A/N: At first, I wrote this story to give myself closure with FMA. As it's gone along, I've found that it's actually renewed my interest in the series. And, now that I'm back into the series, in a strange way, it's fixed a lot of my actual problems. So, I give a big THANK YOU! To the readers, reviewers, and anyone else who has motivated me to keep the story going. I plan on making it about eight chapters longer.

Reviews Appreciated

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"We'll split into teams of two. Winry – you'll stay at the established safety zones and tend to Lan Fan. Since, you know, you're the only one here who knows anything about that. Ling, you'll go with...well, you'll go with me. May, you're with Al. No funny business, I don't care if you're of a legal age. Mustang and Hawkeye are already paired up and searching the town for undead and supplies. Under their instructioning, you must return to the safety zones by eight at night. That's when all houses in the safety zones will be locked down."

Ed gave that speech as he searched their current residence for anything that could be used as a weapon. Guns would have been fine, if they didn't produce such loud noises. He found a few things that would work, were they actually fighting against humans. Knives, for instance, were virtually useless. So, he searched instead for basic survival equipment. As well, he had Al create a few chemical bombs. He then felt like he was ready, and grabbed the attention of Ling.

"Hey," he spoke softly, so as not to completely kill the silent peace of the house. "You ready?"

"Yeah. It's noon. We have exactly eight hours."

"Okay."

Edward headed for the door. Winry watched him leave once again, this time remaining silent.

"Bye, Winry," he spoke from across the room.

"Stay safe."

"Of course."

She blushed.

"Ed?"

"Yes?" He turned around and saw that, this time, she didn't look worried for him at all.

"I love you."

He paused, and smiled.

"I love you, too..."

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The roads of Dublith were nearly empty, with the exception of hundreds of burnt corpses. Ed was on the roof, acting as a sort of "lookout". Ling, being more adept to fighting as it was, took to the streets below him.

"Up ahead – there's a small group. They don't see you yet."

Ling nodded and ran up ahead, not bothering to be stealthy. He had lightning speed, and appeared only as a blur. He unsheathed his blade. Now, they noticed him, and gave out their low, signalling moans. Of course – those were short-lived.

He leapt into the air, firmly planting his foot into the chest of a foe. Kicking him into instability, he flipped over, planting his blade into its head from above.

From behind, a hand grabbed him. He turned swiftly, yet gracefully, and tugged on the handle of his sword, ripping it from the head of the previous encounter, and stabbing it through the eyes of the new one.

The moans, as was stated in Riza's writings in the journal, were a signal for other undead. More appeared on that road.

"Ling – don't worry about the ones far off. I'll handle them!"

Edward ran towards the edge of the roof, and ripped the top off of his bomb. He immediately tossed it, because it grew hot enough to burn him. It threw itself towards them, and exploded, setting them all on fire, and even destroying some of them completely. Ed caught his breath. Whatever was in that bomb, he'd have to figure out.

Ling continued in his battle. He didn't have a chance to rip the blade out this time – he had to attack now, or else be attacked. He turned to his left, and leapt upwards, above the ghoul, and came down with his feet on both sides of his head. He landed in a handstand, and flipped over. The Zombie, being held onto between his legs, was flung upside down, and into another. They were both knocked over. Ling took this chance to retrieve his blade and implant it into his enemies. He leapt back up to the rooftop.

"Hey," Edward said, looking at the now empty street. "Make sure you clean the blade. Who knows? The disease could spread through blood."

Ling nodded, and wiped the blade against the banner on the side of the building.

"I'll clean it in water when we return. As for now, I think this street is finished."

"Yeah. Me too."

Edward thought for a moment.

"Hey, we need to ensure that they aren't getting in from the border. Follow me."

He ran to the edge of town. There were plenty of undead approaching along the horizon. So, he began his work – setting traps, pouring oil between the buildings, lining them with wire.

"What are you creating?"

"Tripwires. They'll walk into them, and..."

Edward sat a gun along the wire, in the window of an abandoned bakery.

"This will shoot the oil. Thus, causing fire. It would last a while, so long as there were no rain."

"What if there is rain?"

"Then no problem. I'll also set up a voltage wire. No plastic surrounding. Once it's hooked up, it would reach sky high temperatures. No way they could walk through that."

He began to do so, asking Ling to transmute a few things for him now and then.

"Not bad, Elric. Not bad at all."

Mustang approached from behind.

"I'll draw a few more borders for you. Just to show where we'll be sealing off everything."

"Just a question, but why don't you just do that now?"

"Because, then we'd be trapping ourselves."

Ed scrunched up his nose.

"What?"

"Nevermind. Just, don't ask. Continue as you were."

Edward rolled his eyes, and nudged Ling.

"Hey. Let's continue as we were."

"Right."

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Night time arrived quicker than ever, but it was especially hard on the four men on the outskirts.

They had reached the city by now, but they had yet to find a safe way in. Behind them, about an hour away, was a horde compairable to one street in Central.

"Come on, guys, think! How the hell do we get up there?" Breda shouted, looking around frantically.

"Calm down!" Feury yelled back. "You're scaring everyone!"

"Well there's no turning back! And the whole city's surrounded! Damnit!"

He clenched his fists.

"Why can't we just climb one of these buildings?" Falman questioned.

"Do I look like I have any rope?"

Havoc, being the only cool-headed one in the area, for the time being, had an idea. He took off his overshirt and hit it against the building a few times, trying to loosen its stiffness. He also took off his shirt, leaving only a dog tag on his chest. After making the overshirt loose enough, he tied it to the shirt.

"This will be our rope," he said. "Everyone, take off your shirts."

Falman immediately caught on, and did the same. He tied on his end. Feury looked reluctant, but also removed his clothes, tying them along with the other clothes.

The rope wasn't long enough, by only a few inches.

"Come on, Breda. You too."

"No way, man."

"Just take off your shirt."

"NO!"

The Zombies approached ever closer.

"Come on, Breda! Please!"

He groaned and took his shirt off as well, tying it onto the end. Havoc threw the manmade rope to the top of the building, and it caught onto something. Giving it a hard tug, he was sure it would hold the weight. Just in case, he decided to climb first.

"Guys, it's safe!" he yelled from the roof. He tied the rope around himself. "Feury, you go next, since you weigh the least."

Feury shuddered, and climbed it, holding Black Hayate as tight as he could. A couple of times, he almost lost that dog. But, he prevailed, and made it up as well.

"Falman next!"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Breda groaned. The Zombies were around twenty minutes off by now.

"Just hurry up so that we can get Breda!"

Falman nodded, and worked his way up as well. Then, at the top of the rope, they held onto it tightly. This was going to be like tug of war, he thought.

Sure enough, a frightened Breda began to climb it. They had to pull, too, to help him make his way up the building. Panting and exhausted, he laid there for a good twenty minutes.

"We need to keep moving," Feury insisted. "I mean, if that border thing doesn't work, then we should try to make our way to safety. This rooftop is too easy to get onto from down there – there's a ladder that way, and stairs over there. So, this is an apartment or something."

"Then we need to get across the street. But where do you think is safe here?" Falman asked.

Feury squinted, and pointed into the distance, at the island.

"Not quite on the island, but near it – there are lights on. It's six right now, so...we should run. We have just enough daylight to make it there."

"Run?" Breda panted. "You've gotta be kidding me."

They weren't kidding him, and began to climb their way down the building. There were no undead nearby, but they remained on their guard.

"Come on," Feury motioned. "This way."

"Since when did you become a leader figure?" Havoc laughed, following him anyway. Feury smiled, and sat Black Hayate down on his leash. He would bark if they got near anything bad.

They ran to the safety zone. Occasionally, they would pass an undead, and shoot at it. They knew it attracted their attention, but they had no other options.

Of course, it was attracting a lot of attention...

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"What was that?"

Winry was in the kitchen, cleaning off a few dishes. Lan Fan looked around warily. Winry looked at her.

"Don't worry, Ed and Ling are here. You and I are going to be fine."

"Even if they weren't here, we'd be fine. I can still fight, you know."

"But you shouldn't."

They stood together, nervous. The windows were all boarded up in the house, so they were safe enough at the moment.

Edward stood up from his spot in the living room and walked to the front door. He opened it, just to see what was going on.

"Gunshots..." he said. "I wonder if it's Riza and Roy..."

"Can't be," Ling clarified. "That's more than two guns. More like four. And there's a dog."

Ed ran outside, shutting the door behind him. Of course, he also brought a gun. He ran to the ladder on the building across the street and looked at the grounds. Sure enough, he saw the four men. They swiftly came closer. However, they were about to be running into a horde, coming from the buildings beside them. How there were even that many left in the city, he didn't know.

"Ling! Come out here! I need you!"

Ling ran outside, and saw the horde. They didn't appear to notice him in the slightest.

"That horde needs to be cleared. I'm out of bombs, and Al is nowhere to be found. It's seven!"

"Where is everyone?" Ling shouted, running at the horde with his blade.

"NO! STAND BACK!"

He turned and saw Al and May approaching, May holding groceries. Alphonse clapped his hands together, and created a sword for his own use as well.

"Okay! Ready?"

"Yeah!"

They ran into the horde, exterminating as many undead as they possibly could. There were a lot of them, and they still didn't seem to care about Ling or Al.

"Guys!" Edward yelled to the soldiers. "Climb this rope!"

He tossed a rope down from his survival kit and tied it to the nearby generator.

"You're kidding!" Breda complained, being the first to it this time. This, of course, was poorly thought out.

"Hurry up!" Havoc shouted, shooting. His gun clicked, and he was out of ammo.

"You can go next," Falman ordered. "We have ammunition, we'll take it from here."

Havoc nodded, and climbed up after Breda. After him, Falman.

Only a few of them remained. Feury's shotgun ran out of ammo, so he swapped over to his pistol.

"Hurry up, Alphonse! Ling!" Ed shouted, unable to help from his position. "They're getting closer!"

Black Hayate broke free from his leash and ran through the horde to the safe house. Feury gasped, reaching for him, and tripped. His glasses fell off of his face and shattered. He was now blind.

"Shit!" he yelled, though he rarely cursed. He was frightened beyond anything he'd ever been through.

"ALPHONSE! LING!"

Alphonse cut through the neck of one close to Feury, causing blood to go everywhere.

And that's just it. The blood went everywhere. And, well...

Feury's exposed eyes caught a good amount of it.

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"Lay him on the couch!"

"Is this really safe?"

"You're damn right it's safe! We don't know for sure if it's infective at all..."

Edward sat down and looked at him, giving him the best check-up he could provide.

"Can you tell anything?"

"Shut it," Ed said to the three men, and leaned close to Feury. "Does it hurt?"

Feury tried to shake his head, but began to sob.

"Yes. It hurts like hell. I can't even see anything, and that's compaired to my normal eyesight."

"Other than the eye – what do you feel?"

He paused, stifling his noise to think.

"I have a headache...and...I'm dizzy. That's all, otherwise."

"A headache, you said?"

Edward flipped through the notebook, and saw that it was a symptom of pre-reanimation. Pre-death, to be precise. He felt Feury's forehead, and noticed that it was a horrible fever.

Feury saw the worry in Edward's eyes, and cried out.

"Am I going to...am I going to die?"

Edward sighed, and held onto his hand.

"If you're infected..."

His frightened expression grew dim with shock.

"N-no..."

"I need you to make a descision..."

"Please, Ed-"

"Would you rather us kill you before you die, or wait till you're undead?"

Feury cried harder, and tried to speak. His words were muffled.

"Edward!" Falman yelled. "Don't...just...just go. We'll handle it all from here."

From the cracks in Falman's voice, Ed could tell he was near tears as well. He left the room to find Alphonse. Sure enough, Alphonse was by himself, laying on the bed he chose.

"Al."

Alphonse turned over, and saw Edward there. His eyes were red, and bloodshot from the heavy crying he himself had done.

"Brother...I-I didn't mean to...I didn't want to hurt him! I was only trying to save him! If I had done anything less reckless I...he'd still be okay..."

Edward sat on the bed, and hugged his brother tight. He began to cry again.

"I've never been in a house with so many crying men," Edward said, softly. "It's certainly more hurtful than any woman crying. Because it's more rare."

Al sniffled, and you could tell he wasn't trying to cry.

"I'm sorry, brother, I... what if they hate me for it? What if Feury hates me?"

"It wasn't entirely your fault. You tried, Al. The Zombie would have bitten him if he was that close anyways."

Al was silent for a moment, then clenched tighter onto his brother.

"B-brother? Am I going to go to Hell?"

Ed jumped, surprised that Al had asked such a question. He was perplexed.

"Al...if God is good, then he saw your true intentions."

He scratched his brother's head.

"I'm sure you're fine."

Alphonse coughed, and nodded.

"Now, go to sleep."

Al did as he was told, and rolled over.

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The hours passed. Hawkeye and Mustang arrived exactly at eight, and heard the news. Mustang didn't cry, although Hawkeye did – and even then, she didn't sob.

However, even though Mustang didn't cry, didn't mean he wasn't broken.

He knelt beside Feury.

"Feury..."

Feury moved his head to look at him, although he really saw nothing.

"M-Mustang...you're alive..."

Mustang nodded. "Yeah..."

Feury rolled to his side.

"I...I'm sorry, Mustang. I wanted to lead...just once. Turns out I'm a pretty bad leader, huh."

Mustang shook his head.

"No. You're not."

"But-"

"But nothing. You were the one that stayed behind. You took the hit. And you're the one that brought the men here, too."

"H-how did you know?"

He smiled.

"No one else had good enough eyesight to spot us from the outskirts."

Feury managed a small laugh, and then was interrupted by harsh coughing fits.

"If it's okay, sir...I don't want to die like this. It gets more painful with each passing minute..."

"Would you rather die sooner?"

Feury nodded.

"I don't want to go through that."

Mustang looked at the other men.

"I told them that – they wanted to wait and see what you said."

Mustang picked Feury up as best as he could.

"Then I'll be the one to grant your dying wish, Feury. Anything else?"

Feury nodded.

"I don't want to die in vain. Do your best, Mustang, with whatever you do. And you'd better not die."

Mustang smiled and took him outside, unlocking only the front door. It was empty outdoors, not a ghoul in sight.

"Ah, yes," Feury said, as Mustang sat him down. "That silence...it's beautiful."

Mustang put a hand on his shoulder.

"Am I about to die?"

"Yeah. If that's really what you want?"

Feury paused, then nodded his head slowly.

"I'd want nothing more, sir."

He saluted, then braced himself for the impact.

Mustang raised his gun, and fired. Feury's hands, previously covering his ears, fell limply to his sides. Roy sighed, and sat the gun down by his corpse.

"If you are killed before reanimation," he sighed, voice cracking only a little. "Through being eaten, or...other reasons...you will not reanimate..."

He saluted Feury's body, and carried it away. Then, he set fire to it, to make sure the body didn't attract anything. And, though no one saw it, he cried, too.

End-of-Chapter Notes: WHY AM I SUCH A HORRIBLE PERSON? D:

I'm literally ashamed of myself right now. Turns out, I'm better at writing sad stuff when I listen to country music. I should do that more often.

BUT SERIOUSLY. I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON.