A/N: I've gotten so many positive reviews, and this story isn't even finished! I love you guys, thank you so much! I bet you're wondering what will happen now that Taylor is dead. I am too. Predictions are always welcome ;) Will Aaron and Ellie EVER reunite? Probably. But don't ask me when, because I have no idea. Enjoy!

I didn't know what I was supposed to feel. I was a roiling cauldron of emotions, ready to spill over and burn anyone and anything around me. I was angry, grieving, lost, and vulnerable; the list went on. Anything could make me snap and if that happened, I didn't know what I was going to do. Kill something, probably.

I felt like killing something.

I had no idea Taylor made me feel so protected, even when I wasn't completely sure he was on my side. All I knew was that he had saved my life, and died because of me.

It was all my fault.

I wasn't strong enough to save him.

Taylor died because of the Hunters, not because of you. My conscience tried to soothe my gnashing, restless emotions. It didn't work.

If I hadn't gone nosing into that warehouse, this would never have happened! If I shot that Hunter before he could catch me, Taylor would be riding with me right now! I mentally yelled back. My conscience shut up.

My thoughts quieted for a moment, enough for me to take in my surroundings. Callus II and Ebony, as I now called Taylor's horse, plodded along at a leisurely pace along Loop Rd. To my right was a sparse wall of trees, and behind them I spotted residential homes that were probably the same ones depicted on the Hunters' chalkboard. To my left was an endless farmer's field, overgrown with grasses and weeds, but I could still discern the perfectly straight rows. The husk of a combine sat baking in the afternoon sun by the decrepit fence.

I blinked at the sun, and I noticed it was dangerously low in the western half of the sky. I wondered how long I had spent mourning by Taylor's corpse, and I determined I had lost a good hour or two. I had a couple hours of daylight left, but I needed to start thinking about making camp. Ebony threw his head up as an inhuman screech echoed from the backyard of one of the houses. I spied decaying fingers reaching through the branches, and I sighed in relief when I realized there was a fence between me and the Infected.

Still, I nudged Callus II into a trot so we could move as far away from the infested houses as possible. Neighbourhoods were definitely not on my list of possible camp sites. So that just left…I spotted a promising bridge about a quarter-mile away. It was better than trying to clear a house that had Clickers and whatever else lurking within a ten-foot radius of the front door.

I sighed a little; I wasn't a fan of sleeping outside, but what was my alternative? Getting torn apart or shot in the head in the middle of the night? I didn't even have the firepower to shoot more than a few Clickers, anyway. It was only for one night, anyway. By tomorrow I would be in Tommy's place, with Ellie in my arms and a hot meal in my stomach.

Ellie…I slipped back into the memories of last night, remembering the feeling of Ellie's lips on mine, her hair between my fingers, and the heat of her body against mine…I almost whimpered in yearning when I came crashing back to reality by an unfamiliar, female voice.

"Don't you come any closer! I have a gun!" The woman sounded young, her alto ringing with warning in my ears. I squinted at the bridge as Ebony gave a nervous whinny, searching for the source of the voice.

I spotted a head of brunette hair blending in with the fur of a brown horse with a black mane and tail. Her pale skin gave a stark contrast against the horse, and the navy tank top she was wearing. Her jeans were rolled up to her knees and I spied a pair of sneakers on a nearby rock. The shallow creek between us gurgled and babbled along the gravelly riverbed, cutting through the farmer's fields.

"Umm…hi. I'm just passing through, don't mind me." I attempted a calm, soothing voice, the best one to use when I had a pistol pointed at me. It came out as more of an annoyed, impatient tone. I didn't feel like talking to anyone right now, especially paranoid teenagers.

"You ain't gonna shoot me, are you? I don't have any supplies with me, I'm just washin' Becky." The brunette girl still didn't put her gun down as I kept riding, her Southern twang becoming more discernable the closer I got. It took me a second to realize Becky was the brown horse.

God, I didn't have time for this. I had to find a safe place to make camp before sunset.

"Look, I don't want your shit. I don't want to kill you either, so if you'd stop pointing that pistol at me, that'd be great." I retorted sharply, and the girl gave me a surprised glance, lowering her gun.

"Really? You're not the type of person who kills things for the hell of it, are ya? I guess you would have shot me by now if you were…you didn't come from that group of Hunters up the street, did ya? They're nasty fuckers, aren't they?" The girl continued. I halted on the other side of the creek.

I'll kill you if you don't shut the fuck up…I grit my teeth, shifting in my saddle. I took another look at her, and decided not to. She was too pretty to kill, with curly brunette hair falling past her shoulders, freckles scattered across her straight nose and high cheekbones, and her short, strong body frame. She was probably Elli's height, if not a little shorter, and with more muscle in her shoulders.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm not a Hunter, so you don't have to worry about me. I'll just get out of your hair." I made to turn my horses around, but again the girl stopped me. My fingers inched towards the gun nestled against the small of my back.

"Where'd you get those horses, then? Looks to me like there was somebody else riding with ya. No skinny kid like you can steal two horses from a pack of Hunters." She attempted to smile, but it didn't last long under my icy glare.

I worked my jaw, curling my fingers into my thigh to keep them from gripping my pistol. "That's none of your business. Now I'd appreciate it if you shut up so I can find a place to camp before sunset."

The girl, instead of making that high-pitched, haughty "hmph" noise I associated with being insulted, smiled at me again. "Well, why didn't ya say so? My group would be happy to lend you a blanket and a hot can of beans for one night! We've got plenty to spare! Plus, uhh…you look like you could use a little TLC, ya know?"

Tender loving care? Oh, please. "I don't think so." I snapped.

A hurt expression contorted the girl's pretty features, but she quickly brightened up again. "Don't blame me if we start shootin' at ya for trespassin', then. You'd get by safe with me and you wouldn't have to sleep under the bridge." She smirked, and I raised an eyebrow. How did she…? I decided not to ask.

Honestly, I wasn't willing to trust any strangers.

Honestly, right now I was too tired and numb to care.

"Fine. Where's this camp of yours?" I gave in, wiping the sweat off my forehead. The movement seemed to catch her eye because she glanced at my hand.

"About a mile that way," she pointed in the direction I was supposed to be travelling in, "past all those houses full of Infected and Hunter patrols. My name's Charlotte, by the way. What's yours?" She bounced on the balls of her feet, as if excited to have made a new friend.

I sighed. I knew I was going to regret this. "Aaron. My name's Aaron."

Charlotte smiled brightly again, padding over to the rock and tugging her sneakers on. "Alrighty, then! Well met, Aaron! Let's get going, shall we?" She clipped a rope to Becky's halter, leading her out of the creek.

I met up with her on the other side after I crossed the bridge, and no surprise, she started yapping again. I missed those comfortable silences with Ellie, when she only said things when she needed to, or when she thought of something funny.

"So, where'd ya come from, Aaron? I was born and raised in Dallas, and we're heading to Vancouver, Canada. I hear the QZ's there aren't as shitty as they are down here." Charlotte almost sang. Like an obnoxious finch, she never got tired of hearing her own voice.

"That's because there isn't anything in Canada. It's just open land, with a few cities here and there. Not to mention so much forest, it would be impossible for spores to spread since the air is so fresh," I muttered, "I'm from Salt Lake City, but I was born in Boston."

Charlotte flicked the rope over her horse's neck and effortlessly swung herself onto her back. "Wow, so you're a Firefly? We've got a few ex-Fireflies ourselves, too." She giggled when she saw my worried expression, "Don't worry, we don't care who you used to run with. As long as you help provide for the group and you don't try to eat us, we don't mind if you're a Firefly, soldier, or ex-Hunter."

I grunted to let her know I heard her. I kept my eyes on the road ahead, occasionally glancing at the backyards of various houses to my right. "How many of you are there, anyway?" I queried, just to fill the surprisingly comfortable silence between us.

"Oh…" She paused, and her brow scrunched in concentration, "about thirty. But people come and go, so the number's always changing."

I let out a low whistle, surprised. I had expected less than ten. "That's a pretty big group. How do you keep everyone in check?" Back in Salt Lake, we had supervisors for every department, but out here there wasn't so much organization.

"Well, we're a pretty nice bunch, but the boys sometimes get into tiffs. If somebody's real bad, we kick them out. But otherwise, a good scolding from Nigel usually keeps people in line. Nigel's really scary when he's mad, even the other adults are afraid of him when he's angry. But he's usually pretty friendly. A bit rough around the edges, though." Charlotte chattered, and I made a mental note to keep control of my temper. That was going to be difficult, since just the slightest odd look could set me off.

I fell quiet, but I noticed Charlotte giving me glances in my peripheral vision. Just like with Ellie, I took notice and snapped, "What?"

Charlotte smiled radiantly instead of looking away, "It's just your hair. How do you braid it like that? It looks really neat."

I rolled my eyes. I swear, this girl had the curiosity of a five-year old and the mechanics of a tape player with a broken stop button. "I just do, okay?"

Charlotte pursed her lips. "I'm just curious, no need to be rude. Who stuck a rifle up your ass?"

"I'm not one of those sociable people." I mumbled.

"Well, I'm not one of those quiet people." Charlotte shot back.

I let out an exhausted breath. "Obviously."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at me. "I'm ignoring that comment. So why are you riding through Wyoming all by your lonesome? I can tell there was somebody with you. Did they die? People aren't usually so bitter unless somebody died."

There were just some things you shouldn't say to people, but apparently Charlotte never learned that lesson. Or, she was just so accustomed to having people die or leave her that the topic was as commonplace as asking what you had for breakfast.

"Something like that…I'm heading up to Jackson County; I've got a few friends over there." I said disinterestedly, fixing my gaze on the road again.

"Anybody special?" Charlotte drawled knowingly.

I hesitated, thinking of Ellie. Then I thought of how she left me to die. When you're grieving, it's easy to make enemies out of people who hurt you, even if they didn't mean to. "Sort of…not really. I dunno. What about you?"

My new friend giggled again, a high, musical sound that put my roiling emotions at ease for a second. But only for a second. "Yeah, there's Quinn, but he's a bit of a jerk at first. He's real friendly once you get to know him, though. He just doesn't open up to people like I do."

Maybe that's a good thing. I scoffed in my head. "Sounds like me." I said dryly.

"Yeah, maybe you'd get along with him? Did you ever play poker? The guys love to gamble. Cards, horse racing, wrestling, anything where you can bet on something, they'll play it." Charlotte smirked, and I shook my head.

"I never played cards. I'm too scrawny to wrestle, but I guess I could race. Aren't you afraid you'll injure your horses, though?" I asked, feeling myself ease up a little. Charlotte was like one of those vibrant, pet birds who knew how to talk. You couldn't help getting friendly, listening to her jabber until the vendor chased you away.

Charlotte shook her head, her curls bouncing along with the movement. "Naw, we only do half-mile races. Your horses look like they'd be good at that, I mean aren't they Quarter horses?"

I shrugged. I knew nothing about horse breeds. "I don't know. I'm not a horse guy."

The brunette girl smiled again, and I felt the edges of my lips curl up the slightest bit. I forced them down as the image of Taylor's corpse lingered in my mind's eye.

"That's alright, Ricky's our expert horseman. He's only twenty, but he used to live on a ranch. He'll be able to tell, for sure. I bet you can't beat our purebred Thoroughbred gelding, though. Shad's the fastest thing on four legs!" Charlotte twittered excitedly, but the buzz was lost on me. I had no idea what a Thoroughbred looked like, but I vaguely knew what a gelding was. So I just nodded, pretending to understand what she was talking about.

All too soon, we turned off the road and onto a dirt driveway. At the end I could see a cluster of low buildings, along with hazy shells of trucks and a combine. But blurry shapes milled about between the wavering structures, and I made out a few larger ones. Horses and people, I presumed.

Charlotte must have noticed the tension in my body because she said, "They'll like you, don't worry! You're with me, so they won't dare lay a finger on you. By 'they', I mean the guys. They enjoy bullying the newbies."

That didn't comfort me at all. It sounded just like the gangs at Boston's Military Boarding School. You just had to look at them funny and they beat you up. I nodded anyway, trying not to look at the people who stared as I rode by. I guess they didn't see many young people roughing it out by themselves.

The conglomeration of people thickened the closer we got to the buildings. Small garages for trucks and tractors, a barn, and a farmhouse materialized from the hazy heat radiating off the road. They were all various shades of rust on metal, except for the house, which was a sickly shade of yellow. A gaping hole was blown through one wall.

I counted four other horses, not including Becky. Two were spotted like Taylor's old horse, and another had black and white patches. The last one was taller than the rest, with spindly legs like a spider. Its fur was an off-white, but the nose was black.

"Who do we have here? Where'd you find him, Char?" asked a man with legs as long and thin as the white horse he was standing beside. His shallow, medium tenor matched his scrawny frame.

"Damn Hunters killed this poor kid's partner! Do you know where Nigel is, Ricky?" Charlotte queried, scanning the scattered pairs and trios wandering from building to building, or sitting on the grass chatting.

I raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. This spindly kid was only twenty, and he used to be a cowboy? He definitely didn't look the part, but I noticed there was a bit more muscle to his shoulders and arms than I first thought, as I watched him secure the girth of a tiny saddle to the white horse's back.

"He's walking around taking inventory. Hey, you gonna race with us today? We've got a good stretch of blacktop here, and Quinn's still itchin' to show you up after yesterday's ass-whopping." Ricky turned to me as if I had just materialized out of the heavy, sticky air. "You ride?"

I shrugged. "I guess. Got nothing else to do." I mumbled.

Ricky nodded, ignoring me again as he resumed talking to Charlotte. "So Quinn's riding Shad here," he patted the white horse's shoulder, "I'm riding Melody, and you're on Sparky. We meet at Loop and Cortland, and race to this driveway in fifteen minutes. Which horse are you riding, new kid?" Ricky glanced between me, Callus II, and Ebony.

"I'm riding Callus II here. Where can I put Ebony?" I asked as Charlotte hopped off Becky.

"I'll take her, she and Becky can graze with Sandy." Before I could protest, Charlotte was already leading my horse away with her own. I was left alone with Ricky, who eyed me up and down like I was an interesting piece of meat.

"What's your name, new kid?" Ricky queried, pushing his mop of brown hair back. It was lanky and greasy-he was obviously in need of a good bath in the river. His tattered jeans and hole-riddled green t-shirt weren't any better.

"My name's Aaron. Now you can stop calling me 'new kid'." I said moodily. After a short pause I asked, "What's with the tiny-ass saddle?" I jutted my chin out towards the saddle on Shad's back.

Ricky snorted, tugging the last girth buckle into place. "You've never seen a racing saddle? No, I guess not…not many our age have. Horses like Shad here used to be bred just for racing. They were called Thoroughbreds, and these were the saddles they used. Quinn just wants to ride this guy because he's fast. Kid can't stand losing to his girlfriend." He chuckled, then switched to inspecting Callus II.

"Nice Quarter horse you've got here. Solid, strong, nice healthy coat. You've been taking good care of him. Where'd you get him and that mare of yours, again?" Ricky continued, walking around my horse. I dismounted for him since I had nothing else to do, and my legs were starting to get sore.

"I uhh…stole them from some Hunters on my way here. You know, before my partner died." I didn't look at Ricky as I spoke, and I was glad he didn't press the subject.

When Charlotte came back, she was leading the black and white horse I assumed was Sparky, and a lean, red-haired boy led one of the spotted horses as they chatted with each other, their heads bent close. The redhead I presumed was Quinn gave me a haughty smirk.

"I like me some fresh meat. Ready to break your neck at a gallop, new kid?" Quinn jeered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from Charlotte.

Charlotte gave me a tired smile as Ricky and Quinn switched horses. "Don't listen to him, he's just being mean."

Quinn vaulted himself up onto Shad's back as Ricky did the same for his horse. "We need to break the new kid in, Char. He has to prove himself if he's gonna stay. No pussies allowed in this camp."

I shook my head, "I'll be gone by morning, trust me. I just need a safe place to crash for the night."

"Whatever," scoffed the redhead, "are you racing or not?"

I rolled my eyes, mounting Callus II again. He pinned his ears back in annoyance, but I mentally promised him he could have a good roll in the grass when we were done. "Let's get it over with." I said, following Ricky as he led the way up the dirt road. It was almost sunset now, just under a couple hours before dark. The shadows of the roadside trees striped the blacktop, and the distant houses were nothing more than indistinct, block-like shapes.

As we rode, the younger members of the group trailed behind, encouraging others to follow. Soon we had a dozen-strong fan club of kids ranging from age six to around twenty. I bit my lip, knowing I was probably going to come in last place, but I prayed Callus II still had enough energy for a half-mile race. And that he wasn't too pissed off to do what I said.

"Alright, since Aaron's never done this before, I'll lay down some ground rules," called Ricky from the front, "No kicking, shooting, shoving, slashing, or hacking each other while racing. Any violence on horseback will lead to disqualification. This also goes for running other horses off the track, Charlotte." He gave the brunette a sharp glare, and she gave him the finger in reply.

I nodded, and then focused on quelling the rising nerves in my chest. "Where's the finish line again?"

Ricky pointed to a beat-up, rusted metal mailbox as we got on the pavement again. "First one past this box here wins a night off sentry duty. Any questions?"

"How many lengths do you think Shad will win by?" queried Quinn, urging Shad into a trot.

"Oh, shut up." Charlotte snapped at him. She turned to me with another bright smile. "Just try your best, alright? I'll keep Quinn away from you in case he tries anything stupid." She promised, earning a tiny smirk from me.

We trotted and cantered our horses to get them warmed up until we reached the starting point, a lonely intersection between what I assumed to be Loop Rd. and Cortland. I lined up beside Ricky and Charlotte, with Quinn on the other side of the brunette.

Ricky pulled a tiny silver pistol from his pocket. "Ready?" All three of us nodded, and for a moment all I heard was my heartbeat hammering loud in my ears. "Go!" The singular gunshot sounded, and I kicked Callus II into a gallop. I glanced to either side of me, and I was neck and neck with Charlotte and Ricky. Quinn, however, was already pulling away on his long-legged horse. I suddenly realized why the racing saddle was so useful for this.

The only part of Quinn that was touching his horse were his muddy work boots. The rest of him was above the saddle, hunched over his horse's neck. The rest of us, meanwhile, had to stand up in the saddle, which made for sore legs and thighs after a few seconds of galloping.

All I could hear was the thundering of hooves and the wind in my ears. I forgot about everything else for a moment as the adrenaline rush drowned any thoughts. Charlotte began to fall behind, but I could tell from the fierce snarl on her face that she was giving it all she had. Ricky just looked bored, already a horse length behind me.

I urged Callus II faster, and around the halfway point Charlotte drifted back so much that Quinn closed in on me. I saw his wicked smirk, and the competitive gleam in his blue eyes. I focused on the road ahead, hearing faint cheering from the driveway that was looming up in the fading light. I winced as Shad's side ground against my right leg, ripping my attention from the road.

"What the fuck?" I yelled at Quinn over the wind.

Quinn smiled at me, feigning innocence. "Oops. Gettin' a little close, are we?"

I drifted to the left, still surprised Callus II was keeping up with the racehorse. We were about a quarter mile from the finish line, but Shad's long body could easily outrun Callus II's shorter one. I dug my heels in, smiling as we began to pull away from Quinn.

I suddenly felt a hand grab my shoulder, roughly pushing me off-balance. I instinctively hugged Callus II's neck as his momentum threw me forward, but it wasn't enough. The pavement rose up in a blur to meet my tumbling body, and everything went black.