Five Years Later - August 2018

The sun was unrelenting and the air was thick as soup. Not surprising. Just another day on the road. I tried to remember that the rising temperature and humidity meant I was getting close. I had to be.

I'd had the map held in my mind for years now, the one that was too dangerous for physical copies. Wouldn't want CEDA picking up where their test subjects had run off to. I grit my teeth, trying to read the cracked sign by the road. I knew I'd already crossed into Tennessee…was this the exit? My mind was too dull to tell for sure. Goddamn it all. You managed to get lost again, didn't you?

I shook my head, hoping to clear it, and sucked down the last few drops from my water bottle. Damn. Out of water now too. Batting a thousand today, Kate. Did I still have those iodine drops somewhere? I was sure there must be a water source around. Had to be, even if I had to settle for a dirty puddle. What was more dangerous anyway: dehydration or getting sick off bad water? My head was pounding dully; it had been for days now.

I missed the snow sometimes.

I grumbled wordlessly, squinting at the sign for the exit ramp again. It shouldn't be half this hard. Maybe I really was in trouble this time. What would happen if I passed out on my own out here? How long would it take me to get eaten alive?

Then it'd wake you up, wouldn't it? Now fucking focus. What's on the sign?

I blinked, shambling a few steps closer. That was better. Maybe it had been a glare or something. Heat waves from the asphalt. Another squint revealed a small, spray painted symbol. It was the usual crudely drawn house and cross, but the black ink was surrounded by a faded green circle. I laughed woodenly and snorted. Apparently, someone had gotten a little too creative with their work here.

But a safe room was a safe room. Maybe there'd even be water.

I headed off in the indicated direction at a snail's pace, singing under my breath as usual to keep myself company. I couldn't remember half the words to any songs, but filling in the blanks occupied my time better anyway.

"Always gonna be another zombie…never gonna wanna see it moooove…"

Probably a good thing I'd been traveling alone. My voice was dry as sandpaper and cracked, basically the fingernails on the chalkboard of life.

"Always gonna run out of ammo…sometimes I'm gonna have to…to…ah, shit. Uh…"

I stopped and frowned at the huge wall on the horizon. That…definitely wasn't a safe room. Looked more like a prison. CEDA. I limped off the path as quickly as I could manage, taking cover in the tree line. Shit. If folks were there, all I could hope was that I'd been overlooked by any lookout. Or heard. Could be another CEDA facility for all I knew, but why would Sharon have had a settlement in the same state if that were the case? I had a hard time believing she'd been double crossing us after what happened to her.

I shook my head. Best not to think about it. Right. I waited a little longer, stomach sinking when I heard the unmistakable mechanics of the gate opening. They must've seen me, whoever they were.

Fight or flight. But I knew I wouldn't get anywhere on foot fast enough in my condition. I doubly confirmed that when I saw the Jeep pull down the road. Wasn't about to outrun that, even in top shape. Trusting no one, I went for Plan C: duck down and pray they didn't see me. My heart hammered in my ears as they stopped within twenty feet of me. No doubt they'd seen me already, but they were too close for me to even attempt running now. My hand drifted soundlessly to my hunting knife; if worst came to worst, I wasn't about to go down without a fight.

"Hello?" It was a woman's voice, an unfamiliar one. Jarring to hear after months of talking to myself. "It's alright…we don't want to hurt you." Yeah. Right. Look where that got me last time. Another car door slammed and I heard another set of footsteps.

"You sure it wasn't just a zombie?" A man's voice this time. That voice rang a bell, but I couldn't place it for the life of me. I was wound too tightly to do anything but freeze and listen.

"No," the woman answered, low enough that I doubted I was meant to hear, "But I doubt it. When's the last time you've seen one wandering by itself? And whoever it was, they were on the path. With a backpack. You don't see a lot of the undead carting supplies around." The man scoffed,

"We're wasting time. Hey, you!" Obviously directed at me. "We saw you. Stay out here for all we care, but we're not playing hide and seek all day."

"Goddamn it, Nick. You catch more flies with honey, you know. Jesus."

"Thought you said it was human?"

"Jackass. Look, let's just get back. I bet you anything you scared them off anyway."

Good. They were leaving. Finally. I could figure the rest out on my own. Maybe stay in place until dark, move while their visibility was poorer. That was, assuming I still had enough energy to move when I'd eaten nothing but an expired protein bar all day. And still no more water.

Wait…Nick?

I stumbled to my feet with an undignified crash of branches, doing my best to ignore what would happen if I was wrong. Dehydration threw your survival instinct for a loop. Sure enough, I wandered back to the path to find two rifles pointed at my chest. I grit my teeth and forced myself to look at the others.

One was certainly new, a lean and tall middle-aged woman with salt and pepper hair pulled into a thick ponytail. The man…I chuckled. My vision was swimming, so what I saw was likely a trick of the light and heat again. Still, his gun lowered a fraction of an inch and his eyebrows raised.

"I'll be damned…Princess?"

I laughed again, gratingly dry,

"Hey, Nick."

It was the most I could manage before I passed out.

I wasn't out long, but I wasn't exactly lucid when I woke either. Someone had taken my knife and backpack, which would have sent me into a panic if I'd been in any better shape. My forehead was warm and sticky, but what part of me wasn't? My leg stung, that was new, and someone was carrying me. I didn't protest to any of it. My head was too heavy to hold up, and I couldn't hear a goddamn thing they were trying to say to me. One of them slapped me, but it didn't make a difference.

Knock it off, asshole. You're still gonna sound like Peanuts teachers from here.

I was distantly aware I was mumbling something too, but I couldn't understand my own words any better. I really hoped I hadn't managed to get a concussion. Were we moving? Must be in the truck. At least it will be a short ride.

Time kept lapsing without my permission. One minute I was lying on the bench seat in the Jeep, next I was wincing against the noise of the huge gate creaking open and closed, then I was in a bed. The papery sheets reminded me of a hospital. Probably because it is one, you nitwit.

Next I knew, there was an IV in my arm and a thin blanket covering me. When had they put me in a hospital gown? Or gotten me clean? Or…huh. Must've changed a few bandages while they were at it. Busy busy. I opened my eyes, but had to squint and clench my teeth at the soft light of the bedside lamp. Even that was too bright right now.

God, my head was killing me.

"You've looked better." Maybe I wasn't hallucinating. That still sounded a hell of a lot like Nick. Somehow, I doubted anyone attached you to IV drips in the afterlife. I turned my leaden head to see him sitting near my bed in an office chair, arms crossed. Huh. He had a hell of a sunburn.

"Your nose is peeling," I told him, still having an impossible time focusing. He snorted.

"Yeah. Helpful. What the hell happened to you?" I rasped a laugh.

"Now that is a long fucking story."