******Author's Note ****I own nothing. Kirkland is a SciFi God among men and I am delighted to escape into his reality! Enjoy.

Side Note: My Grandfather took a terrible fall this week and I have been super busy because of that. I appreciate all of you who are continuing to read and I promise that I will get more updates up soon! I know I promise The Scarred Children Run next BUT, it got super super long so I decided to stick this portion up first and, hopefully, bring you the second section tomorrow! Hope everyone likes it, I promise back to my favorite SHIP soon. CARYL ON!

Present Day

Rebecca Townsand awoke every day at 5:30am. Rain or Shine. Monday through Sunday. Everyday, without fail. The habit came from her earliest memories with her father from before. He would get up at five to make it to the country club gym before the pre-dawn runners. Rebecca needed to be ready to leave the apartment for daycare by 5:45. 5:30am gave her just enough time pull on clothes, brush her hair, and wolf down two granola bars while tying her shoes. Ever the advocate of self sufficiency Alan had never seen a problem with this routine as long as she met him at the door at 5:45 everyday, without fail.

Rebecca's father had since died, with most of the rest of the world, she had been held captive by a sadistic madman, and now she lived on the bottom floor of a missile silo without any windows or indication external time but, still, without fail, five thirty every day her eyes opened. It wasn't really the very bottom of the silo, not really, that space was reserved for the septic pumps and generators. She was directly above though, close enough to keep her sedated by their intermittent whirring, Rebecca had made her space in a re-purposed supply storage area that had previously been used to house cellular communication components for the silo. After giving Marius a chance to sort through the detritus she had squeezed her bunk, bow, and other few belongings into the space. It was small but, it was hers. Just big enough for her to stretch out but, small enough that no one could sneak anywhere near her without being discovered. It wasn't like anyone could get through the nine levels above her but, just in case.

This particular morning Rebecca's eyes opened to pitch black. She was a minute early. Within sixty seconds the generators came on, cycling as they did every four hours, and a small indicator light next to Rebecca's door glowed a faint orange. The silo's power cells were charging. Orange was better than red. They must have retained some solar energy from yesterday.

Rebecca swung her legs over the bunk and quickly dressed in the near pitch black utilizing only the faint orange light to put hands on her boots. She looped her knife around her belt before heading for the door, dragging her hand along the wall so she didn't get disoriented. The silo had ten levels total, eleven if you counted the septic and generator room, and every inhabitant there knew them all by touch. Abel had insisted. Just in case of a complete power failure. When Rebecca got to the stairway she found the faint emergency lights glowing and she could easily depict her way to the ninth floor of inhabitation; Marius' lab.

She knew something was wrong as soon as she walked in the door. He usually had the work space well lit, better work, better vision, better focus. It was their most prominent power drain in the silo. Emptying the batteries every day, without fail, when it was in use. Today, this morning, the lab was dark except for the lamp by his desk. The tow headed boy of eighteen or so rocked softly in his desk chair as he scribbled notes in a spiral bound book. Rebecca could easily see, despite the dimmed light, that the surgical table was empty. The recovery gurney was neatly stripped and it's sheets had been removed to somewhere else. There were fresh slides on the counter. The box had a seventeen in slick, black, magic marker on the side. Rebecca approached, careful not to touch him or get too close.

"Mare," She started.

Marius' head whipped around as the seat rolled so he could face her. His eyes were heavy with tears but, his face was positively placid. This was something that Rebecca had learned to expect. Or, rather, expect that she would always not sure what she should expect. Marius was medical savant. Autistic, his reactions ranged the gamut from disinterest to extreme physical pain when he lost a patient. He rarely showed any true emotional attachment to them in their living state but, their act of dying seemed to impact him, regardless. He never wrote their names. Only numbers. Living patients were assigned a number for chart notes. When they died they got a different number, for pathology slides.

"When'd she go?" Rebecca kept the question short knowing that if it was too long he would disregard her completely.

"One twenty six am," Marius said flatly. "That was the time. I keep track." Marius paused and tapped the wind up desk clock that sat on the counter next to him. "It was three hundred two thousand nine hundred ninety seconds after bite. Approximately. Eighty seven hundred sixty four seconds from time of death to time of reanimation. Exactly."

"You should have woken one of us." Rebecca said softly.

"I prepared slides. Preserved." Marius rotated back in his chair.

"I could have helped you with that," Rebecca replied.

Marius shook softly and settled back into a gentle rocking motion.

"Mare?" Rebecca tried.

Marius began to hum.

"I'm going to go up to help Marion with Breakfast." Rebecca said, admitting defeat. "Do you want me to have one of the twins bring yours down?"

Marius hummed louder but, as Rebecca approached the door to the stairs he suddenly stopped. "Its by the doors. The outer doors. Double bagged for you and I took it all the way up. But," he paused momentarily appearing to deeply ponder his words, "I'm not allowed….out...without help. So, I left it there. For you. To take out."

Rebecca paused by the door, "That was very thoughtful of you Marius, Thank you."

"Don't bring food, I don't deserve it." Marius abruptly scribbled something in his notes. "I did bad. I couldn't save seventeen."

Rebecca cleared her throat and spoke with the 'direct firmness' that Marion had coached her on, "I'll have Gabriel bring your breakfast down Mare. You do deserve it. You saved me, remember?"

Marious smiled brightly, "Rebecca Townsand; patient number twenty nine. She did not become her number. Rebecca Townsand survived."

"Guilty as charged," Rebecca whispered.

"I would like eggs," Marius murmured, his nose buried in the pages of the journal.

"I'll see what I can do," Rebecca said as she exited into the hallway.

Thirteen stairs to the next landing and fourteen more to level eight. Rebecca pushed into the pitch black of the twins room and tapped the aftermarket button, just inside the door, that illuminated the track lighting surrounding the 'twin's track,' as Abel called. They got windows, the twins. They didn't point out or anything but, instead they pointed in; towards the main 'housing' compartment where surface to air projectiles had previously been stored. The circular room that the twins called home looped, like a track, around those windows creating a doughnut shape with the actual missile room in the middle. As the light traveled around the room Gabriel almost trampled Rebecca when he rushed by the door, doing laps, in the dark.

"Shit," Gabriel expelled the word with a gust of exhaled breath as he narrowly missed her, "I nearly ran you down Sis. Gotta put a bell on your damn neck." Gabriel continued on his path.

"I wanted to make sure you two were up," Rebecca started, "for...shit!" It was Rebecca's turn to curse as a soundless Bay brushed past her from behind. "You know, talk about putting bells on people's necks," Rebecca called after the duo.

Gabriel rounded the bend again, "She doesn't mean nothin' buy it," he said as he passed again. As if on cue Bay rounded the bend, appearing, even with her diminished stature her six year old legs to be closing the distance between her and her brother. She waved brightly to Rebecca as she passed.

Rebecca waved back as the girl passed, "I just came to make sure you were awake for breakfast. Can you stop for a blessed minute?" Rebecca sighed exasperated.

"No can do, Sis. We've got another sixty laps fore we get to five miles. Then I'm gonna teach short stack here how to do pull-ups. Right cockroach?" Gabriel ran the information together almost as quickly as he buzzed past Rebecca for a third time. Bay was even with her significantly older brother now and Rebecca watched as Gabriel dropped his left hand momentarily and constructed the abbreviated signs to explain to Bay what he was talking about with Rebecca.

Bay giggled before shouting "Right." The bark echoed against the concrete walls.

"Will you at least tell me where your brother is?" Rebecca groaned.

"Gym, I'd bet," Gabriel called from the opposite side of the room. "It was his day for upper body and core."

"Thanks," Rebecca muttered as she turned to leave.

"Hit the lights," Gabriel called.

Rebecca tapped the switch and the track lighting began to dim down to nothing. "I'm not stitching her up when she runs into the damn wall," she shot into the dark. The only response she got was the soft patter of sneakers.

Level seven had, almost entirely, been devoted to a gym. The only exception being a small archery range that ran in a narrow strip lengthwise parallel, well as parallel as possible in circular room, to one side wall.

Michael was counting pushups. He was somewhere in the five hundreds when Rebecca sidled up and sat on a weight bench.

Michael stopped momentarily, looked up at her, and smiled. It was an amazing sight.

He hadn't smiled for over a year. After they got out. Not until she had woken up. On Marius' gurney. They'd been together for a while when Rebecca got bit. No one even knew of their covert pseudo romance, until then. Abel had later confided that Michael had been inconsolable when they got back to the silo and did not eat or sleep until Rebecca woke up after her procedure.

When she had woken he had smiled. And, now, he didn't miss an opportunity.

"Hey you," she said, playfully.

He remained silent, with that smile.

"You know," she began, "your brother thinks he can see in the dark."

"Running with Bay, again?" Michael rasped. His voice, his tongue, had never healed right after the King. Even though Rebecca could understand him his accent had gone from a childish soft southern drawl to something decidedly serpentine.

"Yeah, I mean, I get it that he's trying to teach her to use all her senses. But, for God's sake, the girl can't hear. What other senses has she got?" Rebecca rambled to fill the space them.

Michael rolled onto his knees and extended his body to gently lay his head in her lap. "You worry too much," he said.

"I do not," Rebecca exclaimed. "If you were the one to stitch her up you would worry too!" Michael sighed against her lap. Rebecca softly stroked his hair. "You didn't sleep, did you?" She asked it, before she lost her nerve.

He shook his head lightly against her lap, "Naw."

"You know we could pull your stuff down to my level," Rebecca started. Michael took his head up from her lap and, meeting her eyes, shook his head.

"You know neither one of us would sleep then," he softly chidded. "My nightmares might stop but, you wouldn't sleep with someone else in the room. We've tried. It doesn't work," he reminded her.

"We could," Rebecca started.

She was silenced with a kiss. Her body immediately tensed. Fear. It was a cold habit that turned her blood to ice. She hated this part, her reaction to something so wonderful.

His lips were like velvet and she longed for nothing more than to have his lips, those lips, in other more discreet areas of her body. But, no matter how hard she tried, she was still afraid. It had gotten better though. They had been practicing. His hand came up and softly cupped her cheek as she heard herself sigh. Forcing relaxation. Or, maybe, she was actually beginning to genuinely relax? Gently his fingers stroked away a few stray black hairs and lightly caressed along her neck, her scars. Astonishing herself, Rebecca felt her hands go to his hair securing his head's position against hers. He must have taken this as some sort of unconscious signal and he let his hand drop from its' position on her neck to her right breast. Rebecca reared back, pulling away and falling on the floor behind the weight bench. Bile thick in her throat she coughed repeatedly to suppress the urge to vomit.

"I'm sorry," Michael began as he leaned into the weight bench where her body had been only moments before. "I didn't."

"It's not your fault," she coughed quietly. "I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting…...I'm sorry."

"Fuck," Michael whispered into the hands that now covered his face, "I should've, we should've,...I'm sorry Rebecca." But, when Michael looked up again, she was already gone.

Levels six and five were the armory. Well stocked. Rebecca flipped the lighting switches on and off in each room doing a quick visual inventory, nothing out of place in either level.

Level four was the kitchen and where Marion slept. Technically she shared bunk space on three with Bay but, Bay rarely slept and Marion was always curing meat, canning fruit, or baking. The bustling kitchen was strangely comforting to Rebecca despite the fact that her father had never cooked. Rebecca surmised that Marion was what having a mother might have been like. Always busy, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of people.

This morning Marion's rail thin frame was bent over the kneading block. Her naturally platinum white blonde hair had been pulled back into a loose braid and she was busily beating the holy hell out of an extra large lump of bread dough. Flour covered most of her face and there were marks in it where Rebecca could easily tell she had been crying.

"Hey," Rebecca gave the greeting and waited for a response. Getting none, she continued, "Heard about Collette. I really thought she'd make it."

"Don't you mean number seventeen," Marion said bitterly to the dough.

"I mean Collette. I say what I mean, you know that Marion." Rebecca kept her voice even, calm.

Marion turned slightly and gave Rebecca a weak smile. "You know he didn't wake anybody? I went down there around two and he was just sawing into her head. I don't understand him. Eighteen years we've lived side by side and I'd give anything to know what he's thinking."

Rebecca approached her sister slowly with her arms extended. "You were the one who taught me that he doesn't always communicate like we do. To be patient. To work with him. He's saved all our lives times over Marion. The progress he's made with this fucking virus alone,"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Marion conceded while turning back to her work. "Don't you think I get it? He's a genius. I understand. I went to Harvard with him as sixteen just because of how much I understood." Marion blew a stray hair away from her face. "I'm a genius too you know. People forget that I was right there beside him at early entry. But, he's just got this understanding, this knowledge of the way things are working. I never got that and, he could never explain it to me. He just hums and rocks. But, mostly hums. Never a tune. Just noise." Rebecca let her friend vent and stood back for the inevitable. "So, I suppose he wants eggs." There it was. Regardless of how little Marion professed to know what was going on her brother's head she knew him. Knew him better than any of them.

"Yep," Rebecca answered.

"Before you take off on me," Marion began, "Our Father wants to talk to you. Said he wanted to send the twins on a run, for propane for me, and you on a hunting trek. We're running low on protein and Herd R1 is moving across here, probably tomorrow."

Rebecca sighed, then nodded before exiting. Taking a moment in the hallway she called back over her shoulder to Marion. "Eggs, don't forget."

"Abel's in the crow's nest," was all Marion replied.

Level three belonged to Bay and Marion. The room was empty but, Rebecca checked the light switch just to be safe. Nothing out of place. Marion's side of the room was clad in whites and lace. Bay's side had a myriad of stuffed animals, books, and puzzles that looked like they had been evenly distributed by a tornado. Rebecca smiled to herself.

Level two belonged to Our Father; Abel. Rebecca did not flip the switch in his room. Privacy was paramount to Abel. She tried to respect that. Besides, Marion had already told her where he was.

Level one was staging. The hangar doors that allowed access to the actual missile storage compartment had long since been sealed shut. Armor, daypacks, and various batteries littered the floor. A large bundle of wires came in from the outside on the wall farthest from the stairs. Outside they led to a variation of solar panels both large and small, inside they ran power to most of the silo. Somewhere in the eleventh level they tied in with the generators and a series of batteries but, Rebecca didn't really have a head for electrical engineering so, she left that to Marius and Gabriel. Rebecca crossed the small circular room and approached the outer exit door. There was an extra large heafty bag that, experience told her, would be triple bagged. A large number 17 was written on the outside of the bag in marker. She would have Gabriel dispose of these remains later in the pit. Rebecca used the two alligator clips that dangled from the room monitor and hooked them up to a car battery. The monitor and exterior cameras flashed to life. Three walkers. None of them too big. Rebecca unclipped the alligators and took a sizable machete from it's rack on the wall by the door. Rebecca stopped, only momentarily, to kiss fingers and press them against the photo of Donetta that hung by the door.

Taking a deep breath Rebecca pushed against the heavy metal. Once outside the let the door bang shut behind her and made quick work of the walkers to her right and left before crossing the small clearing to the largest oak tree in grove. There, at its top, more than forty feet in the air, on a small platform was the man she had learned to call Our Father. Abel Sokolov had lost a considerable amount of weight in the last two years that she had known him. His hair, always white, was now longer. His muscles were now leaner but, he was still a giant among survivors.

"Father," Rebecca called up. Abel looked down and smiled. "Marion said you wanted to send me on a run?" Abel nodded held up one finger telling her silently to wait he then slowly descended the rope ladder and gestured for her to follow him back to the silo entrance. Rebecca followed in silence. Once inside the front door Abel quickly stepped to the side and allowed Rebecca room to press a kiss to Donetta's picture before descending the stairs to his room.

Rebecca knew this drill. He wanted to write notes before he forgot. Once in his room Abel withdrew several maps and let them unfurl on his bed. He then selected the one he was after and took it to the table in the corner before drawing several lines on it with a ruler. Only then did Abel break the silence. "Q and R4 are going to run right into each other."

Rebecca drew in a little gasp and held it.

"Gonna make it a hellova trick for me to track them. Propane," Abel said setting down his pencil. "Your sister needs propane. She's running short. I'm gonna send the twins. I need you to go for a deer. When this big mother gets here," Abel thumped his pencil on the map pointedly, "we're gonna need more than what we have. Won't be making runs for a good month after that."

Rebecca nodded.

"I'll have Marion put together a bag for the boys for breakfast. I'm gonna have them take Bay, get her out of the house. I know you'll move faster alone though. Take the four wheeler we put in the grove, should be plenty of gas. But, be back by the evening. R1 is moving across here tomorrow sometime and I want you back in plenty of time to help batton down the hatches. The whole herd should only take a day or so to move through but, I'd rather have you back early. Better safe than sorry."

Rebecca nodded again before moving from the doorjam to leave. Abel made a little grunting noise and held out his arm. She approached him slowly. He never approached her, gave her that space. Once she was close enough, she leaned against his solid body and wrapped her arms around his torso. Abel briefly kissed her on the top of her head. Rebecca had no revulsion here. This man loved her without any desire for anything in return. "Be careful girl," he breathed into her hair.

"Always," she whispered into his chest.