Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews/alerts/favorites the epilogue got! Much appreciated :). Chapter one is longer, definitely. And like I said in the previous AN, there will be flashbacks at some point. So if you feel like you're missing out on some things, don't worry ;). I'd also like to say that I got the term walkers from The Walking Dead (there's even a mention of the show in here!) and the epilogue was also inspired by The Walking Dead. Also, I'm going to try really really really REALLY hard to get a new chapter up every week. But I have finals coming up soon so there could be a lag in updates until the beginning of December. If there is, I apologize. Hopefully between all the extra hours I'm picking up for the holidays I'll be able to possibly do more than once a week updates.

Disclaimer:I own nothing. I don't own Logan or James or Kendall or Carlos or Nickelodeon...nothing *pouts*

Chapter One

June 24, 2012

It's hot out today. The sun's been baring down on them for hours now, relentless in its ferocity and unforgiving heat. Or maybe that's just the way it feels to James after walking for two hours straight with little to no water and barely any energy left to stand on his own two feet.

Logan is beside him—was beside him. James stops and turns, sees Logan bent over at the waist a few feet back. He drops his backpack and sluggishly makes his way to the other. Logan groans when James puts a hand on his shoulder, almost immediately shrugging it off, a muttered "too hot" following. James helps Logan stand anyway, ignoring the protests.

"We have to keep going, Logan. The convenience store isn't far, if we just keep going we'll make it there in time to—"

"In time to what, James?" Logan hacks out a dry cough, grimacing. James frowns. "In time to find safety for the night? I'm tired, and you're tired, too, I know it. Why can't we just…" Logan trails off, avoiding James' eyes.

"You're exhausted and the heat's gotten to both of us. Come on," James says softly and loops an arm through Logan's, helping him stand and getting them both to moving again.

James won't admit it out loud but Logan's right. They're both tired, some days it feels like they're both too tired to keep moving, and it's a constant struggle. He wants to give up more often than not. If it wasn't for Logan by his side James is sure he would've wasted himself days ago. But Logan is his only rock, his only companion, and that's the only thing keeping him from giving up completely.

The past few days have been the toughest by far. Two months ago the first outbreak hit, spreading through the country like wildfire, and before anybody understood fully what was happening, at least half the population was gone. Los Angeles was hit fast and hard, people getting sick one after the other. It was hard and it was a struggle to get through the days without being fearful or upset.

The first person to get sick at the Palm Woods was Camille. It starts with a fever, low grade, but then progresses to death. It eats you alive from the inside out, kills you, then brings you back to life. Once you're infected then that's it, you're done. James watched as everyone he knew and loved either got sick or fled the residence. His home for the past three years became a nightmare.

For days he, Logan, Carlos, Kendall, and Katie hid out in the basement. Those first few days were rough, never knowing when it was safe enough to venture out for supplies. After a while the Palm Woods grew silent, the halls empty. Katie was the first to go out on her own; she didn't come back.

Eventually they all decided it was time to leave. There was no one else there for them to wait for so they packed up their hockey duffels with as many supplies as possible, found a car to steal, and left. They were on the road for days. The world was—is —different and it was noticeable in the way the streets were devoid of life, the way the buildings seemed to sway and sag with every gust of wind. The number of dead bodies just lying there, some of them piled up and burned, some of them still fresh, was the best indication that everything had changed.

They traveled and they survived and they lived as a group, just like always, only this time closer than they ever were Before.

But these past days, they've been the worst. Carlos got sick first, got taken by surprise at the last gas station they passed through, and went down in minutes. Kendall put the bullet through his head without flinching. Within two days Kendall was gone, too.

Now it's just James and Logan. A few miles back their car broke down. So they decided to pack up and walk to the last convenience store they passed, hoping they would find enough food and water to last them a few more days until they could get another car and find somewhere new to stay for the time being.

The first two miles were fine. But now they're both struggling two hours in. The convenience store isn't far and James knows, he knows, that if they can just make it there then they'll be fine for a few hours. Enough to time to rest up and eat and rehydrate before they need to move on to another place.

Logan sags against James after a few more minutes of shuffling forward. James is too exhausted to catch him. "You go, I'll be fine here. I just need to rest," Logan says, squinting up at James.

"You can't stay out here in the open. What if there's one of them out here, or what if a herd comes through? Logan, I can't leave you." James ignores the slight desperation in his voice.

"I've got my stuff, I'll go hide in the grass or something. Just go," Logan waves James off, already getting to his hands and knees to crawl towards the side of the road. James looks skeptical for a moment before finally nodding and turning to leave.

He stops, though, looking over his shoulder at Logan. "Got your radio?" he asks.

Logan smiles softly, giving James a quick salute, and nods. "Yeah, channel 241. Don't worry, James. I'll be fine."

James' lips tilt up in a half smile. He salutes Logan back, earning him a laugh, the first laugh he's heard in days. It makes his heart ache. Logan's laugh used to the be the one thing he looked forward to the most every morning, but now the world's taken that from him and James thought he'd never hear such a sweet sound again.

"I'll be back soon. Be safe, Logie."

"I promise."

It takes James twenty two more minutes to make it to the convenience store. There are a couple of walkers out front and he takes them out quickly with his knife. It's not as easy as shooting but it's quieter and doesn't attract the attention of others. He stops and stares at their rotting corpses.

In movies it always grossed him out to see such gore. In reality it's even worse. On screen the spray of blood isn't as startling, the color isn't as muted, and the sounds are definitely more terrifying than when they come through the speakers. After two months of this though, after two months of surviving, James has become numb to it all. The blood no longer makes his stomach roll and the noises no longer make him nervous.

Everything has changed and he's positive there's no going back.

With a sigh he kicks the nearest walker once in the arm. It doesn't respond and he's glad for that. Stupid walkers, he thinks to himself. Zombies never seemed very appropriate. Zombies is a word they use in the movies and television shows. Zombies isn't a word James thought he would ever have to apply to real life. But after one too many episodes of The Walking Dead the term 'walkers' seemed fitting enough. It was Carlos who suggested it first, when one of them let zombies slip out and the entire group fell silent.

James turns his head and keeps walking.

Inside James gathers as much as he can find. There's enough water still in crates in the small stock room and he finds some boxes of crackers and poptarts. It isn't much but it will have to do for now. Once his backpack is full to bursting and after making another quick sweep through the store he decides it's time to leave and get back to Logan.

Worrying is the one thing he hasn't grown accustomed to. The fear and the constant paranoia were eventually pushed the back of his mind, something the all got used to feeling. But the worrying…the worrying he can't just get used to. When it was the four of them he didn't worry too much because they had each other's backs and always made sure each person was safe. Now that it's down to two the worry has increased tenfold.

Every day there's this little nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that something's wrong, that something has happened to Logan. He doesn't know what he would do if anything happened to his only companion. Logan is all he has left.

James hefts his backpack up a bit further on his shoulders. The added weight is dragging it down and if he hadn't already sweated out every bit of moisture left in his body, he'd be drenched within a few minutes. The water he packed up is calling his name so he reaches for the one stowed in his back pocket and takes a long drink. It isn't cold but it's wet and it slides down smooth, refreshing enough to give him the boost he needs to keep going.

He keeps one hand close to his gun just in case he comes up on a problem. It's better safe than dead. As he's walking the wind picks up and it feels nice on his overheated skin. California during the summer has always been full of relentless heat but this time it's worse.

James is about halfway to the spot he left Logan when he hears a gunshot. Before panicking he stops and listens, hoping it was just an echo from some lone stranger far away from either of them. But then he hears another one and another and another, and he's running. The backpack drags him down so he shrugs it off, picking up speed once it's off despite the exhaustion he's been feeling.

As he's nearing the place he left Logan he comes to an abrupt halt. There's a herd, maybe twenty walkers shuffling around, some of them tripping over themselves to get underneath or over the wire fence separating a field and the road. James can see Logan, he can see him, and he's caught on the fence by what looks like his shirttails; he's fighting to get away, James can see him hurriedly unbuttoning the shirt, trying desperately to get it off. He's on the other side thankfully, but James knows that the strength of more than ten walkers can break that barrier.

He's about to call out to Logan, tell him that he's coming, when he's grabbed from behind. A hand has been clamped over his mouth and someone is telling him to be quiet as they drag him out of the road and behind some shrubs.

James struggles and the stranger lets him go. He tries to run away so he can help Logan but he's yanked down by the belt loops. "No, that's my best friend, let me go! I have to help him!" He turns, ready to punch or kick or anything, but there's a gun being pointed at his chest by a woman.

"If you go out there, you'll get him and yourself killed. I can't let that happen, kid," the stranger whispers. Wide eyed, James whips back around.

Now all he can do is watch. The entire herd has picked up Logan's scent from the looks of it. All of them are pressing against the fence; some of them are pulling on it. He can hear the snapping of the wooden posts holding the wire up. James barely notices the grip on his pants has loosened. He could make a break for it and try to help, but he's grounded by worry and fear.

"Please," James whispers, "can't we go help him?"

He doesn't get a response. A loud 'crack!' startles him into nearly toppling over. The fence has fallen. Logan is still struggling to get away and James can practically feel the intensity of Logan's desperation from all those feet away. But then, by some miracle, Logan gets the shirt off and then he's running across the field.

"We have to distract them!" James says, spinning around to face the woman. "If we don't they'll chase him down and—and they'll kill him."

The woman glares at him but quickly relents. She takes out a gun and fires it into the air before running off towards the herd. Most of them see her and start after her. James gets his own gun out too and fires at the closest walker. The ones that are left are looking at him now, sluggishly shuffling to him. He fires another few rounds into the heads of the ones closest to him, then turns around and runs in the same direction of the woman.

When he looks back he can't see Logan anymore.