Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of The Walking Dead, just my OC's.

Author's note: This is kinda of a first try at writing this, but forewarning, I am going to change the story line slightly, just by saving Sophia, from then on, well, let's see how this works out. For more clarification, I'm following the T.V series, I haven't read all the comics yet.

The tree I'm climbing isn't exactly fit to sleep in, primarily because the bottom branches are too close to the ground, secondly though, it had thorns on the outer part of the branches that have been scratching me every time I climb up to a higher branch.

The trunk of said tree was five feet across, wider than I am tall by about four inches, so I'm pretty sure it'll hold me. Besides, it's not like a 98 pound twelve year old can put that much strain on a branch, right?

I sigh as I drag my body over the branch that I decided earlier would be my bed for tonight. My ruger 10/22 swayed slightly and rattled a little bit more as it hung from the single point strap that was wrapped around my neck. I carefully turned around and sat down on the branch and removed my backpack with skilled practice, balancing on the tree was tricky the first couple of times I did this, but after a few weeks I got used to it. I unzipped my bag and pulled out the tightly wound rope with knots in it from the smaller section of my pack and then zipped it back up, I've accidentally knocked it off before unzipped, needless to say, it wasn't a fun few hours. I unclipped the heavy grade D-link from one of the loops on my pack and then loop the end of the rope through it and then pull the D-link back through.

I put the pack back on and unwound the rest of the rope, then turned on the branch to where I was straddling the branch and facing the trunk. I let the weighted end slide down about eight feet and started to swing it back and forth, cursing when it hit the branch below it. I started swinging it again and soon got enough momentum to get it up high enough, I then maneuvered the rope to where it started to wrap around the tree. After about six times of being able to wrap it around the tree fully, each time it climbed higher and higher, but on the seventh time I was able to catch the D-link end. My ruger had swayed slightly with every swing, but I wasn't enough noise to worry about.

I undid the D-link knot and tied the rope securely to the tree with a bowline knot that grandpa had taught me from the first time he took me hunting, at six. Tugging on the rope to make sure it was secure, I turned around and put my back to the tree and scooted up as close as possible to it and then wrapped the rope securely around my waist, making sure that it looped through the length of rope that I had attached to the tree. Sighing at the comfortable feeling of being secure, you learned soon enough that it was less awkward than you think and much more relaxing.

I had gotten the idea from reading The Hunger Games, except I just used a rope instead of a belt, it seemed a little bit more helpful, though it wasn't exactly original.

Looking out through the leaves and limbs, I see the sun almost ready to start to disappear into the horizon, I'd say in about thirty more minutes before the night came. I looked down over the edge, it still kinda freaked me out about being fifteen or so feet off the ground, but aw well. It took me a second to find my rolling duffel bag lying down on the ground next to a shrub with the camouflage covering I had draped over it. Now, a duffel isn't exactly the greatest idea to bring into a forest, but grandma had found one that had beyond decent wheels and was sturdy enough to trek through the rough terrain, so she bought it and tested it, it passed. The spacious confines of the duffel was excellent to pack plenty of supplies, and a small amount of personal items as well. Added along with my backpack, which is built more specifically for women, but sidelined for people of a short statue, I had plenty of space that allowed me to carry supplies and be quick about it.

I brought up my ruger and started to inspect it. Grandpa and Grandma were big fans of 22's, more specifically, ruger's, so they bought me one when I showed interest in them. Lucky me that we all use to go to gun show's when they came along every other odd week or so, I was able to buy aftermarket add-on's to it, and they had supported me whole heartedly with that idea. I had taken the original stock and replaced it with a lighter synthetic one that had a foldable stock, and then attached a magazine release lever that wrapped around the trigger guard, that made it much easier to reload. After that, I attached a few picatinny rails to the top of the receiver and near the end of the stock, then attached a cheap but decent scope and a forward pistol grip for balance and stability.

I pushed down on the lever with my finger and took out the magazine's from the well. I say magazine's because I had three of the standard ten round rotary magazines attached to a coupler, allowing thirty rounds to be out and not in the way. I cleared the breech and caught the .22 bullet and then stuck it back in the magazine it had come out of. Pointing the end of the barrel at the sun, I eyed the inside of the breech and looked down the barrel's inside to check if any dirt got in, and how dirty it was. I needed to clean it soon, from the gunpowder, not dirt from the ground. I was going to have to find an overturned bus or the top of a building soon, a DCOA of it would be great, and so would the pistol I have and a few strokes on the wet stone for my knife and screwdrivers would be good as well.

Popping the magazine back into the well and then loading it, I let the ruger slide down the side and reached for pistol in the holster that was wrapped snugly around my belt and had been supported by a strap that looped through my belt. I grasped the pistol firmly and unsnapped the strap around it and pulled it out. The pistol belong to grandma originally, it was a anniversary/Christmas/birthday gift in one from grandpa and me. It was a Kel-tec PMR 30, a .22 magnum pistol that held thirty rounds with a threaded barrel. She had loved it and used it loyally for protection and to exact justice, in this world now-a-days, that wasn't that hard, but was often. She had used it to the end, then she finally gave it to me in her last few minutes. Grandpa had somehow found a silencer for it, but I hardly used it, mainly because I didn't know if you had to cleaned it or what, and if I did, how was the question. Mostly, I just used subsonic ammo.

I hit the mag release on the butt of the handle and popped the magazine out, then laid it down on my lap. I turned the pistol over and racked the slide to eject the bullet in it, it collided with my leg and jumped up, but I clamped my other hand down on to stop it from falling down, thus making me try to retrieve it. I had already gone to the bathroom and all that jazz, I didn't want to have to go back down till morning. Sighing in relief, I picked up the bullet and carefully with one hand slide it home into the magazine. Doing the same eye inspection on the kel-tec as I had done to the ruger, I found it in the same shape. I pulled the trigger a few times to dry fire it and see how the action felt, it wasn't sluggish or slow, but it would be a good idea to take it apart and get rid of the fowling inside it.

I picked up the magazine and popped it back into place and pulled back on the slide to load it. I put it into the holster on my right thigh again and strapped it back into place. On either side of the main holster, are two extra slots that I had put magazines for the kel-tec in. I had to be careful though on how I distributed my weight on my thigh. The magazines were made of a polymer plastic material, and if I wasn't careful I could break them, and it's a bitch to replace them without the internet.

I took a mental account of everything I had on me, a few extra twenty-five round magazines for the ruger are in the side pouches of the hop belt of my pack. My speed loader full of .22's was inside the main padded compartment, my water bladder was full in case I got thirsty. My 13 inch kukri blade was strapped to my left thigh in its sheath, I had sown in a tube like pouch into the side of the sheath, so I had an 8 inch screwdriver in it. Then there was the tomahawk I had next to the kukri, it had a spike on the end and was made throwing and close quarter combat, so I was ready. Putting the ruger in my lap and reached into my hoodie pocket and pulled out my Ipod and headphones.

Grandpa had found a tiny solar panel the size of an Iphone that could charge anything with a USB port attached, I had a battery charger that could accept USB as well, so yeah for batteries and solar power. And with an Ipod shuffle, I got decent battery out of it, now the problem was keeping the headphones intact. I knew every song on it, and the symbols were worn off. This was one of the few pleasures left of the old world, and music was highly valued by a lot of people, still is. And to retain some old fraction of normality before everything went to hell, well, it was great and a major blessing. Thank god for grandparents that liked to hunt and were prepper's, well, slightly prepper's.

Everything I owned now, was either handed down to me, or I worked for. It's good to still say you own something that is completely yours from before everything, before the dead started rising and eating people.

I put an earbud into my ear and wrapped the cord around the back of my neck and was getting ready to clip the ipod to the cord, when I heard a fallen branch snap and the shuffling of leaves. I freeze for a moment, not breathing. I heard more shuffling and snaps, then crunches of footfalls, followed by shuffling. I quickly and quietly put up my ipod and brought up my ruger, I put two fingers on either side of the safety button, and slowly I pushed it on to fire from safe. It made a soft clicking noise that felt like an earthquake and sounded like a banshee shrieking it's head off to me. I heard the tale tell moans of them.

Walkers.

I didn't say anything but narrowed my eyes, the sun was about twenty minutes away from setting, so a few of nature's natural critters were out, the walkers are probably shambling after them. Then I heard a feminine cry of fear, causing my eyes to widen slightly. My breath hitched as my body stiffened, my heart pounding in my ears.

Gripping both sets of pistol grips, I breathed in slowly through my nose and tried to keep calm. It's probably some woman that tried to hoof it on her own and got caught by a few stragglers when she passed to close to the side of the road. She was probably scratched or bitten and trying to fight for her last few minutes or hours of life before she turned.

The shuffling and snapping was growing louder and louder, soon whimpers and slight sobs came from my right. I looked over towards a slight clearing that was about twenty feet away from me, then I noticed how the shrub my duffel was next to was in a direct line from the trail clearing, if anyone or thing decided to run, or shuffle, they'd most likely trip over it. The whimpers were getting closer and louder.

"Shit." I cursed softly, and then started to unravel the rope around my waist. I had put the rest of it in the gap between my back and the tree that my pack didn't cover, so when I undid the length around my waist, I made sure to pull it out of the loop that I had wrapped it through. I glanced back at the clearing and saw branches ruffling and swaying slightly. I quickened my work and soon had the rope hanging downward but wrapped around the branch once for added protection in case the bowline didn't work out all that well. The rope was thirty-five feet long with the knots in it, the knots were obviously for ease when going up or down the rope.

I grasped the rope and turned around slowly, stepping on a lower branch till I could safely stand. I wrapped my feet around the rope and put a extra hand on the rope, then started to quickly, but safely, make my way down the knotted rope. I noted that the noises were getting closer and closer, and the sobs were getting more and more frequent. I finally reached the bottom of the rope and quickly turned around, bringing up my ruger and doing a swift survey of my surroundings. I didn't see any walkers, but I did notice that the woman and her group of walkers were getting closer and closer.

I didn't just wanna stand here and tell her to get down if she came out of the clearing, so I quietly ran to corner of the clearing and crouched down behind a bush. What the hell am I doing? Why am I playing hero for some woman I don't even know? Hell, she could just be part of some group that uses her as bait to draw out wishful hopefuls who think they can be knight and shining armor.

The tree line where I hear the noises was shuffling around a lot, the moans and hisses of the walkers were getting more and more frequent. I heard heavy breathing from the woman as she got closer and closer.

I didn't need to save her, I could just reposition my duffel and climb back up my tree as soon as the walkers were past. The chances of that happening again are high, I won't let that happen again. I WON'T!

The brush of the tree line exploded in a slight cloud of leaves. My eyes widened drastically as I saw the person, it wasn't a woman, it was a girl, a girl about my age. She had red hair, wore a blue shirt with a rainbow on the front, white kaki's, I think kaki's at least, and she held a rag doll in her hands close to her chest.

I cursed silently again, if this was some ploy, these bastards were gonna pay big time. the girl looked over her shoulder, her eyes full of fear. And they were full of fear for a good reason, because three walkers stumble/shuffled/thriller'd out from the tree line. One was a woman that had a torn dress that was ragged, her skin was dark and bloated, part of the flesh covering her mouth was gone. She walked with a limp and an arm behind her, broken and gnarled. The other two where both male, one wore a bloodstained suit with its stomach hanging out from a hole bitten through his suit, he could move best out of the three. The last one that was in the back of the group looked like a backwoods hick, a mullet and what used to be a beer gut barely covered by a wife beater and some ugly looking plaid shirt that didn't even look comfortable. Its arms were down at the side, both hands missing with chunks out of its arms, I saw handcuffs dangle from what was left of its left wrist.

I didn't want to alert any more walkers to our location, lord knows the girls screams would bring some over if she didn't stop soon. I let the ruger fall silently and pulled out my screwdriver from its homemade sheath. I had covered the handle with electrical tape around the middle to ensure a better grip, a trick I learned from grandma. The girl sobbed, then turned her head back, right as she tripped over my duffel.

SHIT! I let the walkers pass the bush as the girl layed on her face stunned for a few seconds, then quickly and silently got out from behind it. The walkers were about fifteen feet away from her as she turned on her back slowly. I creeped up behind the mullet walker as it straggled behind the rest of the group, my screwdriver in my right hand. The walker was taller than me by almost a foot so I was going to have to find a way to bring it down to my size. The girl screamed as her eyes fixated on the suit walker. I didn't want to say anything to alert the walkers.

I got up right behind the walker, I noticed the smell was slight compared to how they first started out. I reached up as it leaned back to stagger forward, I could never explain why some did it that way, and grabbed ahold of its shirt collar with my left hand and yanked. The walker started to moan something, but I cut if off with a thrust of my screwdriver into the back of the base of its neck, going into its skull and brain. The zombie stiffened then crumpled as I twisted the screwdriver and pulled it out as it went to its knees. The woman walker slowed slightly but the suit walker didn't stop, it kept on charging for the girl, who wasn't screaming anymore.

I sidestepped the walker I had dropped and took long strides to reach the woman walker, who was turning her head slightly. I cursed mentally as the walker turned, then without reacting, I stabbed at it with my screwdriver, burying it in the walker's throat. The woman walker did a gurgling hiss and reached out to me. I stepped back away from it and put my hand down to left side and grasped for the head of my tomahawk. I took one more step back, hitting my heels on the hick walker, and quickly pulled out the tomahawk and repositioned my hands.

The woman walker had shuffled further and let out a louder hissing gurgle, and the suit walker had stopped walking and had turned it's head. I raised up my tomahawk, the spike end facing the walker, then jumped up slightly and buried the spiked end into the walker's forehead. It reached out for me for a few seconds before the hand finally fell to its side useless. I tugged on the tomahawk and tried to pull it out, but got a little resistance as the walker fell down to its knees. The suit zombie was facing me and let out a moan and started to walk. I cursed again and put my foot on the walkers bloated chest and pushed against it while pulling the tomahawk. It gave way after a few seconds, I pushed the walker to the side and raised up the tomahawk again, this time with the axe edge facing forward.

The walker let out one more groan, and then I brought my arm forward, letting go quickly and snapping wrist as it left my grasp. The tomahawk flew end over end twice before the blade buried itself deep into the walkers head, just above the nose bridge. It fell forward even more lifeless than before.

I sighed in relief, then narrowed my eyes and looked at the girl, who was staring at me wide eyed in shock, awe, and a small trace of fear. "You see that tree behind you?" I ask her, keeping my voice low.

She slowly turns around and looks at the tree I had climbed and let the rope down. She turned back around to face me and shook her head yes. "Who-"

"Not now." I tell her. "The chances of more walker's coming around is to high, I want you to climb up that tree till you get to the end of the rope. Get up there and cling to the tree, understand?" I had put my foot on woman walkers shoulder and started to push it over.

"But-"

"Look, just try to climb the rope as high as possible." I pushed harder against the walker and it flipped over onto its back, exposing its neck, and my screwdriver. "I'll help you up the rest of the way if you need it. NOW GO!" I whisper/yelled the last part.

She didn't need to be told twice, she got up to her feet and went to the tree. I bent down and wrapped my hands around the handle of the screwdriver, putting my foot on the forehead of the walker to make sure it stayed down. I pulled on it three times before I managed to pull it out, guess I must have got it jammed between the vertebrate. I looked back up at the girl and saw that she was a third of the way up the tree already, she was having trouble getting her footing on a branch and keeping her doll under her arm.

I raced to the other walker and found its head twisted slightly as the rest of its body laid like the others. Not wanting to waste more time before the light went away, the shadows were already long enough as it was, I just grabbed the end of the tomahawk and started to wriggle it loose. After a second of wiggling, I tugged it and it came free. I put the screwdriver and the tomahawk back in there sheaths and went to my duffel. The netting was detached slightly, so I wrapped it back up and put it behind the bush, why I didn't before was pure stupidity on my behalf.

I looked back up at the tree and found the girl about to reach the branch where I had made my camp for the night. Taking a quick survey of the surrounding woods, I found nothing but disappearing light. I made my way to the rope and started to climb up it, soon I was up on the tree limb, staring at the girl as she hugged the trunk and looked back.

"Who…who are you?" she asks.

"You know, since I saved your life first, how bought you tell me who you are first."

She furrows her brow, forgetting the fear slightly. "I asked you first."

I crossed my arms, keeping my balance and hold with my legs and stared at her. "Yeah, and I stabbed three walkers in the head saving you."

She sighed and relaxed slightly. "Fine. I'm Sophia Peletier."

I smiled and gave her my hand. "Micah Grave." She slowly took my hand and shook it softly. She had no grip whatsoever, and I saw old bruises on her wrist and upper arms, they looked finger shaped. Walkers do grab ahold of people hard enough to bruise, but that was more around they're lower arms and wrist's. the bruises were yellow and faded out, and I saw a slight scar on her wrist as well, it looked jagged. "Before we get down to the basics of chatter and talk, lets get some more important things out of the way. Have you gone to the bathroom yet? We have less than 10 minutes of sunlight left, so I need to know now."

She nodded her head no. "I just got done using the bathroom when they found me."

I nodded my head, then narrowed my eyes. "Alright then, now the more important question. Where you scratched or bitten?" I couldn't see any obvious blood stains, and I could tell if there would be blood since her clothes weren't exactly dark and red.

"NO!" she shouted. I shushed her harshly and looked around on the ground, I didn't see any walkers around.

"Alright then. So here is what's going to happen, I'm going tie myself to the tree first, then I'll tie you to me so we can sleep well tonight, I'm not asking or answering any more questions till the chances of falling off are decreased drastically."

She looked at me, then at the tree. "That's a good idea and all, but wouldn't it be better if I was attached to the tree and you to me? You have the weapons and all."

I stared at her, then let out a groan of annoyance and smacked myself in the head. "Fine."

She giggled at me. "Besides, I think it'd be better with the taller person in the back."

I glared at her. "Look, your eight inches taller than me, big whoop. Remember, I was the one who saved your ass."

She pouted at me. "Kids shouldn't use words like that." She berated.

"I'm 12 goddamn it!" I whispered harshly. She blinked, then looked like she didn't believe me. "Just because some you're the national average height of a 12 year old doesn't mean everyone else is."

She winced and quickly bowed her head down and attached herself to the tree more. "Sorry." She whispered. I had the feeling she's been reacting like that to a lot over the pass couple of years, and none of it had to do with walkers.

I sigh and scotch forward, wincing slightly as I scooted over a knob on the tree branch. "Look, I didn't mean to yell at you, I'm sorry."

She looked at me, then shook her head. "It's fine, thanks for saving me."

I smiled at her and nodded my head. "It's okay, now, face me and place your back against the tree as close as possible." She looked down at the ground, then clung tighter to the tree. "Okay, I now this is kinda scary your first time, but just look at the sun or at me, alright?"

She nodded her head, and slowly she started to turn to me and placed her back flush with the tree. I leaned over to the side and pulled up the rope, after a few minutes I had it all up and pooled around my arm. I scooted closer and tossed a loop around Sophia's head. "Now lean forward slightly." she did that and I moved the rope down lower till it reached her lower back. I then leaned forward and with both arms I managed to loop the rope through the loop on the tree and then tightened it around her stomach. "Too tight?"

"Just a little bit." She admitted, then took in a deep breath. I loosened it a smidge and looked up at her. "That's fine, I think."

I nodded and tied a knot, trying not to tighten it too tight. "Alright, know it's my turn."

"How do you know how to do this?" she asks as I turn around and scoot back. "And why is there a pink skull on your backpack?"

I blush at the pink skull bit, but I shake my head and wrap the rope around my stomach, making sure to go underneath my ruger. The tree groaned slightly. "The backpack was made more towards women of short stature, but a lot of small guys used to buy them." I twisted slightly and threaded the rope between Sophia's, she had to suck in a breath every time the knots came trough. "And you'll have to be more specific on what I learned."

"How did you know how to take down the walkers? And this sleeping in a tree thing?" I scooted further back into Sophia, and stiffened as she wrapped her arms around my waist, under the rope above the pack strap.

'Come here kiddie, don't you wanna sit in santa's lap?' I remembered, and shuddered as I could remember the mans voice.

I counted to ten, then let out a deep breath. "The tree thing I got out of a book, and the walkers, well my grandparents were firm believers in that children should learn to take care of themselves. Plus, they already had me doing stuff similar to this, I guess. They were paranoid in a way when it came to society, so when I came along, they kinda went doomsday prepper. We also had a retired KGB woman who lived next to us, so she showed me a few things along with grandma and grandpa." I tightened the rope and then tied it into a knot.

Sophia thought about it for a minute before she spoke. "Where's your grandparents? Are you alone?"

I glared at the setting sun, my hand gripping the pistol grips of ruger. "My grandma and grandpa died almost two months ago back when we were all in Alabama. I've made it here all by myself." I had found a toyota corolla a few days after everything went to shit, one of the newer ones that got like 40 miles to the gallon. I had cleared Alabama within a day of finding it, and the tank ran dry about 80 miles into Georgia. It was kind of fun driving on a stack of phonebooks, especially when my butt was already torn up from-

"Where are your parents?" she asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I sighed and leaned my head back against her, it was kinda nice being held by someone, or at least by someone who wasn't a walker. "My dad went to prison more often then I remember for petty stuff, like gas station robbery and all that jazz. His last strike was when I was seven. My mom, well, I don't know what happened to her."

She tightened her grip around me, her doll resting between her two hands. "My dad died a few days ago." She said it sorrowful, but I heard something like happiness to it.

"I take it he was a dick?"

She waited a few seconds, then. "He was a monster."

I nodded my head. "And people think that walkers are the only problems around."

She didn't say anything for a minute. "I have to get back to my mom." A pang of pity went through me. Her mother was probably a walker by now. "The others are probably worried as well."

That got me to stiffen. "Others?" I ask quietly. More people, potentially dangerous people that could-

"You can join us." Sophia exclaimed happily. "I'm sure Rick and the others would let you join us. I mean, you can take down three walkers by yourself, and your only 12!"

"SHH." I warn her, then we both listen for walkers, and heard nothing. "Look, I'm not sure that's sure a good idea. I'm not much a fan of groups, I think I'd rather just be by myself."

"But why?" she asks. "Don't you get lonely?"

I kept silent. I was lonely, but I wasn't alone, I had me, and, I had it. "Look, where was the last place you saw your mother?"

She sighed. "On the highway, we had all stopped to look for food and stuff, then out of nowhere all these walkers came along. Hundreds of them, all of them just following the road." Roamers, they were basically just walkers that gathered as a group because one walker decided to follow a noise or something, the others just followed along. Pack, or hive mentality is what I think its called, grandpa said it every once in a while, I didn't know what it meant. "We all hid under cars or on top of the RV, I was underneath a car, when I thought they were all gone, I got out from underneath it, but a walker was there. It chased me to a creek with another one, but Rick came after me. When I got down to the creek, he told me to wait under some tree roots while he distracted them, he said to go back to the road as soon as the coast was clear. I did what he said, but…." She sniffed. "I got lost."

I rested a hand on hers. "It's going to be fine now." I hope. "Look, I'll take you to the road and then I'll give you a gun and you can go find your mother. I'm sure she's either sitting in a car or left some sort of message after the rest of the group found a safe spot to hide at for the meantime." God I hope I wasn't lying through my ass, I really didn't want to have to deal with a crying girl, or at least train some kid who's probably got a victims mentality.

I thought pot calling the kettle black viciously. I was in the same boat as her, hell I still am.

"No please, don't leave me on my own." She begged, holding me tighter. "I… I"

Damn it, I just have to be a nice guy. "Fine, I'll take you to your mother." She hugged me and giggled. "But I'm leaving after that, understand?"

She sighed. "Fine." She sat silent for a moment. "I hope we find her soon, trees are uncomfortable."

I chuckled and nodded my head. "Yeah, that's why I wear baggy clothes, they can make cushions. Don't worry, you get used to it after a while. Just wait till we find a multi story house or a tinted car that's off the ground."

"Why?"

"Because in a house with two stories, we can clear it out, sleep in one of the top bedrooms, and if walkers show up and breech the doors, we can climb out the window. In a car though, that's trickier. It can't be a clear coated window or else a wandering walker could see us. And it has to have some space between the seats on the floor."
"Why the floor?"

I sigh and look up. Twenty questions isn't my favorite game. "Because its easier to cover up with blankets or a tarp when your sitting in the floor. If we sit in the chairs and sleep, the walkers would investigate the fact that our chest are moving up and down, and blankets or tarps fall off easier when your lying on your back in a chair. Trust me, found out the hard way." Yeah, grandma and grandpa up front, and you wake up in the middle of the night to find a rotting flesh snapping at your through a broken window.

"Alright, I'll take your word for it." she says.

"You hungry or thirsty?" I ask. My pack had a built in water bladder with a tuber tube and a stopper at the end you bite down and sucked on to drink. I also had a few granola bars in my bag, found a box of them in a car.

"A little thirsty, I don't think I could eat anything after all that." Good point. I pick up the rubber hose end and curve it over my shoulder, she grabs it. "How do-"

"Bite down on the end and suck, there's distilled water inside my bag." she doesn't say anything, but soon I hear the noise of running water. "Don't drink to much, I am not waking up in the middle of the night to help you down to use the bathroom."

She stops and lets go. "Thanks that was good."

"Your welcome, now get to sleep. We're gonna have a long day tomorrow."

"Alright…. And Micah."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." She says, then I feel her head on my neck, breathing in softly.

"Yeah, your welcome." I say to her, then close my eyes. Don't let this be a mistake.