Summer had finally arrived. And summers had become treacherous after the world ended. Extremely hot, thin atmosphere, and a merciless sun. But it was still a nice time for social interaction. The remaining residents of Beach City decided to walk down to the boardwalk and hang out for a bit, bringing their food and water in an old cooler retrieved from the subway station. The boardwalk itself had been cut in half when the city ascended over a month ago, but the sand and the water was just the same as ever. Bathing suits were not anyone's priorities when gathering their things back then, so those who decided to play in the water did so in their underwear (they would have done it in the nude, but due to the embarrassment that would ensue and children present, they wisely decided not to). Greg had recovered well from his concussion. There wasn't a lot of pressure built up, meaning a hole wasn't drilled in his head, and his rest in the quiet and the shade proved to be surprisingly effective. He sat on the beach in a comfortable chair, wearing blue-rimmed plastic sunglasses, a white tank top, shorts, and sandals, and drinking a bottle of water. He watched as everyone played beach ball with a balloon found at the old fairgrounds. Connie walked up to him, dressed in a white blouse and denim shorts.

"Enjoying the sun?" Connie asked, amused. Greg gave her a "cool guy" smile, nodding. She chuckled.

"Check it out, Connie," Greg flipped off his right sandal, which had stark white lines imprinted on it, "I'm actually gettin' a tan for once!" Connie laughed.

"The most you'll be getting is a sunburn."

"Ahh but what comes after sunburns?"

"Pain and discomfort."

"And theeeeen?"

"Dry skin."

"And theeeeeeen?"

"Peeling that dry skin." Greg scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"You're impossible, kid. Y'know that?" Connie chuckled a bit more. A boy, seemingly about her age, walked up to the two of them, holding the beach ball(oon). "'Sup, kid?" Greg greeted.

"Um, hi," he replied. "I was wondering if she would like to play some 'volleyball' with us. We don't have a net, though."

"I'll let her play if you guess her name right," Greg said, taking a sip of water. Connie slapped him on the shoulder, rolling her eyes. She then looked at the boy, actually thinking over his proposition.

"Um…" She began to feel a little tense. She didn't know this boy. She barely knew most of these people. And she did not like social situations. She began overthinking it, but caught herself before it got out of hand. "Nah, I think I'll pass." The boy looked at her for a few moments, light fading from his eyes and a blush forming on his face. "Sorry," Connie added, tensing up and smiling remorsefully.

"I-It's alright," the boy said, turning towards the other players, glancing at Connie timidly before walking off. She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at the ground guiltily. Greg took another sip, before setting it on the cooler beside him.

"Nice," he said.

"Shut up," Connie said, burying her face in her hands. "I got really nervous, okay?"

"Hey, it's whatevs. If you don't wanna do it, you don't have to. But don't act like you couldn't tell that kid has a crush on you." Connie nodded. She saw Smiley's backpack on the beach, and walked over to it to grab a blanket, then she laid it out by Greg's chair and sat down. For a few moments, she just let the ocean's breeze brush through her hair and caress her face, enjoying this moment of tranquility. It had been so long since she was able to openly enjoy moments like this, and now that they knew they had some form of protection, they would surely be doing it more often. And then she remembered Onion. And Jamie. Not very well protected, huh? But then there was that woman… "What's on your mind, kiddo?" Connie was startled by his question, forgetting her train of thought for a moment.

"The...uh…woman. That helped us out of the city. I didn't know she spoke English, either." Greg's face took on a more serious demeanor.

"Don't worry about it too much." Greg slowly sat up, walking down to an unoccupied part of the beach. "I gotta take a leak." Connie smirked, nodding. Greg kept walking until he could barely see the rest of the group. He dropped his shorts and began to do his business into the water. As he was finishing, he heard some shouts to his left. They were kind of distant, but still audible. He pulled his shorts up, zipping them before looking around. Sure enough, he was by the lighthouse. His brow dropped down, and anger boiled in his gut. While he didn't like thinking about it, he was also curious as to why they helped the group out. He stood there for a few moments, thinking it over. There was a tension in his chest, and a strange taste at the back of his throat. He was scared. He took a deep breath, looked at the lighthouse again, but started walking back down the beach. He stopped, however, once he saw some fish-only two or three-a few feet off the shore, now floating on the surface of the water. Dead. He raised his eyebrow, confused, before approaching them. Wading into the shallows, he grabbed two of them. He shrugged. More food. Then he began to think… Probably bad, though. Who knows what killed them? But fish is food… Then it hit him, and he smiled. Fishing!