Hi guys! It's been a while. I've been awfully busy and I haven't had much time to do any updates but don't worry I've still been writing. The story takes place near the end of the novel. It is nowhere near perfect but I hope you all enjoy. This story will also be available on Blogger and Tumblr.

After the General Grigio's rooftop suicide things went by in a blur. Colonel Rosso took us to his house, introduced us to his wife, and began to ask Julie and I many questions. How did I meet Julie? I thought that would have been obvious. How old was I? I don't know. I can't remember. Did I think I was cured and how fast did I believe the cure could be spread? Again, I don't know.

How could I be expected to know? I can't read, why on Earth would anyone expect me to hold the answers to questions that scientists have been searching for decades. I felt awkward and anxious. A couple hours ago I was corpse whose biggest expectation in life was to eat people and now I was expected to know all the answers to a quiz I never signed up to take. I was being thrust into a leadership role and I had no experience.

I could not sweat but Julie could tell I was nervous and recommended we go on a walk to finish the questioning. After leaving the Colonel's house I could not tell if being outside made the integration better or worse. People were staring at me and more than half of them were glaring. I am very tall but under their gazes, I felt like the lowest insect on Earth.

As we approached Julie Street I felt as if I could throw up.

"Hey, Mr. Zombie."

I turned and I saw the little girl from yesterday beaming at me and waving her entire arm like a kite. Her brother stood next to her smiling and struggling to hold Trina in his arms. I gave an awkward wave, afraid their mother would burst out the door and shoot me. Something was niggling in the back of my head like I had forgotten something but what. I had forgotten so many things.

"Kids," my mouth whispered. With that, the idea clicked. "MY KIDS!" I shouted straining my vocal cords.

Julie looked at me in confusion. " R, what the…"

I turned to her in panic.

"Left… my kids… at airport."

She stared at me. Anxiety began to creep into her gaze.

"We left your kids at the airport!"

I gripped my head. "No. I left them… Not your responsibility."

"Hey what about their mom. She'd protect them, right?"

I cringed. My wife typically did look after the kids but after the scene at the church, she had seemed very occupied with her new… friend.

"Might be busy."

Julie looked irritated. "Busy with what!"

Why did she have to make me say it? She was there. Couldn't she piece together what my wife could be busy with?

"With being busy," I choked out, slightly embarrassed.

Nora, Rosso, and Julie stared at me in confusion. An epiphany blossomed on Nora's face.

"Y'all can still do that?"

I looked away. "Not … effectively… Saw them… Other day."

That was the most difficult thing I have ever had to vocalize.

"Ew. Gross," Julie muttered. "Maybe your friend got them out."

I shook my head. I had not seen them with M when we got me through the gate.

"We'll go check on them later. I'm sure they're fine, R. They seemed pretty tough."

I shrugged, uncomfortable but not seeing the point in arguing. It would be dangerous to rush into a Dead invested airport just to check on my kids.

"So, R, you have kids? And a wife…" Nora asked, narrowing her eyes at me. Her eyes seemed to ask what this meant.

"Not exactly."

She parroted my words back to me. Julie hit her on the back of the head.

"The Bonies placed them together with two kids. Infected children don't have the same instincts as the adults. Also, she cheated on him first so I'd say it's fair."

Nora hummed critically and then smirked.

"It seems your the other woman now Jules."

Julie protested but she was trying not to laugh. I squirmed and glanced at General Russo. His face held no expression. It seems I cannot keep myself out of trouble for even a few short hours. Perhaps embarrassing myself into a second death is to be my compensate for all the people I've eaten, or at least part of it.

My leg was being tugged on. I looked down and I saw the girl.

"Can we play with your kids Mr. Zombie?"

Visions of my kids tearing into these Living children zoomed past my eyes. The children's mother breaking down the door and firing a round of bullets at the children's heads before leveling her gun at me, screaming.

Hesitantly, I patted the girl on the head.

"Ask… your mother."

The girl ran back to her brother and waved goodbye. I hoped her mother said no. I am tired. How surprising and unsurprising that sentence is. I hope this integration gets over soon. I'm nervous I will say something else embarrassing or far worse, incriminating.