A/N: Hopefully as the holidays have now began I'll be able to update more regularly, last chapter was what it said in the title a mere set up of things to come. I'm glad you guys liked it though as I felt like it dragged on and some of things I wanted in last chapter got pushed back to this chapter, so hopefully you guys enjoy this!

ffapathy- I'm glad you pointed out the whole Brandon and Terri aren't having sex and that the note was mere taunt and not someone actually knowing about Brandon's thoughts (considering his told no one) Also as for Clementine and Luis... yep you can certainly say that their polar opposites for now and Luis and Sarah bring out the optimistic side of Clementine. One we don't see much in the game (or in season 2 at least). Finally you made a lot of good points but I loved your analysis on JJ, whereas the other teens all have someone to rely on JJ hasn't really got anyone other than his granddad who doesn't really understand/help with his condition. Whereas JJ is meant to be a defence persona one who appears happy and friendly to others. Whereas TT is when JJ's true thoughts/frustrations and anger come to surface, you'll certainly see some more JJ developments in future.

The Rose of Hedylogos- Thanks for your review, to see you praise my OC's so much means a lot as they were a challenge to write in 2000 days but I feel like they've grown since then and are much easier to write as they each have their own unique characteristics, and as for Clementine and Luis... you're right that nothing will happen between them anytime soon, however I like the prospect of Luis being protective of her. and nick and stef? Well a cat is good too I guess... glad you're liking Stacy, she's interesting to write about and finally, yes the 10 chapter rule is back. In Chapter 10 something big will happen...

catwoman- I love how a lot of people have pointed out how buying a ring would be kind of stupid considering the price and how it could be used on food instead. I'll address the issue this chapter, but right now I'll put it down to Nick being romantic and wanting to Woo Stef. (But, I like the thought of them sharing doughnuts)

Kristal Dynamite- I like that you pointed out Wellington's mindset, a murder in Wellington means a lot whereas in the outside world it's kind of expected. About when shit goes down (it always does) there will be major decisions the characters have to make, however I can't reveal if it will be Eddie making those choices. Also I love Gollum too and whenever I write TT I always see him as Gollum so he is fun to write about and I'm elated you like Stef! She's featured a lot more in this story so far than I originally planned, before shit goes down I'll try to develop more of the existing and new cast.

and thanks to everyone else for you reviews!


Father Jordan really didn't want too.

He didn't know whether it was just his curiosity that propelled him forward, or some sort of supernatural entity. But as he stepped over the long lime green strands of damp grass, that lay over each other like a mangled cobweb in the pitch black graveyard, he knew that with every step he took, he was getting one step closer to a very real danger.

The crescent moon was almost had an unnatural yellow hum too it, as Father Jordan looked up at it, his brown eyes widened in anxiety as he took another dangerous step forward. The shadow of the large church behind him chilled him to the bone and blocked out any of the street-lights from the road opposite. A normal man would have blindly stumbled around in this pitch black deathtrap, crashing into tombstones and cursing themselves. But Father Jordan knew every pebble of this graveyard so even without his eyesight to guide him, he stealthily crept over the crooked graves of Wellington's deceased.

Some of these graves had been here years, before the dead had started rising again. Father Jordan wondered (if by some crazy means) the remains of the people below him who had went unchecked, were stirring in the damp wooden boxes. The remains that may as well have been skeletons, with scraps of flesh and hair still dotted on their white bones, he wondered if they still moved and groaned and emitted those horrible moans that still made goosebumps explode over the African american man's skin.

Trying to blot out the mental image of an army of skeletons breaking out of the ground, Father Jordan ploughed onwards.

As he approached where he knew the morgue would be, his thoughts lingered on Amelia Stool, the woman he had got pregnant... he still questioned how the hell it had happened. He was just tired of playing the game and Amelia was an attractive woman and was a regular attendant at his church, she was just there for him. He knew she had a boyfriend and yet he made his move regardless and she didn't resist, the brown haired beauty even went along with it, but the risks outweighed the advantages, so... she had to go.

Father Jordan just wished he could hack off his own manhood sometimes, not only would he would be serving penance for him hiring those hit-men to kill Amelia, but it would also prevent the sinful, lustful feelings that circulated in his mind. Approaching the morgue, he realised maybe his overwhelming sense of self-loathing had driven him to venture into possible danger. But also his curiosity... who was that man? The Wellington Wolf? and how the hell did he know so much? How did he know about Amelia? He was 100 per cent sure neither he nor she had told a single soul...

He gulped as these thoughts faded in his head, the imposing stone steps that led into the darkness of the morgue below him were in his poor vision.

Inhaling deeply, the cowardly priest mustered whatever sort of inner courage he had, and took the first step into the darkness.


Despite the darkness above him, the morgue was well lit, the second Father Jordan closed the door behind him, automatic lights flickered on. The morgue was built in the graveyard so bodies could be quickly transported for funerals (which, as of late, had been handy) Father Jordan found it strange how modern the morgue looked in comparison to the 19th century church and cemetery surrounding it.

The morgue consisted of a cluster of rooms, on every wall, the haunting coffin shaped holes in the walls gave Father Jordan shudders. Some of them had bodies inside but thankfully they were all covered in white blankets. Father Jordan slowly crept from room to room, not really knowing what he was looking for. But knowing full well that the wolf needed to do something in the morgue and Father Jordan was determined to find something... to get to the bottom of the mystery.

He searched all the rooms, he felt his stomach turn to lead when he saw the fresh corpse of Edith laid out on an autopsy table. Her face was pale, a hole in the middle of her head had been cleaned of blood, but it was still a haunting site never the less. Father Jordan searched every room and yet there was nothing, no trace of anyone moving anything.

Then, of course there was that one locked door.

He knew he'd find something horrible inside, he knew the wolf had used the keys to lock himself in there and if the room was still locked... then surely the Wolf couldn't have still been in there? It was middle of the night, what the hell was he doing? Father Jordan always kept a spare set of Morgue keys on him, in case he lost the first set of keys. It seemed as if the wolf had left the rest of morgue open, all except for that one room.

Father Jordan pulled out his keys and opened the door, he dared peek inside as the automatic lights flickered on.

He wanted to scream at what he saw.

In the middle of the room, on the autopsy table, a male corpse was laid spread-eagled on it's back, it's guts pulled clean out of it's body. It was stark naked and Father Jordan saw the bloodied once sterile equipment laid out like lego bricks around the bloody cadaver. The stench of the dead man instantly caused Father Jordan's eyes to water as he gulped down the vomit building in the back of his throat. For whatever reason he felt his feet move of their own accord as his hands (on autopilot) closed the door behind him, he was alone. In this room with a torn up corpse.

Picking up a surgical knife, plastered in blood, on the floor next to him. The terrified priest proceeded towards the body, trying hard not to look at the gory torn up stomach, instead he recognised the pale face of the dead man, his eyes were still open a fraction. They were very noticeable green eyes and the man had very muscular arms and sleek brown hairs, brushing his fingers against the man's cold flesh and dry stubble, Father Jordan uttered the name of the man lain there.

"Ryan..."

The brutish construction worker, who had died at the wall about 2 days ago lay in front of him. Why would the Wellington Wolf want to rip up his corpse like this?

He closed Ryan's green eyes, it was only then he realised he must have been imaging the green in Ryan's eyes, as he had turned into a walker before his death and henceforth the colour would have drained from his iris'. Sighing Father Jordan remembered how lively and active Ryan was in life, a man of motivation, the life in his leaf green iris was infectious. It was impossible to imagine him simply lying here, as dead as dodo in a surprise attack.

Uttering a quick prayer under his breath, Father Jordan looked around his eyes were drawn to a microscope propped up on glass table to his right. Approaching the table, he thought about it all. At first the wolf had killed loners, people no one had cared about, yet now he seemed to be going for the more popular and well-loved members of Wellington's society. Ryan and now Edith... was the president himself next? Or maybe not the president himself was hardly ever seen in public.

Squinting, Father Jordan peered down the microscope to see a clumps of what he could only describe as bacteria, tiny blobs that moved and attached to one another.

"It's how the infected blood looks"

Father Jordan would have screamed, but he already felt a knife at the back of his neck, that degraded his scream to a mere whimper, as he trembled all over.

"Drop it father"

The knife crashed to the bloodied ground, falling from Father Jordan's sweaty palms. He knew the Wellington's Wolf voice, the mid-western accent.

"Good" The Wellington Wolf uttered, before he leaned into Father Jordan's ear "Now, watch this"

Father Jordan's eye was practically glued to the lens of the microscope, he felt the wolf move from behind him but he knife remained trained on the back of his neck, one sudden movement and it would all be over. Father Jordan would simply be a pale, bled out corpse, lying in the morgue next to Edith and Ryan. He trembled at the thought, after everything he had done to stay alive...

Father Jordan felt another knife slice across his hand, leaving a small cut, grimacing in pain the father watched his own drop of lighter coloured blood drop next to the infected blood. He watched as his own blood cells were instantly swallowed by the larger and darker infected blood cells. Within two minutes the blood that had dripped from his system had turned a shade of much darker red. It was like watching milk spill into clear water, on how quickly the de-colouration of his own blood had occurred.

"It spreads fast" the wolf told the terrified priest the obvious fact.

"I-is..." Father Jordan trembled before finding his voice, "Is that why you chopped up Ryan, back there?" he turned to face the wolf, but he felt his head get forced back towards the lens of the microscope.

"Don't turn around" The wolf growled.

Father Jordan obeyed the order.

"Now" the wolf began in a much more crisp tone "I chopped up Ryan to make 100 per cent sure, that he wasn't immune..."

"So you are looking for a cure!" Father Jordan exclaimed before he could stop himself. He expected his throat to be silt there and then, but the wolf only chuckled and it was with this chuckle that Father Jordan realised he had heard this man's voice before! Not just as the wolf but... he now knew the identity of the wolf. A powerful man, someone who had contacts high up... it should have been obvious from the start! Yet Father Jordan played dumb and allowed the wolf to continue speaking.

"You've been hearing rumours" the wolf said "Yes, they are true. I am looking for a cure and I was certain Ryan was the one..."

"How?" Father Jordan knew he was prying far too into the wolf's business but he had to ask these questions. His curiosity had reached a peak. The Wolf remained silent for a while but finally said "Look at the blood, it will give you a hint".

The African american man did so, it was then he realised something.

"Before Ryan died" Father Jordan began, his voice quivering as he spoke "H-he was taken to A and E beforehand because he cut his arm on a piece of glass. I h-heard it from a friend who works near the hospital..." he gulped before he continued "S-so you j-just went around randomly taking blood samples from pieces of glass...?"

"This test worked" the wolf replied flatly, point blank ignoring Father Jordan's direct question, before he ploughed on "The blood I supposedly attained from Ryan, it didn't turn dark. The blood cells could fight off the infection, I was certain it would work, but I was wrong..."

"You smuggled in the walker?" Father Jordan knew he was firing questions at the wolf now like wildfire, but he didn't care "How did you smuggle in the walker? What do you mean stay away from the wall? How many blood samples did you collect? Is that you killed all those people beforehand? Were they immune too? Why did you smuggle that second walker near too the other house...?"

The wolf seemed to shuffle slightly cutting the babbling priest off, mid question. He only seemed to answer the last question while ignoring the rest.

"Ryan" he began "Was seen with one other man at the time of his incident with the glass shard" he paused there, leaving Father Jordan to fill the very obvious gap, yet the priest couldn't answer. He wanted confirmation from the Wolf himself, after a full minute of silence the wolf sighed in disappointment "I thought you were cleverer than that father" he huffed "Oscar Williamson, Oscar was seen heading to work with Ryan that morning. I tested to see whether or not he would be immune, it was a far-shot even for me. A desperate attempt to see if Oscar was bitten or not..."

"So you did smuggle that walker in!" Father Jordan cut him off, he felt the knife dig in further into his neck. Father Jordan remained silent, afraid another word would lead to his skin breaking and blood being spilt.

"...and apparently" the wolf growled "Nothing happened, the walker didn't bite anyone, but from what I've been hearing from police reports it seemed likely Oscar's group was trying to hide the fact he was bitten" Father Jordan could almost hear the wolf smile as he leaned in close to Father Jordan's ear.

"I want clarity Father" he muttered "You're smart and you're curious and well respected. You are perfect for me" Father Jordan tensed, already knowing what the wolf wanted from him.

"I could destroy that reputation in a minute" the wolf snapped, clicking his fingers together for an added dramatic effect, that caused Father Jordan to flinch slightly, "I want you to get me proof that Oscar Williamson is immune from the walker virus". he ordered clearly.

"You want me to get a blood sample" Father Jordan stated flatly "You want me to get you this, or else my secret about Amelia comes out"

"Of course" The wolf replied.

Father Jordan felt like he was playing a game far too dangerous, how on earth was he meant to get a blood sample for Oscar? He knew where his group lived but still that didn't help him, what he wanted was some sort of praise and some sort of award, if he managed to accomplish this risky mission.

"and what do I get in return?" Father Jordan asked "What do I get, if I help you find your cure?"

"The cure itself" The wolf responded as if it were enough for Father Jordan, but the irritated priest (despite his fear) let his frustration show as he blatantly snarled "That's all? We're safe in these walls anyway, why do I need a fucking cure for?"

The sudden sound of a distant door opening and footsteps clanking along the tiled floor of the morgue, caused the wolf to yank the priest's head away from the microscope. But he still felt the wolf's knife at his throat as the wolf stealthily crept forward, the priest still unable to see the Wolf's face as he muttered.

"Because it's starting" the wolf stayed silent after these words, as he listened by the door. Father Jordan could clearly hear the muffled voices of the forensics who must have been about to perform an autopsy on Edith.

"You're about to learn, why you need a cure" was what the wolf lectured to the listening priest.


"Hey"

Clementine couldn't sleep, and she guessed Sarah had heard her creeping out of her room and followed her to the spot beneath the oak tree, on top of the small tree at the back of their house. The grass swayed lazily, the frosty bite of winter didn't seem to affect Clementine as she had wrapped up warm, with her orange coat and blue scarf, Sarah was dressed in similar winter gear as she sat down next to Clementine. For a while the pair of them simply stared at the crescent yellow moon above them and the white blobs that made up the stars.

"That's the north star" Clementine eventually said, breaking through the silence and jabbing her arm towards the brightest star in the sky.

"It looks pretty" Sarah complimented the star, before she faced her friend once again "How come you're up here?"

Clementine sighed, but didn't give Sarah an answer for a while, however she finally found her voice.

"Back when we were on the run from the cult" Clementine began, hating the fact she was dragging bad memories to the surface once again "Me and Luke, Luke pointed out the north star to me"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Sarah inquired, gazing at the star through her glasses, as if she expected to find an answer.

"That's what I said" Clementine recalled, as a small smile played on her face "But that's the point, it doesn't have to do with anything. It helps me forget everything" she lapsed into silence after this, but she felt Sarah shuffling next to her, as she spoke up "This hill makes me forget about everything" at these words Clementine turned to face her best friend and saw her glasses shining in the moonlight.

"There wasn't any of this trouble at school" Sarah began, as she mused on the olden days "Remember? It was just me, you, Nick, Stef and Lilly, building that snowman..."

"and then Luke came up and tried to sleigh down the hill" Clementine interjected with a chuckle, the fond memory of Luke tumbling down this hill when it was plastered in snow, was one of her favourites.

"and Eddie tried to make that giant snowball...!"

"Rebecca's face when that snowball hit her...!"

The two girls laughed heartily into the night at these memories, managing to calm down slightly Clementine sighed and faced the black town of Wellington behind her. Some lights were still on, Clementine could see their house directly below the hill, she could see into Gertrude's back garden she could also distantly see the american flag waving in the wind at her, from the top of Wellington High. A place she already disliked.

"How do you keep doing it Sarah?" Clementine asked out loud of her friend.

"Doing what?" Sarah inquired, as Clementine shuffled herself closer to the Hispanic bespectacled girl.

"Keep being happy" Clementine mumbled, as she faced the grass below her "Everything Luis keeps telling me, it gets me down sometimes. I try and be positive but it seems to have no effect on him..."

"Ignore him" Sarah advised, as Clementine looked up at her beaming friend "If he doesn't want to be happy, then you can't make him. Life's too short to keep being negative all the time, find people at school that make you happy, that's what I do with JJ" Sarah told her, as she cracked a large smile "You know, I was shocked at the time" she confessed to a listening Clementine "But what JJ did for me, it was so cool" she beamed at the memories, remembering how Nick had saved her multiple times, how Stephanie saved her from Marisol, how Clementine and the group had saved her from the clutches of the cult...

"People who want help you" Clementine uttered to herself, she thought about these words carefully. Coming to a conclusion in her mind.

However before Clementine could ponder on that conclusion, Sarah looked at her once again "If trying to find those people is too hard" Sarah mused before she suddenly pounced on Clementine and began tickling the life out of the 14 year old.

"Then this always works" she panted, as Clementine giggled like the little girl she felt like she was in those moments.

"G-g-get off" Clementine choked, eventually managing to lift Sarah's lanky form of her own, trying to regain her breath as Sarah stared at Clementine, smiling like a maniac.

"You make me happy" Clementine mumbled, after the last of her laughs had expired in her system, at her comment Sarah gave a childish giggle which for some reason made Clementine's cheeks grow warm. Coughing and feeling somewhat embarrassed Clementine felt the need to correct what she had just said.

"The group and you make me happy" Clementine said more clearly, in which Sarah didn't seem to reply too. As Clementine herself let her head droop as she stared at an ant crawling across a long blade of grass, watching it's voyage and trying to concentrate on the tiny insect. Yet she could feel Sarah's wide brown eyes boring into the side of her head and she could tell without even looking at Sarah, that the Hispanic teenager was smiling at her. Her smile seemed to cut through the chilly night air and basked Clementine in a warmth, she could sit all night here, in this silence next to Sarah in this "warmth" trying to forget all the pessimistic crap Luis had force fed her, all the stupid bullies and growing poverty in Wellington, in those moments Clementine forgot about it all.

That was until Sarah suddenly piped up "Hey Clem!" she yelled as the 14 year old span around, to see what Sarah was jabbing her arm at the direction of their house, a tall, dark silhouette was briskly stepping across their front lawn, despite the distance Clementine could tell who it was, without even looking at the man's face.

"What's Nick doing out so late?" Sarah inquired, her eyes trailing after his form, she could tell it was him just by the way he walked.

"Probably been called out" Clementine yawned "Being a police officer isn't a easy job"

However Sarah looked doubtful and shook her head at Clementine's words "If he was going to work" she stated "then why hasn't he got his uniform on?"

Clementine squinted, she couldn't make out the bright golden badge that was usually encrusted on the top of Nick's uniform so he must have been in normal gear. Sarah had already stood up and taking large steps towards where Nick was going.

"Hey!" Clementine exclaimed, as Sarah turned to face her "Where are you going?"

Sarah looked at Clementine as if the African american girl had grown two heads.

"I'm following Nick of course" she hissed, "Come on Clem, we need to hurry up or we'll lose sight of him!"

Clementine shook her head at this suggestion, not really in the mood for a midnight goose chase around the crime riddled town of Wellington.

"We can't follow him" she stressed "It's too late and too dangerous to go out alone, besides..."

"I'll catch up with him" was all Sarah had too say before she took off in a reckless run towards Nick, Clementine yelled "SARAH!" but this had no effect, as the only reply she got from Sarah was the distant "I'll be back in a bit! Tell the others I'm fine!" and with that she was gone, leaving Clementine alone on the hill.

Sighing, Clementine crouched down on the spot once again and gazed up at the north star and then the ant crawling on the grass, Sarah was right this place made Clementine forgot about everything but she only wished her best friend was by her side. As of late Clementine had been craving Sarah's company more and more often, she always had admired how Sarah stayed so positive in light of everything because it was so easy to lapse into depression or panic considering everything that was happening in Wellington. But no, because Sarah was so optimistic Clementine found herself defending her own new found optimistic beliefs, she wasn't stupid she just believed that everyone that had died, from Lee right up to Kenny had died to get her here.

They would have wanted to live, not survive but live for once and that's what Clementine was planning to do. She was 14 now and her body no longer resembled that of the 8 year old she was nearly 6 years ago. No, her childish thoughts had long since died in mind, replaced by different thoughts and sudden mood swings. When she was younger she would never feel this weird feeling she had now. Her stomach wouldn't swirl with butterflies and why would her cheeks grow warm in something she knew was a bit more than embarrassment?

Clementine proceeded back towards the house, wishing Sarah was by her side.


Nick looked at it in disbelief.

The price tag on the cheapest ring was 100 screws over what he had been saving up, despite it being slightly past midnight, Nick saw the wealthiest of Wellington's society congregating in the brightly lit jewellery store. Admiring each other's latest accessories, all of them looked so happy and so slick, in the latest clothes with the best haircuts, and best shoes and...

Nick felt his own hand slide down the glass window of the jewellery store in defeat, his gut sinking.

All his life, not only had he lived in Nick's shadow but he would always be that bit poorer than the other kids. The baggy, ripped clothes, the worn out shoes, his general hygiene at points is what seemed to propel bullies to verbally and physically attack Nick. The majority of Nick tormentors had been wealthy kids, who didn't need to worry about abusive alcoholic fathers, or where there next meal was coming from. They breezed through life seemingly without any troubles, they were always top of the classes, in the best sports teams, best clothes...

Gazing into the jewellery store, it felt like a punch in the stomach for Nick. Despite his hard work in upholding the law, despite all he had been through, this simple image seemed to remind him of where he was in society. The outcast, the freak... all he wanted, for once. Was too show his girlfriend that he wasn't some loser, that he too could afford an expensive ring for her and that for once he was somebody... and not just the the shit on the side-walk.

Nick wasn't gazing anymore, her was glaring at those rich people, without a damn care in the world... they didn't care what he went through everyday to ensure he brought a income to his household. They didn't give a shit about the abuse he received too protect these wealthy people, from the poorest and most rogue in Wellington's society. He was fed up of being their damn guinea pig! He didn't know why him standing here, outside of his jewellery store made his infamous temper bubble to the surface, but it just did because it made him feel just as he had done before he met Sarah, Stephanie, Lilly or the rest of the group.

Like dirt, like he was nothing.

He hadn't cut himself in over two years, but if he pulled up his wrists he could still see the faint scars on where he had once cut himself.

He wouldn't feel that low again.

An obese man caught sight of Nick at the window, Nick quickly averted his eyes to the ground and shuffled off, his unspoken frustration making him even more angry. He intense glare could have burned holes in the side-walk he was walking along...

BOO!

Nick leapt back in shock, "HOLY SHIT!" He bellowed reaching for his gun, realising then it wasn't there, as his heart rate began to accelerate before his blue eyes adjusted and he realised that it was only Sarah, who was laughing openly at him "Y-your face..." she giggled into her hand, as Nick scratched the back of his black hairs.

"Jesus Christ Sarah" he huffed massaging his heart "You nearly gave me a heart attack"

Sarah was about to reply, but that was Nick suddenly realised, what on earth was she doing here? Alone? In Wellington in the middle of night?

"Sarah" Nick began in a cold tone "What are you doing here alone?"

"I saw you" Sarah replied simply "and followed you here, I thought it would be funny to scare you..."

"You came here alone!?" Nick demanded to know, his frayed nerves and anger getting the better of him, Sarah seemed to sense she had angered Nick. But she had grown very accustomed to dealing with his sudden temper as stress from his job had sometimes caused these outbursts, so she nodded her head and braced herself for Nick's angry lecture to her.

"Do you know how fucking dangerous that is!?" Nick snapped at her "With all these murders going down and you think it's okay to wonder out alone at night!?"

"I can look after..." Sarah began.

"NO!" Nick exploded, making Sarah flinch "YOU DON'T! THERE ARE MURDERERS, RAPISTS AND ROBBERS ON THESE STREETS SARAH, THEY'LL KILL YOU OR SHOOT YOU OR GOD KNOWS WHAT ELSE! DON'T BE SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT AND COME OUT AFTER ME!"

Sarah was shocked and hurt by Nick's rant, Nick himself saw the hurt look on Sarah's face and felt a pang of regret he also realised that some of the wealthy from the jewellery store had exited the store and were now staring at him. Cursing himself and feeling his cheeks go red in shame, Nick stormed up the side-walk and Sarah trailed after him, when they were both out of eyesight and hearing range of those wealthy people, Nick turned back to Sarah.

"Sorry" he muttered like a sulky child, before he regained his composure and stood up tall "I was just worried about you, understand?"

Sarah nodded, but didn't reply to him. In which Nick knew he had taken it a step too far, he remembered (with a pang of his gut) the time he had his outburst at Kenny which had led to the Floridian man completely losing it and nearly killing his best friend. His temper really was his downfall and he really wished he could have controlled it more, that rage he felt at those wealthy people, he could tell it would drive him to do something stupid. Sighing he knew he would have to explain himself to Sarah.

"It's just..." he began, as Sarah looked up at him in curiosity "I... I wanted to buy Stef a ring"

Sarah got the hint instantly, as she squealed like an alarm, "Ooooooooooooooohhhhh" in which Nick had to pat the air in front of Sarah muttering "Sarah, keep this quiet..."

"You want to get married!?" She exclaimed, as Nick mentally cursed himself for revealing this information to her.

"Yes" Nick muttered with a baited breath, as Sarah let out another excited squeal, "I want it to be a surprise" Nick muttered, as Sarah remained quiet this time to listen to Nick "So don't tell Stef".

"Of course, I'm really, really good at keeping secrets" Sarah whispered to Nick, as if they were in on a big childish secret, Nick smiled at her, before another frown lined his features "But" he began in a more sombre tone "I erm... I didn't have enough money to get the ring" Sarah looked at him sympathy at these words.

"Is that why you got mad?" she inquired.

"Yeah" Nick responded, as they continued to walk along the side-walk and back towards their house.

"Well then" Sarah began, "You're being stupid Nick, Stephanie doesn't need a ring" this caused Nick to look at Sarah in surprise he was expecting some sort of comfort but he didn't expect her to say this.

"But, I wanted to make it special for once" Nick grumbled to himself, their house was now within view.

"It will be!" Sarah encouraged her friend with a cheery smile "It sounds cheesy, but as long as you're by her side and if you tell her you love her, you won't need a ring" this lecture was met with a short chuckle by Nick. "Since when did you become a love expert?" he inquired of the 18 year old.

"It's just a girl thing" she responded as if it were obvious.

They approached the house, Nick and Sarah joking about boy and girl things on the walk, when they reached the house, Nick turned back to Sarah.

"Remember, keep it secret" he told her.

"Yeah, yeah" she waved him off as if it were nothing.

"and Sarah, thanks" he muttered, because Sarah had a way of putting Nick in a good mood and he needed Sarah to talk too after his earlier anger at being unable to buy the ring.

"No problem" Sarah replied as they entered the house. Sarah always wanted to ensure that her friends would be there for her and that as long as she protected and defended them, they would continue to protect and defend her and she hadn't been proven wrong.

Yet.


"Tomorrow"

The single word had a damming impact on the residents in the room, many of the adrenaline pumped men around the kitchen table, seemed somewhat eager. They remained silent but they way they moved their jittery legs showed they were eager to get going and eager to start actually doing something.

"Why tomorrow?" came a single question, Scott was aware of himself speaking. He was sat stiffly at the kitchen table. Surrounded by at least 20 men and women, all of which had their minds set on a riot. A riot to shake up the way Wellington was run, Scott was a bit unnerved by the sheer numbers that had been drawn to the idea of a riot. Or even a rebellion of sorts to overthrow the current president who seemed to be doing very little, other than making the poor, poorer and the rich, richer.

Scott's black eyes scanned over the room, some of his friends from school surrounded him, Lizzie was sat in the corner her gaze locked on him after he had asked this question. Many people here like her had come from poorer households, some people here were family. But many were mismatched groups of survivors who had bonded together in the outside world before coming here. Scott's group was also similar group.

He remembered escaping the last group he was part of, he was treated like scum in that group. A frightened kid he once was, constantly pushed around and bullied by the members of the group. He was originally with his uncle in this group but his uncle soon died, leaving him alone. Surrounded by unfriendly strangers who had no qualms about hurting or abusing him and over time that only grew worse. Until Scott himself fled, finding a new group of 4 guys. They sort of adopted Scott, after the teenager had spent a while alone, the 5 of them reached Wellington and now here they were.

Jasper, Harry, Joe and Norman, were the names of the 4 friends who had adopted Scott into their group, Scott was like the little brother to the four of them and they weren't bad people. However like many people at this meeting in the moment, their eyes shined dangerously. Hunger and poverty driving them to this state, some of the planned rioters were in such a bad shape they needed to lean on something to support their weight.

Regarding Scott's question, someone near the back of the room stood up.

"Because the Wellington Weekly comes out tomorrow" the man boomed clearly.

"Exactly" Jasper (one of Scott's house-mates) replied.

"But what's the Wellington Weekly got to do with any of this?" a woman asked, just as confused as Scott.

"The Wellington Weekly" the man at the back of the room spoke up once again "Recently released a campaign to stop this poverty. The president point blank refused to sign the petition, as did many others". He drew a breath gazing at everyone as he spoke "I work for the paper, my name's Robert Allen. My son Ryan tried handing out flyers to people, but despite the support we have received there has been no result and no comment from the president" this left an impressed silence in his wake.

"So?" Scott found himself asking "Why's tomorrow's issue so important?"

Robert Allen smiled at him.

"Our editor, Stacy promised that the copy that goes into print tomorrow" Robert seemed to laugh before continuing "It will cause a riot, regardless of whether we were planning a riot or not".

This left a ripple of curious chatter in it's wake, several people from different households had gathered here for news of this riot.

"How can we trust her!?" Someone yelled.

"It's bull!" another man bellowed.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see" was all Robert said, but he certainly seemed confident as he sat down at the back of the room once again. Around Scott he could hear more malicious whispers that made his hairs stand on end. Scott looked down at his cast, had anyone actually made a goal of this riot? Who was actually leading it? So far the motto was simply "Overthrow the president" which was vague enough in it's self. Granted Scott should have been more bothered about the weapons scattered around the room, he felt like he was part of a terrorist group sat here, plotting this. It didn't feel right.

Some people (he could tell) simply wanted change. However Scott got an uneasy feeling about some of the scum that had gathered in the room, under the impression they wanted they wanted change as well. But from they way they were whispering... they simply used this riot as an excuse to unleash pure mayhem on Wellington.

"Where are we meeting?" Scott inquired of anyone who would listen.

"Outside of the The central hub at 11 o clock sharp!" Jasper replied, yet Scott wondered who would actually turn up there. But he also had to wander what would be in Wellington Weekly to ignite a riot this size, if the information was even bound to appear.

"Hang on!" came a yell, that Scott saw came from Lizzie, he whipped around to face the blonde girl, as many eyes found her in the chattering across the room.

"What's the actual plan here?" she inquired "We march up to the president's building and...?"

"and we demand change, if he refuses we get violent" Jasper told her, as if it were as simple as that. Lizzie went to inquire further but the chatter that had built up in the room once again drowned out her voice so no one could hear her, while Scott shook his head. Feeling more unnerved by each passing second at how poorly planned this riot was, there was the motivation behind it. Scott himself would be rioting, despite his cast he was going to show the president that he wanted change. He was fine with murdering or killing the president if need be, he knew what hunger to drive people to do, but what worried Scott is what if they were met with resistance, what if innocents were killed...?

He gulped, everyone just seemed to accept this riot far too easily, he was as hungry and angry as they were. But they needed to clear their heads and actually analyse the situation, there was an excited buzz in the air. Tomorrow something was going to go down, regardless of what the Wellington Weekly posted people simply wanted to cause chaos.

Standing up and approaching Jasper, Scott muttered "Man, I really think this idea is spiralling out of control"

Jasper flashed Scott a devious smile "What? Getting cold feet?" he asked.

"Well... no..." Scott muttered, uncertain of himself in those moments.

"Then go with it" he snapped "We're dying here Scott, fucking dying! and the president isn't doing shit about it! Regardless of whatever the fuck happens tomorrow, things are finally going to start changing!" he gripped Scott's shoulders at this point "We have to let them know we aren't trash! You don't want to be trash, do you?" he looked into Scott's eyes here and Scott thought about all the times he was treated as trash. No, with a new determination he realised he wouldn't be treated as trash, not again.

"No" he uttered darkly.

"Good, get ready to make your voice heard tomorrow" Jasper told him.

However on the other end of the room, an old woman exited the house. She had kept quiet during the meeting but she could tell by the whispers she had overheard that this riot wasn't going to lead to anything good at all. She felt like her stomach had been turned to lead as for one of the only times, fear seemed to have an effect on Gertrude. She hobbled back to her house knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep at all that night.

She was... preparing.


"Nothing" Father Jordan overheard this word from where he was listening in on the forensics who were performing an autopsy on Edith, "Nothing, no problems, no sign of a blood clot in the brain, no chance of a brain defect killing her. Organs were all in good shape..." he paused there, Father Jordan heard one man step across the tiled floor.

"Sir" someone said, his voice sounded shaky.

"Yes" came the reply.

"The... strains we found in the blood sample, show that the virus is mutating and..." he seemed to pause there. Father Jordan seemed to lean on the door to overhear what was said next "It's a weak strain sir" the man seemed nervous as he continued to speak "it can't affect anyone, unless they're 5 feet from the walker..."

"What is it!?" another man growled, a question Father Jordan also felt like screaming too the nervous man on the other side of the door.

"and this..." the wolf suddenly whispered, he had been silent throughout the whole autopsy so hearing him speak once again surprised Father Jordan "is why you need a cure" the wolf words seemed to leave a ringing inside of the nervous priest's head as he heard what was said next.

"The virus is becoming airborne"


Tim saw the car, parked in the middle of the dark woods of Wellington. He had made sure the rest of his group were asleep, after the events of today everyone was particularly restless but finally when the house seemed still enough, Tim was as quiet as he could physically be as he gathered his winter clothing and exited the house. When he was certain he hadn't woken up anyone and that no one was looking out of the window at him, he ran off into the woods, to the spot where he knew Stacy would be waiting for him.

Sure enough her car was parked there, Tim opened the back door and sure enough the redhead beauty was sat there looking bored out of her mind. Her facial expression didn't change when he crawled in.

"Hi" Tim said nervously, he wanted answers from her and he was certain she wanted answers from him.

"Tim" she replied, her cheeriness seemed forced and her smile seemed strained. She made a show of yawning loudly and uttering "You know, I'm bored of our usual routine" she crossed her legs over each other and gazed out of the window "So I thought we'd spice things up" she announced to Tim's great interest.

"Strip secrets is what I like to call it" she muttered, gazing back at Tim with those seductive green eyes that made him drool in a very cartoonish manner.

"So" Tim mumbled, "What are the rules?"

Stacy grinned "I ask a question, you answer it" she informed him "If I'm satisfied with the answer and believe it's the truth I remove my clothes and you can fuck me, same applies your way" she grinned at him. Both of them knew the other wanted answers and Tim muttered "Fair enough" the signal to let the game begin.

"Okay, I'll start" Stacy said, "Was Oscar bitten by a walker?"

Tim knew this question was coming up first, he wondered whether he should have betrayed his group for sex. But what harm could Stacy do? She agreed to keep it secret and he knew that he needed answers as much as she did.

"Yes" he admitted.

Stacy smiled her largest smile, before removing her top and bra, revealing her bare breasts to Tim who soaked up the image with his wide brown eyes. He regained himself and coughed, asking his own question.

"Did you attack Oscar earlier and what did you take?"

"Yes, I took two vials of his blood" Stacy responded, Tim certainly found himself satisfied with this answer as he removed both his trousers and top, leaving him in his black boxer shorts.

"Why did you keep Oscar's Immunity a secret?" Stacy inquired.

"We were scared of what would happen to him. We think the president and some wealthy folk would take advantage of this fact and would cut him up and use him to create a cure, just for themselves" Tim told her honestly she certainly seemed satisfied with this answer, as she removed her pink pants, leaving her nude. The redhead lay seductively on the back seat of the car. Tim felt his impulses take over once again, as he leant over her.

"Final question before we fuck" he gasped, transfixed by her memorizing form as he bent down to kiss her, before the African american man whispered into her ear.

"You promise you're still going to help us?" This was the one thing Tim was doing this for, not just for the sex. Making links with Stacy was a way to save his group from the impending poverty they faced. Stacy looked up at him and whispered "Yes" as Tim grinned, feeling satisfied with this answer as he removed his own boxer shorts. It was only at the last second he realised one of Stacy's arms was behind her pale back added to the fact she was reaching for something under the car seat.

"What the...!?" Tim began alarmed.

"I lied" Stacy mused, a devious smile spreading across her face, before Tim could even move she had whacked him across the head with the baseball bat she had hidden under her seat, Tim felt his vision go black as he collapsed in a heap on the back seat. She pried open the back door and the redhead Journalist rolled Tim's form out onto the leaf strewn ground. She closed the door with a SLAM that made Tim stir slightly and rub his head.

In the car Stacy jumped to the front seat, pulling down the hidden camera she had planted on the windscreen, which had successfully recorded all of what Tim had said, she now had the evidence she needed. Grinning like a maniac she sped off, leaving Tim to face the fleeting form of Stacy's car, his head still felt dizzy and he was lying here naked and ashamed because he knew know, he had played with fire and gotten his whole group burned.

"What have I done?" he croaked to himself, sobbing into the ground.

He had lost this game. Their secret was out.

Stacy herself entered the main office of where the Wellington Weekly was printed merely 15 minutes later. She was fully clothed and had a confident stride in her step. Even at this time some of her workforce were awake and ready to start typing tomorrow's issue and Stacy had the story that would, once and for all end the president's reign of terror and with President Schulz gone the Wellington Wolf would no longer have that shield to hide behind. Stacy was convinced the president was protecting the wolf and when the president fell, the wolf would too.

She gripped the small recording camera in her grip, this was all the evidence she needed to prove their was a immune survivor after all.

In her office her brother leant on her desk, looking very stressed indeed. While a forensic stood next to him, "Miss Moore" he said the second after she walked in "We have informed your brother, but there is a very real danger that we feel needs to be made public as soon as possible".

Stacy took a seat and muttered "I'll be glad to hear it" she told the anxious looking forensic before she turned to her brother.

"Oscar's Immune, isn't he?" Trevor asked.

Stacy nodded "and I have evidence to prove it" she held up the small camera at this point.

Ready to write the story, that would change Wellington forever.