Well... there goes my weekly update schedule.

Chapter 13: Vistas

"I have to say, none of these looks interesting at all." Francis was certainly not enjoying the recon mission. Things have not been particularly interesting ever since they arrived here. No habitable land was spotted, only ruinous villas and campsites, which were filled with infected up the nose. They certainly did not want to take a fight, as the bulk of their arsenal is with the ship; and while home base might not be anything more than two tents and a fire, it still had the most terrifying arsenal they had managed to gather yet. "What exactly are we even looking for out here?"

"I won't lie. I can't exactly say for sure." Zoey was right behind him, clearing out some of the bushes blocking their retreat path. They have been on the move for quite some time now, and the last thing they wanted was not being able to find their ways back. It had already been a few miles at least, but at least the map was helping them identify their tracks. "We're up in the North East, so what we're looking for is a potentially empty hillside. It should be much easier to fortify there."

"Well at least we have half a plan." The biker had little patience for geography. He did not necessarily want to fight the infected per se, but after a few days of strictly avoiding them, he was getting rather agitated. There was nothing he could do to voice that complaint to Zoey though; after all, she was the one who made that order. He complied simply because he was not being an insufferable anarchist at the time. Somewhere, vaguely, he regretted doing so. "I certainly don't mind sleeping on beds though."

"I don't either, but that doesn't mean we're moving into anywhere vulnerable to an ambush." Zoey spoke with great concern. They had passed through two separate resort sites already, and while grabbing some supplies was their top priority, they could not help but notice the sheer amount of the infected present. A lot of people got the message, and they must also have thought about hiding out here in the Keys. Unfortunately, that did not appear to have been a very wise plan, at least the part on staying in a populated area. "Francis!"

The two halted momentarily, as to get a bearing on their surroundings. Francis looked back, only to see Zoey scanning for anomalies. She must have spotted something, or else their expedition would have been carried on with great glee. Only a little while passed, before they started to hear muffled tones. There appeared to be other survivors, presumably, nearby. Zoey signalled for them both to get down. They had been quite mindful about traversing between the tall grasses, best to avoid detection from anything ranging from wild animals to hostile settlers. Firearms in hand, the two slowly approached the origins of the voices. The conversation was becoming clearer to them, until they could identify it being on the left side. At this point, they decided to simply start listening in.

"We are not having this conversation." A hoarse, male voice was heard. A certain amount of insecurity could be sensed in his tone, but mostly coated by the heat of the moment.

"Yes we are, Josh." His conversation partner appeared to be a woman. Guesses were flying as to why they were out here in the open, not being even a single bit discrete about their presence out here in the wilds. Perhaps a lover's quarrel, but that line of thought was soon put aside in favour of listening in a bit more. "Danny is bitten, you know that. It's only going to be a matter of time before…"

"Shut up, don't you say it." The man named Josh sounded rather anxious. Zoey could almost figure out just what was happening between this two, and perhaps this was a moment of privacy that they needed alone. However, knowing that did not at all help with a single problem. There were still many things they needed to know, but they were not prepared to risk for those just yet. "He'll be just fine, alright?"

"Josh… please…" A thud was heard, but no cries. It appeared he had slumped onto the dirt beneath, having some sort of breakdown. This could be dangerous, but Zoey and Francis were not quick to act. Their own safe concealment was more important than knowing more about this spat. "He won't be unless we do something."

"I know…" Josh was quivering, judging from that shaken voice. Their midlife crisis proved to be much more severe than they expected. It was simply a matter of time, then. "Emmy… can you just give me a moment alone?"

Footsteps indicated that the plea had been complied with. Even then, the mental state of this Josh was at a point where Zoey simply did not know whether to approach him or not. She lightly tapped on Francis' arm, signalling him to back off, at least for the moment.

"What do you think we should do?" Francis whispered, before slightly sticking his head above the grass. He could see the dark silhouette moving further off the distance. It would be hard to catch up to it without notifying others of their presence. "Emmy, I think her name is, is leaving, down South." A pause. "I think."

"Well I would like to tail at least one of the two back to where their camp site is, just to at least discover how many people they have on hand, and whether they will be a threat to us." Zoey was rather concise with her thinking. She had a point as well, simply because there was no reason just to trust people. She had this discussion at length with Louis before, and even his torrent of optimism could not shut down her doubt. What other groups wanted to do was none of her concerns, but she wanted to make sure there was absolutely no conflict of interest. "Josh here would do fine."

"What if we lost track?" Francis spoke of trouble. Sure, they had a map, but it had been hard enough to try and even get a general grasp of where their relative location was, let alone following a stranger to an unknown destination. "I don't know about you, but there is no way I'm making it back to our place just from memories and vague hints of stars or something."

"Well, I did tell Louis to go full alert should we not return around nightfall." It would not prompt him to go look for the two of course, but it would simply create unnecessary tension within the dead of night. Still, Zoey felt like it was a risk worth taking. "I don't really think these two would go out of their way miles off just to have this exchange. It might be some ten minutes off at best. We could keep on leaving tracks like we were before."

"Alright, but this is on you." There was nothing else to say, as they both went back to their post. Leaving a row of cut grass would not exactly be that easy without making an at least decent amount of noise, but someone had to do it. There was just a bit of waiting to do before the plan was set in motion.

Soon enough, Josh found himself back on his feet, with the other two silently stalking him. His path was not exactly the easiest to follow, as he did not seem to be very interested in walking straight, often stepping onto obstacles, hindering his speed greatly. It appeared that this was not a very populated area, or else they would have encountered sight of some of the infected by now. Still, they pressed on.

…

"Louis." He hung his head back, spotting their companion emerging from within the tent. Cindy looked longing, as she definitely was not having a good time holed up within the establishment. However, the both of them knew fairly well that it was best for the to stay. Someone needed to be on guard, after all, and a Witch would not be the most welcoming sight should the recon team came across any survivor. Thus, she had been stuck here for almost a week, with anything resembling entertainment that was left within the boat taking most of her interests. Sometimes small talk with whoever left guard was initiated, but nothing particularly engaging was said. The problem was that Zoey never actually stayed back.

"Hey Cindy." Louis, however, was a lot better at dealing with his apparent boredom. The way he's spending all of his time doing inventory, one would not be so jarred if he were to just go fishing after a while. His job allowed him of all this, and while nothing could be done to put him back to those days, he was simply doing his best to embrace it. One could say the crisis had not actually hit him yet, but the more observant would notice his unique method of coping with whatever was being thrown at all of them. "Do you have something on your mind?"

"I… how long have they been gone?" Cindy leisurely approached him. She appeared to be genuinely interested in what he was doing, attributed mostly to her lack of a time sink. It was not anything to take note of, as honestly that was the least of their concerns right now.

"About five hours…" Louis' watch was working just fine, one of the few memoirs he kept from his time of old. He never really shared much of it with the others, but essentially none of them did. Their lives before this, whatever the state, were ready to be left behind. Work, families, friends, lovers all alike are no longer relevant. The less they mentioned those old recollections, the better. Or so they believed. "It hasn't been that long, are you worried?"

"I can't help it." Cindy sat down next to him. Day after day of waiting was clearly getting to her. Sure, Zoey, along with who ever she took with her that day would eventually return, but would most likely be too exhausted to commit to anything. It was not they had much to do in the first place, but companionship was sorely missed. "Why does Zoey always have to go?"

"I don't really know. Maybe it's because it's her responsibility as our leader." Louis sighed. He truly felt like that was the case, and thus unable to talk to her against. Usually, the partner spot would be alternated daily between him and Francis. There was a belief that she would rather take Cindy, but the circumstances simply did not allow that. The problem would be that continuous exertion over this kind of terrain and weather was not going to do her any good. The last thing they wanted was for her to break down, physically or mentally, but she was too stubborn for that. It reminded him of Bill, both in a good and a bad way. "She felt like she had to keep everyone up and running, to be the motivation this group needs."

"I see." The Witch simply nodded. There was not much to say in the first place, and any measure of asking for things people were not comfortable with saying would simply be ignored. She was, after all, very confused for the longest time. She held no memories of her past prior, and it would only pain her to be asked of it. Zoey was the only one who tried to find out, but to no avail. Cindy was afraid, of whatever happened to occur again, of forgetting everything that happened just like she did her past. This was not to mention the oppositions they encountered on the way of getting here. The group tried their best to explain it to her in the least accusatory way possible, but she was quite aware that she was one of those things. She was surprisingly sentient, according to Zoey, but how long would that last? "Do you have something for me to do?"

"Not… really. Not without leaving this place anyway." Louis could see the pain in her eyes, of being trapped her, afraid of being judged by those they could encounter along the way. She was very much ashamed of what she had become, and without knowledge of what happened before that, there was little else but a blank slate to frown upon. Sighing, Louis felt like he needed to do something. He pulled out what seemed like a leather journal from a nearby backpack, and handed it to Cindy. She looked at it with unsureness, perplexed as to what to do with this item. "Do you know how to write, Cindy?"

"I'm not sure." A pen was then handed over to her. Paper was not of particular abundance around the camp, but Louis did not see any immediate crucial use for them. If he could help elevate Cindy from this position, it would be best. The Witch gripped the instrument with great unease. The claws she possessed made it particularly difficult to manoeuvre the pen. Fumbling, she looked at Louis for help. He sighed. At least this was going to be an eventful day.

…

"We're here." Zoey and Francis had finally arrived at where appeared to be the hideout of this Josh person. Red bricks littered the streets, and bits of flesh could be seen scattered around. One would deduct there had been a decent size battle here, but it had to have been quite a while ago, as the place was not riddled with decaying corpse and carrion. Josh soon disappeared within the orange gate. They were alone now, presumably. "Can you see what those banners say?"

"Hold on…" Francis squinted at the ensigns fluttering in front of the building. It was decently sized but aged, although made in poor taste in his opinion. The blank carve above the doorway suggested that there probably was a sign above the doorway some time ago, but was taken down. The fluttering wind did not make it easy, but he could make something out. "Mel… Fisher?"

"Mel Fisher museum." Zoey affirmed. It was on the map, which was why she was able to recognize it. It was rather required too, because unlike what she previously guessed, Josh was actually quite far from his camp. The sun was already going down, and she needed to head back before those at base start worrying about her. She would very much like to find out just what was going on in here, but decided against it. "We're getting back, now. We know where they are, and that should be good enough."

"What do you plan to do now?" Francis enquired. He was fully aware of Zoey's attitude towards survivors they encountered along the way, but he would not dare to guess to what extend did that apply to. He did not feel strongly about any of these people one way or another, but who was to say? "So they're here, what are we doing about it?"

"I would prefer some time to think it over." Zoey got back on her feet, as she was set on washing her hands off of this. Most likely she would prefer to avoid them and they shall never cross paths again, but she did not live 21 years to be so naïve. Still, it was not the time to think. She had someone waiting for her after all, and she was planning today for the last recon mission for a while. It had been too many, and it was taking a beating on her physique. They all could use a rest, and Cindy really could use some company. It might had been harsh to say she was neglecting the Witch, but considering how much time was spent off site and passing out upon coming home had took. "Let's go."

"Alright." Francis had no objections. This detour had already taken a lot more time than they had previously expected, and while the map would be very helpful in leading them back to their base, this being a strange gathering also meant there was a significantly higher chance of encountering more survivors around the area. Meeting them would be not be the worst thing, but having them mistake the two for bandits and shoot before asking is. "Let's crawl back, I guess."

"Don't be such a baby, Francis." Swatting the biker on the arm, Zoey expressed a beaming smile rarely seen. As such, he did not feel the need to retaliate with a snarky comment quite as much. It did not matter so much to Zoey though, because she was coming back. It had been so long since she felt like she even had somewhere to come back to. The prospect of home, alone, was enough for her to rid herself of self-doubt for that single moment, as the two found their way back. It was high time they had to move the base as well, because while the boat they came here with was valuable resource, it might be exposing their position to greater danger. After all, they had to keep watch of the boat at all times, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to distribute the resource to doing something like that. In the next few days, that entire contraption will have to be moved off shore as to be better protected. Still, that was for another day.

The important thing was that she was home, with the sun setting upon the horizon, signalling a beautiful evening to come. The scene was, in fact, quite desirable. Nothing was quite so shocking, however, to see the place devoid of people.