"The only easy day was yesterday."
-U.S. Navy SEAL motto
1: The Rain Hides the Tears
Dean pushed aside the curtain, peering into the night. Rain tapped against the window. Outside, it was deathly cold.
"Still out there, huh?"
He turned, letting the curtain fall. Kelly was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his knees hugged to his chest. He was shivering. Dean nodded mutely.
"How much food do we have left?" Dean asked him, his voice hushed. Kelly shook his head.
"Not much. We're running out of time."
He nodded, swallowing defeat. He knew they couldn't stay here forever; he'd known that for a long time. Still, it left a bitter taste in his mouth to know that he couldn't sustain them for longer. He still felt like it was his fault, despite Kelly and Marlena's insistence to the contrary. "We're all going to die anyway," she'd said. Strange that Marlena had considered those words of comfort.
Marlena. The girl still baffled him. Physically, she was just a kid—at the tender age of fourteen, she didn't exactly have a place in the war zone the world had become, but Dean had a feeling that she wasn't who she said she was. She knew the area too well. The house they were holed up in was on the outskirts of a part of town notorious for its gang activity, and she'd navigated them through like it was her home. Hell, maybe it was. There was just no telling with people these days. She'd known how to fire a gun…well,almost. When she'd first picked up a Desert Eagle, Kelly had narrowly saved her from breaking her own arm in half when she'd tried to hold it sideways. Just like a gangster in a movie, he thought. There were a thousand more things that didn't add up. She claimed she was from "around here," but her voice had a significant New York quality to it. She knew a great deal about the military. But most of all, she displayed a callous cold-bloodedness like he'd never seen before. She killed zombies without batting an eye, and a living human, too. She didn't admit it, but Dean suspected that she was loathe to the idea of being rescued. Still, she was just a kid. Maybe he was overreacting.
He couldn't complain, though. She was always alert and she didn't talk much. She was another pair of eyes. Really, that was all he could ask for.
"I found some food in the cellar." Speak of the devil, Dean thought. He looked around. Marlena was holding up a few cans of food and two bottles of water, smiling a little. "We might be able to hold out until the weather gets better."
"Cool. Put 'em here."
The girl obeyed, setting the food on the table and reaching for a can opener. "Can we eat something, please? I'm really hungry," she whined. Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. callous or not, Marlena could be a whiny little teenager whenever she wanted. He caught Kelly's eye; he shrugged.
"Go ahead," Dean told her. "Just leave some for us."
Happily, she cracked open a can of corn. Just as well, Dean thought. He hated the stuff and Kelly turned it down whenever he had the chance. His stomach growled and, realizing that it had been a while since he'd last eaten, he joined her at the table. He opened a can of beef stew and ate in silence.
It wasn't long before Kelly joined the party, dunking a spoon into Dean's can. The room was quiet save for the clink of silverware and the sound of chewing; finally, Marlena spoke.
"We'd better save some for later," she said quietly. Dean nodded. Reluctantly, the group set down their spoons.
If Nick hadn't robbed us, we'd be able to eat more, Dean thought darkly. Oh, what he wouldn't give to wring that little bastard's neck. He could only find solace in that some zombie had probably already done it for him.
"We could have gone with them to New Orleans, you know," Francis said for the umpteenth time.
"We know, Francis," Louis and Zoey said in unison.
By some miracle, they had made it away from the bridge in one piece, save for Bill. They'd done their best to give him a proper military sendoff, but the gunfire eventually attracted Infected and they'd had to dump his body in the river. Zoey had quietly taken his dog tags and wore them around her neck. She didn't know what she wanted to do with them. It might have been a way to remember him. More likely was that she still held onto the hope that she could find someone who knew him, and perhaps share in her grief for him.
Now, they walked through the streets of a ghost town. Everyone was on edge; they'd walked for what seemed like without seeing a single Infected. Something wasn't adding up; nowhere was this quiet. Ever. Not in the present situation. They'd had to make a large detour to avoid the horde drawn from the lowering of the bridge, and she wasn't sure if they were going the right way. They'd lost sight of the water, and it was troublesome.
"Do we even know if we're going the right way?" Apparently, Louis was thinking the same way. Zoey shrugged, trying not to show that this was bothering her as well. "I mean, not Elysium or anything, but…what if we're just walking into another war zone?"
"We're in a war zone, Louis," snapped Francis. As if anyone needed reminding. Zoey ground her teeth and kept walking. This monotony was getting frustrating. She didn't mind the absence of zombies, but…if she could get an opportunity to fire her gun, it would put her mind to rest, at least a little. She wondered if she was going insane.
Probably a little.
Louis tensed. He'd heard something. He nudged Francis and Zoey urgently, flipping the safety off his weapon. They followed suit, frowning. Louis mouthed, Hunter.
They heard it too, after a fashion, the low, menacing growls that preceded the scream of an attacking Hunter. They edged closer, back to back, weapons facing outwards like a three-pronged human porcupine. The tiredness of walking was gone, replaced by adrenaline and fear. They all knew firsthand the capabilities of a Hunter.
There was silence. Nothing moved. Nobody spoke. No one even seemed to breathe.
Finally, Francis relaxed.
"False alarm, I guess," he grunted. "Let's keep moving."
Slowly, Zoey lowered her weapon and fell into step behind Francis. Louis was the last to go, casting a distrustful look at the road before turning on his heel and rejoining the group.
"The sky doesn't look so friendly," Zoey observed grimly. "We might have to find shelter."
"Bullshit. We've traveled in the rain before," Francis said. "We can do it again."
"Yeah, well back then Bill was still with us!" snapped Zoey. Her voice cracked a little.
There was silence. Louis stiffened, Francis stopped in his tracks. Zoey dropped her gaze furiously.
"We were better off as four," she said bitterly.
"What the hell could we have done?" demanded Francis. "If he hadn't done what he did, we'd be a group of zero right now."
"We could have done something!" shouted Zoey. "Someone should have gone with him! But no, we just—"
"There were Infected on the bridge!" snapped Louis. His voice faltered. "We couldn't have done anything."
"Yeah, I guess that's the touchstone of it all, isn't it?" snapped Zoey. "We couldn't have done anything! CEDA couldn't have done anything, so they lied to us and left us in this mess. The military couldn't have done anything, so they bombed our asses and left us to die! And now—" her voice rose to the point where it was almost hysterical— "now we couldn't do jack shit and someone else died! Cause we're all so helpless, I guess!"
"Zoey, shut up—"
"Oh, okay, shut me up, that's fine. No wonder we're in this fucking apocalypse—"
"Zoey—shut up!"
She faltered and fell silent, slowly lowering her arms. As she slowly returned to herself, she realized that Francis and Louis had their weapons drawn. Ashen-faced at her outburst, she shouldered her hunting rifle.
"Sorry," she muttered. "I…I don't know what got into me." She lowered her gaze, furiously blinking away tears.
"No sweat," Louis said. "I could have sworn I saw something."
"Maybe it was that Hunter," Francis suggested.
"Didn't look like one," he countered. "Whatever it is…I'm getting the heebie-jeebies about it. Let's keep moving."
"Who isn't?" grumbled Zoey, trailing behind the two men. The dog tags were cold against her chest.