Thank you, fans, for reading. As stated before, this story started off as a role play between a friend and I which is why the writing was a bit fast paced in the beginning. This is where we left off and now I have control over all characters. Enjoy the read and let me know what you like and dislike!

Love,

Lynnie Pop

"Damn that sucker was in there deep!" I mused, eyeing the scrap of bloody metal. "Take a look at-Jesus, Phil!" I dropped the bullet on the floor when Phil suddenly screamed, the belt not exactly doing what it was supposed to. He slumped back after his body finished jolting and spasming. I stared at him in silence, unsure if I'd killed the man. Slowly creeping forward, I placed my finger under his nose and felt his shallow breaths; he was out but not dead yet.

I finished dressing his wounds and cleaning it as best as I could with what supplies he'd scavenged and did my own hunt. There wasn't much in terms of women's clothing but something was better than nothing so I tossed a few things of his on. They were sizes too big and as I stared at myself in a stained, cracked mirror, I noticed how small I suddenly looked. Not because of the oversized clothing, but for the forlorn look in my eyes. At the edge of the button-up collar something caught my eye. I reached up and touched at the puckered skin on the curve of my neck. A rounded scar still red and healing, purple from bruising, a little black as if from poison, blistered like burns. Fletcher's bite. I fell to my knees suddenly; the weight of it all hitting me.

Fletcher killed my sons, should have infected me, and I killed him. But I was still alive and the wound looked like it was fighting the infection. For the second time in this really screwed up day I was realizing the truth.

Immune, but how?

"Addison?"

I barely noticed the tears on my cheeks until Phil was calling out to me and I bounded to my feet. I swiped at my face but knew there was no way to hide the puffy redness. "I'm here," I whispered, trying to keep my face hidden in the shadows. I tossed him a clean shirt and turned towards a window, away from Phil. "It was a crude fix up, but you're good as new, I guess."

"Yeah, hurt like hell. I guess that makes us even." Phil grumbled, wincing as he sat up and began to rummage through an old backpack, cursed a few times, and finally zipped it shut. "Looks like we'll be going this blind and I sure as hell ain't happy about it," he ran a hand through his shadow beard in thought before tugging the shirt over his head. "An acquaintance told me about your… situation. Infected or not; your life means a great deal to someone. They've asked me to get you out of the city. There's a refugee camp with some—how did he put it—like-minded people. You'll be safe there for the time being."

Everyone knew more about me than I knew about myself it seemed. There was some faceless someone out there protecting me.

"We have to go now. I need you to stick close to me no matter what happens. No more running away now, you hear? Don't think we'll get so lucky again." He scrutinized me with hard eyes and had me shuffling in nervousness then looked away, slinging the bag on his back

"I don't trust you worth shit, but I won't run. You're my best bet of saying alive." I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest. I took a deep breath and turned from the window. "You're not getting some sort of payment out of this are you?" Why would he do this for free anyway?

"No. I owed someone a favor… If I'm being honest; I had no intention of breaking you out of there. Everything kind of happened all at once." Phil glared at the ground, "I'm pretty fucking pissed at Ron for putting me in this position. It was goddamned smart of him; he must've suspected that I'd decline."

Lovely, there was some puppet master out there pulling strings. I rubbed my eyes in sudden exhaustion and walked over to where I'd patched Phil up. "Mind?" I asked with a crooked smile and took the belt I'd had him use as a gag. "Your clothes aren't exactly women's size." I hitched up the oversized pants and belted them in place. "How do you plan to get us passed the gate? There is no way in hell they're just gonna let us waltz out, especially me."

Phil smirked at that, "You think that I've got some sort of plan for all of this? I'm as in over my head as you are—making all of this up as we go."

Fuck. I was laying my life in the hands of a clueless smuggler. I headed towards the door and touched the knob without opening it. God, how has my life changed? How did I suddenly go from a married woman of two sons to having nothing? I yanked the door open, refusing to cry. "Lead the way."

PHIL

I glanced back at the home I'd occupied for the past decade one last time and took point down the dim corridor. Debris crunched under our feet as we made our way down the steps, "We use a tunnel system to get in and out of the city without alerting the military. It's risky… The infected have been lurking about. Not a safe place to traverse alone." Not like we had a choice.

I peeked out a half-boarded window; the military had APCs patrolling the streets in pursuit of their escapee. Thankfully dusk was rapidly approaching, so we'd at least have the cover of night on our side. I waited for the patrol to make it down the block before I led her out onto the sidewalk. We took a sharp turn down an alley that turned into a maze of paths in between the cluster of buildings. There were likely foot patrols, so I made sure that each move we made was deliberate—there was no room for mistakes.

We made it to our destination unscathed and without the military's attention. It was another rundown apartment building that looked inconspicuous next to all the others. I continued into the lobby and took the hallway that led to the first floor rooms, we stopped at a room marked 4 and I knocked softly with my knuckles. There was a long pause, and then the door opened, but was secured by a chain. "That you, Phil?"

"Yeah. Open up, need to use the Cove."

"Shit… Glad to see that you're alright. The streets are a fuckin' mess, man." A dark-skinned man opened the door and let us inside. He paused to size up my companion and quirked a brow, but didn't question me. He knew better than that. "Be careful down there. All this ruckus—who knows what its attracted."

"Thanks." And we descended into hell.

Addison was quiet, much to my relief—I didn't care for small talk. I had to push her away, to treat her as I would a package that needed to be delivered. I imagine the silence must've been torturing her, for she eventually succumbed and posed a question.

"So... You said 'we' use this tunnel system and that guy back there knew you pretty well. Are you some sort of group?"

"No, I usually work alone. The risk is very high. I got tired of burying friends." I left it at that. There was more to it, of course, but I wasn't about to let a complete stranger into my life—especially someone I wouldn't be around for much longer if all went well.

ADDISON

There was a noise in the tunnel that I didn't hear or take much notice to. It sounded like footsteps and it was hard to discern if it really was someone else's or just ours echoing back at us.

"Like a group of vigilan-"

And I was on the ground. My lungs quickly deflated and I sucked greedily at the air. As soon as that was accomplished my brain registered the pain in my back and I was suddenly disoriented. Probably because I smacked the back of my noggin on the tunnel floor. Something was screaming and I knew it wasn't me. I blinked my vision clear and saw the remnants of a bloated, rotted human being. It reared back like a snake and struck down at me just as quickly. I only had time to thrust my arm up and feel its broken teeth sink into my forearm. Then my screams joined its.

"Phil!" Was the the only thing I could yell while the infected tore at me like a dog for fresh meat. The shirt I'd borrowed from Phil was a mess at the sleeve and I knew my arm probably didn't look any better. I tried shoving my knees up and into its stomach so I could try pushing it off me, but it had more strength than I knew. "Phil!"

He acted on impulse, grabbing a rabid man by his shoulders and forcing him against the wall of the tunnel. I was scared as all get out. I'd never been attacked like this before and I immediately feared for my life. No one survived bites. Ever. It was unheard of. He immediately lunged at Phil, but he caught the infected and dashed his head against the wall in one fluid motion. A gut-wrenching crack was heard the moment of impact and the rest of his body went limp. Phil took a step back and let the corpse slump down before turning to me.

"You gotta get that covered up."

I was practically in shock when Phil got to me. My body began shaking and I was beginning to blubber like some fool. I jerked up from the ground and nearly latched myself to Phil when he came for me. How could I have not heard that thing coming? I always prided myself in my listening skills.

He gently took my wounded arm in his hands to survey the damage. "I have a kit in my bag. Not really prepared for a bite, but I can at least bandage it up for you."

"I'm gonna die." I mumbled over and over staring at my ruin of an arm. I couldn't tell how bad it was with all the blood but I didn't see any bone so maybe it wasn't too bad. My head snapped up in alert suddenly. I saw the movement, didn't know what it was and didn't care. "There's more!" I shouted and shoved Phil to the side.

What was once human lunged over our heads just as we both went down hard, he grunted painfully when I conveniently landed on top of him and for a second I wanted to shout I don't weigh that much! I almost started to laugh hysterically at that thought. What was I thinking? I needed to get my priorities in check.

Quickly shoving off Phil, I grabbed his pack and jerked him up as best I could with one arm. No time for fixing me up now. I cradled my arm against my chest and slung Phil's pack on one shoulder. "Get us the fuck out of here, Phil, I'm not dying today!"

I could hear their screams and wanted to close my eyes and cover my ears against it. They sounded so tortured and so pained, they almost sounded like they wanted to be relieved of this miserable life. And I wished I could do that for them.

Phil scrambled to his feet and broke into a sprint. I matched his speed and from the corner of my eye I saw Phil turn and curse; there had to be more than there was previously. How could there be so many? Phil assured me that it was safe down here, or as safe as it could be in a place like this. From the look on Phil's face I think he was just as surprised as I was.

"Fuck!" he shouted, "I don't know where we are headed! Stay close!"

"I thought you knew this place!" I huffed between breaths, feeling my body running out of energy. What a fucked up day I've been having...

When we rounded yet another corner and a rusted gate met us I let out a pathetic yelp. "No fucking way." I muttered while we approached the gate. Phil immediately threw himself against it as I skidded to a halt. I heard the screams drawing nearer, "Hurry up, Phil," I said beneath my breath, bouncing on the balls of my feet in exasperation. "Hurry up, Phil!" I squeaked when his first attempt didn't work. The gate budged and we flooded in with the infected screaming closely behind our backs; I could practically feel their breaths on my neck; chills skittered down my entire body. Phil pushed the gate closed as best he could.

My relief was shortlived when we hit a deadend. The infected would be strong enough to bash down the rusted gate within seconds. We were fucked. Until a small ray of hope shone ahead: service ladder. I hitched the backpack up my arm and threw myself onto the ladder; Phil scaled it faster than me but I sure as hell wasn't going to give up. I dragged myself up as fast as I could, especially when I heard the cracking moan if bending metal; the rusty gate had given away. My heartbeat ratcheted up and I scrambled awkwardly up the ladder with one arm, slipping more than once and cursing with every mishap.

I could hear them... So close...

I was breathing heavily and sweating everywhere making my palms slide all over the dirty rungs. I looked up, fear shining in my eyes when Phil thrust his arm down into the hole for me.

"Give me your fucking hand!" He growled.

"I can't! I can't!" I screamed, so much fear coursing through me. I pushed myself further and reached feeling my fingertips barely brushing his just as something latched onto my leg. I screamed, not from pain, but from the surprise of the infected grabbing me. "Pull me up! Pull me up!" I practically cried in hysterics, pushing again as far as I could. I gripped painfully onto Phil's wrist and kicked at the infected at the same time. "God damn it! Get off me!"

When I suddenly felt the weight fall off me I dragged myself up with the help of Phil and landed smack on his chest. I stared down at him for a moment, shock in both of our eyes at being alive, before collapsing to the ground on my back beside Phil. "What... the fuck..." I breathed, eyes closed.

"You can fucking say that again."

Everything hurt now, the adrenaline was leaving me and my body was completely shot along with my injuries. This was seriously one fucked up day. I kept my eyes closed, listening to the frantic beating of my heart. It was stupid of me to seriously think that I could lay down like that in the middle of I don't know where, but I was feeling a little bit courageous after surviving a horde of infected.

"Sorry you got thrust into this mess," I said with laugh and pat his shoulder apologetically.

Click.

"Fuck," Phil whispered.

It was such an unmistakable sound; we all lived by it daily. I opened my eyes slowly and stared up at the barrel of a gun. "You've been biten," came a heavily Southern accented voice. "I apologize, ma'am, but I can't let you live."

I suppose since he was so polite about it, I could just let it slide. "Wait," I called up to him, throwing my hands up and slapping the backs of my hands against the pavement. "I'm not infected." I told him in exasperation, my heart kicking up into high gear for the fourth time in one single day.

The gun totting man snorted at me and actually smiled through his bushy beard, a scar puckering along the left side of his face. "Do you take me for a fool? It takes two days, TWO DAYS, for the infection to take you. That bite there," he gestured to my mangled arm with his gun, "is less than a days' time."

Fuck. I was beginning to sound like Phil. "Look, I know you probably won't believe me-hell, I barely can believe it myself-but I'm immune to the infection." I slowly moved my arms and showed him the bite from my husband on my neck; it wasn't pretty to look at but it did show its age. "I was bitten before and by some miracle am still alive. I'm worth more to you alive." I glanced over at Phil and gave him an apologetic smile while he glared daggers at me; owed him the favor of trying to keep him alive after he saved mine. "Just let my friend go and I'll go quietly. He'll leave and pretend he never met the both of us."

The man eyed us for a moment and gestured for me to get up. I did, arms still raised in surrender. He shifted his gun towards Phil to make sure he didn't try anything heroic.

"Just let him go," I said quietly.

"Shut up and get moving," he growled at me, all Southern charm gone.

I complied and started to circle around him while he slowly began to walk backwards. I kept my eyes trained on the man and gave Phil another apologetic smile. Then there was a pop and I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief second, Phil's scream forever engraved in my memory. When I opened my eyes again there was a shot in Phil's thigh and he was doubled over clutching the wound. I couldn't help but scream as well before rounding on the man. "You agreed to let him go!"

"I did," he nodded and backhanded me across the face the gun handle knicking me on the lip, "but I don't want him following. Be thankful for that," he barked and grabbed me off the floor-I barely registered falling from the blow-before shoving the gun into my spine and pushing me forward.

I blinked the looming darkness from my vision and tried to glance over my shoulder at Phil. He my eyes and through the pain I could see determination and a promise to get me out of this alive in his gray eyes. And we left.

The man continued to push me along for a while; I didn't recognize anything. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

"You're immune," he suddenly mused aloud, "I wonder how..." I heard something that sounded like he was smacking his lips together and I couldn't help but shiver in trepidation. Old buildings loomed ahead and the man grabbed me by the arm, spinning me around. "We want what you have," he whispered, his nose touching mine. This close I could see his teeth were a rust color and his breath smelled like rotten meat and old pennies.

"W-we?" I stuttered and winced at the same time another click sounded; something cold around my wrists. Handcuffs.

He licked his lips, a feral look in his eyes. I could hear conversations coming from the old building but couldn't take my eyes off this man, my heart skipping faster, sweat beading on my skin. I bit my lip in fear and tasted blood from the cut there.

He reached up and touched my bloody lip. He examined the shining smear of red on his fingertips before placing them in his mouth, closing his eyes, savoring the flavor. "So sweet," he whispered and grabbed my jaw in an iron grip so at odds with his old face. I winced at the pain from the bruise that was most likely blooming on my cheek and stared in horror at the man. "Delicious." He licked his lips again and I cursed inwardly.

Cannibals.