IT AIN'T LIKE IT WAS BEFORE.

     “Fighting Third,  huh?”  His whole demeanor shifts then.  Doesn’t quite soften but comes close enough to it to almost smile  ––  it’s slight,  a small hitch at the corner of his mouth,  but it counts.  “Ain’t that the truth.  Knew a couple men myself who served Third.  They always got these  stories  to tell,  you know,  real heavy shit that,  uh––that sticks with you.  You think about it later,  pull it apart.  All those pieces that just made it sound like goddamn  child’s play,  like they didn’t carry the  war  back with ‘em.”  There’s a measure of respect in the way he says this,  and how he looks to the clear sky as if he were searching for something.  His gaze drops a moment after.  Back to the ground,  to the dirt and filth and years of  wear  on his boots.  

     “Yeah,  that’s that Marine shit.  Sixteen years,  three tours as a Marine Force Recon.  I was a,  uh …  scout sniper,  and I was––hell,  I was one of the best there was,  you know,  I loved it.  When I was out in the field …  I’ll tell you,  man,  there was nothin’ else fucking like it.  Nothing could beat that feeling.  But that was my  problem,  see,  I––I put too much trust in a government with hand’s in everybody’s goddamn  pockets,  you know,  and,  uh …  there were things I did,  things––things I got involved in that damned every single one of us.  There was no  honor  in what we did.  …  anyway,  I’m,  uh––I’m sorry,  you know,  about your grandfather.  That’s dark shit.  Curtis,  he knew a couple of brothers who,  uh …  who punched their timecard ahead of schedule too.”

     “Christ.  Sounds about like New York,  except,  uh––it wasn’t just the  hospitals.  Yeah …  I remember they,  uh,  they brought the  Humvees  into the streets,  you know,  they were blocking roads,  thinking they could get people into  quarantine.  Had these––these tents set up in Manhattan and one or two other boroughs for a little while after all the hospitals were flooded.  Corpsmen stationed at each,  one to a tent,  you know,  and––those tents,  man,  they had at least ten or twenty people a piece.  Didn’t last long.  Few hours,  maybe less,  ‘till they started gunning everyone down.  All that  blood,  man,  it was everywhere,  it was all in the streets––blood and shit and people missing their limbs,  halves of whole goddamn  bodies,  people  turning  and grabbing whoever was closest.  First place I went was to get Karen,  told her,  uh …  told her to lock the door,  you know,  she worked in this  office,  so I told her to lock the door ‘n stay there ‘till I come for her.  Gave her another clip for that hand cannon she carried.  Went to get Curtis,  ‘cause by that point,  the lines were going down.  Took him to Lieberman’s ‘n then I went back for her.  I knew I shouldn’t have left her,  man,  she––by the time I got to her,  everyone in that goddamn building was either dead or,  uh,  dead and  walking.  At least ten or fifteen of ‘em,  ‘n they were all trying t’ get to her,  you know,  they were after Karen.  I’ll never forget the look on her face,  man,  it was––it was like she …  she thought I wasn’t comin’ back,  even if it was just for a second.  After I put ‘em down,  I got her and Curtis,  Lieberman ‘n his family,  got ‘em the hell out of the city quick as I could.”

     Your girls.  He was prepared for his body to have an adverse reaction to that  ––  prepared for it to go cold and stiff.  It didn’t.

     “Loretta,  man,  she’s …  she’s been through some shit.  Never had a doubt in my goddamn mind that I’d find her  alive,  you know.  She’s a tough kid.  Karen was a,  uh––she was a journalist,  a front-page reporter for the  Bulletin,  you know,  a tabloid newspaper in New York,  so she got the stories first before anybody else.  Talked to me about it one night when she got home from work,  she was …  she couldn’t let it  go,  man,  she was sitting on the goddamn couch with her  Pad Thai,  you know,  eating that shit right out of the container and talkin’ to me about it,  and I mean she––she was goin’ on about it for  hours,  asking me what I thought ‘n before I could say a goddamn  word,  she’d launch off again.  Could hardly keep up with her.  Karen’s––she’s one of the smartest women I’ve ever met.  Gotta be honest with you,  man,  I don’t …  I don’t know where I’d be without her.  …  you said,  uh,  said  Rick  was in the hospital when the shit hit the fan.  What happened?”

       "those were what my gramps considered  bedtime stories,  man,  he  —  he was tellin’ me shit before i was old enough t’ understand half’a what it meant.  before i could,  uh,  could appreciate ‘em for what they were,  ‘n even when i got older,  y’know,  i,  i’d never claim t’ know where he was comin’ from.  ‘cause i was never there myself,  i never served,  never went t’ war.  sure you two would’a had a lot t’ talk about,  huh.”  he says it with an equal measure of respect,  but holds off on the  thank you for your service  speech;  his grandfather had never much cared for it,  and he has a feeling that frank wouldn’t either.

       the more he listens,  the more he hears,  the more he can think back on the news and acknowledge just how much was left out.  he’d only caught fragments,  because new york was a world away.  but they’d spun it a whole lot different.  stamped a nickname on the man,  played him off as some crazy vet with an itchy trigger finger and no real motivation.  like he’d woken up one day and started to unload on just about anyone.  he’s quieter,  again.  “—  curtis,  that’s the man that you lost?  i’m sorry ‘bout that,  too,  it’s  —  it ain’t easy,  don’t matter how many times y’ go through it.”  he doesn’t dwell on things;  that doesn’t mean they have no impact.

       “...  quarantine.  shit,  i remember that.”  there’s a scoff,  almost.  “’member hearin’ about a refugee center in atlanta,  that’s where everybody was headed.  s’ where i was takin’ rick’s family but we never made it past the highway.  good thing we didn’t,  ‘cause that same night’s the night they were droppin’ napalm in the streets.  karen,  she,  uh  —  she sounds like somethin’ else,  man.  that would’a bothered the hell outta me,  too,  knowing all that,  wanting answers ‘n just  —  just diggin’ up more questions,  like the whole damn world’s losin’ their minds ‘n you’re the only one who’s got any sense left.  whatever happened,  man,  whatever y’all had t’ fight through just t’ get here,  seems like she’s in it for the long haul.  it’s good,  y’know,  it’s good havin’ people stand behind you like that.”

     “Yeah …  used to,  uh,  used to hear this saying all the time about the bullet that  kills  you,  you know,  how you don’t hear the shot before it gets you.  Always thought that was the biggest steaming pile of horse-shit I’ve heard in my goddamn life.  Lookin’ back,  it’s always the bullet with  your name on it  that you can hear and see with perfect goddamn clarity.  It’s the one that ain’t got shit on it that you gotta worry about,  ‘n that’s––that’s the thing with these goddamn  meat-sacks,  you know,  they don’t discriminate.  They don’t care who or  what  you are.  Guess I’m just preachin’ to the choir now,  huh?”

       their whole group’s been a melting pot brought to a steady boil for days.  supplies are scarce;  the nearest weapons cache,  one of frank’s,  allegedly one of many he’s got scattered across the country,  had been cleaned out.  coming to blows was an inevitability.  it’s the lack of a build - up that has him chasing the impulse to draw while his hand flexes at his side.

       he can take a punch.  learned that a long time ago,  way back in middle school the first time somebody squared up on the playground.  he’s lost count,  since then.  but frank doesn’t hit like a kid or a pissed off perp or rick or jenna  —  frank hits like a damn tank.  must’ve held back a little,  shane thinks,  otherwise his jaw would’ve cracked under the pressure and he would be doing more than spitting blood and what looks like a molar onto the dirt.  that’s still an ache he’ll be feeling for days.

       “—  so that’s how it is,  huh?”

       he spits again,  wipes his mouth with his palm.  everything’s red.  his hand,  the ground,  the whole world painted crimson.  the rise and fall of his chest is heavy.  anger,  exertion.  it takes everything not to return the favor.

       if there’s an explanation,  frank doesn’t offer it.  just stares him down with the same look he’s probably given dozens,  hundreds,  of others before now.  hundreds of others who’d flinch,  maybe put their hands up in surrender,  start to beg,  whatever else.  all shane does is stare him down right back.

       “look,  man,  you do what you gotta do.  feel like y’ wanna take another swing,  beat my ass int’ the ground,  that about right?  least gimme a reason for it,  see,  ‘cause last i checked,  you ‘n me  —  we’re on the same side.”

     “Thought right.  There were,  uh …  five or six of ‘em,  came at us from all sides.  Her knife got stuck on somethin’,  bone or cartilage,  maybe,  she couldn’t pull it loose––goddamn walker had her by the hair when I turned around,  I mean just grabbed her,  you know,  about had its jaws around her before I put him down.  I told her later,  I said …  rethinkin’ that haircut?  Yeah.  She didn’t like that.  It is what it is.  Shit happens,  that’s what I said.  Doesn’t make it any easier.  Especially not for her.”

     “Yeah,  I’m,  uh …  t’ be honest,  I’m more worried about  her,  you know,  she’s––she’s  blaming  herself for what happened out there,  thought I was chewin’ her out for it. ”

     “––  heard all that,  huh?  Figures.”  @honestmurder​

       “this your way of,  uh,  of  volunteering,  ‘s that it?  don’t go gettin’ all sweet on me now,  girl.  there’s plenty’a work t’ go around ‘n not enough  able bodies  willin’ t’ get their hands dirty.  seem t’ recall you never havin’ that problem.”

       it’s a dig,  but there’s no animosity behind it.  they’ve been throwing looks back and forth for days and what feels like every time he turns around,  there she stands.  the way she addresses him  —  officer,  just like before  —  started out snide and gradually became something else,  something a little more teasing than derisive.  he notices,  even if he doesn’t speak on it.  there isn’t much that happens in camp that he  doesn’t  notice.

       “y’ didn’t answer my question,  officer.”

       and there it is again;  his brow goes up like it’s caught with a fish hook,  and damned if her smile isn’t almost coy by this point.  she’s planted herself just inside arm’s reach,  hand on her hip.  waiting.

       "you just don’t let up,  huh?  okay,  then.  tell y’ what,  how ‘bout we take a drive,  get these fine folks their drinking water,  ‘n you can decide for yourself if i’m,  uh  —  if i’m bein’  taken care of,  how’s that sound?”

     “I tried t’ be,  but,  uh …  didn’t always work out.  Maria––she could be  brutal,  you know,  rip my heart right out of goddamn chest,  eat that shit for lunch,  then she’d …  she’d turn around ‘n smile at me, ‘n I was just done.  I was done,  it was over.  Always thought––you know,  becoming a Marine,  shit,  I was eighteen years old,  fresh out of high school ‘n I thought I was real hot shit,  you know,  thought I had all the experience I needed.  There wasn’t shit they could teach me that I didn’t already know other than how to hold a gun.  How to  shoot  the damn thing.  Yeah.  Couple days into training,  I had this––this  drill sergeant,  right,  he was right up in my ear screamin’ this whole  tirade  of bullshit,  man,  I mean he was chewing my ass to  pieces.  That’s when I realized.  Call it a moment of clarity,  call it whatever the hell you want,  but that’s when I realized all that  life experience  I thought I had––it didn’t amount to shit.  Funniest thing about it,  you know,  being a Marine taught me all kinds of different shit,  but still couldn’t teach me how to talk to a woman.  Guess you ain’t ever had that problem,  huh?  Figures,  man,  you remind me of,  uh …  those kids I used t’ beat the  shit  out of ‘cause they’d walk around that school,  right,  act like the only thing that  mattered  in life was how many notches they could get on their goddamn belt by the end of the year.  Jenna,  you know,  she,  uh …  she sounds like a wild card.  Seen her out there talkin’ to Karen a few times.”

     There’s nothing that could measure up to a loss like that.  He hopes Shane never finds that out for himself.  He hopes that his world will  always  have color and that his heart won’t ever break like his has,  to that same  earth-shattering  degree that turns a man into a monster.  That he won’t have to pick up one of those pieces,  use it to cut open his palm just to see that color again.  To pour it out into the streets because that’s all he  lives  for anymore.  “…  yeah.  Took me a long time to accept that.  For a while,  you know,  I looked at Karen and––and all I saw was everything they could take  away  from her,  you know,  all the shit that …  it makes her who she is.  Loretta,  man,  they’ve––the whole goddamn  world’s  been takin’ her apart piece by piece since she was barely old enough t’ stand up,  but she always …  she always fought back.  They both did.  I’ve  tried  pushin’ ‘em away,  you know,  both of ‘em,  swear to Christ,  but they don’t let me go easy.  Think they’d probably kick my ass up ‘n down that goddamn road if I ever pulled that shit again.  Guess in a way,  they,  uh …  they keep me safe,  too.  Just do me a favor,  yeah?  Keep your old lady at an arm’s distance from Lieberman.  Guy might shit his pants if she takes a crack at him,  ‘n that’s one mess I am  not  gonna clean up.”

       "—  no shit?  you never fired a weapon before all that?  that’s,  uh  —  that is a hell of a way t’ start,  i’ll give ya that much.  scout snipers,  man,  that’s the shit they make movies about.  think i was sixteen when rick ‘n i started talkin’ about it,  y’know,  talkin’ 'bout what we wanted t’ do after high school,  that whole talk.  told him i was either gonna enlist or join up with the sheriff’s department like my old man  —  came down to it,  i guess i had more,  uh,  more  inclination  t’wards the latter.  see,  my old man,  he had a good long run’a bein’ sheriff,  never let anybody forget it.  he took me out shootin’ for the first time when i was  ...  hell,  couldn’t’a been more than five or six.  he loads me up in the cruiser ‘n he drives us all the way out t’ the boonies,  man,  nothin’ but field ‘n trees for miles all ‘round.  then he takes out this li’l bitty shotgun,  y’know,  this,  uh  —  this mossberg .410,  tells me it ain’t gonna kick like a 20 gauge but it still damn near knocked me on my ass.  by the time i was old 'nough for the shooting range,  he’d had me hittin’ targets for five years already.  he,  uh  —  he was a hardass,  but he taught me right.  never looked at one’a them things ‘n thought it was a toy,  y’know,  i  —  he made damn sure i had the discipline for ‘em,  ‘n i did that,  man,  i did that with every kid i ever taught after that.”  the line about  notches on his belt  pulls another chuckle.  “yeah,  you ain’t wrong.  prob’ly would’a beat the shit outta myself,  too,  if we’re bein’ real honest here.  started steppin’ up my game freshman year when i realized i was stuck with this face.”

       “…  rick,  i  —  i thought you were dead.  that’s what i believed,  i believed that,  ‘n i  —  y’know,  i,  i went t’ that hospital,  i went back for you.  i went back for you ‘n it was just  —  soldiers,  man,  soldiers shootin’ people down in the halls,  everybody just  …  scrambling,  just tryin’ t’ figure out which way was up,  ‘n you  …  rick,  you were gone,  i swear on my life,  man,  you  —  you had no pulse.  you had no pulse,  you were  —  you were hooked up t’ these fuckin’ machines ‘n after the power got knocked out i  —  i couldn’t hear a heartbeat.  i couldn’t feel one.  they  —  they’d told us,  y’know,  they’d told us before it all went to shit,  that they was gonna med evac you,  get’cha to atlanta,  but they  …  they never made it that far.  it was so quick,  man.  whole damn world went crazy,  just overnight it seemed like.  patty  —  you remember patty taylor,  sophomore year?  yeah,  she,  uh,  she turned  —  right there in the station,  man,  i had t’ put her down,  ‘n right after that’s when i went back for you.  i swear i did.  all i was thinkin’ about,  all i  could  think about,  was gettin’ you outta there.”

       sometimes he still hears it,  if he pushes his consciousness aside and lets a little animal instinct take over.  he can hear the screams,  the gunfire,  all that noise that didn’t add up to anything but chaos.  chaos,  and panic,  and pure,  visceral fear.  and maybe this is too little,  too late.  maybe if they’d had this conversation sooner,  long before rick had put the pieces together about lori,  they wouldn’t have needed to draw blood just to get here.

       “shane  …”  there’s a strain in rick’s voice,  that quiet stoicism again,  that set of his jaw.  “i’ll make it up t’ you,  brother.  i’ll make it up t’ you somehow.”

       “—  nah,  man,  that’s  …”  he swallows,  throat like sandpaper.  the taste of copper and gunpowder thick on his tongue.  “you  —  you don’t gotta do that,  man,  we  —  look,  i know we ain’t seen eye t’ eye on things.  hell,  we ain’t seen eye t’ eye on anything lately,  but i  —  see,  i never wanted this.  i just  …  i want’cha t’ know that.”

       but what he wants,  what any of them want,  doesn’t carry enough weight anymore.  want  has been taken out of their hands,  if it was ever there to begin with.  therein lies the crux of the problem.  the reason he’s torn,  between needing to walk the other way and feeling like he’s bound here,  bound to rick,  bound by some unspoken obligation to do right by someone he’s considered family for longer than he can recall.  frustration chokes him,  sucks the air clean from his lungs.

       “i know,”  rick tells him.  “i know.”

       he laughs,  then;  a tired breath of a sound,  palm running over the crown of his head.  “so what do we do,  man?  where do we go from here,  how do we,  uh  …  y’know,  how do we  —  how do we make it right,  how do we come back from this?”

       unless they don’t.  unless that’s the part neither of them wants to admit:  there’s no coming back from this.