Mike didn't get any sleep at all. He was constantly thinking about what he needed to do to survive on his own, whether to tell the group or just disappear in the dark of night, and where Tina could be since a month had passed since that post. Before, it'd only been an abstract thought to leave the group, to be revisited within a few weeks but now? Now he knew Tina had gotten out of Lima. She had survived.. and she might need him. He needed her. He let a few tears slide down his cheeks because he was terrified. He was going to leave the safety and comfort of the only family he's had since this all began. He was betraying them. He was going to be alone.
He heard the creaking wood beneath light footsteps that indicated that someone was awake. He laid completely still and breathed deeply feigning sleep, so that they wouldn't bother him in his distress. They'd only ask questions. But what he heard only raised his curiosity.
He lifted his head to peak over the arm of the couch pull-out he was on when he heard a duffle bag zipper. He watched discreetly as Santana packed it carefully and then haulted it over her shoulder. She's not leaving the group, is she? He thought, before realizing that's all she was taking with her, and wasn't suited for a solo journey. He laid back down as she prepared to leave and he heard the door shut softly behind her. He had no idea what she was up to, but he hoped she wouldn't find herself in trouble.
He turned over on his side and tried once again to talk himself out of walking out that door too.
—AP—
Santana trudged through the snow at 5am, wrapped snugly in a Columbia brand sport coat and boots, a beanie hat, and a pair of thick rubber work gloves. She had her machete strapped to her back, underneath her duffle bag of chlorine, heavy duty trash bags, lighter fluid, and a face mask. She wondered why the other sanitation teams didn't bother to properly protect themselves when dealing with the undead corpses. Her gear was free and easy to obtain, since most of the black market groups were looking for more vital things like food, weapons, and medicine. People were just so dumb sometimes.
But Santana was the high maintanence daughter of a doctor. If anyone knew anything about germs, viruses, and infection... it was her. The second time she caught mono her father was adamant that she learn a few things.
And learn she did.
The cold did most of the work but she knew she needed to take every precaution. She'd rather die in a fire than become one of those things. She vowed to herself that if she did go and get herself infected, she'd swallow her fear, look to God and light the flame. But she wasn't going to let that happen.
Sam was going to be all over her now that he'd found out what she'd been up to. It was only a matter of time before he'd tell Quinn, and Quinn would probably overreact and scare the group. They'd think something was wrong with her, that she was mentally sick or.. or something was happening. She didn't need that shit.
See, Santana just had a lot of rage pent up over the situation she was in. She had recurring dreams about her parents and why they hadn't found her yet, she dreamed about Britt being a zombie, she dreamed about Jesse hating her and abandoning her, she dreamed about losing Quinn and having to step up and take care of herself. All these thoughts were overwhelming, and Santana needed an outlet for her anxiety. They'd run out of bud long ago, and she didn't have the medicine she needed to function. Xanax was probably priced llike diamonds these days. So she turned to the one thing that ruined her world to begin with—the zombies.
She'd experienced what it felt like to kill them, and it was so exhilarating. It took all the bad feelings and shot them towards a target, a solution to a problem she couldn't realistically fix. She reasoned in her mind that every re-killed walker was a plus to humanity, and she felt like a super hero. She felt like she finally had control over something, and she was doing something about the situation. One by one, she was hunting them down, even if realistically she was only scratching the surface of an iceberg. She shivered in her boots at the chill, but smiled deviously.
She was headed towards the ravine where she'd found the ones from the day before—where Sam found her on her way back home. She was anxious about leaving them but figured he was right, that they'd freeze over and be ripe for the killing when she got back.
It took almost an hour and a half to get there on foot, but she didn't want to wake the horses or the group, and it was easier to sneak out alone. They wouldn't be getting up until around 9 anyways, so she figured a good four hours was enough time to get the job done.
When she got to the ravine, she smiled as she observed her prey. And wasn't that a darkly humorous thought, that she was the predator now. They'd spent months running from these fuckers when they should've been fighting back. But then again, they did have a toddler in their group so maybe it was wise to just lay low and keep moving. But not anymore. Not Santana.
She sat down and prepared herself for the kill. She pulled one of the trash bags out and punched a hole in it so she could fit her head through, protecting her coat from splatter. She then pulled out her machete and laid it beside her in the snow. She got the mask properly fastened to her head, picked up her weapon, and slid down into the ravine. She let out a dark laugh as she sized them up.
"Hmm, I guess Sam was right, huh? You look like a fucking halloween yard mannequin." She sneered, shifting the machete in her grasp. She stood back and lifted her arm for the first swing, hacking into the stiff corpse. There was minimal splatter as the insides were frozen. "Well, that's different. I actually prefer this." She said. "Maybe I'll hunt in the mornings from now on."
She raised the machete again and with all the force she could muster, sliced off its head.
—AP—
The sun was shining when Quinn rose from the bed, her body for once not protesting. It wasn't physical discomfort that made her rise early this morning, but the nagging feeling that some shit was planning on hitting a fan sometime very soon. Mike, Santana, and Sam were all very high on her suspect list, and she found it somewhat funny that Jesse and Rachel—the most dramatic people she knew—were not involved in the drama this time. Jesse was probably sprawled out in bed, drooling on his pillow and dreaming about starring in a Sondhiem production. Quinn smiled down at her snoozing girlfriend because she'd bet her last dollar that Rachel was dreaming the same exact thing.
It was creepy at first, how much alike they were. After she got over the jealousy—okay she didn't really get over it so much as they gave her nothing to be jealous about—she realized that their connection was not unlike her own with Santana. They were just so much alike that they made fabulous friends, and would be close regardless of their failed relationship. She let out a quiet laugh at their group dynamic because Sam and Mike were BFFs for life as well. It really worked to their advantage.
Quinn planted a kiss atop Beth's sleeping head, and then whispered one across Rachel's lips before heading towards the shower. She had to be prepared because today—today was about reconnaissance. She had to find out what was going on with their group and then throw the cards on the table at dinner and make them confess everything. Sue Sylvester had some pretty insane methods of interrogation, but Quinn wasn't afraid to use some of her methods of gathering intel. She was head cheerleader, after all. She was exposed to the crazy on a daily basis for long periods of time. She was obviously going to absorb some of it. She stripped herself of her jammies—a tee shirt and some sweats—and immersed her body into the warm water as she planned her attack.
—AP—
When Sam got up, he wasn't surprised to find that Santana wasn't inside the cabin. He figured she'd maybe beaten him out to the horses again for an early start. He briefly thought about what happened between them the day before, but decided not to dwell on it so things wouldn't be awkward this morning. Maybe he could even talk to her about it. He put on his clothes and jacket, and headed out towards the storage room where the horses slept. They couldn't risk tying them up outside leaving them vulnerable, or having them run away, so they were lucky that the storage room was big enough to lock the horses in over night.
"Morning, bro" Sam said as he reached the kitchen. Mike was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him. It looked like he hadn't even sipped it.
"Morning." Mike grunted.
"Ooookay..." Sam smiled. "I'm heading out back. I think Tana beat me to the horses this morning.. again." He said as he fiddled with the coffee maker. He never could quite figure it out so he gave up and sat across from Mike. Mike took pity on him and slid his untouched cup to a grateful Sam. "Thanks."
Mike frowned. "I don't think Santana's—do you need an extra hand?"
Sam raised an eyebrow at the cutoff. "Uh, sure. What don't you think about Santana?" He asked as he sipped the warm coffee.
Mike winced. He certainly didn't feel he had the audacity to rat Santana out, but Sam would figure it out anyways when he got outside. But still.. "I dunno dude, nevermind. Just let me get dressed and I'll come with you."
When they got to the shed, neither of them were surprised to see she wasn't inside.
"You knew she wouldn't be here, didn't you?" Sam murmured as they opened the storage room to find three half-awake horses. "Do you know where she went?"
Mike sighed. "No. I don't." Was all he said in response as he got to work, rousing and preparing to saddle the horses. He ignored Sam's eyes watching him.
Sam bit his lip in frustration. "I don't get it, man. I know somethings up with you. I thought we were bros. Why do you keep acting like you've got some deep dark secr.." he trailed off before his eyes widened. "Dude, you havent—you haven't been bitten, have you?" He asked shakily.
Mike stopped what he was doing and faced his friend. "No. I'd never hide that. Just.."
"Then what, man, what? I know there's something. Did you have to shoot someone on your mission with Quinn? Did you encounter a horde or something that spooked you? What?" Sam yelled. He didn't understand why Mike was being so weird. Mike was the one person in his life that understood he needed things to be straightforward and simple. He could handle bad news, he just needed it to be honest as uncomplicated as possible. Right now he wanted to pull his hair out.
Mike warred within himself. He could tell Sam. He had to tell Sam. Sam would understand. "I found a message from Tina." He finally blurted into the chilled air.
Sam's heart skipped a beat. "Is she—is she okay? When?"
"Yesterday." Mike gulped. "I-I was searching the EON for any news about the status of Ohio and.. there was a post there from her. She's—She was in Columbus with a group from Lima. That was a month ago.." Mike was shaking a little as he spoke and Sam could see that he was totally conflicted inside.
"Dude. I'm—well this is good, right? We know she's—she's safe and.. not alone." Sam tried. He didn't know how to process this information just yet, but hearing that Tina was alive had to be a good thing for Mike, right? So why was he... "Mike, are—is there something else, man? You don't look happy at all." He knew he'd be ecstatic to hear from Mercedes, but it'd been impossible to find her on the Los Angeles forum. There was too much chaos with such a huge population and he couldn't do anything with chaos. He'd tried for his family in the Tennessee forum but came up with nothing. He swallowed down the guilt that followed the discovery.
"I—Sam I have to go to her." Mike sniffed. "I'm going crazy here. I'm safe and relatively comfortable here with you guys and I—what if she needs me?" He asked. There were tears streaming down his face and Sam felt a little defenseless in that moment.
"So you're—what are you gonna do?" Sam asked uneasily. He had a feeling what Mike would say.
"I've gotta go to her." Mike murmured. "I'm leaving the group."
Sam's breathing increased rapidly "Mike you—bro you can't. How would you even? You can't!"
"What if it was Cedes? What if you heard from Cedes, Sam? Wouldn't you do anything you could to—"
"MERCEDES IS DEAD!" Sam screamed, startling the horses. "She's gone! My girl is gone! I know because they put a quarantine block on Los Angeles because it was a disaster there! My family is probably dead too! I—" Sam choked on his tears, and let out a sob. "I know its selfish, but I can't lose you too, Mike. If you go, the odds are stacked high against you. I'll have no one left. You're all I have left."
Mike sniffed and wiped his face with his shirt. He stumbled forward and hugged Sam tightly. Telling Sam was the worst idea he's ever had. "I'm sorry bro." He murmured into his best friend's ear. "I'm sorry."
—AP—
"Shit." Santana mumbled as she dropped the last limb into the pile. It was already past eight and she knew she was going to be late getting back to the cabin. She pulled off the gloves and tossed the on the ground, douseing them in the Chlorine solution. Next she did her machete, before finally her boots. She then pulled the bag over hear head and off her body, tossing it onto the pile, and then finally the mask which she cleaned with the solution. After everything she used was clean, she packed it up into the bag and then pulled out the lighter fluid and a box of matches.
The flames reflected in her eyes as she watched it burn.
—AP—
When breakfast was served, the suspects were no where to be found. Quinn, Rachel, Jesse and Beth sat awkwardly at the table, waiting to see if the rest of their group would show. Quinn hadn't considered that they could be plotting together, and she cursed herself for overlooking that possibility. Sue Sylvester would've considered that from the start. She narrowed her eyes at Beth, as if she too were in on it. Beth scrunched up her face in an adorable attempt to mimic Quinn, causing Quinn to laugh.
"Potty, Quinn!" Beth announced with a smile, causing Jesse and Rachel to trade looks and Quinn to spring into action.
"Potty? Okay! Just.. just hang tight!" She laughed as she swiftly grabbed Beth and carried her to the bathroom by her arms, her little legs dangling as she giggled. Beth liked this game. Each time she announced "potty", Quinn would rush her to the bathroom and they'd stare at each other until Beth wanted more juice. The best part was the juice!
"Well, I know its rude but I'm starving, and these grits are calling to me." Jesse said, as he shovelled a spoonful into his mouth. Rachel watched as he took some sugar and mixed it into his bowl. She then looked at her own plate and shrugged, digging in. They'd waited an hour already.
Back in the bathroom, Quinn was glaring at a giggling Beth. "How come you never actually potty when you say you need to?"
Beth shrugged.
"Hmm.. maybe you just need more juice?" Quinn smirked.
Beth nodded with a smile.
"Ha! I'm on to you, Beth Fabray Corcoran. I know this game. You'll pretend to need the potty so I'll give you juice, then you'll just go in the pull-up again!"
Beth laughed and shook her head. Quinn raised an eyebrow.
"How about this, Bethie. I'll get you that juice you want, and raise you a pack of fruit snacks if you tee-tee in the potty today. For real. Deal?"
Beth considered this deal. It was enticing. Quinn saved the last box of fruit snacks for special circumstances since they hadn't gone for a food run in a while. Beth really wanted those snacks. "Okay," she nodded.
Quinn cheered internally. She lifted Beth from the toilet seat and fixed her clothes. "Okay. Now remember! If you have to potty, where do we go?"
"In the bathroom!" Beth responded.
"That's right. And what does Beth get if she uses the potty today?" Quinn smiled.
"Fruit snacks!" Beth squealed. Quinn couldn't help but shower her in kisses and praises and love. At least things were easy with Beth. The smile on her face dropped as she glanced out the bathroom window while fixing Beth's clothes.. the light from the weapon glinting into her eye from hundreds of yards away.
