We hit an abandoned town later in the day. When we were walking through an old sewage plant, where tangled pipes came out of the ground and overgrown plants had consumed the building, Miles split off from the rest of us. We kept walking, but I turned and watched him disappear behind a small corner of a separate building.

Only seconds later we heard the commotion, and Miles and a young man came rolling down the stone steps leading to the road, each struggling for control. A punch was thrown, but I lost track as the rest of them ran in front of me, rushing to break up the fight. I let them go, following at a jog.

The boy -or young man, really- seemed familiar as Miles shoved him against the wall. Charlie caught his arm before any more damage could be done, and she shoved the boy away.

Nora and Aaron each grabbed one of Miles' arms, holding him back as he called, "How long have you been following us?"

"A while. You just notice? You must be getting old!" the boy called.

And then I placed him. Seeing him training on base, in the militia. Just a teenager when he started out. His face rounder and softer, his eyes not as aware. And I remembered who his father was. What to do? Kill him? No. I'd be no better than Neville. I could certainly find a way to use him, though. I caught him looking at me for only a second before he turned his gaze away.

Miles called, exasperated, "He's a spy, Charlie! He's Militia!"

"What the Hell do you care!? You're leaving!"

He was silent. I looked over, only a tiny bit shocked. Surely, I wasn't expecting him to stick around for me, but I thought he was gonna stick with Charlie.

Maggie moved forward and produced a pair of plastic cuffs. "We'll bring him with us."

Neville's son held out his hands. "Fine with me. I'll just be able to keep a closer eye on you." I caught him watching me again. Maybe he placed me, or maybe he was just nervous because I was staring at him.

"Let me help you out there, kid," I snapped. I rolled my sleeve up. "Yes, you know me." I showed the spot where my brand had been. That I'd cut through and scarred even more, to get rid of.

"Thanks. Been trying to place you for a week, now."

"You're welcome." I was courteous. I didn't know if Miles would recognize the boy or not, but for the moment I'd keep quiet.

Miles started back up the steps. Charlie started to follow. "Where are you going?"

There was a hint of desperation in her voice, than almost seemed to say, Don't leave yet.

"Oh, I'm going to get my sword. If that's okay."

She scowled at him. She fell into step beside me as we started walking again. Neville's son was at the front of the group. Miles and Maggie brought up the back. As we went, the silence told me that clearly, Charlie had something to say.

"Whatever it is, you can say it," I said gently.

"Well, he's leaving." Her voice held misdirected anger that I'd had plenty of at her age, so I let it slide. "Are you gonna go with him?"

I blinked. "It hadn't crossed my mind."

"She probably will," Neville's son volunteered, a smugness to his voice that somehow came through in his walk.

"Shut up," I snapped. "Don't presume to know me just because you've been watching for a few days."

"So? Are you going or staying? Because you don't owe us anything, but the four of us might not be able to get my brother back on our own."

"After... lots of careful thought and consideration in the past few seconds... consisting mostly of the fact that I kill lots of people on a daily basis but don't necessarily want your deaths on my hands, but at the same time don't really want my own death on my hands -or yours- and considering that I'm here for revenge and that isn't your goal, and that this was pretty much impossible to begin with, even when you had me and Miles, not to mention that-."

"You're stalling," she said.

Blunt. I liked Charlie. She was a smart girl, who made her mistakes like all young people did, but learned from them. "I really respect you, you know? You're strong, and nobody had to teach you how to be that way." I gave a little huff of a laugh. "And you're not cold the way that we are. Don't lose that."

"I get it." She looked down. Another person leaving. I knew that feeling. I stopped letting people leave a long time ago, by not loving anymore.

"No you don't." I shook my head, smiling. "I mean that when we get to Philadelphia, I'll do the killing. You can just stick to rescuing."

She couldn't hide a smile.

The night was dark. The only light was coming from the torches we'd stopped to make, which threw orange light on the cement ground of the street we were walking.

A growl came from in front and we all froze. Miles tossed his torch to the ground. It skittered, throwing light onto three dogs feeding on the corpse of a deer. One snarled, its lip curling over red teeth.

"Run."

We all turned and bolted back the way we'd come. Barking came from behind, almost drowned out by the sound of our feet hitting the cement and my blood pounding in my ears. I was gasping as we hit the fence. I'd gotten there first, and as I jumped up and grabbed the top bar, finding a foot hold, I stopped and turned, offering Charlie my hand. She grabbed it and I yanked her up. Helping Maggie up next, my mind was spinning.

What the Hell? They're coming. Get over the fence, you idiot!

But I kept one arm hooked over the other side. Jason's hands were still bound, so he was struggling to pull himself up. One foot slipped and he nearly lost his grip, but I grabbed his arm, letting him grab on again. Miles and Nora were both over. Only Aaron chucked his bag over and grabbed on. Then he let out a cry as one of the dogs reached the fence and bit into his calf, dragging him back down.

"Aaron!"

The dog whined before I could jump down, falling away. Aaron scrambled over with my help and fell hard with a thud, gasping for breath. Looking back as I finally swung one leg over, I saw that Maggie had grabbed Charlie's crossbow.

I dropped down, landing in a crouch. We helped Aaron limp along until again, there was barking coming from behind us. We were at the cross roads of a town, with a mini-mall in the distance.

"The diner," Miles said, catching his breath as he helped Aaron.

We ran. Just as we slipped inside the building, Charlie turned back out the door, looking frantically. "Where's Maggie?"

I dragged her in and shut the door as two dogs hit the glass, snapping and barking. Their ears perked up and they were suddenly still, then they turned and dashed away.

"We have to go find Maggie!" she called.

"Stay here," I instructed.

Miles drew his sword and followed me out. I led the way quickly and silently in the direction the dogs had gone, stopping for a second when a yell came from that direction. We ran, loping a short distance into the trees before finding Maggie gripping a bloody wound in her thigh. I scanned the area, drawing my sword as Miles sheathed his, then knelt and picked her up.

He staggered ahead and I kept a wary eye, saying, "It's alright, Maggie, You're gonna be fine."

We made it back without incident. Maggie was gasping for each breath, a natural kind of fear in her eyes like she knew.

She's a doctor, I thought. Of course she knows how bad it is. Looks like he cut the femoral artery.

Miles laid Maggie down where she could be propped up against the counter, and she instantly addressed her leg, which was pouring blood.

"Why did he do that?" Charlie asked, pacing and nervously brushing hair back behind her ears when there wasn't any to brush back. Then she took to stroking it, and breathing fast like she couldn't stop herself.

"He said I killed his dog. Listen to me. The femoral artery is severed-."

I looked away. The odds weren't good.

"-I'm losing blood very fast, I need someone to help stitch the artery before I bleed out."

Aaron stuttered, "M-Maggie, no. You're talking about surgery!"

"I'll talk you through it. My bag, over there-."

Miles said to Nora, "Come on. We'll look for another way out. Jump across a few buildings if we have to."

He and Nora went through the kitchen. I looked after them, but in the end, settled beside Aaron as he sifted through Maggie's bag for forceps. Charlie was still pacing. 'Nate' was tied up to the bar across the room, watching with what was probably sympathy.

My hands shook as I dumped some of Miles' whiskey onto the tools to sterilize them, and I said, faking confidence, "I'm not a doctor, but I have some training from the militia in emergency aid and even some experience with botched attempts at surgery."

Aaron squinted, not sure if I was lying. "Really? That doesn't sound like regular training."

"Yeah. I was in a special group of cadets, training to be officers. General Monroe selected me personally above the others."

I fumbled with my belt, removing my sword to make a tourniquet above the wound on Maggie's thigh.

"And this experience?" she asked, her accent thick and charming. "How did those surgeries go?"

"Well... they were both on the same person. Friend of mine. He was still alive, last I saw him, two years ago."

"That's reassuring."

"Yeah." I grabbed the forceps and told her to brace herself. It was oddly surreal, sifting through the blood gushing from her leg to find the artery, with only the faintest memory of what they were supposed to look like. Aaron held her hand.

I had just secured it when a scream came from behind us. I turned just in time to see Charlie's feet disappearing over the counter, and to see Neville's kid yelling, "Charlie!"

I stole a glance back at Maggie, but I was already standing.

"Go!" she yelled.

Nate was struggling at his bindings. "Cut me loose, I'll help you!"

"Not for your father's life would I cut you loose." I grabbed my sword and sprinted after the muffled screams, jumping over the counter probably a little over-zealously. I reminded myself that I wasn't Rambo, and ran, turning a corner to a door that led to stairs, heading down into a basement. At the first step I felt a small tug of a trip wire that I'd charged right through, too worried about what horrific things could be happening to the girl. There was only time for a single thought before the explosion knocked me down the stairs and blackness hit like a truck.

You're better than that. Idiot. And now you're dead.