MAY YOUR DEATH BE SWIFT.

abby can't leave like that. blood-loss, sepsis. the shit and dirt from the world outside will infect her. she'll die. despite what abby says she wants, faith does not want her to die.

green mist seems to burst from her back; ghostly wings spread through the enclosed space. a milky-eyed angel takes faith's place, muttering incoherent words of praise to the father while it digs its fingers in, in, in to abby's leg. something small and metallic clinks against the metal flooring.

faith's disembodied voice: wake up.

it sure as shit isn't hers. she doesn't remember getting here. she doesn't remember the slog through heavy bunker doors, or being dragged across bliss-soaked floors. she doesn't remember being hauled onto the bed, or dirt gritting against her teeth as she hits the deck. (every time, she wakes up somewhere new. the bunker is... new. overgrown, like a greenhouse left to the world and woven with weeds and branches until it's taken back by what was once here before. the bliss flowers look serene. pretty. they curve like bells down trellises and make the room look like the entrails of a nymph. she knows better — there's a beast in the control room, hooked up with vines and long stems. its chest opens into a puff of noxious gas that makes her so goddamn dizzy she can barely stand. wake up.)

a bloodied maw grins back at her, and for a second it looks like the blood is pooling from behind her own teeth. it's faith but not faith — muzzled, and it's almost like abby can feel its hunger as it digs shattered nails into soft flesh that rips apart like it's nothing. wake up. wake up. wake up.

they're getting closer now, you have to wake up. (her voice mingles with faith's — hers is lighter, softer. it sounds sickly. she's telling you to wake up and your own brain is slamming fists against the wall of your skull to pull yourself out of the jaws of the damned.)

she wakes to far-off cries and spattering of gunshots from across the canyon. a hand slaps hard against a neatly-wrapped bandage pressed tight beneath her pants and her heart thumps heavily in her head.

Well, I have some interesting news for you.

Are these assholes still with us?

Only got a few hours left until curfew.

Ration line hasn’t opened yet. Must be running low again.

Better not mention them too loudly. You don’t want the wrong person hearing you.

Fuck… so much for the easy route.

Patch yourself up, alright?

You see that shit?

You stay outta trouble, alright? Military’s gonna be out in force soon.

No signs of military or infected.

Let’s grab our gear. Our backpacks are still here from last time.

Make your shots count.

It’s like we’re on a date.

You think he’s still got our guns?

Once we get our merchandise back, it should be easy to unload.

Body’s not that old. Better keep your eyes and ears open.

Get your ass up here. Let’s move.

Didn’t realise you two were together.

Turn the fuck around and leave now.

I will bash your skull unless you turn around and get your dumb ass outta here.

Let’s spread out and make sure no one’s creeping around here.

You’re insane. Going outside the wall is suicide.

You wanna tell us where the guns are?

You know, I might’ve done that if you hadn’t tried to fucking kill me.

I need something smuggled out of the city.

Ain’t a big fan of these odds.

We can sneak by them, even though I know that’s not your style.

Damn, we missed all the action.

I’m running on fumes, but I’ll make it.

What the hell are we smuggling?

Get the fuck away from her!

What’re you, like twelve?

I’ll be honest with you, I could give two shits about what you’re up to.

You mumble in your sleep.

Sorry it took so long - soldiers are fucking everywhere.

I’m not infected.

Everyone turns within two days, so you stop bullshitting.

When I give you the signal, we run.

There’s so many of them out there - how are we supposed to get past them?

They haven’t spotted us yet, let’s go around.

You better be worth it.

Are we safe?

Hey, fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.

I mean, we’ve come this far, let’s just finish it.

Damn. That’s quite a drop.

If you hear one clicking, you gotta hide - that’s how they spot you.

Let’s search for supplies.

Other than shitting my pants, I’m fine.

This is crazy. Just don’t look down.

I was thinking… after we get back, we can take it easy for a little while.

How do we get out of this place?

How were you bitten?

I’m surprised she didn’t shoot you.

Man… you can’t deny that view.

I can’t swim.

I know you’re getting paid for this, but I’m trying to say thanks.

I know that you are smarter than this.

Guess what, we’re shitty people. It’s been that way for a long time.

I’m not going anywhere. This is my last stop.

Our luck had to run out sooner or later.

Holy shit, she’s infected.

Oops, right?

This is fucking real.

I can buy you some time, but you have to run.

I will not turn into one of those things.

Come on. Make this easy fro me.

We just left her to die.

Let’s find them and get the hell out of here before clickers show up.

They’ll think you’re crazy, or they’ll try to kill you.

You do what I say, when I say it. We clear?

I’ve never seen anything like this, that’s all.

I don’t mean to upset you, but your friend’s chances of survival weren’t too high to begin with.

I doubt I could get either one of us back into the city in one piece.

So let’s say we get a car from this buddy of yours. Then what?

Some places got a head’s up before the infection showed up. Most didn’t.

Must be hard, just leaving all your stuff behind like that.

Anybody else live in this town?

Let me use that. I’m a pretty good shot with that thing.

When we get there, you let me do the talking.

You’re gonna find my body when I die from a heart attack.

Jeez, that thing scared the shit outta me!

Those things are kinda awesome.

Get off your ass and on your feet!

Don’t slow down. This place ain’t secure.

You got any bites?

Who the fuck is this punk and what’s she doing here?

Whatever favours you think I owe you, it isn’t worth that much.

If I’m gonna do this, there’s some gear I’m gonna need.

Whatever supplies you may want or need, I suggest you grab them.

Man, he’s got a fucking stick up his ass.

Don’t leave the door open.

Can’t believe you agreed to this bullshit.

Why don’t you fix one of those cars?

Don’t be a dick.

You picked a hell of a place to hole up.

As bad as those things are, at least they’re predictable.

It’s the normal people that scare me.

I need a gun.

This goes on record as the worst fucking job you’ve ever taken.

In this world, that sort of shit’s good for one thing: getting you killed.

Nice place you got here.

If you would give me a gun, I could help you kill some of these fuckers!

Maybe you should’ve given her a gun.

There’s more of those clicker things inside the house.

That was easier than I thought it’d be. They must be holed up somewhere else.

Get me up there and I’ll drop it to you.

Don’t get killed up there.

Oh, fuck - they’re piling over this fence over here. It’s not gonna hold!

Please tell me you’re done!

Get ready to haul ass.

Shit, there’s more on the way. Barricade the doors.

That doesn’t sound good.

What the fuck is that!?

Hate to interrupt your little biology lesson, but can we get the fuck outta here please?

Oh, I fucking hate those things!

So… that worked out well.

Somebody had the same idea. They stole my shit.

You ought to be thankful you’re still drawing breath.

That was plan A, B, C, all the way to fucking Z.

He’s the only idiot who would wear a shirt like that.

Look, you wanted a plan B. This is as good as it gets.

Let me know when you’re ready to finish this thing.

You’re doing a good job. I figure you should know.

We’re gonna give it another go.

That girl nearly got us killed.

You’d be amazed at how many cars still have gas in them.

Get the fuck out of my town.

This make you all nostalgic?

Oh… why are all these pages stuck together?

I’m just fucking with you.

Why don’t you try and get some sleep, alright?

Holy shit… are we going to help him?

What’s wrong with these guys?

This motherfucker’s dangerous… he killed all of them.

You know the drill. Look around, see if there’s anything we can use.

There’s some pretty gnarly stuff in here.

That’s a lot of people that didn’t make it.

So, uh. You kill a lot of innocent people?

I guess this is where the assholes sleep.

Dead people don’t get infected.

You sacrifice the few to save the many.

Where did you learn to shoot?

If you want some lessons, I’m more than willing to help you out.

They pull this crap every time. I swear to god, if they’re holding out on us again…

Okay, we need to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationery.

I found a joke book.

I walked into my sister’s room and tripped on a bra. It was a booby trap.

“A book just fell on my head. I only have myself to blame.“ Oh wait, I said it wrong. Hold on, let me read it again. “A book just fell on my head… I only have my shelf to blame.” Heh… ruined it.

Do you even understand what that means?

It’s strange seeing a checkpoint with no soldiers.

This place has been abandoned for a while now.

Let’s keep it down while we’re going through this area, okay?

I’m so fucking tired.

Now that we have enough people watching all the exits, he says we can set up a larger perimeter.

Every time we try, it ends up with a bunch of us getting killed.

Keep your expectations in check, youngun. You’ll live longer.

Look at all these books. I wish I had more room in my backpack.

What did the mermaid wear to her math class? An algae bra.

Okay, I’m all joked out.

We’re cutting through the hotel.

The wood’s all rotten.

Ever stay in a place like this? Before it all went to shit, I mean.

I really miss coffee.

You are a weird kid.

“People are making up apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow…” Too soon.

doesn't that sound familiar?

abby doesn't have hope. hope died for her when she found her father like that. peace, for abby, is a never-ending war. faith can't allow her to infect their new eden. she must be redirected. the war is with the end, not with the project, not with the father... the angels have hope. hope, really, is all that they have.

she wont be swayed, though. with a handful of bliss powder, faith draws closer to abby, sighing. disappointment is clear on her face and in her voice as she speaks, hopping from one step to the next.

height does not scare faith. she can fly. the ground will never catch up to her, all the way up here.

"oh, abby..." tsk, tsk. poor, poor abby. not ready yet.

we all know that the angels get back up because of the bliss. they are able to work with shattered bones, punctured organs. it's only if they hit their heads that they don't recover. maybe they don't really climb to the top at all. a hard fall from anywhere would be convincing enough, once faith's roots have settled in.

"don't be scared when you fall. i'll be there to catch you."

"faith — fuck, faith, don't — FAITH—"

air billows around her. she doesn't know how long she's falling for. it feels as though her stomach's still at the top there, but when she goes hurtling to her death, and when it really matters, she can't bring herself to shut her eyes. she falls. hard. the impact knocks her out before she even hits the ground.

she's groggy when she comes to. one arm stretches out from beneath her, and the other presses itself firmly into hard stone to remind herself that she's here. she's alive. her pulse is thrumming, hard and punctuating every pin of the ache in her head, and like the undead slowly shuddering off each rigour, she catches her breath, and carefully pulls herself to sit up.

there are bodies around her. others to walk the path, with brains split open and jutting out from jagged rocks. there are bones at wrong angles, pools of rotting, dry blood infested with flies and the lone vulture pecking carefully at the exposed matter oozing out from a skull. the statue is nowhere in sight, just two corners of a cavern's mouth peering back out at her. there are no explosives. no parachutes. just the far-off huff of a deer that quickly startles back into where the sun splits the trees.

a lion and a mouse, right? faith is the harmless helper, putting herself in danger for the sake of the big scary lion... or is she a wolf? if faith were really here, wouldn't abby find it in her to strangle the life out of her?

any of her brothers and she would. what's stopping abby now? a sense of faith's victimhood, or does she really seem that pitiful and harmless?

so many questions. all faith can offer abby is questions. all abby wants is questions. when all of the answers are given and there is nothing left to smash to pieces, abby is going to crumble. she will be left with nothing but the scars and the blood on her hands and the scraps of faith's confirmation gown beneath her fingernails.

no father, no nothing. she might not even be alive, in the end. and what a waste that is.

"i don't want you anywhere near me." she sees it now — it flashes in front of her eyes, the stark difference between blood-soaked fingers digging into the trembling flesh of her thigh, and the dirty white dress that bunches up at her thighs. but it's different here — she sees faith pluck a small shell while her leg pulses red and slick, and she swallows it with a pretty grin. i told you i'd take care of you. it sounds like a melody, a nursery rhyme that's about to send her back to sleep with the corners of her vision starting to darken, but abby shakes herself out of it and hobbles silently toward the door.

"you... taking care of me — that turns me into one of them. let me go, faith — i'll leave you. i have to go. you know i do."

her teeth are rimmed with red, and her vision flickers to something else. she's not chewing on a bullet this time, but thick, sinewy thigh muscle that comes out in chunks between her fingers. she claws and she pulls and keeps eating her fill. vulture.

she could take the sin out of her mind, the rage repurposed into something that will till the soil, keep them all safe... faith doesn't want to have to do that. faith wants to keep abby pure, she wants abby with her on her own terms, not her brothers.

fuck your brother. fuck the both of them. the living ones, that is.

jacob would have a field day with abby. he would make her into a mindless machine. she can't allow abby to cross the threshold into his territory.

"when i came to edens gate, i was broken..." faith murmurs. "abby, i was like you. only i didn't have your strength, your resolve... the father saved me. the father gave me a purpose. the father helped me to see who it was i needed to be to be strong and survive...

can't you say the same? aren't you stronger now?

i want to save you from what they'll do to you if they catch you. if you come willingly, you'll be given the same choice i was. you can fly. you can fly, just like me. leave all of that other stuff in the dirt, in the dark... i'm offering you choice. ease. hope...

when faith turns that mirror to the mountains of bodies left in her wake, it doesn't feel like the same thing. there are smudges in each end of the glass, but they aren't the same. faith hides her cruelty behind green smog and butterflies, but at least abby owns it.

"you think we're the same?! you're a fucking creep that keeps showing up and telling me how i can be saved!" the easy option would be for faith to leave. faith fractures reality. she mumbles about hope and love and peace, then leaves abby picking at each shard until she can make out what happened. she thinks half of the resistance avoids her anyway — when she's there, it goes silent, and she sits against a knapsack with a tattered copy of old man and the sea until the fire dies and her head throbs itself into a two hour plagued sleep. it's not belonging she's hunting for. it doesn't come in the form of a rebellion or even infused in bliss oil.

"the angels are happy in the bliss. we are all together in the bliss. why can't you see that? when you detonate these explosives, debris will fall from the sky -- "

and the lord sent thunder and hail, and fire ran down to the earth; and the lord rained hail upon the land of egypt... the hail struck down everything that was in the field in all the land of egypt, both man and beast. and the hail struck down every plant of the field and broke every tree of the field.

"--you're going to ruin so much. you're going to kill so many. and the angels -- the angels, abby, they're going to lose their way."

taking them from their peaceful rest. faith tugs on abby's heartstrings. she keeps her grounded to the marble with the weight of her words.

(there she is again — faith tries to manipulate her. she sees her fears and twists them against her, and honest to fucking god, she thinks that it's faith pushing her feet out from under her. she looks innocent, sweet, calm, with soft fingers that trace the bridge of her nose and across the crest of her cheek, but beneath it all, each touch is jagged, cut like glass. and all abby can do is try and remember that, even if it threatens to pull away from her each time she looks at her.)

"you've already killed them — don't you get it? you don't give them hope. hope is... dangerous. they're dead already." she takes a cautious step toward her, leaving her arm outstretched and pressed against the cool hard surface of the marble (don't look down, even when you can't find your feet. don't fucking look down, or you'll never get back there. she'll let you fall. she's right.)

with a small frown on her face, faith turns abby's cheek to look down at her. turn her around... was she walking to the door? where is the door now? they're in the woods. no, a bunker, no, at the heavenly gates. rest your bones, abby. the end is so close. just stay. it would hurt them both so much if abby just stayed.

faith whispers all of this and more in one of abby's ears. her voice is a butterfly-wing flutter.

"you have to let me go." it's less about the door, which makes her brow furrow each time she thinks she's heading toward it and finding that faith has somehow spun her around again, and more about this deep urge within her to follow her. faith picks at her like a scab. every time she thinks it heals, that asinine scent fills her nose and she's back with a girl that's half-there wrapped in a sundress. (the closer she looks, the more off-putting it is. she wasn't meant to get this close — within the bunker walls and within an arm's breadth of her. truth be told, she can't fucking tell if she is here or whether she's going to wake up on the side of the mountain to a dying fire and the howl of a coyote. no one was supposed to get this close, but even now, even when she stands before her with an arm outstretched and that same worry-line creasing her forehead, abby can't say if she's close at all.)

faith touches her and she still can't tell. there's the soft imprint of her hand on her cheek, the hint of warmth that she's trying to figure out if she's felt before, and her larger palm closes around faith's to pull it down from her face.

the bliss fumes reach high into the sky. even nick rye hears her sometimes, buzzing around in that rickety yellow machine. there is nowhere in hope county beyond faith's reach.

she dances, winding, on the tip of joseph's finger like a ballerina. she isn't afraid of falling. none of them are, by the end of their journey to the leap of faith. she isn't scared for abby, but chastising her...

"they wanted to let you walk the path. the angels weren't going to do you harm. you're hurting them! hurting so many innocent souls!" the bombs tick along behind her. "you have to stop. turn around. go back down. you're going to kill yourself. you're breaking my heart."

"get out of my head." you're breaking my heart. it stings in a way she knows it... doesn't? or shouldn't. the two intermingle, and when she weaves in between her own bloody handprints upon stark white marble, she can only ignore it. she'll break her heart, because she has to. because there are people hoping she will.

"i'm not playing your games any more." when she scrambles to her feet, the wind tries its best to knock her off course (there's no lighthouse in this harbour — she's learnt it now. she's learnt that the only way to get through this is to ignore all the warning signs. there's more at stake than a marble statue.)

vengeance, rifle kickbacks, the rotten faces of angels who spent too long in the montana sun. is faith there too? is the bliss more beautiful in dreams, or is it the death abby keeps telling herself it is?

the bullet is still there, but that’s the beautiful thing about faith’s creation: a little more bliss and all of that can go away. it can go away, can’t it? if she just rests? if she just settles down, gets comfortable. soon, once the infection sets in, she won’t be troubled with thoughts of running away, needing to stand on that leg at all… she’ll be with her father, in the bliss.

she has been warned — faith is not to be fucked with, as sharky told her. her name follows a wince from the resistance, and a subdued nod when they remember all those who have fallen to the bliss. she stares back, cold and hard, in a desperate attempt to push off each tendril of psychoactive calm and keep everything solid in front of her. (she feels a hand on her arm, but she can't tell if it's real. she feels the way faith pierces her gaze and wonders if she's still sleeping, or how long she's been sleeping for this to feel so real—)

"you need to let me go." it's bordering on a plea. with eyes trained on the hand that holds her, and fingers all but itching to press over it to peel it from her forearm, abby nods and limps a further step forward.