourist returns to the graveyard. They radio Casey if they have not already done so. They take the skiff to Memorial Lane.

Memorial Lane

The Tourist explores the area.

Mama: (in poster) This is not just my story. This is our story. The story of our Tower. Part One: Humble Beginnings. I am not a born leader, but by the time I was thirteen years old, I had seen it all. Hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, starvation, disease. Haiti never seemed to catch a break. So when the dead started to rise and panic overtook my adopted home of New Orleans, I was ready to rise. My neighbors were scared but they were also resilient. All they needed was a voice to rally around, and in a moment of pure passion, a moment charged with a desperate drive to make certain we all survived, I took the lead. And they listened. But those first few days were pure chaos. So much loss, and yet, we were able to gain a foothold in the 9th Ward. We put our collective minds to work. Set up a scavenge system that was both safe and fruitful. Word started getting out. If you wanted to survive, go find Mama and her people. But soon, our community had outgrown the capacity of our perimeter, a decision had to be made. Start turning others away or venture forth and establish a new home that could support every lost soul who found their way to our doorstep. I think you can guess what decision I made. The Tower Will Always Stand, Mama.

The Tourist passes by a house with a hole in the wall. Teresa stands inside.

Teresa: No one gets inside. Strict orders. You have a problem with that, see Jeff. He's around the corner.

Andre's and Jeff's Comments

Andre: Jeff is fucking beside himself. Those Reclaimed shits camped across the street and nabbed his dumbass brother. Wouldn't be surprised to see Anthony missing his insides by nightfall.

Jeff: Anthony...how could he be so dense. He should have known better. What was he thinking? These are people who have chosen to be savages, not rational people. Not people who understand and appreciate what the Tower has accomplished.

The Tourist walks up to Jeff and Andre.

Jeff: You get nerve, rolling in here uninvited.

Tourist: Don't mean to intrude.

Jeff: We don't need strays poking around right now. We have enough problems to deal with.

Tourist: I'll clear out quick. Just need to recover something. Probably useless to you. Mind if I take a look around?

Jeff: Yeah, we mind! We have enough problems to deal with right now. Not going to let some stray scrounge on our turf.

Tourist: I prefer to think of myself as a free agent. Open to all opportunities.

Tourist: Maybe I'm the solution.

Jeff: You know what? Yeah. You might prove useful. My brother is in some deep shit. A pack of Reclaimed scum snatched him. Anthony is a good kid. Bit dim, but he doesn't deserve whatever those freaks have in store. We can't get anywhere near where they're holed up. Light blue house across the way. They'll gut him immediately if they see us coming. But you? They don't know you. You'll be able to stroll right in. After that, whatever you need to do, that's your business. Personally, I'd put a few bullets right through their skulls. Let the dirt "reclaim" them.

Tourist: I like to know what I'm up against ahead of time. What are their numbers exactly?

Jeff: We've seen as many as four on the second floor. But you never know. They multiply like rats.

Tourist: What's in it for me?

Jeff: If he comes back alive, I'll let you snag a few things from our supplies. We've got some meds, decent grub, ammo too. Just don't get greedy.

Tourist: How did he get caught?

Jeff: Like I said, he's stupid. Cocky too. Not a good combination. I keep telling him he needs to toe the line. The Tower brass doesn't appreciate recklessness. Maybe this whole situation will teach him a hard lesson.

Tourist: Sounds like I can be of service.

Jeff: Get to it, then. Knowing how those savages operate, he might not have much time before they execute him.

Task added to journal: My Brother's Keeper - Seems a group of Reclaimed have captured a member of the Tower. However this plays out, it may get me one step closer to the pump parts in the red house.

Tourist: Think I'm going to sit this one out.

Jeff: You have a chance to save a life here. Does that mean nothing to you? We're even offering supplies. Most strays would jump on this. If you wise up, come back and see me.

The Tourist goes over to the light blue house. They sneak under or cuts the barbed wire in front of the house and open the door. Inside, they find a candlelit shrine and a zombified man hanging upside-down from the ceiling with his hands bound and a bag over his face. They go upstairs and see several Reclaimed. Horace points a gun at a bruised and bloodied Anthony, who is shaking and putting up his hands.

Horace's Comments

Horace: You can whine all day and night. It ain't gonna change a goddamn thing.

Horace: You're sorry? Do you realize how pathetic that sounds? Sorry ain't enough to forgive what you did, you fuck!

Horace: I want this fucker to suffer. I want his mind to snap thinking about the torture and pain he has coming his way.

The Tourist walks up to Horace.

Horace: Who the hell are you? The negotiator? Big, tough Jeff too chickenshit to show his face and beg for his little brother's life? Not sure I really see the point.

Tourist: I guess I'm here to negotiate a deal for Anthony's release.

Horace: Release? That some kind of joke? That motherfucker isn't going anywhere but in the dirt. Where maggots belong.

Tourist: What did he do?

Tourist: Looks like I just walked in on something that's none of my business.

Horace: I smell bullshit. It's unwise to wander where you don't belong and you don't strike me as a fool. But, hey. I'm willing to play along. We could use some entertainment around here. We are about to execute this filth. Want to know why?

Tourist: Enlighten me.


Horace: This subhuman shit is a murderer. My daughter is dead. The Tower is at fault, and he is at fault. The Tower preaches community, and yet, they toss out those most in need because they are no longer useful. Because they are a burden. Violet was not a burden. She was a human being. But this fucker treated her like trash. He could have disobeyed orders, but he did not. He forced her out. Left her to die. She was eleven years old. Where is your head at, stranger? Exterminate this Tower fuck right now and we won't have a problem. Then we can pay the rest of the vermin a visit. And once they are a pile of corpses, whatever is in their camp, it's yours. Consider it a gift from the Reclaimed.

Tourist: He doesn't have to die. You can be merciful.

Horace: Where was the mercy for Violet? Huh? You're fucked in the head! Just like the rest of them! Get out of my face before I tear yours off!

Tourist: It's difficult. But sometimes, we have to choose justice. I'll take care of him.

Tourist: He deserves to die. And I will gladly do it.

Anthony's Comments

Anthony: I tried to make things right... I tried...

Anthony: I followed orders. That's all I'm guilty of, please. It wasn't my decision. If I didn't do it, someone else would have...there was no preventing her exile...

Anthony: I am sorry...please...

Anthony: What I did was horrible. I admit it. But...please...you don't have to do this...

Horace's Comments

Horace: Put a bullet through that murderer's skull...

Horace: Do it already! Finish the fucker!

Horace: What's with the hesitation? Quit thinking and do the fucking deed!

Horace: What's the holdup?

The Tourist kills Anthony.

Horace: We did what we had to do. Right? One less brain-dead Tower slug plaguing the world. Fuck it! I think it's time to put some pressure on these fuckers. We're outnumbered, but we have momentum, right? Yeah. The time is right fucking now! You with us?

Tourist: No time like the present.

Horace: That's the attitude! We've got this! Let's send a message that the future belongs to the Reclaimed.

The Reclaimed kill the Tower soldiers.


Tourist: I prefer to work alone.

Horace: A lone wolf approach. I respect that. I'd wish you luck, but you don't seem to think you need it.

The Tourist kills the Reclaimed soldiers. Anthony leaves the blue house and enters the red one. The Tourist approaches Jeff, who is now standing in front of the red house.

Jeff: I was skeptical, but you pulled it off. I didn't think I was ever gonna see my little bro again. You have my thanks. Anything you can scrounge up in that house is yours, as promised. No hassle from us. You did a good thing today.

The Tourist can talk to Anthony.

Anthony: You've given me a second chance. Thank you. I promise to make the most of it.

Task completed: My Brother's Keeper

Anthony: (in letter) Hey, big brother. There's not much to say beyond I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I'm a wreck, Jeff. I keep seeing that little girl's face. These visions of her turning. This whole mess is fucking with my head. What did the Martins do to deserve being exiled? It makes no sense. They are good people. I know this might put you in a tough spot, please forgive me, but I need to make things right. At least give them a slim chance to survive out there. I swiped some supplies from our camp, so you know who to blame. Don't want any other innocent people taking heat. I'm going out to find the Martins and deliver the stuff. Least I can do. I pray it will help get my head straight. I can't take much more otherwise. If I'm not back before the bells, wish me luck. Your little bro, Anthony.

The Tourist takes the pump flow regulator and dial from the house and returns to the graveyard.


The Tourist attaches the dial to the regulator and radios Casey.

Tourist: You there, Casey? Come in.

Casey: Yeah, yeah. I'm here. Wow. You're back...did you get it?

Tourist: Had to deal with some shit, but I got what you needed. I delivered. Now it's...

Tourist: You're surprised? You didn't think I was going to come through, did you? Well, guess what? I did.

Casey: I didn't know. It's insane out there. All kinds of shit could have gone wrong. But, hey...

Casey: This is great! Finally some progress. It's a relief. Okay. Let me find the manual for that thing and we can get it calibrated.

Tourist: You're stalling, Casey. I want to hear what you got on the Reserve. Not doing anything until you hold up your end. We clear?

Casey: Yes. All clear. Okay...

Tourist: Spill what you know about the Reserve right now. Or I may have to misplace this contraption.

Casey: Okay, jeez, you're right. I owe you. No need for threats. I'll tell you what I know.

Casey: The Reserve is real. But you already knew that, right? What you don't know is that I am in it. It's an old military bunker, built in the 50s or 60s. Right after the flood, the National Guard used it as a staging area to distribute disaster relief supplies. But once the dead started walking and things really went to shit, I had no choice but to get inside and hunker down. I thought I was safe for a little while, but now I'm fucked. The floodwater up top was too much for the Reserve's pump system. It malfunctioned and now the whole place is on lockdown. I'm stuck in the comm room. I'm running out of time. I need to get out of here. Soon. God, I can't wait to see the sky again.

Tourist: I've been working with someone named May. She claims to have a key to the Reserve. You know anything about this?

Casey: If your May is May Benoit, then, yeah. I've heard of her. Tower is always tossing her name around on the airwaves. They are really after her ass. Consider her a major threat. I don't know anything about a key to the Reserve, though. I'll do some research. If I discover anything, I'll let you know.

Tourist: You were the only one to make it inside?

Casey: Well...no. There were others...but...they didn't stay. They had to leave.

Tourist: If the bunker was safe, why did they leave?

Casey: Like I said, they left. They had to take care of something. Okay? Nothing else to say about it.

Tourist: Who were the others?

Casey: National Guard. Like me. Look, none of this matters right now. So, that's all I have to say.

Tourist: Rumors are all over the place. What exactly is inside the Reserve?

Casey: Most of the rumors are true. Food, meds. Tons of it. I mean, the entire haul was meant to help tens of thousands of people in the area after the flood. And there's a bunch of guns, ammo, and gear for the troops that were meant to distribute it. All military-grade, perfect condition. Problem is, I can't get to any of it. The whole bunker is locked down because of the floodwaters.

Tourist: What's the rush to get out of there?

Casey: Starvation, for one. I might have a couple weeks left of scraps down here. But none of that is going to matter if the floodwater sitting on top of this place breaks through. The comm room is filling up slowly right now, but it's only a matter of time before the ceiling collapses. Starvation, crushed, or drowned. Pick your poison, right?

Tourist: Starvation doesn't seem like an ideal way to go. The slow death...

Tourist: If you get crushed, at least it would be quick, right?

Tourist: Drowning sounds like a nightmare.

Casey: Yeah, well, with your help, I'm hoping to avoid all of it. Fuck, I'd rather take my chances on the surface with a hundred walkers coming at me. At least I'd have a fighting chance.

Casey: Look, Tourist...I'm not asking you to do this out of the kindness of your heart. There is clearly something in it for you. Big time. If the pumps get repaired, not only will I get out, but the supply rooms will all open up. All those disaster relief supplies, untouched. Not to mention enough weaponry and gear to arm multiple platoons...all for you to do with as you please. And for me? A fresh start and some fresh fucking air.

Tourist: You paint a pretty picture, but it sounds too good to be true.

Casey: I get it. I could totally be full of shit. But one thing I know, no one else can offer you what I can. Without me, the Reserve is going to remain buried. Forever. If you want the Reserve, you're going to have to work with me. It's the chance you have to take.

Tourist: Why do you need me to get you out? Plenty of people are looking for the Reserve. Why not get one of these groups to help you?

Casey: My gut tells me you're my best bet. The Tower and the Reclaimed are both after the Reserve, sure. Obsessed with it, you might say. They believe it will shift all the power in NOLA. But I just don't trust them. They're too absorbed by their agendas. You're unaligned. On your own, like me. We may as well help each other, right?

Tourist: You haven't been upfront with me so far. Why should I trust you?

Casey: Because my life is in your hands. I can't get out of this hole without your help. And, look... I get it. I could totally be full of shit. But one thing I know, no one else can offer you what I can. Without me, the Reserve is going to remain buried. Forever. If you want the Reserve, you're going to have to work with me. It's the chance you have to take.

Tourist: I'm willing to take the risk.

Casey: Fantastic. You won't regret it. It's been a long night, but I'm too wired to sleep. I'm going to turn this place upside-down until I find the manual. You should get some rest, though.

Tourist: I'm not sure about this. It's a lot to take in.

Casey: Nothing is certain in this fucked up world. I need your help or I'm dead. Think it over. It's been a long night. We should both get some shut-eye.

Casey: I'll contact you in the morning. Goodnight, Tourist.

The Tourist waits for Casey to radio again.

Casey: You there? Hello? It's Casey...

Tourist: Are you there?

Casey: Yeah! Glad to hear your voice. Ready to get started?

Tourist: Ready as I'll ever be.

Casey: Okay. Good. So, I found the manual for the pump flow regulator. Looks like we need to calibrate it before it can be installed. Each of the pumps has different flow requirements. And that component tells the rest of the system where to route water.


(Once the Tourist says yes.)

Task completed: The Kindness of Strangers

Task added to journal: When the Levee Breaks Pt. I - So the kid was in the Reserve the whole time, figures. Looks like I gotta scratch his back to get at it. Next step is to repair this pump by the church. Should be able to reach it through the catacombs.

Tourist: We should be able to figure this out.

Casey: I like that attitude! Okay. On the device, you should see a serial number. Read it to me.

Tourist: Calibration? Flow requirements? This is sounding complicated.

Casey: The manual is pretty clear. I should be able to talk you through it. Let's start with the serial number. Find it on the device and read it to me.

The Tourist checks the back of the pump flow regulator and finds the serial number.

Tourist: 4730589-01.

Casey: Okay. Now turn the dial until you get some feedback on Valve A. Then tell me the number you see.

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Feedback triggered on 55. The numbers turned green.

Casey: Okay, good...55... According to the manual, Valve B should be tuned to 28 degrees.

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve B to 28. Got it. All the numbers are green.

Casey: Perfect. Last valve. One second...one second...there we go! Valve C should be set to 67.

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve C set. All numbers green.

Casey: Awesome. Okay, almost there. Now it says "depress the automatic confirmation mechanism". Looking at the diagram here, it is a big round button. Should be obvious.

The Tourist presses the red button and it turns green.

Tourist: Alright, big round button pressed.

Casey: Yes! We are calibrated! Now you need to install this sucker into the pump. The pump is located outside of Saint Vincent's church. Beacon lights will be on to help find it, so that's good. Of course, will probably attract walkers, so that sucks. Just be ready. The systems down here will let me know when you've installed the regulator. Oh, and one more thing... A little tip that should make life a bit easier and scavenging more fruitful, since, you know, we're colleagues now, right? The Tower has a radio station, number 47, that broadcasts any significant discoveries in the city and the current schedule for stirring the herd. Might be wise to tune in before heading out for the day. Privileged intel, so, you know, let's keep it between us. Alright, gonna take a few moments to clear my head. I'll contact you when it's time for the next step. Good luck and...thanks.

Task added to journal: Crescent City News - TBC

The Tourist turns to channel 47.

Task completed: Crescent City News

The Tourist walks through the catacombs and goes to the Resting Place.

The Resting Place

The Tourist walks through the area. They can cover themselves in walker guts to travel steathily through the herd. They find the pump system outside the church, which is illuminated by a red light. They install the regulator into the system, and the light turns green. They return to the graveyard.


The Tourist can radio Casey.

Tourist: Hey, Casey. You there?

Casey: Yeah. Always here. Always thinking. My mind is always swirling with something these days. Impossible to shut it down.

Tourist: Difficult to maintain a steady mind, given the situation you're in.

Tourist: Doesn't make sense to get all worked up. If you want to survive, you need to focus. Steady your mind.

Casey: Yeah, well...I guess...but, you know...

Casey: This morning I realized something. I can't even remember the last time I saw the sky. It's been a while, at least. That much I know. Months. Wish I would have paid more attention. You ever been to the Badlands up in South Dakota?

Tourist: Never been.

Casey: That's a shame.

Tourist: Rolled through there once.

Casey: Spectacular, right?

Casey: Like another planet. My mom used to drive me through there every summer on the way to see my uncle. The night sky was so bright. So many stars, like a dome overhead. Crystal-clear view of the cosmos. Put a lot of things in perspective for me back when I really needed it. How insignificant we really are in the grand scheme of things. How my troubles, no matter how big they may seem, really don't mean squat. What are troubles, anyway? The universe doesn't know the meaning of the word. Wish I had that Badlands sky overhead right about now. First thing I'm going to do when free is head back north. Think I've had enough of swamp life.

Tourist: You mentioned your mom and uncle. You want to tell me about them?

Casey: My uncle died a while ago. Miss him a ton. We were friends. I looked up to him. Never really knew my dad, so...he kinda stepped in, when he could. My mom and I...we didn't always get along. No clue what happened to my mom, actually. When I left home and joined the Guard, we weren't speaking, which is fine by me. She never thought too much of me. Didn't think I'd ever amount to anything. Verdict is still out, I suppose.

Tourist: How did your uncle die?

Casey: Cancer.


Tourist: What was the problem with you and your mom?

Casey: Typical only child bullshit. Smothering me one second, cutting me down the next. I hated her for it. I reminded her of my dad, so she hated me for that.

Casey: Look, Tourist. I've had enough of the therapy session. Don't feel like talking anymore. Gonna put my head down for a bit. I'll talk to you soon.

Tourist: Heading up north might not be in the cards. Safe routes don't exist. The dead are everywhere.

Casey: I gotta try. I don't belong here. I knew it shortly after I arrived. Biggest mistake I ever made, that's for sure. But hell, you make stupid calls when you're young and desperate to get out of a bad situation. Right? Anyways...thanks for listening, Tourist. I feel better. Think I'm gonna lie down. See if I can picture that Badlands sky up in this rusty, dripping ceiling. Steady the mind, as you say. Talk to you soon.

Tourist: One thing the universe knows is infinite chaos. What it's always been best at. The dead walking is all the proof you need.

Casey: Yeah. I suppose you're right. You sound like my uncle.


Tourist: Sounds like your uncle is a smart guy.

Casey: He was a pretty smart guy, yeah. Tough as nails too. I looked up to him. Wish I could still talk with him, especially now. I still carry the note he wrote me when I finally graduated high school in my pocket. Three short sentences on a folded-up index card. If I make it out of here, maybe I'll show it to you. Kinda prophetic.

Casey: Ah, well... Anyways...thanks for listening, Tourist. I feel better. Think I'm gonna lie down. See if I can picture that Badlands sky up in this rusty, dripping ceiling. Steady the mind, as you say. Talk to you soon.

The Tourist waits for Casey to contact them. They can travel to the Ward.

The Ward

The Tourist is in an area filled with abandoned houses, warehouses, and vehicles. They explore the area.

Mama: (in poster) This is not just my story. This is our story. The story of our Tower. Part Two: Forty-Five Tall, Forty-Eight Strong. Our battles with the dead in those early days were vicious and exhausting. We had zero control and the fiends were everywhere. If our community was going to survive and grow, we had to radically rethink our approach. Our home and the area immediately around it need to be entirely within our control. With that in mind and while I stood atop one of our rickety barricades, I looked to the skyline and saw the promised land. A silhouette against the purple and orange of God's dazzling canvas, forty-five stories tall, calling to me. There is our new home, I thought, a place where we can flourish on our own terms. In two days, I had our entire community organized and ready to march. Forty-eight desperate but motivated souls, prepared to abandon what we had worked so hard to secure for the hope of a brighter future. The journey was through hell itself, so thick with the dead it took us three sleepless days and nights to travel just a single mile to the Tower gates, but by God, we made it, not one life lost. We did it was one determined heart, one determined soul. But as we stood there, gazing up at our future, filled with the hope of what it could become, we knew that the work was far from over. The Tower was a tomb. Each floor of the forty-five infested with the dead. One final challenge that we, the founders of our glorious community, were resolved to overcome by any means necessary.

The Tourist gets past barbed wire traps and approaches the building seen in the drawing, avoiding/killing the nearby Tower soldiers. When the bells ring, the soldiers leave. The Tourist sneaks into the building and takes the ledger.

Georgia: (in letter) The traitor bitch has been exploiting Tower safe routes so we are switching things up. Keep her on her toes. Maybe even rid the outskirts of some exiles while we're at it. New stirring schedules below... Georgia.

The Tourist returns home.


The Tourist puts the ledger in the casket, and the lantern turns off. Casey radios.

Casey: Morning, sunshine. You around?

Tourist: I'm here, Casey. What's up?

Casey: I've located another flow regulator. We need it to repair the second pump. And guess what? I woke up this morning with water up to my ankles. So, that sucks. Time is slipping away from me faster than I expected.

Tourist: What area is the regulator in? I'll track it down.

Tourist: Hope you took swimming lessons as a kid...

Casey: You're a real comedian, Tourist. If you're through with the jokes and feel like helping out a guy staring down a cold, creeping death...

Casey: The regulator is in Bywater. Blue collar part of town. Warehouses, auto repair shops, small homes shoved in where possible. There's a huge lumber yard out there too. From what I heard through Tower radio chatter, a bunch of valuable machinery was discovered in a storeroom. No specifics though. You're going to have poke around. Oh! And I looked into the key you mentioned. Hate to say it, but we need it. Only way to access the final pump station. So, you should keep things cool with May for the time being.

Tourist: What do you think of May?

Casey: Hard to tell. The Tower is really going after her. Spreading all kinds of unflattering words. But I don't trust much coming from them. Guess the verdict on May is still out for me. What about you?

Tourist: So far, she has held up her end of the bargain when I help her out. That's a solid sign.

Casey: Yeah. Hopefully things will stay that way.

Tourist: I don't have a clue. Hard to get a read on her. Not sure she can be trusted, but she hasn't proven otherwise, either.

Casey: Guess we just wait and see.

Tourist: I'll be as cool as the other side of the pillow, Casey.

Casey: Ha! I believe it.

Casey: And, hey...I want you to know how much I appreciate what you're doing for me. It's nice to know someone has my back for once. Beginning to actually believe I might survive this. There was a time when...ah, never mind...I'm trying to keep the dark thoughts out.

Tourist: You're welcome. Glad to help.

Tourist: Dark thoughts can give you the edge you need to survive. Remember that.

Casey: I guess. Not a fan, though. I prefer sleep.

Tourist: Ease up on the sentimentality, Casey. You know what I expect from all this. Better be worth it.

Casey: It is. Trust me.

Casey: Just hit me up you've snagged the pump part from Bywater. I'll do my best to stay dry in the meantime. Might try to elevate my cot a few feet so I don't wake up floating. Talk to you soon, Tourist. Stay safe up there.

Task completed: When the Levee Breaks Pt. I

Task added to journal: When the Levee Breaks Pt. II - Another set of pump parts, another step closer to the Reserve. Let's hope this cannery Casey mentioned doesn't put up a fight.

The Tourist sees that the lantern is lit. They take a detailed drawing of a house and a note out of the casket.

Task completed: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. III

Task added to journal: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. IV - Another errand for May, this time in Old Town. Hope the salvage's as good as last time.

May: (in letter) Hey, Tourist... Something you need to understand. For perspective. The Tower executed my husband. Cold blood. "Take the walk", they call it. Rooftop march, right over the edge. Forty-five stories. The whole rotten collective gathered to witness the plunge. Even people we considered dear friends, Carmen and Mika, Todd and Silva. They stood there. Watched, and said nothing. Gery was no cannibal. Georgia just wanted him gone. Was only a matter of time before I was next. Then Ambre. You question anything Georgia does? She will manufacture whatever she can to turn the Tower against you. She's got everyone afraid. So I got my hands on something they desperately need, the Reserve key, and we got out of there. I searched high and low for the door, but it became obvious real quick. Better chance to find the lair of the rougarou than this godforsaken Reserve. I'm through with the search. Let everyone else kill each other over it. The key is just insurance for me at this point. Bargaining chip, in case Ambre ever gets captured. Not interested in brokering any other deals for it. That's as direct as I can be. As far as the next cache is concerned, keep your eyes peeled for marked up maps. Showing pockets where the walker population isn't so dense. They might be the only safe spaces in New Orleans. That's all I'm after right now. Rest of the cache is yours. Meds, ammo, food, maybe even a few surprises. Definitely enough to keep a pro scavenger happy. May.

The Tourist travels to Bywater.


The Tourist explores the area.

Mama: (in poster) This is not just my story. This is our story. The story of our Tower. Part Three: The Climb to a Brighter Future. Floor by floor we fought. Five bloody and costly weeks to clear the entire building. By the time our climb was through and the building was secure, our numbers were reduced to thirty-six. Twelve brave and beautiful souls lost, but their sacrifices were not in vain. We had our home. Our Tower. Word of our success spread like a wildfire. Every day, more and more survivors found their way to our gates and we welcomed them with arms wide open. We had the room to grow and we grew quickly. In those early days, we were unified and as a result, we were prosperous. One collective mind, one collective vision. They allowed us to regain control of our lives. But as the population grew, dissent found its way into the collective and reared its ugly head at the most difficult of times. And what did we do? Did we crumble? Did we change course? No. We persevered, as we have from the beginning. We knew that our future remained bright if we stayed committed to what brought us to our Tower in the first place. So let's not allow all the noise to knock us back down to the ground from the heights we have already achieved. Let's continue to climb, together. We must cut loose those who burden us with their petty squabbles, their poisonous minds and their freeloading ways. Trust in Mama when I say: We are better off without them. Have I ever steered you wrong?

Davon's Comments

Davon: Over here.

Davon: Give me just a minute. Please.

The Tourist can approach Davon.

Davon: We have to keep our voices down. I'm in a bind and I need a third party to set some wheels in motion. Someone unaligned. Nothing shady, I swear.

Tourist: You've got my attention. What do you need?

Davon: Meet me on the opposite side of this building. Can't risk being overheard or seen.

Task added to journal: Forbidden Love - Reclaimed man named Davon needs some help. Hard to get a read, lots of secrecy. Worth a look...if it can get me closer to the pump parts, all the better.


If the Tourist accepted the task, Davon starts walking through the building to the other side, and the Tourist follows.

Davon's Comments to Tourist and other Reclaimed

Davon: Once I'm sure we're out of earshot, I'll go over everything.

Davon: We've got this place locked down! Haven't seen a corpse for hours!

Davon: I really appreciate this.

Davon: West side is clear! Gonna scope the north!

Davon: That last JB broadcast was something else! Shook me to the core! Those Tower fuckers need to hear the truth!

Davon and the Tourist reach the back of the building.

Davon: You made it. Good. Okay. Here's the deal. I used to be with the Tower, and I was happy there, really. But I got a tendency to get mouthy, and there were some things I saw that didn't sit right with me. So, I spoke my mind. My boyfriend warned me, but I didn't listen. I thought I could get through to these people, but, whatever. Long story short, they kicked my ass out. I connected with the Reclaimed out of necessity, to survive. But I don't belong with them. I belong with Justin. He and I, we need to put all this Tower and Reclaimed bullshit behind us. We need to make our own way.

Tourist: This is between you and your boyfriend. Why should I get involved?

Davon: I ain't gonna blow smoke up your ass. Ask you to help because you "believe in love". I know how this works.

Tourist: Seems like you know what you need to do. What do you need me for?

Davon: I need to reconnect with Justin and we need to get the fuck out of this hell.

Davon: I've written Justin a letter. Lays out my plan for us to reunite, then jet. You play postal worker, get him the letter, then we can talk reward. Time is working against us. I'm afraid one of us might bite it before we see each other again. Tower and Reclaimed don't exactly get along, as I'm sure you know, so you can see the dilemma. If the guy who runs my patrol finds out I'm communicating with the Tower, that's it for me. Walker food. Justin is stationed with a Tower patrol in the area. Tom's lumber yard, just across the way. Fuck, if things get crazy, we might accidentally kill each other. It's fucked up.

Tourist: Don't worry. I'll deliver the letter. Then we can discuss your end of the bargain.

Davon: I ain't a charity case, and I like to be upfront whenever I strike a deal. Here's what I have to offer...

Tourist: I'm not in the habit of running errands for strangers without knowing what my take is. I'll make it simple. I need parts for a pump. Got any leads?

Davon: I've got THE lead.

Davon: Industrial shit galore stocked up in a nearby warehouse next to this auto shop we're posted up in. Place is infested with walkers at the loading dock entrance, but there is a way in on the side. From there, you can slip right on past the fuckers without much trouble. I stashed the key to the side door somewhere safe. I'll have it when you return. Here's the letter...

Davon gives the letter to the Tourist.

Davon: Meet me back here after the letter's been delivered. I'm sure Justin will scribble a reply. He's not quite the poet I am, but I still love the guy.

Davon: (in letter) My love. The time is now. It's been weeks since last we spoke. What if we never hold each other again? This is their war, not ours. The odds may be stacked against us, but I would rather risk everything with you by my side than survive this hell without you. Meet me at our spot beyond the Southern Funnel where it all began, two dawns from now. Travel light, we have to be swift. Forever your baby, Davon.

The Tourist can enter the auto shop where some of the Reclaimed are. They can approach Barclay.

Barclay: What do you want?

Tourist: I've got some information you might be interested in.

Barclay: Is that so? I suppose you want something for this info too.

Tourist: This info is free, but only because you're such an amiable guy.

Barclay: Spill it already. Like I ain't got nothing better to do than listen to your clowning.


Tourist: Never mind. Gonna keep it to myself.

Barclay: Beat it, jackass.

Tourist: Throw me a bone and it's yours.

Barclay: Well, I ain't giving you shit. Beat it, jackass.

Tourist: Never mind. Gonna keep it to myself.

Barclay: Beat it, jackass.

Tourist: I'm minding my own business. Maybe you should too.

Barclay: Beat it, jackass.

The Tourist enters a building in Tom's lumber yard and approaches Justin.

Justin: What are you doing around here? You need something?

Tourist: I'm looking for Justin. Need to deliver something. That you?

Justin: Yeah. I'm Justin. What do you have?

Tourist: Are you Davon's boyfriend?

Justin: I don't know who you are, stranger. So don't think I'm giving up any personal details. Understood?

Tourist: Davon asked me to deliver this letter to you.

Tourist: I have a letter for you from Davon. If you want it, I expect a fair trade.

Justin: You're a real piece of work. Fine. I have some medicine I can spare. Is that a "fair trade"?

Justin gives medicine to the Tourist.

Tourist: Fair enough.


The Tourist gives the letter to Justin.

Justin: Much appreciated. Here, please deliver my response to Davon, and that's the last that we'll ask of you.

Justin: Thanks. Here's my response to Davon. Please get it to him. Our little deal here should cover you for the trouble.

Justin gives a letter to the Tourist.

Justin: (in letter) Hi, Davon. First off, miss you. Second, I believe in us. If we die, we die together. Our old oak, I will be there, I promise. You're right. Fuck these fools. Our time is now. Love you to the moon, Justin.

The Tourist can approach Delphine, who is standing in the lumber yard.

Delphine: I know what's going on here, and it might seem to you like the right thing to do, helping out a couple of star-crossed lovers, but you are putting their lives in jeopardy. Davon allowed his attitude to choose his path, but Justin doesn't deserve to be dragged down with him. We've been through a lot of shit together. I don't want anything horrible to happen to him. They need a clean break. No more contact. If they keep this up, they will both be dead. I'm sure Justin gave you a letter for Davon. That's how they've been staying in touch. Deliver this letter instead. It will end things between them. Then they can get on with their lives.

Delphine gives the tourist a letter.

Delphine: (in letter, posing as Justin) Davon. This is crazy. We can't continue to risk our lives like this. I am safe and I want to stay safe. You should do the same. I love you, but I will not jeopardize my life. You know I am right. Let me go. Take care of yourself. Goodbye, Justin.


Tourist: I'm not sure it's my place to decide the fate of their relationship. They're adults.

Delphine: Oh, please. They are risking their lives. If you don't do what is right, their blood will be on your hands.

The Tourist returns to Davon.

Davon: You made it back. God, I hope nobody saw you. Did Justin send a reply?

Tourist: Here it is. He was glad to hear from you.

Davon: Thank you so much. This letter made my day. Hell, it made my life! Justin and I, we're gonna do this. We're really gonna do this! You made a difference today, stranger. I owe you. Here's that key I promised. Hopefully gonna make your life a whole hell of a lot easier.

Davon gives the Tourist a key to the cannery.

Task completed: Forbidden Love

Tourist: He seemed really nervous. Wrote something real quick, then took off.

Davon: Wait. What kind of bullshit is this? This isn't Justin's handwriting. You think I'm stupid?

Tourist: Believe whatever you want, but I watched him write the letter. The guy you thought you knew, he's looking out for himself now. Love in the age of walkers is a motherfucker. What I believe is that you owe me a key.

Davon: Fuck you and your key, asshole! You ain't getting shit from me. Understand? I don't know what your angle is, trying to chisel Justin and I apart, but I suggest you go back into whatever hole you slithered out of before I slap your lying face back to the Stone Age!



If the Tourist acquired the key, they use it to open the cannery storeroom door. They take the pump regulator body and dial from the platform above the storeroom and return home.


The tourist radios Casey.

Tourist: Casey? Come in.

Casey: Hello! Yes. I'm here. Manual open to the appropriate page. You ready?

Task completed: When the Levee Breaks Pt. II

Task added to journal: When the Levee Breaks Pt. III - TBC

Tourist: Let's do this.


After saying they're ready, the Tourist takes the pump out of their backpack.

Casey: Great. Let's start with the serial number again. Then I can calculate the flow requirement settings. Just like the first time through this.

The Tourist finds the serial number.

Tourist: 5627936-42.

Casey: Okay. Let me look at these charts a second...sooooo...here we go...got it. Set Valve A to 26...

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve A set to 26. Number is green.

Casey: Okay, good...Valve B, with A at 26...should be set aaaaat...39. Valve B to 39.

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve B to 39. Set. Two numbers green, A and B.

Casey: Perfect. Last valve. One second...one second...there we go! Valve C should be set to 67.

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve C set. All numbers green. Now the button, right?

Casey: Yeah. Press the round button and we'll be calibrated! When this is all over, we should start a plumbing business. The Bunker Buds?

The Tourist presses the button.

Tourist: Nope. Got bigger plans.

Casey: Fair enough. Not everyone wants to be a small business owner. Dream big. I get it.

Tourist: Sounds like a plan. But the name needs work. Tourist and the Lip-Flapper, Inc. That's catchier.

Casey: Ha-friggin'-ha, Tourist.

Casey: Anyways...this regulator needs to be installed in another pump near St. Vincent's. Same routine with the beacon light. It'll be on, so be ready for walkers skulking about. Once it's installed and you're back at the radio, let's touch base. Good luck. Gonna spend the rest of my day figuring out how to prevent the floodwater from shorting out my radio. I'll talk to you soon.

The Tourist can radio Casey again.

Tourist: Hey, Casey...feel like bullshitting for a minute?

Casey: Yeah, sure. I ain't going nowhere. I can put this book down. Lord knows I've read it enough times already.

Tourist: What book is it?

Tourist: You can read? I'm shocked.

Casey: Hardy fucking har har, Tourist. Yes. I can read.

Casey: The only book down here besides instruction manuals is this hard-core physics book called HoloReal. No clue who left it. I must have read it cover to cover a dozen times already and it still blows my mind. The whole book is about this theory that the entire universe, reality itself, is nothing more than a hologram, being projected onto the surface of a black hole. Sounds fucking nuts, but the math supports it, I guess. I am trying to wrap my head around it all, but...science is not really my strong suit. What about you? You a reader?

Tourist: I've read a few books in my day.

Casey: Oh, what kind of books do you like?

Tourist: I'm a sci-fi nerd.

Casey: That's cool, I guess.


Tourist: Tick Tock Thief. Can't recommend it enough. A woman slips through a slice in time and realizes she has to murder her future self in order to return to reality, and if she can't, she will fade from existence. Amazing.

Casey: Hmm...yeah...sounds great, Tourist.

Tourist: Hands down, fantasy is my favorite genre.

Casey: Never read much fantasy. What can you recommend? Maybe I can track it down someday.

Tourist: The Bleedstone of Arma is an amazing tale. Epic. Heroic. Magical. You gotta be into vampire elves and werewolf dwarves, though.

Casey: I guess elf and dwarf stuff could be cool, but I don't know. The vampire werewolf stuff seems ridiculous, honestly. Combining the two? But maybe it's awesome. What do I know?


Tourist: Not really. Music is my thing.

Casey: Cool. Me too. I play guitar a little. God, I haven't heard a song beyond the stuff JB plays between his sermons since I've been stuck down here. What kind of music do you like?

Tourist: Nothing will ever beat Delta blues. As gritty and real as you can get.

Casey: I totally agree! Honestly, Tourist, that's one of the reasons I was excited to come down here to New Orleans. I had this fantasy that I was going to befriend a Delta Blues guitar legend and he would teach me all his secrets. So much for that.

Tourist: You never know who you might run into once you're out of there, Casey. Maybe you will get your chance to learn some secrets.

Casey: I hope so.



Tourist: I prefer movies. Not much of a reader.

Casey: Shit. I haven't seen a movie in ages. What kind of flicks do you like?

Tourist: I need helicopter speedboat chases and buildings exploding every five minutes to be entertained.

Casey: Yeah, I'm with you. Movies are an escape, you know?

Tourist: Dark, weird shit. I want to be disturbed and challenged. Mainstream movies are all the same.

Casey: Yeah, I can't get into that stuff. I don't want to think during a movie. I just want to get lost for two hours. Eat some popcorn. Oh, shit...I would love some buttery popcorn right now.

Casey: Weird thought...you think there will ever be another Hollywood movie made?

Tourist: Maybe not in our lifetime, and maybe not in Hollywood. But humans are resilient, and we like our entertainment. I think we'll find a way.

Casey: I'd like to think so.

Tourist: No. The world is too far gone. Movies had their day. We just need to be satisfied with what already exists.

Casey: Shit. That's bleak, Tourist.

Casey: Well, on that note, I'm going to go do some exercises. I gotta keep limber. So damp and cramped down here, my body's getting real stiff. Feels like I'm fucking eighty years old. Thanks for the diversion, Tourist. It's nice to be reminded sometimes that we're still human beings in the middle of all this shit. Talk to you soon.

The Tourist goes through the catacombs.

The Resting Place

The Tourist walks up to the church. They see two people talking near the pump location, which is illuminated by a red light.

Butler: This is an opportunity. The light has to mean something. We gotta get to the bottom of this. Maybe you're a malfunction. Don't question me. Someone set this thing off.

Cruz: I'm just saying, maybe there's not a reason behind everything. Maybe things just happen. Circuits fuck up. I mean, Jesus fuck, man. With all the crazy-ass shit going on, you're gonna obsess over this red light. So what if someone set it off?

The people walk away. The Tourist installs the pump, and the light changes to green. While waiting for Casey to radio, the Tourist goes to the Old Town.

Old Town

The Tourist walks through the area.

Georgia: (in poster) Our enemies are weak. They lack conviction. Lack purpose. They spread nothing but lies about us. That's all they can offer. A pile of bullshit. They have no vision for the future. They are hopeless swine. All they want is to see us burn. And why is that? They envy our success. That's why. They know we are strong. They know we refuse to be swayed. They know we are united. And it drives that half-wit charlatan of theirs mad with envy. They don't understand loyalty. Or sacrifice. We do. Because we are guided by principle. And these principles have seen us through the worst horrors imaginable time and time again. We all know what kind of animals they are. We all know that they stand for nothing. They are empty. Depraved psychopaths, every last one of them. They must be dealt with swiftly and without mercy, before they can poison everything we have worked so hard to achieve. The Tower Will Always Stand. Georgia.

The Tourist can walk up to someone standing in the corner of a fence.

Exile Beggar: Bandages would really help me out. I'll trade them for something you need.

If the Tourist gives him bandages, he hands them a box of materials.

Exile Beggar: Bandages. Thanks. I needed that. Here, this is for you.

The Tourist can find approach another exile.

Exile Beggar: My daughter has not been able to break her fever. I'm worried sick. Please. Do you have any medicine?

If the Tourist gives her medicine, she gives them a box of supplies.

Exile Beggar: Thank you so much. You just saved us. This is for you.

The Tourist finds the place in the drawing. They open the shed and take the ledger.

Georgia: (in letter) This map is all the proof we need. Clear to me that justice was served. Gery and Adeel's denials don't outweigh Steven coughing it all up, including the map! And frankly, I don't give a shit who was the mastermind. I stand by pinning it on Gery, but they all earned the walk. Human hunting grounds? Twisted fuckers. Let all this "tic" stuff go. We took care of it. Big picture focus from now on. Georgia.

The Tourist returns home.


The Tourist puts the ledger in the casket. They return to the bus, and Casey radios them.

Casey: Hello? Tourist? You there?

Tourist: Yeah. What is it?

Casey: Something has really been bugging me. Wondering if you could dig up some answers.

Tourist: Do we have time to be getting side-tracked, Casey? The water must still be rising down there.

Casey: No one knows that better than me, Tourist. But until I locate another flow regulator, not much to be done. I figured you could put my mind at ease until then.

Tourist: I'm game. What do you need dug up?

Casey: I need some information on what happened to the people who were in the Reserve with me, the other members of my squad. When the water pressure was getting too much for the bunker to handle, sections of it started to lock down. We analyzed the systems, and we were able to pinpoint the issue. They went off to fix it, left me behind in the Reserve, but then the whole place locked down, trapping me inside. I tried to reach them by radio, but I got no response. I need to know what happened to them after they left.

Tourist: Where did they need to go to fix the problem?

Casey: Near Rampart High School.

Tourist: Why do you need to know?

Casey: Honestly, what happened to my friend Kenneth is what concerns me the most. We were close. The other three...we didn't part on the best terms. Didn't see eye to eye.

Tourist: Tell me about your friend Kenneth.

Casey: He was like a big brother to me. Stood up for me when everyone else in here was...out of their fucking minds.

Tourist: What do you mean, "out of their fucking minds"? What happened down there, Casey?

Tourist: What's the point you're trying to make, Casey?

Casey: They made a fucked up decision, okay? Kenneth and I were not cool with it, but they did it anyway. Let's just leave it at that. Not in the mood to get into it. Past is the fucking past.


Casey: If you wander over to Rampart High, maybe you can dig something up. The gym is probably the best place to start. There was a disaster relief camp there that they were going to search. Find out if Kenneth made it. That's all I'm asking. Maybe it'll help me sleep better, maybe not. I'll keep my ears open for what we need in the meantime.

Task completed: When the Levee Breaks Pt. III

Task added to journal: Alone Together - Casey's got me on another errand, but this time it's personal. I'm not sure what happened between him and his squadmates in the Reserve, but maybe I'll find clues in the Rampart gym.

The Tourist takes the skiff to Rampart.

Rampart High School

The Tourist explores the area and finds an abandoned camp littered with tents, supplies, and corpses.

The Tourist can find an exile beggar standing near a school bus.

Exile Beggar: Please. It's been so long since I've had anything to eat. Can you spare any food?

If the Tourist gives him food, he hands them a box of materials.

Exile Beggar: A very generous gesture. Thank you so much. Take this.

The Tourist enters the school. In a waiting room next to an office, they find a corpse with a note next to it.

Foster: (in letter) Casey with the goddamn whining. I'm about to put my fist through his teeth. We did what we had to do. Live with it. End of story. How the fuck that bean pole made it through basic is beyond me. Soft as a melted fucking marshmallow. Different story with Kenny. I respect the guy, but that doesn't mean he gets a pass. The questioning has to stop. We had to protect what was rightfully ours. This bunker is our home, the supplies are our lifeline. If we did not defend it, we'd have all been dead within two weeks. Now we can last months, maybe longer. We can survive this. A brutal decision was made, but we have to fucking stand by it, unified. If Kenny and Casey don't fall in line soon, I'll have no problem marching them out the bunker door with a gun to the back of their heads.

In the gym, the Tourist finds another note next to a corpse.

Jess: (in letter) Wasn't about to let those bastards steal all our shit. It's dog eat fucking dog now. And I'm the mama pitbull. Foster and Trent understand what's up. When you go through something like that together, something that ugly but necessary, you develop a bond to the group. No doubt. The other two? Fuck them. They don't get it. Casey acting like he's innocent. Bunch of bullshit. And Kenny with his moral high horse routine. Not going to put up with it much longer. I'm watching. They so much as blow a fucking fart in my direction, I'll put their asses down. Zero hesitation. Only the ruthless will survive this shit.

In the gym changing room, the Tourist finds another note next to a corpse.

Trent: (in letter) I'm a good person. I know I am. I saved my cousin Billy that one time from blowing off his fingers. All the other kids dared him to hold that M-80 and light it and I said "No, Billy!", even though I really wanted to see what would happen. What happened at the bunker, Jess says we did the right thing. Foster says it too, so that means we did the right thing. I didn't do anything wrong. Us or them and we chose us. I'd do it again, probably, so that means it was right, right? When you look back on something and know you would do it the same way all over again. That's day javoo, I think. Something happens, and you say "you know, that's the way I'd do it a second time." Day javoo. That's how I know I did the right thing.

In the cafeteria, they find a bloodied and injured Kenneth sitting next to a fire.

Kenneth: Didn't think I'd ever see another human being again.

Tourist: Is your name Kenneth?

Kenneth: Yeah. How do you know my name?


Tourist: Casey asked me to look for you. He's alive, in the bunker. He wanted to know what happened to you and the rest of the squad.

Tourist: You're not looking so good. What happened to you?

Kenneth: Ceiling collapsed on me. Was scavenging. Happened fast. Been stuck here a while. At first, thought I might survive, but I'm not gonna make it. Know that now. Who are you?


Tourist: People call me the Tourist. So let's go with that.

Kenneth: The Tourist? Ha.

Kenneth: My name is Kenneth, in case you give a shit. I'm in agony here. Feels like my insides are being eaten up by a million bugs. Was wondering if you could do me two favors.


Tourist: Sure. I'll listen.

Kenneth: First favor is the simple one. When our chat is through...kill me. Second one is to relay a message, if the little bastard is still alive. National guardsman, like me, named Casey. My squadmate. Left him behind in the bunker. Can maybe get him on a radio, frequency 61, say "Waterfall"...

Tourist: Casey asked me to look for you. He's alive, in the bunker. He wanted to know what happened to you and the rest of the squad.

Tourist: I'll help you out. And I'll start by letting you know that Casey is alive and I've already connected with him through a radio.


Kenneth: Casey's alive, huh? That's good to hear. I didn't give him much chance, honestly. Thought he'd have blown his brains out by now or shriveled away to nothing. Guess I underestimated him. If you make it back to him, tell him these few things for me... Tell him he's a good guy. The guilt...it's not his. Tell him to let it all go, what happened at the bunker. He needs to wipe his brain clean. Tell him Kenneth set things right. Killed Trent, Jess, and Foster. Okay? You need to write it down or something?

Tourist: What do you mean, "the guilt"? Casey mentioned something horrible happened at the bunker. Is that what you're talking about?

Tourist: I'll remember everything. Don't worry. But I'm curious...what happened at the bunker?

Kenneth: Fuck it. I've got nothing to hide. We killed dozens of innocent people. Civilians trying to get into the bunker. When all the shit with the dead walking started to go down, we had orders to keep everyone out of the bunker. I don't know why. It didn't make any sense. But when it got too tense, we freaked. Mowed them down. Vietnam-style shit. Casey just stood there. Like a ghost. That fuck Foster started screaming at him to open fire with the rest of us. Later, I asked Casey if he fired. He said that he pulled the trigger because he was scared that if he didn't, we would all turn on him. Add his body to the piles. He said he aimed his gun up in the rafters of the church. I believed him. He begged me not to tell the others. He didn't trust them, but he trusted me. We were friends. Listen...my brain...it's getting foggy... I'm seeing shit... I don't know how many words I got left...end me...please...

Tourist: One more question, Kenneth. You said you killed your squadmates. Why?

Kenneth: We all deserved death. For what we did, champ. They were gonna hurt Cousin Timmy...and I couldn't let them do that... I had to...make sure...they were never gonna hurt no one...ever again...right, Uncle Tommy? Hey....hey, hey, hey...

Tourist: I've heard enough, Kenneth. I'll tell Casey we spoke. Tell him everything you wanted him to know.

Kenneth: That's...mighty nice of ya, Uncle Tommy...

Kenneth: Before you go to the bowling alley, blow my fucking brains out, yeah? That's the only way to remain human all the way to the end, right?

The Tourist can mercy-kill Kenneth or leave him. They return home.


The Tourist radios Casey.

Tourist: You there, Casey? I'm back.

Casey: Hey, Tourist. Did you discover anything?

Tourist: I found Kenneth.

Casey: You did? Is he still alive?

Tourist: All your squadmates are dead. Kenneth killed them.

Casey: Holy shit! How do you know?

Tourist: I stumbled onto Kenneth. He told me what he did and why he did it.

Casey: Kenneth is alive? Where is he? Can I talk to him?


Tourist: He wasn't going to make it. He begged me to put him out of his misery. So I did.

Casey: Oh...well... I'm sure you...did what was right, Tourist.

Tourist: No. He's dead. But he told me some interesting things before it was over.

Casey: Shit... Rest in peace, Kenny, my friend. What did he tell you?

Tourist: For a guy who only had a few breaths left in him, Kenny had a lot to say, Casey.

Casey: Like what?

Tourist: He wanted me to tell you something. You want to know what he said?

Casey: Yes! Of course. What did he say?

Tourist: He told me about the massacre outside the bunker. And that Foster, Trent, and Jess deserved payback for their role in it. Any thoughts on all this you'd like to share?

Tourist: He said you're a good guy. Not to feel guilt about what happened outside the bunker. To let the massacre go. He told me all about it, from his perspective. But I am curious about yours.


Kenneth: Well...if he told you what happened...why do you need to hear it from me? You know what you need to know...right? And you've told me my friend is dead, so...we can move on, yeah?

Tourist: We move on after you tell me your side of the story.

Casey: Alright, hardass. You want to hear what happened? Fine.

Tourist: I know it must be hard, Casey, to talk about it. But it's okay. Tell me what happened.

Casey: You're right, Tourist. It's not easy for me.

Casey: There was a massacre. Three dozen people at least. Civilians. Right at the Reserve entrance. Innocent people that we should have been protecting. I should have done something to stop it, but I didn't. I stood there. A coward. And now, I don't sleep. I have a nervous twitch in my right hand that gets more pronounced every day and the guilt is like a ten-ton weight crushing my chest. You satisfied now?

Tourist: No. Not satisfied. There's more to tell and you're not telling it. You can't sleep, you're twitching, you're racked with guilt. Why?

Tourist: Those are just facts, Casey. I already know the facts. What I need to know is your perspective on the whole thing. There's a reason why you can't sleep, you're twitching like a junkie, and your chest feels like it's caving in.

Casey: Okay! Quit badgering me, please. I'll talk...just...give me a second...to gather my thoughts...it's all fucking foggy... The whole thing...escalated really fast. The first bullet...was Foster. I wanted to scream "no"...but it's like I just left my body. Everything after that moment...it's like a nightmare. Jess and Trent started firing. Jess...she was...smiling. Kenneth hesitated. Looked right through me...like he expected me to have his back...but I did nothing...so he started firing. After that, I'll I've been able to retain are weird details...the sounds...a hat...a cross.. Man, sometimes...when I'm lying here trying to sleep, I can actually feel my finger shaking on the trigger of my rifle...even though I haven't touched the thing since the day it happened.

Tourist: The feel of the trigger...did you pull it?

Casey: Yeah. I didn't want to, but I did. Basic training kicked in. Follow orders, no matter what. But I don't know if I killed anyone. I may have...thing is...I'll never know...maybe that's actually worse than knowing for certain that I did...

Tourist: A cross? Like in a church? What's that all about?

Casey: Yeah. It's fucking strange, Tourist. I see it...real close up...everything around it is hazy...bullets chewing it up, splintering the wood...it's from my church back home...the one my mom used to drag me to, you know...but that makes no sense...just my mind fucking with me...guilt digging in deep, I guess...fearing judgement...

Tourist: What do you hear when the sounds come?

Casey: The sound of terror. The pleas. The gunfire. My own shouts. The thump of bodies hitting the floor. This cacophony will just swell up inside my head when I least expect it. Chaos. But I can still pick out every single fucking sound. I just can't shake it.

Tourist: You mentioned a hat. What hat?

Casey: There was this old man. Shielding his wife. He had on this bright blue fishing hat, and I watched a flurry of bullets rip it right off, in this spray of blood and skull. And this fucking hat, I swear to god, it's the exact same hat my uncle used to wear, and the bullets drove it into the wall, and it hung there for a second, dripping, then it flopped onto the floor...the image... I can't get it out of my head...I'm worried it'll be there forever. I keep thinking...was it me? Did I shoot those bullets?

Tourist: You'll never know for sure, Casey.

Tourist: Best to assume the worst, Casey.

Casey: That's exactly right, Tourist. And I can't...fucking...deal with that...

Tourist: We've all piled up regrets. Impossible not to when the world is this fucked up. What sets the good man apart from the evil one is how you live beyond the regret. Do you make better decisions moving forward?

Casey: I have to. I can't live with myself otherwise. I have to be better.

Tourist: Then you will be, simple as that.

Casey: If you say so.


Tourist: Get it out of your head or drown it all out with something else. We don't have the time or the energy for a pity party, Casey.

Casey: Sorry. I just...I don't know if I can turn it off. Not everyone is like you.

Tourist: You'd be better off if you were like me.

Tourist: Own it. Swallow it. Whatever you need to do for yourself so you can move the fuck on.

Tourist: There are certain realities at play in this swamp. Accepting them is the difference between life and death. If you want me to stick around, I need you to get your shit together.

Casey: Easier said than done, Tourist. But I get your point. I suppose the guilt is nothing compared to the knee-deep water keeps on rising in here. And at least I can take comfort in the fact that there is only one version of the truth left, and it belongs to me. I guess that whatever life I have left, the truth will either kill me or set me free.

Tourist: I'll bet the farm on "kill you"...

Casey: You're morbid as fuck.


Tourist: The choice is yours to make, Casey.

Casey: Thanks.


Tourist: Listen to me, Casey...carefully. What happened outside the bunker...it's not your fault. That is clear to me. It was clear to Kenneth. You need to find a way to make it clear to yourself.

Casey: I know. You're right, Tourist. But...it's not easy. Gonna take a lot of fucking work. Maybe when this is all over, I can hire you to be my therapist.

Tourist: Sorry, I got better things to do with my time.

Casey: It was a joke. Never mind.

Tourist: I charge three hundred bucks an hour. Don't think you can afford that on National Guard money.

Casey: Ha...yeah...probably not.

Casey: Look, Tourist...this little chat...it's worn me the fuck out...and I've got rewiring to do to keep from getting electrocuted next time I use this radio...not that it really fucking matters...doubtful I'm getting out of here alive. Without that key that has everyone riled up, this is all a waste of time. I'm gonna go. I'll talk to you later, I guess...

The Tourist sees that the lantern is lit and opens the casket. They pick up a drawing of a house and a letter.

Task completed: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. IV

Task added to journal: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. V - Heading back to the Shallows for more intel. Here's hoping this keeps me in May's good graces...really need that key.

May: (in letter) My husband was innocent. I don't give a damn what was on that map. Doesn't prove a thing. Georgia has such a stranglehold on the Tower, she could say the sky is green and made of jello, then everyone behind the wall would nod, smile, and get out their spoons. But not me and not my daughter. I'm going to prove to Ambre that we can rise above it all. That we can remain in truth. Which brings me to a confession, Tourist. I didn't tell the full story of how I got the Reserve key. Ambre called me out for omitting a critical detail. I am raising the kid right, I guess. To get the key, I had to hurt someone real bad. A dear friend. I almost killed her. In the moment, it felt like the right thing to do. No question. But I regained my senses, for my daughter's sake. I could see her eyes pleading with me from across the room. "Stop, Mommy. This isn't right", they said. I was ashamed. I had succumbed to what the Tower had become under Georgia's influence. A breeding ground for betrayal, forcing people to turn against each other to survive. Sad thing is, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Not proud of it, but it's true. There is a line with me, and when it is crossed, it doesn't matter who you are, I will do whatever it takes to defend what I know is right and protect my daughter. So now you know exactly who you are dealing with, Tourist. No bullshit. Like before, the drawing will point you to the cache. Beyond the location, the next cache is a mystery to me. No clue what might be in there. All I've heard is that it's quite a haul. May.

The Tourist travels to the Shallows.

The Shallows

The Tourist enters the house seen in the drawing and takes the ledger.

Georgia: (in letter) ALL PATROLS Return to The Tower after 1800 HERD STIR through the NARROW RESERVE ASSAULT PREP begins ASAP: 3-10 days, hope for 10, we need fucking time... RESERVE STRIKE: Immediate when LOC is KNOWN. Any day it seems. During PREP, patrol sweeps REDUCED to ONLY ONCE PER DAY and ONLY through S. Bump and NW Corridor. RESERVE ASSAULT ROUTES will move through there. With Reserve secured and TIC Infected removed, should have ALL Routes clear in THREE WEEKS. Back to business... Re: TIC INFECTED List still developing, currently at 50, will be higher Round Up RAID for IMMEDIATE EXILE. ANYONE PROTESTS... They take the walk. No time for bullshit. Tired of feeding JB's army with dissidents. ELIMINATION...the better option... Georgia.

The Tourist returns to the graveyard.


The Tourist puts the ledger in the casket. They wait for some time, then retrieve a note from the casket once the lantern is lit.

May: (in letter) Hey, Tourist... Then intel you've been gathering for me has been enlightening, to say the least. Georgia is planning on a mass exile in the very near future. Many lives are going to be at risk. I have a few things to discuss with you. I know we were going to try and avoid the face to face, but the plan I am formulating warrants it. Would appreciate your ear. Meet me in the same spot as the first time. Churchyard. Thanks for all you're doing... May.

Task completed: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. V

Task added to journal: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. VI - May seems spooked by that last bit of intel. She set up another meet to hash it out in person.

The Tourist walks through the catacombs and up to the Resting Place.

The Resting Place

The Tourist approaches May.

May: Hey, Tourist. I'll get right to the point. After looking over the intel you brought me, seems like Georgia is planning to toss out a large number of people real soon. A lot of lives are going to be in jeopardy. Good news is, we have some hope. That map you scored shows a safe way out of NOLA. Just need to buy some time and some space to organize exiles on a large scale, get them ready to move. I think the Reserve is going to provide the opening I need. Georgia and the Tower are so obsessed with it, don't think they'll be concerned with what I'm doing for a short while. And with the Reclaimed salivating over it too, once the Reserve is unlocked and revealed to the world, courtesy of you, there's going to be a bloodbath. You can count on that. And that's when I make my move. Window won't be open long, though. It'll be tight, but I gotta take the chance.

Tourist: I don't know, May. Sounds risky, trying to get that many people out at once without Georgia noticing. You've seen the posters everywhere. She's trying to turn the whole city against you. Maybe you should get out with Ambre while you have the chance.

May: You can't be serious. After all the work my daughter and I have put in to make this dream a reality, you think I should turn my back on the people I've been working so hard to help? No. I'm all in, Tourist. I appreciate your concern, but we are going to uphold our promise to these people. Do or die.

Tourist: Sounds like this is the opportunity you've been waiting for. I think you should go for it.

May: Thanks for the support, Tourist. It helps, especially when the mind is working out so many "what ifs".

May: I will leave the key to the Reserve in the drop spot for you. Lantern will be on when it's there. When the shit goes down for the Reserve, if you're thinking it's all too much and you want out, come find us. The exodus could use someone with your particular set of talents. My hope is you won't be a fool, but my mind suspects you'll be too hooked on that damn Reserve pipe dream, just like everybody else. All I can do is wish you good luck and good judgement, Tourist. Take care of yourself.

Task completed: The Tomb and the Tower Pt. VI

The Tourist returns home.


The Tourist radios Casey.

Tourist: Casey...good news...May said she would give me the key we need.

Tourist: Casey? You there?

(There is no response. The Tourist must choose the other option.)

Casey: Good news? Hell, Tourist. I would classify that as fucking outstanding news! I don't want to jinx it, but...no...you know what? I'm going to keep my mouth shut. Best not risk the jinx. Let's just forge ahead. One step at a time. Okay, so, the part to repair the final pump...I don't have much to go on. It's weird. There's been really faint chatter about it on a few channels that have been nothing but static for months. There's an outpost called Bastion, set up in a heavily defended duplex home, barricades and optimal sight lines. The Reclaimed currently control it. Now, the place has been a hotbed of conflict between Tower and Reclaimed for a while. From what I've been hearing, that's where it is, so be ready for a shitstorm. Good luck and keep your head on a swivel.

Task completed: Alone Together

Task added to journal: When the Levee Breaks Pt. IV - The final piece for the final pump. I can hardly believe it. Gotta be cautious as I approach the fortified duplex though, it's clear now that other players in the city are on to me. Won't stop me... Bastion, here I come.

The Tourist can radio Casey again.

Tourist: Hey, Casey...how's it going?

Casey: Hey, Tourist...honestly...I'm a little freaked out.

Tourist: What's bothering you?

Casey: It's just...I know it's not the same world it was before I was locked in, and I can accept that, you know? But...it seems like in order to make it out there, I'm gonna have to become something I'm not. Violent. Ruthless. Willing to hurt anyone for even looking at me sideways.

Tourist: You're always freaked out, Casey. It's who you are. A freak-out.

Casey: I'm not always freaked out, Tourist. That's an exaggeration and you know it.

Tourist: It's simple, Casey. Adapt to the violence, embrace it, or die.

Casey: Is that what you did? Huh? Or were you always the way you are? And, yes, this is me freaking out a bit. There's a big part of me that's scared to meet you face to face. I mean, look, I don't really know you, but I know what you're capable of. And frankly, it turns my stomach when I really think about it.

Tourist: You'll see. I'm not scary, Casey. You just don't want to fuck with me. That's all.

Casey: Thanks for the advice.


Tourist: If you don't think you can handle it, you should probably just stay locked up down there. Violence is as much a plague on the world as the dead. Not gonna sugarcoat it.

Casey: Wow. What great choices...remain a fucking mole man for the rest of my life...or crawl out of my hole to the surface that's overrun with violent psychopaths and ravenous walking corpses.


Tourist: Could be worse, you know.

Casey: Oh, yeah? I don't see how it could possibly be worse.


Tourist: You could be sentient dog turd stuck to the bottom of a walker's rotting foot. Doomed to squish slowly in and out of the mud for all eternity.

Casey: Yeah. You're right. That would be a pretty shitty deal.

Casey: You know, I gotta hand it to you, Tourist. A conversation with you is always enlightening. Even entertaining sometimes. But that's about all I can handle right now. Need to take a few minutes to myself. I'll talk to you later.

The Tourist travels to Bastion.


The Tourist explores the dilapidated area. They enter a house, walk up the stairs, and go into the room with an open door. JB sits on a chair in the middle of the room, the pump regulator on the floor at his feet. A corpse with a bag over its head and its hands bound hangs from the ceiling.

JB: You made it. I didn't doubt that you would, of course, but my patience was beginning to be tested. Let's start with a formal introduction. You are the Tourist, and I am Jean-Baptiste, JB for short. There, now, we can proceed to matters of more profound consequence. It is my understanding that this gizmo here would be of use to you. It's all yours. Consider it a gift. And once we are finished with our conversation, I will provide you with the missing dial you will need to operate it. Sound fair?

Task added to journal: One of Those NOLA Nights - Casey was right to be nervous. It was JB himself who put out the call about the parts. Seems like he just wants me to hear him out. If that's all it takes to get the pump parts then I'm all ears.

Tourist: Sounds fair.

JB: Terrific.

Tourist: Keep it brief. I'm busy.

JB: I won't take much of your time, you have my word. We all have business to attend to.

The Tourist can pick up the regulator.

JB: Now...I prefer to play it straight. Once I received word that you were collecting these devices and to what purpose, I saw an opportunity to connect with the city's most illustrious survivor and have a chat about the Reserve. So I made it a priority to acquire one, through various means I will not divulge, and now here you are. It is my hope that when I am through, you will see the Reserve for what it is, nothing more than a crutch holding back the people of this fine city from regaining themselves.

Tourist: You've piqued my interest. Go on...

Tourist: You're a cocky bastard, JB.

JB: Not cocky. Convicted. But I also know how to humble myself when dealing with someone as formidable as you, so my apologies if my demeanor seems brash. I am a man of particular predilections.

Tourist: Don't worry about it. Say what you have to say.

Tourist: Keep the ego in check and I'll keep an open mind. Go ahead and continue.

JB: I am a firm believer in the greatness of humankind. Our ingenuity. Our art. Our towering scientific achievements. This Reserve nonsense, even if the rumors about what may be inside if we exceed our wildest dreams, the bounty will only prolong our addiction to survivalism as the only path in life. It will stifle our creativity. It will eventually lead to our withering doom. Now, this is the proposal I have for you. Continue your search for the Reserve, and when you unearth it, which I have the utmost confidence you will, destroy it. These four numbers will disable the entire flood contingency system. Mother nature will rage through the Reserve and take care of the rest.

JB gives the Tourist a book containing the Reserve flood code and an armory inventory.

JB: One-zero-zero-six. Flood the Reserve and set us all free. Give this still glorious city the jump-start it needs to refocus on something much grander than mere survival. Grant us hope, Tourist, and thank you, most sincerely, for hearing me out. And let's keep this chat between us, if that's alright. I'm not sure my comrades would see the big-picture benefits of removing the Reserve from the equation. The floor is now yours, my friend. Anything on your mind that requires clarity?

Tourist: I want your perspective on the Reserve...

JB: Uh-huh?

Tourist: Why choose me to destroy the Reserve?

JB: Because you're the one best-equipped to find the accursed place and I trust you will do the right thing when you do. Call it a hunch.

Tourist: How did you find this code to flood the Reserve?

JB: One of my scouts came across the corpse of a National Guardsman in Rampart High School. The body had a manual for a bunker's flood defense system. I put two and two together.

Tourist: If the rumors about what's inside the Reserve are true, wouldn't it benefit the Reclaimed to get your hands on it?

JB: You are absolutely correct. But once those supplies are gone, then what? The same old fruitless pursuits. And there is the very distinct possibility that the Tower gets to it before we do. The only way to guarantee this city will move forward in the proper direction is to remove the Reserve from the equation entirely.

Tourist: I have some other questions for you, JB.

Tourist: I'm curious about the Reclaimed...

JB: Yes?

Tourist: The Reclaimed have made quite a mark on the city. How did the movement get started?

JB: After my exile from the Tower for insubordination, I took to raiding their supply lines, rather efficiently, I might add. No one ever got hurt, and other exiles clamored to join my operations. Needless to say, Mama and her cohorts were not pleased with my exploits, and they sent several communications asking me to cease my pillaging or there would be consequences. Of course, I refused, politely. No one was going to dictate the terms of my existence anymore. But it wasn't until the Tower started sending thugs out to track me down and end me that I decided it was time to send a message of my own.

Tourist: I've heard snippets about Reclaimed philosophy, but it would be enlightening to hear it from you.

JB: It's simple, really. We want to live purposeful lives. Reclaim the world, and our humanity along with it. More survival is so petty. It is beneath us. Forcing people to focus solely on survival is cruel, really. I believe we must invest in a future of our own design. Life is not worth living otherwise.

Tourist: What's with the gory rituals?

JB: First one was a man I knew well during my brief tenure as a Tower grunt. I'd even call him a friend. Tripp was his name. Snuck up on me in the middle of sleep. Tried to slit my throat. I still carry the scar. Well, long story short, Tripp was no match for me. I maimed him, something awful, really. And I dragged his body about a mile, all the way to the Southern Bump, which at the time was the most highly trafficked exit from the Tower. I found an old oak, hung him upside down from it, so his life's blood would spill rapidly into the soil. Upon his chest, I pinned a note that read "Keep Them Coming". And just like that, I became the most feared boogeyman NOLA has seen since the Axeman. Once I had fear on my side, the rest just blossomed naturally. Those with nowhere else to go wanted what I had, so they listened. And they learned. I empowered them. That's all people want. A sense that their lives still have some meaning.

Tourist: I have some other questions for you, JB.

Tourist: I've heard enough.

(After the Tourist says there's nothing else.)

JB: Fair enough. Then we are finished here. The dial. As promised.

JB gives the Tourist the pump dial.

JB: Godspeed, Tourist.

The Tourist walks outside the house and finds Georgia and several Tower soldiers standing in the yard.

Georgia: We finally meet, Tourist. After all the hype, you're not exactly what I expected. Thought you'd be more put together, bit more danger to your presence.

Tourist: You know who I am, but I'm not sure I know who you are. I have a guess, but...

Tourist: Sorry to disappoint, lady. Good thing I'm not too concerned about what you think of me.

Georgia: You should be, fool. Your life may depend on it.

Georgia: I'm Georgia. Maybe you've heard of me, maybe not. I could give two shits. What does concern me is the man inside of the building you just stepped out of.

Georgia: The time has come to silence him, once and for all. Cut off the head that won't shut up, rest of the Reclaimed fools will fall back in line. Then us Tower folk can get back to doing what's right without all the noise.

Tourist: He's all yours. I won't stop you.

Georgia: This is where you come in, big shot.

Tourist: From what I know about JB, it may take more than you and a couple goons to take him down.

Georgia: You're a real smart ass, Tourist. I fucking love smartasses. Especially when I snip the tongues out of their smartass mouths. But I'm willing to give you a pass on your smartass ways, just this once.

Georgia: I'm gonna offer you an opportunity to be a hero. You game?

Tourist: That depends. What the fuck do you want me to do?

Tourist: I'm game for anything, as long as the offer suits me. What do you want from me?

Georgia: Quit fucking with me, fool. You know what I want. March back up into that house and kill JB. Prove you are worth more to the Tower than the cockroach you've been so far. And in return, all your fucked up transgressions will be forgiven. If you happen to find yourself in the midst of our onslaught on the Reserve, Tower troops will have your back. You have my word.

Tourist: This is your conflict. Not mine. I'm not a hired gun for the Tower.

Georgia: That's a goddamn shame, Tourist. JB is not walking out of that place alive, whether you get involved or not. What you don't seem to realize, however, is your fate, if you defy me. Let me clarify...do as you are told, or you...are...dead.

Tourist: I take no issue with killing JB. Consider it done.

Georgia: No nonsense. I dig it, Tourist. I'll let you get to the deed. We'll be waiting. Right here. But don't keep us waiting too long. My patience has a limit.

Georgia: We tracked him here, heard the commotion upstairs. Did you kill that fool?

Tourist: You won't have to worry about JB and his yammering anymore.


Georgia: The tide has fucking turned. Thanks for doing what needed to be done. From this point on, just keep steering clear of the Tower and there won't be any issues between you and me. I'm not a fan of issues, in case you couldn't tell. And when this shit with the Reserve pops, I'll make sure Tower troops have orders to steer clear of you.

If JB is alive, The Tourist reenters the house and approaches JB, who is now standing in the room and holding a gun.

JB: You've returned. To what do I owe the pleasure, Tourist?

Tourist: The Tower wants you dead, and I decided to make it happen. No offense.

JB: None taken, Tourist. This wouldn't be the first time I've stared down death. I am not going to beg for my life or even try to talk you out of doing what you think you should do. We all have our role to play. This must be yours. However, I know you are not lacking in intellect, nor are you a lackey of the Tower, so I must question your willingness to follow through on your threat.

The Tourist can kill JB, or leave him alone.

Tourist: Tower troops are outside. They want you dead. I suggest you get out of here.

JB: Well, look at you, Tourist. Choosing sides. I suppose that's a good sign, regarding our previous conversation. For a rogue spirit, you certainly have proven pivotal in the fight for the soul of this godforsaken and still glorious city. I have no designs on escape. I plan to march right out of this house, gun drawn, and send a message. If you feel like joining me, I suggest you keep up. When it comes to violence, I am decisive and swift.

The Tourist can kill JB or assist him in killing the Tower soldiers. If they don't kill JB, he goes outside and gets into a shootout with the soldiers.

JB and Tower Soldiers' Comments

JB: Come on!

JB: I'm taking you down!

JB: What do you got, asshole?

JB: Alright. I was in the mood for a fight.

Tower Elite Soldier: That all you got?

Tower Elite Soldier: Your bullshit doesn't scare me!

Tower Elite Soldier: Let's take this asshole down!

Task completed: One of Those NOLA Nights

JB: We collaborate well, Tourist. Together, we might have been able to handle twice as many Tower goons. I had forgotten how much I enjoy the thrill of a brawl. Been a while. Thanks for reminding me. And now I must bid you farewell. I have a new broadcast to prepare. Hearts and minds to ignite. Perhaps you may even get a special mention.

The Tourist can pick up a note on the ground that falls from Georgia's corpse.

Mama: (in letter) My dear Georgia... We have gone too far. This has to stop. We are not cruel. No matter what our community is facing right now, we have to remember our promise to the people. I understand the need to pivot when faced with a crisis, Georgia. Those responsible for the atrocities that led to the disease were brought to justice. We have to let the lessons we learned from all that Tic business behind us. When I first learned that those animals were serving human flesh to our most desperate, simply to meet hunting quotas, I was enraged. But as difficult as it may be, I had to pivot. I had to try and understand the desperation that drove them to hunt human beings. Maybe our scavenging quotas were a misstep. Yes, punishment was warranted. But we cannot allow those horrors to color all the choices we make moving forward. We must help people, not abandon them. I have been changing course and making difficult decisions a majority of my life. We can figure this out. We can get this community back on the right track. I may be a bit compromised these days, but my mind is as sharp as ever. You need to be patient and you need to trust me. You know I have always thought of you as the daughter I never had...have I ever steered you wrong? We will return to better days... Your Mama.

Georgia: Did you kill that fool?

Tourist: You won't have to worry about JB and his yammering anymore.


Georgia: The tide has fucking turned. Thanks for doing what needed to be done. From this point on, just keep steering clear of the Tower and there won't be any issues between you and me. I'm not a fan of issues, in case you couldn't tell. And when this shit with the Reserve pops, I'll make sure Tower troops have orders to steer clear of you.

The Tourist returns home.


If JB is alive, the Tourist can turn on the radio to his channel.

JB: When credit is due, I do not hesitate to bestow it. I may not be here right now speaking to you over these airwaves were it not for the intervention of the Tourist. Our city's most famous freelancer. Now, I know that many of you have your opinion about the Tourist, as did I. Some consider them an avenging angel, setting this city on a righteous path. Others see them as a demon of doom, slithering from the shadows to claim souls for the Dark Lord himself. Whatever your thoughts may be, I can assure you that they are most likely exaggerated. The Tourist may be enigmatic, but they are still a human being. Just like the rest of us. But with one glance, I could tell in what matter the Tourist was exceptional: the brutal art of survival. During the lengthy conversation that I had with the Tourist before they alerted me to a host of unforeseen dangers, I was struck by the numerous battle scars on their face. Each one clearly representing a close call. The marks that identify a true warrior. Their hands were powerful and calloused, marred by countless scrapes with the dead. And yet they also seemed nimble enough to strike with precision in an instant. Now, I have a reputation among the fine folks of New Orleans to possess a fair amount of survivalist acumen myself. And in that toolbox, one quality that I pride myself on is my ability to size someone up in the first few seconds that I lay eyes on them. And let me tell you, New Orleans, the Tourist is undoubtedly a formidable force of pure ruthlessness when it comes to the matters of life and death. Not someone to be trifled with.

The Tourist radios Casey.

Tourist: I'm back, Casey. Ready to repair the pump. You still alive?

Casey: Yeah. Alive but almost swimming. No turning back after this, Tourist. We have to get after it. I'm running out of time. You prepared?

Task completed: When the Levee Breaks Pt. IV

Task added to journal: When the Levee Breaks Pt V - Need to take that key I got from May to the Jazz Park to unlock the final pump. Once this part is calibrated and installed, that's it...the Reserve is mine.

Once you talk to Casey, there's no turning back...

Tourist: I'm ready.


(After the Tourist says yes.)

Casey: Okay. Serial number first.

The Tourist finds the serial number on the pump.

Tourist: 7490003-13.

Casey: Alright...set Valve A to 38...

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve A. 38. Green.

Casey: Valve B needs to be set at 44.

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve B. 44. A...B...double green.

Casey: You're a machine, Tourist. Okay, Valve C. Set it to...60.

The Tourist does as instructed.

Tourist: Valve C to 60. Green all around. Button press and we are calibrated.

The Tourist presses the button.

Casey: Excellent. Okay. The last pump is not far from the cemetery. It's in a concrete industrial shed in the old jazz park, near the statue of the musicians. Should be easy to find. The key you got from May unlocks the door to the shed. Now once the part is installed, contact me, and I'll get the pump system started. We are SO close, Tourist. Access to the Reserve for you, get the fuck out of the Reserve for me. Can't wait...

The Tourist opens the casket. They take the key, a drawing of people on a boat, and a note.

May: (in letter) Tourist... Thank you and goodbye. Maybe our paths will cross again, maybe not. Guess we will just have to wait and see. Personally, I think you should follow us out of this doomed city. Like I said, you would be an asset to the exodus. But you need to follow whatever story resides in your head. Just know that you are a part of my and Ambre's story, along with the stories of a couple dozen folks who might have been dead by the end of the week if it wasn't for your efforts. Ambre wanted to give you one more drawing. I think she hopes it will sway your decision. Good luck and I hope you find what you're searching for. May.

The Tourist walks through the catacombs and enters the area with the ornate gate. They find a shed and unlock it with the key May gave them. The enter, and find the pump system, illuminated by a red light. The Tourist installs the pump, and the light turns green. They return to the bus and radio Casey.

Tourist: Casey...come in...it's go time.

Casey: Awesome, Tourist! Never doubted you...

Tourist: That's a load of bullshit, Casey.

Casey: Well, sure...there were a few times I doubted you...but, hey! You proved me wrong.

Tourist: That's good, Casey. It's a mistake to underestimate me.

Casey: Believe me... I know...

Casey: Alright. I'm going to power everything up. Should work, but you never know. Guess we need to be prepared for anything. Okay, here goes...fingers crossed...

Task completed: When the Levee Breaks Pt. V

Task added to journal: New Orleans Shout - The church is lit up like a fucking Christmas tree... The Reserve is real, and now the whole city knows it! Need to get over there fast, between the Reclaimed and the Tower they're liable to blow it all up.

The lights on the church in the distance turn on.

Casey: Yes! It's working! What a fucking relief! I can hear the pumps firing up overhead.

Tourist: Oh, shit...

Tourist: Oh, fuck...

Casey: Wait, what? What's the problem? Something going on out there?

Tourist: Yeah, St. Vincent's church just lit up, can see it all the way from here. The location of the Reserve is no longer a secret, Casey. Fireworks, marching band, and a big neon sign flashing "The Reserve" might have been more subtle.

Tourist: Yeah. A building lit up in the distance. Looks like the church. Floodlights popped on or something. The whole city's going to know where the Reserve is now.

Casey: Both sides are going to descend on this place like flies on shit. I need to get the fuck out of here...now... Goddamn it, Tourist. I still can't open the door! Okay, okay...think, Casey...think! Alright...I think I know what's going on...the doors won't open until the pump system knows where to redirect the water. There's a manual flow control inside the church. You need to get over here quick, open the valve to one of the rooms so the water has a place to go, then the doors will unlock and I can get the hell out, Tourist. Come on, please, please! I don't want to be stuck in this place when a bunch of nuts with guns show up feeling greedy. And neither do you.

The Tourist goes to the Resting Place.

Resting Place

The Tourist emerges from the catacombs. At the house closest to them, Ambre's corpse rests against the exterior wall, which is splattered with blood. The Tourist picks up a drawing on the ground, which depicts May and Ambre, the latter of which is holding a cat. The Tourist follows a trail of blood into the house and finds a woman sitting in a pool of blood and clutching her injured side.

Wounded Exile: I didn't want her to die...forgive me, please...

Tourist: Who died?

Tourist: What happened here?

Wounded Exile: Ambre...she ran after her mom as they were taking her away...right into the middle of everything...the crossfire...

Tourist: Are you the one who killed May's daughter?

Wounded Exile: No, but...it was our fault...

Tourist: Where is Ambre's mother? Where's May?

Wounded Exile: I don't know...she ran off...into the shadows...

Wounded Exile: We were desperate...to get back into the Tower...we thought...we thought if we turned May in...Tower would take us back...take care of us... We fucked up... I warned them it was a terrible idea...something bad would happen. But they didn't listen. We fucked up so bad...

Tourist: Fuck you.

Tourist: You're forgiven...

The exile mumbles indistinctly. The Tourist hears growling and goes outside, seeing a zombified Ambre, who they can kill. They walk onto the street; buildings are on fire and Reclaimed and Tower soldiers are all around, firing at each other. The Tourist enters the gate to the side of the church, climbs up the ladder on the truck in front of the barricade.

Reclaimed Soldier 1: We can't win this. Fucking Tower's got us outnumbered...

Reclaimed Soldier 2: We're dead if we don't fucking move... It's over, fall back...

Tower Soldier 1: They're on the run! Move up now!

Reclaimed Soldier 3: Retreat! Tower's everywhere...

Tower Soldier 2: Church is ours! May the Tower Always Stand!

The Tourist climbs up the scaffolding and enters the church attic. They drop down into the next room and walk through the hallway, reaching a room with a control system with a radio attached to it.

Casey: Tourist...you there yet? Tourist...come in...time is short... Come on, Tourist...come on...

Tourist: I'm here, Casey. At the controls...

Casey: Oh, thank god! I'm not sure how much time we have left before my room is underwater. Activating the pumps fucked everything up. The room is filling up fast. I need you to redirect the flood flow to the armory, and quick! Look, I know I promised you all the weapons you'd ever be able to carry, but I...I'm sorry. We have to let them go.

Tourist: We had a deal, Casey. I help you and the Reserve supplies are mine. This feels like a bait-and-switch.

Casey: Yeah...I can see how you might feel that way...but...complications arise, okay? This was a possible scenario, yes...but odds were against it. But here we are. We have to adapt. And besides...this is my life we're talking about here, Tourist. I mean...supplies are just supplies...

Tourist: What happened with the pumps? I went through all that trouble for nothing?

Casey: I don't know what happened. Maybe the system was already pushed too far. Point is, you need to redirect the flow now, or I am dead. I know I sold you a bill of goods that I can't deliver on anymore, and that sucks, I'm sorry, but this is my life we're talking about here, Tourist. Flood the armory...please...

The Tourist pulls the lever, changing it to the "ARMORY" setting, and they turn the valve.

Casey: It worked! Holy shit! Thank you, Tourist! For a second, I thought...oh...never mind... The door unlocked! I'll head up and meet you in the church. Fresh fucking air! WHOO-HOO!

The Tourist pulls the lever, changing it to the "COMMS ROOM" setting, and they turn the valve.

Casey: Wait, wait! What did you do?! You fucking psychopath! I trusted you! I hope you burn in hell! You--no--not like this! Not like this!

The Tourist inputs the code 1006, then pulls the lever, changing it to the "FLOOD ALL" setting, and they turn the valve.

Casey: Wait, wait! What did you do?! You fucking psychopath! I trusted you! I hope you burn in hell! You--no--not like this! Not like this!

Tower Soldier 1: Establish a perimeter! Flush out any Reclaimed stragglers. No mercy.

Tower Soldier 2: Round up exiles. Clear out those camps. This is Tower territory now. Move the strays out.

The Tourist goes through the now-unlocked door at the end of the hallway. The Tourist breaks down the planks nailed across the doorway at the other end of the room. They walk through the doorway. A loud bell rings.

Tower Soldier 3: Who the fuck rang the bell?

Tower Soldier 1: Shit! Herd is close.

Tower Soldier 3: Just up the fucking street.

Tower Soldier 1: Voices down. We draw their attention, we're gonna get slaughtered...

Tower Soldier 3: We gotta get the church open.

Tower Soldier 1: Relax! Everybody shut up...

Tower Soldier 2: Shut that fucking kid up! NOW! Fucking exiles gonna get us all killed!

The Tourist walks through the church. The room is littered with upturned furniture, debris, and corpses. At the end of the room, a bloodied May holds a rope, which is attached to the bell high above. If Casey is alive, he stands in front of her, his hands raised.

May: Back off! Take one step toward me and I'll really ring the bell! Every walker within a five-mile radius will descend upon this place and tear everyone apart.

Casey: You don't want to do that. Just because we're safe in here doesn't mean you can ring that bell and kill all those people. That you, Tourist? Oh, thank god! Look, you have to talk some sense into her. If she rings that bell...

May: Didn't you hear them out there? Needlessly slaughtering each other when they should be unified. They have always been stupid and cruel, even before the world went to shit. Their fucked up philosophies. Their petty treachery. Even the innocent. Their pathetic desperation. They all twisted my priorities. Blinded me to the truth. I should have been looking after me and mine. All along. I allowed THEM to take her away from ME! They are the reason my daughter is dead.

Tourist: They all deserve punishment. And you should deliver it...

Tourist: May! You shouldn't do this. It won't bring Ambre back, and you are not a murderer...

The Tourist says nothing.

Casey draws his pistol and aims it at May.

Casey: Tourist! She's lost it. Listen to her! We can't let her ring that bell! One of us has to kill her! Please...don't force me to do it...

May: I'm glad you're here, Tourist. To bear witness. The slate needs to be wiped clean.

Casey: We are out of time!

May: Drown in death, motherfuckers!

Casey: Please!

May: Every last one of you!

Casey: Do it now, Tourist!


The Tourist kills May.

Casey: Thanks for stopping her, Tourist. I'm not sure I could have brought myself to do it.

Tourist: May was gone the moment Ambre died. She was out of her mind with grief. I stopped her from doing something she would have regretted forever.

Tourist: I was not about to let her kill innocent people, no matter what happened to May.

Casey: You did the right thing. I'm just sorry it had to happen. It's eerie. All of this going down right here...in this church. Same spot as...before. I know it doesn't really mean anything, there's no connection, but...it still has my skin crawling. Knowing all those bodies from the massacre are just right over there. Part of me wants to confront it. Pay respects. Another part wants to run out the door.

The Tourist kills Casey. May rings the bell, then collapses to her knees.

May: What's done is done. I ain't got nothing left.

The Tourist can kill May and Casey, or let Casey kill May and then kill him.

Casey shoots May.

Casey: I asked you...I begged you to do it... I didn't want to kill her...she forced me...you forced me...there's blood on my hands now... I'm not a killer, Tourist...but you both turned me into one...and here, of all places...all those bodies from the massacre...just right over there...

Tourist: Sorry, Casey, but you did the right thing. Innocent lives were saved, thanks to you. Take heart in that, at least.

Casey: Thanks. It's gonna fuck with my head for a while, that's for sure. But maybe, knowing that lives were saved this time, I can move on.

Tourist: You didn't have to kill her, Casey. There might have been another way.

Casey: She'd lost it, Tourist! She was about to slaughter innocent people. You think I'm happy about this? I've never killed anyone before, but for fuck's sake, Tourist, you know I couldn't let another massacre happen here, right before my eyes. I HAD to do it!

Tourist: You had to make a tough choice, Casey. On that front, I understand.

Casey: Thanks. It's gonna fuck with my head for a while, that's for sure. Maybe, you know, lives were saved this time. I gotta move on.

Tourist: You never have to do anything, Casey. You made a choice. You live with it. The right or the wrong? That's for you to decide.

Casey: You're right, Tourist. That's the decision I'll make for now. You're always fucking right, aren't you?

Casey: There's a bright side to this, I guess. I know I didn't kill any of these people. If this is what it feels like to...to kill. I'd have known it from the second I pulled the trigger.

May rings the bell, then collapses to her knees.

May: What's done is done. I ain't got nothing left.

Casey: I'm sorry about the Reserve, Tourist. I made a promise I couldn't deliver. There might be a few things down there to scavenge, but...anything really valuable...it's gone. You may as well check, though. I'm gonna head my own way. I've been cooped us so long, I feel like I need to just get moving. Get out of this swamp and head back north. Thanks again, Tourist. You saved my life. I won't forget it.

Tourist: You fucked me over, Casey. No two ways about it.I'm going to head down to the Reserve, see what I might be able to scrounge up. Whatever it is, I doubt it'll make up for the waste of time.

Tourist: I don't care about any of that, Casey. What's important is that you made it out. I'm going to head down to the Reserve, see what I might be able to scrounge up. Good luck to you. Hope you make it north safely.

Tourist: I'll let it slide, Casey. Just keep it in the back of your mind that you owe me one if we ever run into each other again. Big time. I'm going to head down to the Reserve, see what I might be able to scrounge up. Good luck to you. Hope you make it north safely.

The Tourist pulls the rope. If Casey is alive, he sinks to his knees.

If May or the Tourist rung the bell, screams can be heard from outside, and blood sinks through the windows and under the walls of the church. The Tourist finds the entrance into the Reserve. Depending on what was flooded, the Tourist can collect supplies from the comm room, the armory, or neither. The Tourist climbs up the ladder. They get in the boat outside.

Task completed: New Orleans Shout

The Tourist sails away.

Video Game Transcripts
Season 1 A New DayStarved For HelpLong Road AheadAround Every CornerNo Time Left
Season 2 All That RemainsA House DividedIn Harm's WayAmid The RuinsNo Going Back
Season 3 Ties That Bind - Part 1Ties That Bind - Part 2Above The LawThicker Than WaterFrom The Gallows
Season 4 Done RunningSuffer The ChildrenBroken ToysTake Us Back
400 Days Vince's StoryWyatt's StoryRussell's StoryBonnie's StoryShel's StoryEpilogue
Michonne In Too DeepGive No ShelterWhat We Deserve
Saints & Sinners Saints & Sinners
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