World Without End

The moment Nick firmly grabbed the side of his face, pulled him near, and sternly told him to "shut the screaming fuck up for a second" Rochelle knew. Although something inside her had been calling attention to the two of them for a few days now, it was the way the older man's fingers lingered on Ellis' skin that cemented her suspicion.

Now Rochelle was raised by two relatively liberal parents. Her mother and father both worked outside and inside the home and taught her to value life, education, and respect for others. Despite what others around her had preached or believed, she never understood the justifications for hating or otherwise discriminating against someone because of who they loved. Of course when everywhere you went rabid zombies tried to rip you apart, the rules changed. An attachment of any type other than sheer reliance was a liability.

She knew that.

Coach knew that.

Ellis knew that.

And Nick knew that.

They all knew it. They knew it because if they didn't – if they allowed themselves to become distracted – they'd be dead.

And so, despite the fact that Rochelle was – perhaps above all things – not one to meddle in other people's affairs, she approached Nick that night as he made his way to his makeshift bed.

"Hey," she simply said, her fingers catching the cuff of his jacket.

With tired eyes, Nick turned to her and simply waited.

"We need to talk."

"What about?" he asked after a pause.

The young woman swallowed the anxiety in her throat.

"About Ellis."

Nick shrugged his shoulders.

"What about him?"

It was funny that in the middle of the end of the world awkwardness still managed to exist.

Rochelle let her body lean into the wall at her back, her toned arms crossing defensively in front of her.

"You know what, Nick."

The older man stared into her – seemingly measuring her up – before he broke their gaze with a swift glance to the floor and then pulled his sharp green eyes up once again.

"It's none of your business."

She didn't have to respond; he knew he was wrong. It was her business. Everything that any one of them did belonged to the entire group. They'd been fighting for their lives for going on two weeks now and the closer they got to New Orleans the less they could afford to let themselves – any of them – get preoccupied.

"How long has it been going on?"

Nick exhaled loudly and lightly rolled his eyes.

"I said it was none of your business," he repeated, walking to move past the young woman who continued to lean against the threshold of the door.

As he approached Rochelle thrust her arm out and gripped the worn wood of the frame, effectively blocking Nick's exit.

"Rochelle. Move."

There was nothing gentle about his voice.

"Nick," she continued, holding his gaze. "This has nothing to do with you and it has nothing to do with him. This is about us – all of us – about our survival. We can't afford to get distracted. None of us can."

"I'm a big boy, Rochelle," he bit. "I think I can handle it."

"Nick would you listen to yourself," she said, lowering her arm and taking a step toward him, continuing in a hushed voice. "Are you really going to tell me that . . . whatever you've got going on with Ellis isn't affecting you? What about what happened today?"

"Oh for fuck's sake that couldn't have been helped!" Nick exclaimed. "That had nothing to do with me, Ellis or anything other than bad timing and the fact that we don't have eyes in the back of our goddamn heads!"

Rochelle shook her head.

"Bullshit," she said. "Nick, when we met you were sharper than any of us – and happy to tell us about it. You not only have eyes in the back of your head I'm convinced you've got a dozen more pairs hidden somewhere! What happened today wouldn't have happened at all if you and Ellis had been paying attention!"

"Me and Ellis, huh?" he shouted. "Why don't you go bother him about this then? Why me?"

"Because I know it's you, Nick," Rochelle said, trying to lower her voice again. "This isn't something Ellis would do."

"Oh what? Why?" Nick laughed, taking a toward her. "Because Ellis is a good ol' boy? A God-fearing boy? He'd never get involved with someone like me – with a man like me?"

"That's not what I meant," Rochelle said, retreating a little. "I just meant that Ellis isn't the type to . . . instigate these types of things."

"You know him that well, do you?" Nick questioned. "Did I miss something? Did the two of you know each other before the world went to shit?"

"Nick, please," she sighed. "Don't make this difficult."

She sounded defeated and as much as Nick wanted to revel in that, something in the pit of his stomach kept him in check. Against his will his mind went back to that afternoon. He remembered seeing Ellis, noticing the way his eyes lit up when Nick offhandedly had asked him just how Keith had managed to regain consciousness after getting hit with a runaway ATV. It was then that he had heard Coach cry out before the eldest man's breath was stolen by the hunter that had pounced him. The gambler and the mechanic had ended up trailing a bit behind their companions and as a result it was Rochelle who had to knock the hunter back and finish him off while she simultaneously defended herself against three suddenly appearing infected.

When Coach was back on his feet and everyone had their breath back, Nick had grabbed Ellis face and told him to shut up.

Whatever it was that had budded between them had started with an innocent question and a tentative kiss while they'd ventured out looking for food three days ago and had progressed to a hesitant dance; it had no definition, only a curiosity, and today that inquisitiveness had hurt potentially one of the last humans on earth and put another in unnecessary danger.

In his mind's eye, Nick saw Ellis' eyes ignite again.

"You're right," he confessed with a placid breath. "It stops tonight."