Z leads Josie from the shopping center into a sort of food market, lined with abandoned carts and caravans filled with long expired food. The stench of rot turns her stomach unpleasantly, and she delicately holds a hand to her nose. Z walks ahead of her, and she quietly watches the impressive slide of the muscles in his back as he walks.

He rounds a corner, disappearing from sight. Almost immediately, he steps back, reaching a hand out to halt her in her tracks. Josie makes a sound of surprise, so he cups a hand over her mouth as well. Pressed so closely, she's suddenly aware of the considerable heat pouring from him.

Disgruntled, she pulls his hand away. Her skin tingles where he'd willingly touched her for the first time. "What is it?" She whispers. If he was worried, surely she should be.

A piercing laugh answers, echoing from where Z had stepped back from. Curious, Joce creeps forward. Z reaches out a protective hand, intending to pull her back but she only peeks around the corner, so he lowers his hand.

A deteriorated man and woman laughed uproariously as they beat at a burning trash can with bars of steel. "Make it bleed!" Shrieks the woman manically. Beyond, Josie can see a rectangular sheet of paper tacked onto a brick wall. The map, and her ticket out of here.

"Hell," Josie mutters, dragging a hand through her matted hair. "What do we do?"

Of course, Z says nothing. She sits back against the wall. "We can't fight them. I don't want to partake in anymore violence. Let's just wait until they leave… ok?" Z stares at her. Josie uncomfortably pulls at a loose thread in her dress. "Ok." She answers herself. Z stands, looking down at her. "Come, sit down." He lumbers forward and does as she says almost immediately. She quirks a brow but dismisses it. She looks up at him as he sits with a huff. He's so large, even sat down as he is he towers over her. His dark eyes slide toward her and she looks away quickly, her cheeks staining red for reasons she can't imagine.

A couple of hours pass and still the deformed man and woman beat at the can, their sounds of merriment echoing. What were they made of? Aren't they exhausted? Josie doesn't have time for this…

She turns to where Z rests his head against the stone wall, his eyes lidded. "Z?" She requests his attention. Immediately, he looks to her, his head tilting. She pauses before speaking, still unused to the complete attention he gave her. "Do you think we could sneak…" She pauses. The laughter has subsided, leaving complete silence in its wake. "Oh." She murmurs, looking around the corner. The square is abandoned. She searches thoroughly for perhaps three minutes. With a wide smile, she turns to Z. "They're gone! Come!" She gets up and trots quietly through the square, winding through rotting wood and debris.

She can hear Z walk behind her, considerably quieter now that his suit is gone.

Josie can see the map come closer when a peculiar sweeping sound reaches her hearing. It all happens within the span of a breath. One moment, she is taking a step forward, the next she is pulled back with unimaginable strength as something metallic swings mere inches from where she'd been standing.

Z hauls her back, gripping the back of her dress, and tosses her behind him as the splicer giggles, righting the pipe she holds. "C'mere girly. I like that dress, real pretty! Give it to me!" Josie scrambles backwards as the woman lunges toward her, rearing back the metal pipe.

Josie gasps and falls back, but she needn't have worried.

Z catches the pipe, grabbing the woman's hand and crushing it in his grasp. Her shriek is cut short when he socks her right in the jaw, throwing her backwards. She lands against the ground, her neck bent at an odd angle.

Josie raggedly gasps, holding her chest where her heart beats a staccato rhythm. She doesn't have long to revel in her shock, though, because an arm suddenly winds itself around her throat, dragging her backwards. The male splicer.

Z turns and roars, lumbering forward towards Josie's struggling form. The man holding her hushes Z, wielding a knife to her throat. "Hush now, big guy. Your gal here is wanted, y'see, by Isaac. So go on, find yourself another squeeze. This one's taken." At the name of that awful man's name, Josie cries out. "No, please. Don't take me back to him!" The wretched man giggles and grabs Josie's chest with rough movements, palming her through her dress.

Z roars angrily, pausing the man. "Didn't you hear me, bud? Git out of here." When Z only paces like a lion in a cage, the man assesses Z, squinting at his large stature. "Oh… ooohoho, get a load of this! You're Isaac's dog, ain't ya? Out of your suit! Ha! I didn't think you'd have a face."

The man leans down and breathes into Josie's ear, his putrid breath making her nauseous. "Isaac isn't going to be too happy when he sees what you did with his dog. No, not happy at all." Z's eyes, usually void of all emotion or even thought, are darting between the two, clearly at a loss of how to handle himself.

Josie grips the man's arm and breaths deeply, her muscles tensing. The man is slowly walking them backwards, intending to take her from Z's sight. She holds the massive guardian's worried gaze then imperceptibly nods.

With speed she didn't know she possessed, she yells and kicks backwards, her heel striking giving flesh. The knife at her throat nicks her flesh shallowly as she rushes towards Z. He dashes forward, Josie ducking under his arm as he charges the man.

Z lands against the man, crushing him to the ground under his weight. The man pushes at him but he grabs his shirt and pulls him back before slamming him into the ground and dazing him. Z rears his fist back, ready to give a fatal blow. A weight halts him.

Josie hugs his arm, halting it from descending to deliver a fatality. He could easily throw her from him, or rip his arm from her, but he doesn't. He looks up at her, tilting his head. "Please," she gasps, "please, no more death. Let's just go." He holds her gaze somberly, then pulls his arm from her. He gets up slowly, looking down at the sprawling man with disdain.

Josie walks towards the broken man, grabbing the knife from where it had clattered to the floor.

"You better stay away from me!" Yells the man, "Keep that freak from me!" Josie raises a brow as he begins to struggle backwards. Z instinctively halts his retreat, placing his foot onto the man's chest and leaning his weight heavily.

The man gasps for breath as Josie walks forward, showing him the knife. "He ain't no freak," she growls, her accent tinged by the south rising with her anger.

The man gazes fearfully at her.

With the butt of the knife, she strikes his temple with all her strength. The man goes still, unconscious.

Sighing softly, she steps back. Z looks at her through his loose locks of hair, still leaning his weight against the limp body.

She smiles softly at his searching gaze. "You saved my life. Again. Thank you, Z." He only holds her gaze for a moment before quickly looking away, turning to examine the market square. She smiles softly. It seems he is uncomfortable with any form of kind emotion. Josie giggled softly. She'd have to rectify that.

"Let's go."


Which pov do yall prefer? J's or Z's? This one was kept relatively neutral, not choosing either, but I intend not to write that way again. Let me know (rvw or pm, idc) and thanks for reading ;)