#we abide

“You going to be okay?” You asked, frowning slightly. The lights kept the snappers at bay, the Exodus Virus causing light sensitivity within its victims, but if provoked or hungry enough, they were more likely to engage.

Bill nodded, waving the two of you off.

“We’ll be fine,” he assured you. “Jus’ worry about yourselves for right now. Cathy and I’ll be on our way shortly.”

You nodded, grabbing your backpack and sliding it on over your shoulders. Mars whined at your feet, ears back and heavy pants letting you know that he was feeling anxious. You patted his head gently, lips pulling tight in an attempt to smile, though you’re sure it came across as more of a grimace.

Tyler waited patiently for you to get your things, green eyes studying you still as you walked to catch up to where he already stood by the door.

“No funny business, you hear me?” Bill warned once more, eyeing Tyler with a stern expression. Tyler let out a harsh breath as he scowled at the older man, cheeks tinged pink.

“Old man catches you in the barn loft one time,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two before starting as Tyler pushed the cafe door open, the hinges creaking slightly as the door stuck for a brief moment.

The cool, summer night washed over you, making you feel exposed despite the close cropping of buildings that surrounded you. A breeze gusted around you, stirring the leaves of the bushes and trees that now rustled in the wind. You shivered slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cool air kissed your warm skin.

“Come on,” Tyler urged, gesturing for you to follow him. “I’m just down the road.”

You walked close behind him, eyes flickering in a habit formed from your days on the road. The familiar sounds of bullfrogs and crickets graced your ears, and you found yourself longing for the summers of your childhood when you and Kate would run around outside catching as many fireflies as you could.

You tensed, arm reaching back to grab the handle of your hatchet as a twig snapped off towards your right. Tyler stopped, standing a little straighter as he took a half step in front of you, shielding your smaller form with his arm like he might push you back at the first sign of real danger.

The both of you relaxed as a rabbit hopped out from behind one of the bushes, its little nose twitching as it tasted the air. Tyler let out a curse as he dropped his arm, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair.

Your heart pattered in your chest as you almost bounced behind the man in front of you, staying alert but willing yourself to calm down. The streetlights flickered all around you, threatening total darkness.

Tyler pushed through the gate and into the yard of a modest, white one-story home. The grass was slightly overgrown and the walk leading up to the front door was cracked, but it wasn’t much different from the other houses that lined the vacant street. Tyler led you up the steps, the screen door creaking as he opened it and pushed inside the main door, holding it open for both you and Mars as you stepped through the threshold cautiously.

It was dark, but you could make out the silhouettes of various pieces of furniture. Tyler closed the door behind you, doing up the latch before stepping around you and further into the house.

“Just let me…” he trailed off, opening up the drawer of the console table that sat against the wall and pulling out a box of matches. He struck one, the tiny flame casting a halo of warmth in the room, and your eyes wandered to take in the decor.

Tyler began lighting various lanterns that sat strewn about on different surfaces as you wandered aimlessly. Several different paintings hung on the walls, mostly landscapes, and the different angel figurines caught your eye as you allowed yourself to run your fingers over them. Movement from the corner of your eye drew your attention away, and you turned to see Tyler watching you already.

“Didn’t take you for the old lady decor type,” you commented, a slight raise of your brow. He grimaced, eyes flickering down to the floor.

“I’m not,” he said, green eyes now looking at the figurine your fingers still lingered on. “This is my aunt’s place.”

There was a pause.

“Was…my aunt’s place,” he amended. Your fingers dropped back to your side as you frowned at him, a pang of guilt resounding in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “No need to be sorry. She was gone long before the rest of the world went to shit. I’ve just never gotten out of the habit of calling it hers even if she left it to me.”

“You must have really loved her.”

He said nothing for a moment, jaw clenching and unclenching as he thought over his words. He slumped against the door frame, crossing his arms as he looked back at you with an intense expression.

“I did,” he nodded, sniffing slightly. “I still do. This was like a second home to me growing up. She didn’t have any kids of her own, but she treated me like hers. When she got sick, it was only right that I come out here and take care of her.”

“You didn’t grow up here?” You asked. He snorted, shaking his head.

“No. I grew up just outside of Fayetteville with my folks. Spent my summers here, though,” he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He pushed off the door, swiping a hand over his mouth as he took a step towards you.

“You’ve got to be tired,” he hummed, eyeing you up and down. “Showers don’t work anymore, but I’ve still got some rain water from last week’s storm that you can use to wash up. It’s not fancy or anything, but I’ve got a tub you can use.”

You gave him a small smile, suddenly overly aware of the dirt and various other grime that clung to your skin.

“A bath would be nice, actually,” you told him, nodding. His cheeks tinged pink as he glanced away.

“I won’t look or nothing,” he muttered, shuffling on his feet, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m not a total degenerate, despite what Bill would have you think.”

“Right,” you hummed. “What’s that all about, anyway?”

Tyler rolled his eyes, a scowl already in place as he walked down the hall. You followed close behind, nearly running into another console table as he turned into another room.

“The old man caught me in the loft of his sister’s barn with his niece back when I was sixteen,” he explained, moving to strike another match. You watched as he lit the lanterns, revealing a modest bedroom with a four power bed pressed up to the side. Tyler shook the match out, tossing it onto the wooden dresser before pulling open one of the drawers. He rummaged through for a moment before pulling out a large, white t-shirt. He inspected it with a wrinkle in his brows before presenting it to you.

“This should work for tonight,” he nodded. “We can get you something that actually fits tomorrow.”

You took the shirt from him gingerly, holding the soft fabric in both hands as you nodded back at him.

“Thank you,” you murmured. Tyler stared at you, something in his eyes softening slightly before he blinked. He cleared his throat, walking around you once more and back into the hall.

“I’ll have to grab the water,” he explained, boots knocking against the hardwood as he stepped towards the kitchen. “It’s out in the garage. There’s towels in the bathroom cupboard. First door on your left.”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he walked through a door off to the side, the hinges creaking after him and leaving you in silence.

The water was cool, but not unpleasant against your skin. You had grown used to a life without hot showers, even a life without consistent bathing. You had hated it at first, but it had become a luxury after everything had shut down, and now you took whatever you could get, especially if it wasn’t a stream or river.

Tyler had used a bucket to bring the water in, the contents spilling every so often if he jostled it too much, but after a few trips back and forth, the tub had been filled enough for you to submerge yourself.

“I’ll be out in the living room” he told you, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Just holler if you need anything, okay? I promise I won’t come lookin’.”

You bit back a laugh as you watched him.

“I know you won’t,” you nodded. “Mars will make sure of it.”

The dog in question perked up at the sound of his name, tail wagging slightly as he stood guard by the door. Tyler shifted on his feet, earning a low, warning growl from the beast. His eyes widened a fraction before taking a half step back.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, holding his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t tryin’ anything.”

You chuckled at the memory, sliding further down against the porcelain as you let your muscles unwind. You had already cleaned yourself with the bar of soap Tyler had provided you.

“Locally made using the milk from Marie’s goats!” He had grinned. The slight scent of lavender had served to soothe you, another luxury you didn’t come across often. You had always loved scented soaps amongst other things back before the world had ended. Kate often teased you about your overflowing cupboards and totes.

“You know, you should use some of them before you go and buy more,” she would often tease. You would wave her off with a scowl or roll of your eyes. The thought made your heart clench in your chest, and you let out a wistful sigh as you remembered the spa days the two of you would hold on random weekends. Face masks and nail polish would litter your counters, fresh boxes of takeout sitting on the coffee table as the two of you binged whatever reality TV show had piqued your fancy at the time.

The echoes of laughter filled your ears, and for a moment you were back in those moments. Cheeks hurting from smiling so hard, breathless laughter as you doubled over in desperate wheezes, and the warmth of home settling in around you.

You opened your eyes to stare at the dark ceiling, the candles around you flickering and creating a show of light that you watched for a moment.

What if you didn’t find her?

You shook your head, sinking down far enough that the water now covered your nose. Not finding Kate wasn’t an option. You would find her, and the two of you would spend your summer nights eating ice cream and talking about boys once again. You couldn’t give up on that hope.

You blew air out of your nose, watching as it bubbled to the surface. Heaving a sigh, you planted your hands on the side of the tub, lifting yourself up out of the water. Drops cascaded down your body, and you turned to look in the mirror that was placed off to the side.

You were leaner than you had been this time last year, fat giving way to muscle from the long miles of your journey cross country. It had been a while since you had really looked at yourself or given your appearance much thought, and you found yourself missing the softness your body once had. You had hardened in other ways too, the litany of scars scattered across your body a testament to the roughness of the road you traveled the past year and a half.

The early days had not been easy for you, often having to cut your days short from how unused to the physical exertion you were currently undergoing. Your muscles had ached and screamed at you, begging you to take longer breaks, but you had pushed through until your body had finally given out.

That had been in the early, early days before you had found Mars, and you had camped out in an abandoned house for a couple of days, barely able to walk the couple of feet to relieve yourself and cook up some food. You had trekked on once you recovered enough to walk without too much issue again, and slowly the journey had become easier for you. Your clothes had begun to grow looser on you, and eventually you had stopped at an old department store to find some new ones. To this day, it till felt wrong to take what you needed without payment, walking out of the stores without leaving money behind though there was no one there to reprimand you.

You turned away from the mirror, mind wandering to how you would go about finding something to barter with for more supplies. You wondered if Tyler had a rifle or bow and arrow lying around that you could use to hunt. You’d be surprised if he didn’t given how prevalent the act of hunting was even before the world had gone to shit. You made a mental note to ask him.

You had never been a big hunter growing up, preferring to handle the animals on the farm and leaving the hunting to your cousins. You knew the basics, of course, having grown up in the rural Midwest, but it had still taken you some time to get the hang of it again once you were out on the road. You supposed you could trade some of the trinkets you had come across in Branson if you really needed to.

The towel was surprisingly soft against your skin, and for a moment you allowed yourself to think that you were back home in your apartment in New York, drying off after a long day at work and Kate already on her way home with food for the both of you.

Mars let out a quiet woof that snapped you out of your daydream, and you hurriedly finished wiping yourself down before slipping on the t-shirt and boxer combo that Tyler had left you. You hung the towel up on the rack before quietly opening the door to the hallway, peering out from behind the door.

Light still flickered from the lanterns, casting shadows along the wall. Mars laid in front of the door, ears on alert as he stared down the hall. You opened the door a little wider to poke your head out, startling as a figure emerged from down the hall and letting out a quiet yelp.

“Jesus!” Tyler exclaimed, putting a hand up as the other gripped his chest, a look of surprise on his handsome face. It took him a moment before he realized that he was looking at you, instantly relaxing as he drew closer.

“You scared me,” you scowled, wrapping your arms around yourself. The corners of his mouth twitched into a threat of a smile, only stopping as your scowl turned into a full on glare.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, hands in his pockets. “Didn’t mean to. I was just getting the guest room ready for you.”

Your eyes peeled away to look down the hall at the door he had just appeared out of. Your irritation melted away almost instantly.

“Oh,” you murmured, shifting on your feet. “Um, thank you.”

“No problem,” he nodded. “I’ll warn you, though. It’s a little musty. Haven’t really had a reason to use it in a while, you know?”

“I suppose not,” you agreed.

The two of you stood in awkward silence, unsure of what to say to one another. It wasn’t until Mars let out a hefty sigh at your feet that either of you moved. Tyler let out a cough before giving you a sheepish smile, looking at you from beneath his long lashes.

“You must be tired,” he offered. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, stepping out of the doorway and into the hall.

“I’ll, uh,” he grunted, waving off down the hall, “I’ll get everything close up. If you need me, my door is just across the hall from yours.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, nodding and pursing your lips as the silence threatened to slip into unbearable awkwardness once more. Tyler studied you for a moment more before turning and walking down the hall, his silhouette fading into the inky black as he began to put out the lights. You lingered a second more before padding down the hall, Mars at your heel.

The door closed with a click as you pressed your forehead against the cool wood before heaving out a sigh and turning around. Tyler had left a lantern lit for you, giving off a warm, orange glow to the dated looking decor. He was right, there was a slight musty smell to the room, but you were in no position to complain. It was obvious he tried to keep the place clean, probably more out of habit than for being prepared to have any guests in the house. You wandered further into the room, taking in the floral comforter that laid on the bed, already sweating at the thought of being cocooned in the fabric with no air conditioning. You stripped the bed of the thick layer, reluctantly keeping the thin sheet on the bed. You had never been able to sleep without something covering you, no matter how hot it got.

You paused as you heard the floor creak out in the hall, a pause outside your door. You waited with bated breath before Tyler moved again, the sound of his own door closing across the hall. You doubted the man would try anything, even so, you placed your hatchet on the nightstand, slowly sitting on the edge of the mattress.

The sigh left your lips before you could stop it, the soft bed beckoning you to lay down and get some much needed rest. You’d only walked one day between Beaver Lake and Branson, but still your body was weary from the day’s heat. Mars hopped up on the bed with a wag of his tail, nose nudging you as you lifted your feet and drew the thin sheet over you. You leaned up to blow the lantern out, washing the room in darkness, only the moonlight filtering in through the curtains on the far side of the wall. Your eyes closed as soon as your head hit the pillow, plans for the next day filtering through your head until quickly and all at once, your mind drifted into unconsciousness.

A/N: I’m so tired, y’all….

Mars let out a deep sigh at your side, shuffling closer to you, and you knew you didn’t have long to put off the inevitable. You let out a sigh of your own coupled with a reluctant grumble as you slowly pried your eyes open, rolling over onto your back. The room was much the same as it had been last night, though you could see the details more clearly now.

The thick comforter still lay on the floor in a heap, the intricate flowers more visible in the morning light, and you realized that the fabric must have been hand sewn rather than manufactured. You frowned at the thought, feeling bad that you had just tossed it onto the floor when so much time and care had been put in to create the piece. Mars let out a soft whine, nuzzling you with his nose as he peered up at you.

“Yeah, I know,” you grimaced, forcing yourself to sit up. The thin sheet draped over your lap as you rested your head in your hands for a moment, willing yourself to get up. It wasn’t often you got the chance to sleep in a place as nice as this. You were usually relegated to sleeping in a long abandoned home when you did manage to find shelter in a community — the smell of dust and stale water permeating your senses, though you supposed it was always a step up from sleeping on the hard ground of the outdoors or the completely dilapidated and molded homes you’d come across on your travels.

Slowly, quietly, you eased your way into standing, cautious of the creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. You paused after a shift of your feet caused the floor to let out a particularly loud protest, cursing under your breath as you listened for the sound of stirring beyond the door to your room.

You know you had been invited to spend the night, but you didn’t want to make a habit of overstaying your welcome. It wasn’t often that people invited you into their actual home, strangers wary of strangers. Not that you blamed them, not really. Not after everything that’s happened.

The Exodus Virus tended to affect its victims quickly, symptoms showing within a few days of exposure. However, it was quickly discovered that a rare, unlucky few tended to linger—symptoms remaining dormant for weeks and infecting more before symptoms ever alert the carrier to its existence.

Very few people wanted to risk their lives to house a stranger in their homes.

Which is why it was so odd that this man—Tyler—had been so quick to invite you into his. You frowned at the thought. What possible motive could he have for opening his home to you? You cursed yourself for not thinking that far ahead, but you had had few options last night as the sun had dipped below the horizon. You would need to do some hunting or fishing today to get supplies. You were running short on things to trade, and you wondered if there were any houses nearby that had gone relatively untouched.

Mars let out another whine that pulled you from your thoughts, and your head snapped towards him as you realized how tense you had become in those few seconds. You forced your jaw to relax, rolling your shoulders as you slowly approached the door. Your fingers wrapped around the golden knob, twisting it slowly as you pulled the door open a crack, peeking out into the hall.

The shadows of the evening still clung to the air as the sun slowly crept along the floor, dust particles dancing in the golden rays as your eyes swept over what little you could see. Your ears strained, listening for any sign of life within the old house. You could hear the faint clanging and clattering of what sounded like dishes coming from the left side of the hall leading out into the living room.

Slowly, you inched the door open, Mars coming up beside you as his tail swished back and forth at the prospect of being let out of the confines of the room. Hitching a breath, you pulled the door back far enough for him to slip out in front of you, a quiet huff leaving him. You arched a brow down at him, shaking your head as he side eyed you with another small swish of his tail. You eased your way out of the door, eyes darting down the hall where the sounds of the cookware and a deep timber muttering to himself could be heard.

You padded along the wooden floors towards the bathroom, Mars cocking his head as you looked back at him.

“Well?” You asked in a whisper, head jerking and arms gesturing towards the open door. “You comin’?”

Mars let out a tired sigh before easing his way onto the ornate carpet. You rolled your eyes before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you with a click. It was still strange to you to be in a clean bathroom, a luxury you used to take for granted. The before times felt like they had happened eons ago, and it always struck you as odd the things your mind chose to feel nostalgic about.

You relieved yourself quickly, nearly jumping at the sound of the water escaping the porcelain. Indoor plumbing was something you missed dearly, and you felt an odd clench in your chest as you washed your hands at the sink, allowing yourself a couple of extra seconds to bask in the running water. Sweat gathered at the back of your neck, the humidity in the air only thickened by the growing heat. God, you missed air conditioning.

Reluctantly, you twisted the faucet off, gripping the edges of the sink to steel yourself for the coming encounter. You pushed away from it, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it before you could talk yourself into hiding in the bathroom all day. No, better to rip the bandaid off now.

The smell of food hit you instantly, your stomach growling at the prospect of another meal. You practically purred as you inhaled, your mouth salivating as Mars’s tail wagged where he still lay on the carpet. His dark eyes looked up at you hopefully and you jerked your head down toward the hall.

“Come on, then,” you mumbled at him, stepping over him and towards the living room. He scrambled to follow you eagerly, immediately skirting around you to stand by the door. The sun was well above the horizon now, and you could hear the sizzling of food in the pan as Tyler’s broad back bobbed around the kitchen. At the sound of Mars’s whine, he turned around, jumping slightly.

“Hey!” He greeted, a smile on his face as he turned to look at you. A pair of grey sweatpants hung low on his waist, the top of his boxers peeking out. An apron covered his bare chest, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you looked away.

“Didn’t hear you come out,” he continued, turning back towards the gas stove. “Breakfast will be ready here in a second if you wanna let him out.”

You didn’t say anything in response, simply pressing your lips together in an attempt at a smile, though you were fairly sure it came across as more of a grimace. You opened the door to let Mars out into the front yard, your eyes scanning the area as he pushed past you. He chased after a squirrel, barking as it ran up the nearest tree, and for a moment you were struck with awe at how domestic the moment seemed.

Several people walked along the road, an old pickup speeding off down the street. Curious looks were cast your way, whispers exchanged about your unfamiliar face. You hugged yourself tightly, feeling exposed. You weren’t sure which you hated more—the hostile glares of some communities, or the incessant questions that came from communities like this.

You supposed you couldn’t blame them. If a stranger appeared in your community during the end of the world, you would have some questions too. You’d never been good with the spotlight, though. That was something both you and Kate shared, and a part of you wondered how she would handle being in your shoes right now.

Kate was the stronger of the two of you, she always had been. Where you were quiet and introspective, she was charming and assertive. She had a way of relating to others easily, relating to them in a way you never could.

You closed your eyes, basking in the warm rays of the sun that breached the top of the trees. A small breeze enveloped you, cooling the layer of sweat on your skin as you let out a long sigh. The summer season wouldn’t last long, and you needed to barter for some more supplies before leaving LaRue. You were nervous about where you would end up by the time winter hit. You had been lucky this past year, making it down near the Key West of Florida and waiting out the harsher months before moving on.

Florida had been kind to you, the inhabitants down in the area surprisingly helpful and laid back. They had set you up in your own home for those few months, far enough inland that you wouldn’t have to worry about the erosion near the beach. The scenery was picturesque, and a part of you had been reluctant to leave until the heat had settled in.

Mars trotted happily up to you, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted, eyes wandering around idly as he waited for you to let him back into the house. You braced yourself for the next encounter, pushing into the house once more.

Tyler had opened a few windows in the few minutes you had stepped outside, allowing the breeze from outside to flow through the house. Tyler was at the counter scraping the eggs on to three different plates. Mars made his way to the kitchen with an eager wag of his tail, ears perked as he sniffed the air. Tyler chuckled, taking one of the plates and setting it on the ground for the copper haired mutt.

“There you go, boy,” Tyler grunted, reaching over to scratch between the dog’s ears. Mars let out a snort, giving a quick sniff to both the food and hand before scarfing the food down. Tyler let out a low chuckle, straightening back up to face you.

“Ours is ready too,” he smiled, though it seemed more unnerved when directed towards you. Your lips parted in shock as he slid one of the remaining plates closer to you. You shuffled forward awkwardly, cursing yourself for how stiffly you moved. You sat at one of the stools along the counter, shifting into a more comfortable position as Tyler offered you a fork. You took it with a muttered thanks, embarrassment clawing at the back of your neck as he tried to offer you another smile, this one coming off a little more forced.

A frown tugged on your lips before you schooled your features into neutrality. You weren’t sure what to say as you took a small, tentative bite of the eggs. You let out a contented sigh as they washed over your tongue, the taste almost foreign in comparison to the nuts and jerky you rationed out while on the road. Your stomach gurgled, and heat found its way to your cheeks once more as you shifted in your seat.

“Any good?” Tyler asked, tone teasing as an easy smirk quirked on his lips. You glanced at him, nodding quickly as you took another, larger bite.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he grinned, scraping at his own plate. “I wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs, but I figured scrambled was a safe bet. And, everyone likes bacon, right?”

You didn’t respond. Conversation wasn’t exactly foreign to you, but you weren’t used to the easy conversations Tyler seemed intent on having. Most exchanges you had those days were brief back and forth trades of information, but Tyler didn’t seem to want any of that upon first glance. You studied him for a moment, the way he seemed so at ease. As if he was used to having company in his home.

“It’s nice to have someone around for a change,” he offered, as if somehow reading your mind. He seemed to mull over his next words. “You know about my aunt, but I had friends who grew up around here too.”

A beat of silence passed.

“I miss them a lot, you know,” he continued, a sad smile twisted on his lips as he moved the eggs around on his plate. His eyes seemed far away, as if he was reliving better times. “We used to go out on the road for about half the year chasing any storm we could find. We’d rig up our trucks and vans to go out and do some crazy shit, laughing the whole time...”

He trailed off, pursing his lips and clearing his throat as he shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. You watched him for another moment, the grief that rolled off of him all too familiar to you.

“What happened to them?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. Of course, you had a fairly reasonable idea as to what fate befell his friends, but you also knew that sometimes it was cathartic to speak it out loud.

Tyler met your gaze, chewing on his cheek before answering. “Lot of’em got wasted by the damn disease, buried in the cemetery just outside of town. Boone left not too long into it all to go take care of his grandparents out in Nevada, and I only heard from him a handful of times before the cell towers and everything went dead. Dani and Lily migrated down towards Dallas after everything went dark. Thought there’d be a better chance in a bigger city, and I’ve got no idea if they even made it.”

“There’s a large community of survivors down there, I’ve heard,” you said, looking down at your plate. “Haven’t made it to Texas yet, but I’m headed down that way. It’s possible they’re down there in that community.”

Tyler didn’t respond, and after a moment’s silence, you chanced a glance back up at him. His face was unreadable, green eyes studying you so intensely that you shifted in your seat and focused back on the food in front of you.

“When?”

Your eyes darted back up once more, confusion knitting your brows. “When what?”

“When do you think you’ll be heading out?”

You blinked at him. You had planned on leaving as soon as possible, not wanting to overstay your welcome in a given community, and especially not wanting to take advantage of Tyler’s kindness so far. But, of course he would be wanting his house back soon, the oddity of having a complete stranger staying in your house must be unsettling.

“I was hoping to leave in the next day or two,” you shrugged. “I need to barter for some supplies, but it shouldn’t take me too long to get some fish or squirrels I can trade.”

You had some more valuable pieces in your pack, but you would keep your lips sealed about those. You didn’t want to chance the possibility of someone stealing them or trying to needle you into bartering. No, you would save those pieces for the bigger communities—the places with more to offer in terms of supplies. Some fish or a squirrel could get you some new clothes at the very least. You looked down at your attire, having forgotten you were wearing a borrowed outfit from the man who stood across from you.

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat as a light shade of pink dusted his cheeks. “Cathy came by with some clothes for you. Said they’re a bit out of fashion, but they should hold up just fine for you. I put them in your room when you stepped out.”

Your eyes widened in surprised. The small act of kindness was unexpected, but not unwelcome or unappreciated. You made a mental note to repay her in some way before you departed, and an ache tugged at your heart so hard that it nearly knocked the wind out of you. Tyler studied you once more as he rested his hands on the counter, a faint smile on his lips as you finished the last bite of bacon.

“You’re not used to kindness, are you?” He asked finally, arching a brow in your direction. You made a noise in your throat, avoiding his gaze as you looked down at Mars, the mutt resting his chin on your knee as he licked his chops. You shrugged as you scratched behind the dog’s ears, shoulders sagging slightly.

“You don’t really see a whole lot of it anymore,” you murmured, slipping off the stool and padding down the hall.

A/N: And we're back at it again, folks. Please interact with me, I get bored shouting into the void.

You closed your eyes against the blinding sun, reaching blindly for the water bottle you kept tucked away in your backpack. You frowned at how light the canister felt in your hands, the sloshing of the liquid within causing you to sigh. You were running low again, and you couldn’t be sure as to the safety of the water in this area. Hopefully, you’d run across an abandoned house or survivor community soon. Judging by the map, you weren’t too far from Lake Beaver. You had seen the “Welcome to Arkansas” sign only a couple hours prior, so it would make sense that you were closing in on the large body of water at this point.

The thought of soaking in the cool, lake water nearly made you sigh in relief. You hated the heat—always had. Of course, you grew up in one of the hottest areas of the country, the AC often giving out in those early years until your father finally broke down and bought a new one. You’d sit in front of that window unit for hours, just enjoying the cold air until your mother harped at you for blocking the cool air from getting to the rest of the house.

Rustling to your left pulled you from your thoughts, your head jerking forward as your eyes snapped open. You reached back to pull the hatchet out from the confines of your pack, body tensing as you crouched into a ready position. It wasn’t often that you encountered a snapper during the daylight hours, but it had happened enough that you knew you couldn’t take the chance.

The sound of a twig snapped, and you braced yourself, drawing your arm back to strike when a figure bounded forward.

You let out a startled gasp, eyes wide as your brain processed what was happening. The dog was a large, mixed breed, shaggy red fur and facial features indicating it was mixed with golden retriever and something else that you couldn’t quite place. Big, brown eyes stared up at you as it trotted forward, tail wagging excitedly as it stopped to sniff at your feet.

You let the hatchet drop to your side, a scowl on your face as placed a hand on your hip.

“Dammit, Mars,” you groused, crouching down so that you were eye level with the mutt. His tail wagged faster at the mention of his name, stepping forward and relishing in the touch you were giving him as you scratched behind his ear.

“You nearly died just then, you know,” you admonished, but Mars paid you no mind, head jerking to the side as something caught his attention. Probably a squirrel.

“What were you up to, anyway?” You asked, standing straight as the dog trotted off with his nose to the ground. You watched after him for a moment, wondering how he managed to keep up so much energy amidst the miserable heat. With a shake of your head, you put your items away before pushing off of the tree trunk.

You’d heard mention of a survivor community around those parts, the folks up near the outskirts of Springfield and Branson assuring you that you’d find folks down this way who would aid you on your journey.

It had been a year and a half since you left New York, if you had to guess. You had trekked down along the eastern seaboard, stopping at the different communities you could find along the way. Most welcomed you in, offering you food and a place to stay, others wanted an exchange of some kind, and you found that you were surprisingly adept at hunting. Still, there was the occasional community that didn’t welcome you at all, rather chasing you out of the area and back onto the road.

The locals up in Missouri had assuaged your fears, however, assuring you that the folks of Beaver Lake would welcome you just as they had.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you whistled for Mars, the mutt perking up before bounding back towards you.

“Let’s hoof it,” you told him, readjusting the strap on your pack. “I want to get there before nightfall.”

You came upon the water maybe an hour later, the promise of cool relief nearly tempting you to stop and enjoy it. You eyed the horizon, the sun slowly inching downwards, and you let out a longing sigh as you forced yourself to continue. You stuck by the edge of the water, sure that the survivors would stick near the fresh body of water. You saw the splash of fish, making a mental note to try your hand at fishing before you left. If you caught enough, you could use them to barter for other goods or use them as a repayment for hospitality. The folks in Missouri had been kind, refusing to barter, but there was no telling what the people of Beaver Lake would want.

The sun sunk lower and lower past the trees, and a coolness began to creep into the air. You still had about an hour or two of light, if you had to guess, and you were hoping you’d come across the settlement sooner rather than later. You’d spent many nights out in the new wilderness by yourself, and while it wasn’t ideal, you knew you could hold your own against a snapper or two. But, there’d been once or twice when you’d caught sight of a large grouping of them, creeping along the ground as you sat in an abandoned home or up in the branches of a tree. They never bothered with Mars, much, the snap of his teeth enough to deter the wayward snapper if they did happen across his hiding spot.

The sound of a motor caught your attention, Mars’ ears perking alongside you. Your head snapped towards the water, watching as a small motorboat made its way towards the dock just a little ways ahead of you. You saw two figures on the boat, one steering and the other looking out over the edge towards where you stood.

As the boat drew closer, you began walking once more, albeit faster this time and with Mars hot on your tail.

The boat docked as you trotted up onto the wood of the platform, your steps echoing as you approached.

“Ain’t ever seen you ‘round these parts,” one of the men said as his companion tied the boat to a post. “Wasn’t sure if you was snapper or friend.”

“Friend, I hope,” you offered smoothly, earning a grunt from the same man. The other finished tying his knot, standing straight to look at you. Both men were older, perhaps somewhere in their late forties or early fifties with graying hair and weathered faces. The man who spoke to you had clear, blue eyes that assessed you with curiosity, the man next to him watched you with caution in his dark eyes.

The first man brought a hand up to scratch his bearded chin thoughtfully.

“You the one then?” He asked gruffly, eyes drifting down to watch Mars seated next to you. “The one my buddy up in Cassville radioed me about? What’s it they call you? The Wanderer?”

You held back a scowl at the mention of the moniker you had earned on your travels. No one traveled as far as you did, if they did at all. The only ones that moved outside of the communities these days were those running supplies to and fro.

“I’d rather you didn’t call me that, actually,” you told them, supplying them with your name instead. The man repeated it, mulling it over before nodding slowly.

“Alright then, little miss. I suppose you’ll be wanting a place to stay then, hm?” He asked. His friend stepped past him and onto the dock, grabbing a box that jangled with its contents before walking down the dock and towards a shack that lay past the water’s edge.

“It’d be nice,” you agreed, watching as he grabbed a box of his own to carry towards the shack. “I don’t have much to barter with at the moment, though.”

“Well, we can worry about all that later. How’s about you grab a box or two and help us unload? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can head back to LaRue and get you settled.”

You followed suit, grabbing a box that was much heavier than it looked and catching yourself before you stumbled back into the water. You fell into an easy rhythm between the blue-eyed man—Bill as you would later learn his name was—and Les.

About a half hour later, the boat was fully unloaded, and you sat on the back bench across from Bill as Les prepared the boat for departure. The sun sank lower towards the horizon now, level with the surrounding treeline. You bounced your leg in a nervous habit that you had never quite been able to shake, only stopping when you caught Bill watching you.

“You nervous?” He asked finally. In the short time you had known the two men, it was clear that Bill was the talker.

You shrugged, pressing your lips together and picking at the skin around your fingernails—another bad habit you had yet to break.

“Y’ain’t got nothin’ to be nervous about,” he assured you, leaning forward on his knee. “You’re somethin’ of a legend, you know. Folks around LaRue have been itchin’ to see if you’d make it this way. The young ones ‘specially’ll be all up and over you when we get there, I reckon.”

You always felt a little embarrassed whenever your newfound celebrity status was brought up to you. You didn’t consider yourself famous in the slightest, and quite frankly you were surprised there weren’t more people like you out and looking for their loved ones. You supposed, though, that making a trip cross country on foot was an asinine idea in this world—especially with the snappers posing a looming threat on all those caught unawares. You’d had a couple of close calls to be sure, a snapper sneaking up on you in the Appalachian mountains had come the closest to doing some permanent damage.

It had been snowing that day, and you’d cut it close with finding some kind of shelter. The sun had just disappeared below the horizon, and Mars had still been small enough to fit in your backpack. Your breaths came out in clouded puffs, your legs shaking with exertion when you stumbled upon the tiny cabin. A relieved sigh had left your lips, but you stopped when you saw a figure standing along the treeline past the dilapidated sanctuary.

The figure’s movements had been jerky, their body contorting oddly, and your adrenaline began to spike at the danger you found yourself suddenly in. Your eyes darted toward the cabin. All you had to do was make it the fifteen or so yards to the front door. If you could do that, you could lock yourself inside and barricade the entrance until morning. Slowly, you inched your way towards the door, careful to not make a sound that would alert the snapper to your presence. You had seen one once not too long before—its teeth digging into the flesh of a deer, human hands clawing at the skin of the dead animal as it tried desperately to satisfy the hunger it would never sate. The sight of the blood dripping down its pale skin would haunt you forever.

You remembered the zombie movies Kate used to drag you to. You had never been a fan, finding the creatures boring rather than scary. It wasn’t that the snappers looked like zombies because they didn’t, really. No, they still looked horrifyingly human—they were still human somewhere deep down. The disease attacked the nervous system, yes, but it also prevented the hosts from absorbing the necessary nutrients from food, causing them to look gaunt and weak. They were strong though, despite their appearance. The waif-like beings haunted your dreams, waking you from a dead sleep on more than one occasion. The howls and shrieks as they roamed the outdoors under the night sky sent a wave of fear up your spine no matter how often you heard them.

Slowly, you had crept along the clearing, eyes never drifting far from the snapper in front of you. Your ears remained alert as you listened for any sign of a companion. While snappers tended to move singularly, it wasn’t unheard of for them to travel in pairs or even packs on the rare occasion. You were about halfway to the door when Mars began to squirm in your pack, and your heart skipped a beat at the movement. Praying that he remained quiet enough for you to reach safety, you picked up your pace. You made it three feet before a twig snapped under your heel, a silent curse on your lips as the snapper’s head jerked up towards you. You could see it—her—more clearly now. Matted, brown hair framed her ghostly, white face, eyes glazed over in white stared back at you as her shoulders jerked violently. Your eyes darted around you, looking for something to defend yourself with should you need it. They landed on an abandoned hatchet next to a rotted out tree trunk before back up at her.

Just as you thought she would turn away, Mars let out a small bark from behind you, and your heart sank to your stomach. The snapper’s face contorted into blind rage, her teeth bared as she launched herself in your direction. You dove for the hatchet, gripping it in your fingers. You hadn’t anticipated her speed, having had just enough time to shrug off your pack, but as you stood straight once more, she was already on you, knocking you to the ground. You grunted as the air left your lungs, and you struggled violently against her, Mars barking in the background. The snapper snarled at you, foam dripping from her mouth as she snapped at you, her teeth clacking in an echo that sent ice through your veins. You held the hatchet between the two of you, the tool acting as a barrier as you scrambled to gain purchase. Your feet kicked against the ground and the snapper’s legs until finally you were able to plant them firmly into the cold ground beneath you. With all your strength, you pushed the snapper off of you and to the side, scrambling to your feet in the confusion.

She was on her feet a second later, long fingernails slashing at you as you dodged them. Your heart hammered in your chest, survival instincts driving you. You swung blindly at her with the hatchet, desperate cries coming from your lips as you fought for life. Her glazed eyes watched you tauntingly, saliva dripping down her chin and neck as she gnashed her teeth once more at you. Mars still barked and whined behind you, and you took a deep breath to try and ready yourself. Your eyes squeezed shut just as you swung the hatchet again, pleading with whatever god or gods were listening to you in that moment.

A sickening thwack sounded, the snapper’s screeching cutting short, and slowly you opened your eyes. To your shock and horror, the hatchet was buried halfway through the snapper’s neck—bright, red blood trickling out from around the blade. You stared in horror as the snapper clawed at her neck, desperate whimpers gurgling out of her mouth. You let go of the hatchet, stumbling back as the trickle of blood became a steady flow, staining the clothes she still wore as she stumbled towards you. She only made it a step or two before collapsing to the ground with a thud, her hands still clawing at the gaping hole before finally she stilled.

The clearing was silent, save for Mars’ quiet whimpering and the sound of your heart still thundering away in your chest. The snow continued to fall, careless of what had just transpired, and it wasn’t until a gust of wind whipped around you that you realized you were crying. The shock of the cold broke you from your spell, and after wiping your cheeks, you walked back over to your backpack. You checked Mars to make sure he was okay, earning a few licks to your cheek as you hoisted the pack back over your shoulders. You paused, contemplating before turning back around. Your hand gripped the handle of the hatchet, pulling until the blade let go of the snapper’s flesh with a sickening squelch.

LaRue was a small community, and by the looks of it, it had been even before the outbreak. Les stopped the boat at one of the docks in the marina, making quick work of tying it to one of the posts.

“Larue and Bland merged after everything went down,” Bill explained as he led you toward the street. “They used to be two different communities, you know. But folks came together to survive.”

Mars sniffed the ground as you walked, watching as people walked to and fro. Some caught sight of you, and before long, people were looking at you everywhere you went.

“Cathy’s place isn’t too far now,” Bill told you, waving as you passed a group of older people, there eyes trained on you curiously as they returned the gesture. “She’ll fix you up and get you settled, don’t you worry.”

You were beginning to feel anxious from all of the attention, eyes darting around as you began picking at your fingers once more. You saw a group of what looked like teenagers whispering to each other, their fingers pointing at you as they chattered excitedly. You stiffened slightly, increasing your pace so that you stood side by side with Bill. He led you a little further down the street before veering right towards an old, brick building. A sign that read “Cathy’s Place” hung above the door, and a bell rang as he pushed the door in. The room was spacious, hardwood floors spanning all the way to the back as different tables took up space and a couple of booths lined the walls. A bar was arranged in the middle, several men and women gathered around it, conversation lulling as the two of you stepped in. Mars stuck close to you, ears perking at the different sounds around him.

You followed Bill towards the back, ever mindful of the watchful eyes that followed you, and you were sure you looked worse for wear. You had showered in Branson, but the long day of trekking had left you sweaty and caked in dirt.

Bill plopped himself down at a table, leaning back in his chair with a tired groan as his joints popped. You slowly sat down across from him, careful to take in your surroundings without making eye contact with anyone there. You weren’t sure how long you’d be staying, but you didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You turned to see an older woman with graying, blonde hair stroll up to your table. Her jeans were worn, and a green apron was wrapped around her waist. She smirked down at the man across from you, hands on her hips as she took him in, eyes glancing at you for one curious moment.

“Heya, Cathy,” Bill greeted, hands resting on the top of the wooden table.

“Heya, Cathy,” she mocked with a cluck of her tongue. “Cutting it a little close to nightfall today, aintcha?”

“S’pose,” Bill agreed with a nod, a twinkle shining in his eyes. “Les and I had a lot to move around today.”

Cathy hummed disapprovingly before glancing at you once more. “Gonna introduce me to your friend here?”

“Cathy,” he grinned, gesturing across the table at you. “This here is the wanderer.”

All conversation stopped at the mention of your moniker, and you bristled at the sudden lack of noise. A couple of seconds passed before the whispers started, and you shot a scowl at Bill.

“I’d rather you called me by my name,” you groused, giving it to the hostess. She nodded.

“Heard a lot about you,” she said. “Heard you’re headed west.”

“I am,” you confirmed. Before Cathy could continue her questioning, your stomach let out a loud growl, your hunger suddenly catching up with you.

“How’s some chicken fried steak sound, sugar?” The older woman asked. “An old family recipe.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had beef,” you muttered, your mouth watering at the thought. Cathy let out a chuckle at your unwilling eagerness.

“Lucky for you, we just traded for some the other day,” she smiled. “I’ll get you some water and something for your little friend here while I’m at it.”

She grinned down at Mars who wagged his tail excitedly at the sudden attention.

“I’ll pay you back,” you promised her, resting a hand on Mars’ head. Cathy opened her mouth to respond, but stopped as the chair between you and Bill was pulled out with a scrape against the floor.

“You can put it on my tab, Cathy.”

You turned to see a tall, blond man sit down in the seat, a wide grin on his face as he looked at you. He was handsome, some scruff littering his jaw and green eyes twinkling in delight.

Cathy rolled her eyes, but turned to walk back towards the kitchen. Your cheeks warmed at the attention from the man next to you, and Bill cleared his throat.

“Tyler,” he greeted, though it sounded more like a warning than a friendly acknowledgment.

“Evenin’, Bill,” Tyler nodded, his eyes never leaving you. “Knew you’d bring back something interestin’ one day.”

You stared at him, keeping your features schooled as you met his gaze. Tyler continued to study you in silence, the corners of his lips twitching into a wider smirk as if he liked what he saw. The two of you never broke eye contact, even as Cathy came back with water for your table, dipping down to lay a dish on the floor for Mars. The dog lapped up the water happily, tail wagging all the while.

You arched a brow in challenge to the newcomer, daring him to say something else. He only smiled at you, leaning back in his chair with a tap to the tabletop.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” muttered Bill, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you let us eat in peace, kid?”

Tyler’s eyes finally left you, looking over at the grumpy, older man.

“It’s not everyday we get a celebrity in these parts, Bill,” he drawled. “Especially not one with an interesting story, wouldn’t you say?”

Bill scowled at the blond, tearing his eyes away as Cathy came back with three plates, once more setting them down in front of you, Bill, and Mars.

“Mars, sit,” you commanded, and the dog obeyed, wolfing down the chicken Cathy brought out for him.

“‘S a good-looking dog you got there,” Tyler commented, nodding over towards Mars.

“Thanks,” you said, cutting into your own food. You nearly moaned at the taste. It wasn’t often you got a cooked meal, even rarer that you got them on back-to-back nights.

“They not feed you up in Branson?” Bill teased in a chuckle.

“They did,” you assured him. “Just been a while since I had a good country fried steak.”

“You staying long?” Tyler asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. You offered him a shrug, unsure of how to answer. It would be better if you left sooner rather than later.

“Not sure yet,” you amended. “Haven’t made much progress in the last week or so. I’ll need to take stock of my supplies.”

“Suppose you’ll need more bullets for the road,” he agreed with a nod. You scrunched your nose up and shook your head.

“Guns are too noisy,” you told him, your exhaustion making you chattier than usual. “They attract snappers more than deter them. No, I keep a hatchet with me. It’s lightweight, but it gets the job done. Can use it for more too.”

Tyler let out a quiet laugh, a grin plastered on his face as he sat back once more.

“A hatchet,” he breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, look at you.”

“I hate to rush y’all,” Cathy said, walking over with her hands in her pockets, “but the sun is setting any minute, and you know they don’t keep those lights on for long. I’ll need to get closing up here in a second.”

Bill nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, alright. You wanna get her a box, and we’ll get it sorted out where she’s stayin’ tonight?”

“She can always stay with me,” she hollered as she moved back to grab you a box for your half eaten steak.

“Y’ain’t got no room, woman!” Bill guffawed, patting his stomach. “You got four kids and all o’ their kids livin’ under your roof. Where’s she gonna sleep? The roof?”

Cathy scowled at him as she handed you the box.

“Well, she ain’t gonna stay in that shack you try to pass off as a house,” she snapped.

“She can stay with me.”

All three of your heads snapped to look at Tyler, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Ain’t no way-” Bill began, but Tyler cut him off.

“Everybody else has already booked it back home,” he pointed out with a serious look, and for the first time you noticed that it was just the four of you in the room. How had you missed that?

“Besides,” he continued, his smirk crawling back into place. “I’ve got the room and I don’t live that far from here. You can come and check on her first thing in the morning.”

The room was silent, and you allowed yourself to glance between everyone. Cathy pursed her lips, but didn’t refute him. Bill didn’t look happy about it, but he finally sighed.

“Yeah, alright,” he groused. “But, honey? He tries anythin’ funny, and you got my permission to chop a couple of those fingers off, you hear?”

A/N: Ruthie made me post this now lol

When news of a new virus began to spread, those that carried on with worry were ridiculed and called paranoid. Even when the first death was reported, most people didn’t take it seriously.

“It’s just another scare tactic,” you had heard one of your neighbors scoff one afternoon as you stopped to get your mail.

“Just like with Covid. It’s just to get us to fall in line, you’ll see!” The older man had insisted. You had fought back a smile at the time, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. You hadn’t laughed since.

The scientific community had dubbed it the Exodus Virus, but formal studies had shown that it was some type of rabies virus, attacking the nervous system and ultimately leading to death. Few were lucky enough to survive it at first, although lucky perhaps wasn’t the right word for it—not when the ramifications showed themselves preferable to death.

They were isolated incidents at first, just random acts of violence, but it wasn’t long before people started putting two and two together.

It became clear to experts that the virus created lasting damage within its hosts—causing violent mood swings, hallucinations, and aggression. It wasn’t long before the whole of social media dubbed these victims “snappers” for the way they seemed to just snap at a moment's notice.

The number of cases grew with each passing day, and it wasn’t long until your best friend, Kate, volunteered to be shipped off to where the cases were worst in the country.

“I wish you wouldn’t go,” you muttered, sitting across from the blonde on your small balcony overlooking the busy New York street below. You were a bit of a recluse at times, Kate being the one to pull you out of your shell and into the social scene most times. It wasn’t that you didn’t like being social, it was just that you were selective about who you wanted to be social with. Kate had adopted you as her best friend on the first day of kindergarten, the two of you practically inseparable since. The two of you moved to New York to pursue your education together, moving in together to afford the miserably high rent.

“It won’t be for long,” she had assured you, leaning over to grab your hand in hers. “This crisis will be over soon with all these scientists working on a cure. You just wait and see, I’ll be home before you know it!”

And a few days later she had boarded a plane to fly across the country to California. You worried after her, especially when news of a particularly large outbreak near Los Angeles made its way back to you. You had called Kate almost immediately, her reassurance doing little to calm the fear in the pit of your stomach.

“They’ve got me bouncing around all over the place right now,” she told you, a heavy sigh in her voice. You could see the bags under her eyes, much darker than before she left. Weariness radiated off of her in waves, and you felt exhausted just looking at her.

“You been sleeping okay?” You asked, earning a crooked smile in return.

“Yeah, when I can,” she offered with a wave of her hand. “This pandemic keeps us pretty busy.”

“You can’t save the world if you’re dead, Kate,” you scowled, a furrow in your brows. Her smile drooped, her lack of energy preventing her from keeping up appearances for too long.

“I’ll try and get some more rest,” she offered. “Now tell me all about the new exhibit at the museum.”

That had been the last time you spoke with her, her job keeping her too busy to keep up with phone calls. The Exodus Virus had several more outbreaks in the following weeks, and panic began to set in as the masses realized that things had turned from serious to dire. People began taking the health protocols seriously, but by then it had been too late.

The disease began to infect more and more people, the death toll skyrocketing as everyday life began to collapse all around you. As more people fell victim, the more things began to break down, and soon your phone became little more than a paperweight as things like phone calls and the internet stopped working. Soon, only those with generators were able to light up their homes, and the sky that once reflected the never ending lights of the city now shone with stars that hadn’t been seen in years.

It wasn’t unusual to find people sitting on top of the different buildings, looking up at a sky that was once so familiar to their ancestors, the cosmos staring back at faces they had never seen before. But with each passing day, those faces dwindled, and every day you wondered if you’d see your family or Kate again. Your shared friends had long since gone, and it was one random day, sitting at your small dining room table, that you decided that you had had enough of sitting and waiting for the end. You had to do something, but you weren’t sure what. All you knew is that you couldn’t stay in the all but abandoned city anymore, waiting for salvation that wouldn’t come to you on its own.

You packed a bag, making sure to pack essentials only so as to not weigh yourself down. Cars and gas were amongst the first luxuries to go in this new world, so you knew you’d be making your journey on foot most of the time. You took a map from one of the abandoned bodegas along with a sharpie. Kate had said that they kept her moving the last time you spoke with her, but you knew she was based out in California. You would aim the end of your journey there, hoping your best friend had found shelter in one of those communities you had heard some of the city stragglers muttering about. Communities built to contain the healthy—to keep them away from the snappers that now roamed the new wildlands of what had once been the United States. You didn’t know how long your journey would take, or how far it would take you. You didn’t know if you would find Kate or any of the rumored communities along the way. You didn’t know what lay ahead of you.

But you would survive.

A/N: Welp. We're back with this one.