On the two year anniversary of the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, Annie's world had left her—it was ripped, and chewed and swallowed gone. Her fiancé, Owen, died that day, September 23rd, by a hoard of silent zombies. Those were the worst kinds, the ones that you could never hear. One minute you think you're safe hiding behind something then you turn around and boom, you're dead—that's creepers for you. She didn't just lose the love of her life that day, she lost a friend, and she lost a leader. Owen was the leader of their group, Sector 44, a small little group on the outskirts in Bristol. It was better there, she supposed, living in the outskirts of the country rather than living in the cities, beneath the foot of corrupted and greedy governments.

When he died, she had to assume his role as leader. The rest of them accepted it, and they didn't question it, really, since they had her as his second-in-command for a while. Annie didn't plan on this ever happening, she didn't know how to take care of sixty-five people. She didn't know how to split the food rations, or the health packs, or the bunks. It was hard at first, but they helped her along the way, fully understanding where her frustrations were coming from.

It was good having them there—a family of misfit survivors.

She wished she could see her old family, though.

The day in which he died was etched into her mind in horrid and vivid detail. It began with Owen saying, out of the blue, that he, along with some others, were going to check out what was happening in Kael Bay. Annie had told him not to, it was too dangerous, and they didn't know what was lurking there. They had lost contact with their friends over there about a week ago, what if the same fate befalls them? She would never forgive herself.

And she never has.

He had promised her that he would keep radio contact throughout the mission. He told her there was nothing to be worried about, it was a standard fetch and search quest, but she still didn't like the idea of it. It didn't really matter if she fought against it, he would go anyway. And she didn't feel like fighting with him. He kept to his word, giving Annie and Rhys—their radio guy—constant updates. Nothing much was there, no signs of bodies or blood anywhere, it was almost like they had just vanished. Annie chewed her lip as she turned left and right on the swivel chair. Rhys, who was beside her, kept a careful eye on her, occasionally telling her that it was going to be alright.

Annie leapt from her chair when the radio cut out.

"Can't you fix it?" she said to Rhys who was fussing over the controls.

"I'm trying, but he isn't responding."

"I knew this was going to happen!" Annie mumbled, chewing her fingernails nervously.

"I'm sure it's just a malfunction, he'll come back in a bit, okay?"

It was then, when she heard a crackling static. Bits of sound were being cutting in and out, but she managed to figure out what some of the sounds were. It sounded like fighting and groaning, and pleas. Annie's cheeks went white and she doubled back. Rhys put down the headphones and grabbed her before she could fall back.

"We're being attacked by a group of maybe fifteen, twenty zombies. They're out numbering us, and we don't have enough ammo to get them all." Owen cried out. Annie could vaguely hear the sound of moaning coming from the speaker. Annie gulped and sat back on the chair, bringing the microphone to her lips.

"Owen?" she called out. "I'll send back-up for you, okay? You guys will be okay—just hold on tight!"

"No," he said simply, and that shocked her.

"What? No! I'm not letting you die!"

"There's too many, and we're too far from the base. It'll be useless and a waste of men. We'll fight them off as much as we ca—hey! Back off!" She heard Owen yell when he finished talking, and it sent prickles up her spine. Annie wanted to cry, she wanted to scream and throw things. After that, it was radio silence. Rhys caught her before she could go nuts. Bringing her in closer and shushing her as her tears soaked his tattered Star Wars shirt. Annie screamed out, but it was muffled.

Someone must've heard her crying, and they rushed in. Beth, a slender, nineteen year old girl, stopped at the door and looked at Rhys, who just shook his head and lowered his eyes. Beth covered her mouth with her palms and let out a shaky breath. Everyone loved Owen, some maybe not as much as others, but he was still valuable and known, and they shared in her pain in the coming weeks.

It was an unbearable pain, and she wished it was her who had died with him. They won't get married now. They promised each-other that if this ends, and if they come out of this alive, they'll get married and start again. Knowing Owen, though, it probably wouldn't have happened anyway. He was always putting it off even before the virus spread through. They were engaged a good year before it happened, and every time she suggested a date, he shot it down, saying that it wasn't the right time to get married, something about stress at work, or money, or the time of the year. A girl could still dream though, even if it was a silly dream at that.

But Annie couldn't grieve forever, she had over sixty people to look after, and she would have to make someone her new second-in-command. It took her a while until she chose who would be her second, but she eventually decided on Lucy, a woman of almost thirty, she was a curvy, blonde haired girl with gleaming blue eyes. You wouldn't have thought her to be almost thirty, as she had a youthful face, but she was wise and smart beyond her years, and that was perfect for Annie.

Annie needed to check out a house not far from camp, someone ticked her off about it being recently abandoned. Maybe she can salvage something from there. She needed to find some medication, and if she was lucky enough, some cards. That was the currency in this New Age—cards, fuel, and medication. Medication could be traded in for supplies because of how high in demand they were, and how rare they were. The cards could range from anything like food, to clothes, to water. They were mostly used in government run sectors, but they weren't all that uncommon in the outer-parts. You didn't have to trade in fuel, but you could. Often, people would just take the fuel they find and use it, but you can always buy it in exchange for something else.

Annie approached the house. "Alright, I'm here. Are you sure I'm clear?"

Rhys paused, making a humming sound. "Yeah, it looks clear on my end."

"Are you sure?" she asked again.

"Yes, it's clear. Now, get in and do what you do best."

Annie chuckled as she bent down, preparing to pick the lock. "And what is it exactly that I do?"

He laughed awkwardly, and she could almost see him nervously scratching the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his young face. "You know…the thing."

Annie shook her head. "You're lucky you're cute, Rhys."

"Aw, shucks, my love."

Annie poked her tongue on in concentration. She was an alright lock-picker, two years of breaking into places really helps you out. Luckily, the lock didn't break, and it opened nicely.

"I'm in."

"You're not in a spy movie, Annie."

"Eh," she shrugged as she stepped inside. "We're sort of are in a spy movie when you think about it. Only, we have zombies to sneak past rather than agents."

He sighed. "That we are. Look, just get in and out of there, yeah? This area is known for having creepers around, y'know?"

"Wait," she stopped. "There could be creepers here? And you didn't tell me?"

"Don't blame me, I thought you knew."

"Well, this is just dandy, isn't it?"

"I can still send some back-up for you; it'll only take them, like, fifteen minutes to get there. If you just wait there, I can send Danny and Ethan ou—"

"Relax," she breathed out. "I'll be fine. Plus, Danny and Ethan are busy in the weapons room. I'm not going to disturb them for a simple salvage quest."

"I highly doubt that," he mumbled, "but whatever you say."

"Thank you. Now, I'm going to need radio silence, yeah? Just while I look around."

He gasped. "And here I thought we were having fun."

"Don't push it, Warner."

As if he was a five year old boy, he mumbled: "I hate when you say my last name."

Annie turned off the radio and pressed forth towards the kitchen. It was empty, and it looked like whoever was there last left in a rush. There were mattresses lying on the floor of the kitchen, and she saw that it spread out to the living room. Big group, she figured. But why did they leave in such a rush? And why did they leave their things here?

Annie searched high and low for something. Every drawer, every cupboard, but there wasn't anything she could bring back, unless everyone wanted some rotting food and items of dirty, blood-stained clothing. Annie trotted up the stairs, and the pictures on the wall caught her eye. It was of a family; a mother, a father, a daughter and a son, looking happy in their family photo. The engraving below it said that it was taken a year before the virus came through. Tragic, she thought.

The medicine cabinet in the bathroom had a box in there; she grabbed it and opened it up. In the, fairly big, blue box, she saw that it had antibiotics, bandages, disinfectant, and various other medical supplies. Turning on her radio again, she spoke.

"Ding, ding, ding, guess who hit the jackpot?" she chimed through, almost scaring the death out of Rhys on the other line.

"Jesus Christ, Annie," he breathed out. "I almost dropped my cig."

Annie ignored that. "I found a box full of medical supplies. I think we can trade these in later. I don't know how much of it will help us, but we'll see."

"That's lovely. Have you checked everywhere else?"

"I've been to the kitchen and to the up-stairs bathroom. Damn, Rhys, it's freaky in here."

"Why's that?" she heard him say, hearing the crackling sound of a lighter.

"Everything has been boarded up, they have mattresses everywhere, there's rotten food lying around, and it seems like they all left in a rush. Oh, and I feel like someone's looking over my shoulder. It's so creepy, Rhys."

"Do you want to get out of there?"

"Eh, not just yet. I'll check the bedrooms; see what I can find in there."

"Alright," he said reluctantly. "You're still clear on the scanner, so, that's a plus."

"Thanks."

Annie rushed to the bedroom to her left. The door creaked open, like it would in a horror movie. A chill went down her spine, but she stepped through the door. The bedroom was littered with guns and boxes of ammo. She felt like a little girl during Christmas.

"There's a room in here that's full of guns and ammo, Rhys."

"Holy shit, really? Is there too much for you to carry?"

"Waaay too much," Annie replied, smiling slightly. They've been having a shortage in guns and ammo lately. So, this was great to see.

"Shall I send the team down now?"

"Yes, please."

"Aye, ay—wait, no. Uh, Annie?"

"Yes?"

"You should get out of there, uh, there's about six zoms coming close to the house. You can probably fight them off yourself, but a word of warning."

"Shit," she muttered. "Now, of all times."

"I know," he sighed. "We'll send the team in when it's cleared, okay?"

"Okay, I'm heading out now. Tell me where to go."

Rhys hummed and made a click sound with his tongue. "The base is south, but the fuckers are coming in from the south, east and west sides of your location. You should head up north for a bit, then head east, and then head back down south."

"How will I know when to turn?"

"Whenever you see a clearing in the path. Tell me when you're about to change, and I'll check if it's clear. I don't know what kind of zoms you're dealing with, but be careful, yeah?"

"Will do."

She jogged out of the house, and she could hear the moans coming from the angles that Rhys told her about. Thank God. So far, the noises she heard were coming from the classics. Classics were the zombies that everyone knows about; they move slowly, they moan really loudly. Annie was thankful that it wasn't a runner, or a screecher, or a creeper. But it was too early to be totally sure.

Annie saw two of them heading from the south, and she began running north. After running for about two minutes, she began to develop a cramp in her calf. Cursing for not stretching, she pressed on through the next crossing.

"I'm heading east." She declared, and Rhys gave her the all clear.

Annie could see them following her, now she could see about six or seven of them.

"I have to take them out, don't I?"

"Unless you want to bring them back to camp, or if you want to run away from them until they give up, then yeah, you'll have to take care of them."

Groaning, Annie flung her backpack over so it rested on her chest, and—still running—she grabbed her gun and spun around, trotting backwards as she aimed at their heads. One by one, she fought them off, getting head shot after headshot.

"It looks clear now," Rhys announced. "You should be alright to come through now."

Annie panted. "Thank God."

"Oh, and uh, you'll probably want to come here quickly."

"Why? Don't tell me there's another group coming."

"No," he quickly said. "There's a man out here, by the gates, who wants to join us or something. He looks sketchy, and we don't know what to do with him. So, you'll need to take a look at him and decide since you're the leader and everything."

"Don't remind me." Annie muttered. "What are you guys doing with him now?"

"Uh, well," he began, "I can see him standing outside the gates, with his hands up. And I can see Tony and Zach pointing their guns at him, so, yeah, that's that, I suppose."

"Alright, keep him by the gates. I'll deal with him. Don't shoot him just yet."

Annie pressed on, despite the cramp still throbbing in her leg. When she reached the gates, she saw a tall man waiting outside with his hands up in the air defensively while Tony and Zach kept a close eye on him. The man had sweat on his face, and the light made it shimmer. His curly hair was damp, too. Annie jogged the rest of the way and waved her hand. Annie heard the gates beginning to creak open. It usually took a bit to open them, so it was a good opportunity to quickly speak to the stranger.

"Can I help you?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"Yeah, hopefully," he said, his thick Irish accent echoed in her ears.

"How can we help you, Mr—"

"—Mitchell," he said. "John Mitchell, but everyone just calls me Mitchell. I would shake your hand, but I'm afraid that if I move my hands, they'll shoot me."

Annie looked up to the wall and saw Tony and Zach still aiming. She waved her arms around, and they held back, putting away their weapons. "That should help."

They shook hands, and hers was sweaty. She felt almost embarrassed as she wiped it off on the side of her pants.

"So, are you the leader around here or what?"

"Yes," she stood up straighter. "I am."

"Good," he smiled. "I was hoping to talk to you about joining you guys."

Annie eyed him for a moment, wondering what he could bring to their sector. Everyone there had to pull their weight somehow or they were useless. There were exceptions, however, for children and babies, which there were a handful in Sector 44.

Annie turned on her heel and began walking into the camp. "Follow me, Mr. Mitchell." He gladly and quickly followed behind her as they walked through the crowd of people who all whispered and pointed to the stranger. Mitchell nodded to a few people, and made a few of the teenage girls blush. Annie rolled her eyes and opened the door to her office.

"In here, thanks." He shuffled inside and she closed the door. Annie stepped around his chair and sat in hers, resisting every urge to slouch down and relax. She sat up and leaned in, her hands locked in with each other.

"So, I'm Annie, and I run things here at Sector 44."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Annie." He grinned, and she felt her throat tighten.

"So, Mr. Mitchell," she began. "Everyone here does something—they all need to pull their weight or else they're useless to us, and we're unable to keep them here. If you want to seek refuge here, or whatever it is you want from us, then you'll have to tell me what you can do before I can even consider bringing you in. What can you do for us, Mitchell?"

Mitchell sighed as he thought about his answer. "I'm a good and fast runner, so I can gather things. I won't kill you if I were to cook. I'm pretty handy when patching people up. And I'm very good with a gun."

Annie leant back, eyeing him again. That was a nice list of traits, but she didn't know if they were correct or not. Chewing her lip, she thought, but she seemed to have thought too long as he raised his eyebrow up, shaking his head.

"Those do seem like good skills to have around here. But I'll have to see you in action. I don't usually do this, but I guess I can give you trial run. Four days, that's what I'll give you. Four days to prove to not only me, but to everyone else, that you'll be an asset to us."

"I won't disappoint you." He said as he stood up to shake her hand once again.

"I'll show you to the barracks, and you can get set up there. Do you have any bags with you, or any belongings?"

"I did, but your people took it from me when I showed up." He shrugged sadly.

"I'll have them sent to you. Follow me, and I'll show you to your room."

He followed close behind her again, and they ignored the stares they received. Annie didn't know what the fuss was about; they weren't usually like that when people came through. Maybe it was because he was a handsome stranger who screamed danger and excitement. The girls around here love that kind of stuff. Annie was worried about that being a distraction, but she was sure that they could keep it to themselves.

Oh, who was she kidding? Those girls will latch onto him like a leech at summer-camp.

Annie opened the door to the barracks, and Mitchell went through.

"Here we are," she said. "Now, everyone wakes up at six-thirty in the morning, and they're expected to be ready to do their work at seven-thirty. Up on that wall is a list of chores that everyone has—it gets updated every week. I'll get them to quickly put you up for something while you're on your trial, okay? If you need anything, just give either Zach or Tony a yell."

"That'll end well." Mitchell laughed.

"Yeah, now that I think about it, it's probably best if you keep it all to yourself."

"Can't I just come to you if I need something?"

Annie paused. "We don't really work like that, but since it's your trial, I guess I can make an exception to the usual rule. Oh, and as a warning, I'll have eyes and ears on you during your trial, so if you do anything shady, they'll tell me. And after the four days are up, I'll have a talk with you to see how you felt."

"Is that everything?" he chuckled as he climbed up to the top bunk.

"Yeah, should be."

"Who's that?" A voice asked—it was Rhys.

"That's Mitchell—the guy who was at the gates."

"You've already let him in?!"

"Relax, Rhys," she sighed. "He's on a trial period. He might stay here, or he might not stay here. It's only for a few days."

"Please don't tell me he's sleeping on this bunk?"

"Yeah," Annie drew in a sharp breath, not taking in the thought that Rhys would be sharing the bunk with him—Rhys wasn't very fond of sharing, especially with people he didn't even know.

"I guess we're roomies, then, eh?" Mitchell grinned, and Rhys sighed heavily, turning to Annie, giving her the stink-eye.

Rhys walked passed Annie, but stopped to whisper in her ear. "If he tries anything, I'll make sure Tony and Zach take care of it."

"You don't have authorization to do that, Rhys." she smirked.

"They'll do it anyway," he paused, looking up to Mitchell. "I'm sure they'll do it in a heartbeat." Rhys slinked away to the door, calling out Beth's name.

Annie turned to Mitchell before leaving.

"Have fun, Mitchell." Annie said.

"Oh, I'll certainly try." He said, but then he smiled. "Thanks for letting me in, Annie."

Annie felt a flush spread through her chest, so she left before he could notice it.