Chapter Twenty-One: House of the Rising Son

It had taken her longer to find something to pick the lock than it had to find the actual weapons stash. Careful not to make her destination obvious, Lumen traveled around the back of the building, waiting a few minutes for the sounds of footsteps or opening doors. When no sounds came, she proceeded back towards the stairs.

It was by luck alone that the infected were clustered together on the opposite side of the large cellar, with enough space between them and door to give Lumen some peace of mind as she entered. She looked around for something to prop the door open with and spotted a bucket over by one of the barrels. Moving quickly, she managed to snag it and stick it in the gap before the door could close behind her, catching the door by one of its metal bars to ensure it closed slowly and with as little noise as possible. Once that was done, she headed for the locker.

Staring at it between the two huge barrels, she found herself in a tricky predicament. If she were to open it and find that one of the doors squeaked, or if one of the weapons were to accidentally clatter to the stone floor, the sound would draw the infected and she would be cornered. She glanced up at the top of one of the barrels and wondered how hard it would be to scramble up there should it become necessary. There was no telling how long she would be stuck up there if she did manage to climb up, and there was every chance that one of the infected would find its way out through the open door.

Then luck struck a second time.

From somewhere above, someone opened the metal chute. Seconds later, two chickens came tumbling down in a flutter of feathers. Luck was not on their side. Within moments, the infected had convened on their position, followed by horrible sounds that Lumen didn't want to wait around to think about. She made for the weapons and got to work on the lock. As she heard a familiar 'click', she opened the doors, cringing at the metallic squeal that issued from them. She paused and crept back towards the edge of one of the barrels to see if the sound had attracted any of the dead. Just as she stuck her head around the corner for a proper look, she was greeted with a raspy growl as one of the infected rounded on her. Panic flooded her body.

Shit.

It was the only one to have wandered away from the group, so she had that to her advantage; but as it came shambling towards her, she found he had little time to decide what to take from the stash. Thinking on her feet, she grabbed the closest knife – her own, she was pretty sure – and turned back to face the incoming threat. She caught it by the hair, and in one quick motion, stabbed it through the back of the neck. It collapsed in front of her. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, she quickly returned to the locker.

She grabbed a handgun, thinking it would be the easiest to conceal either on herself or in the house, then spotted her old, faithful rifle. It made no sense to take it; it was big, bulky, and very noticeable. But sentimentality got the better of her. It was the one piece of her past that she had left. She had no family or friends from that life – all she had was her gun, and somehow that seemed fitting. She stuck the handgun in the back of her pants, covering it with her t-shirt, and took the rifle. Scanning over the rest of the contents, she spotted a small cache of ammunition and grabbed some for both of the guns. It wasn't much, but then she was hoping she wouldn't have cause to use it any time soon.

With one final glance, she decided to close the doors, risking the squeal of metal once more in order to conceal her betrayal. Slipping the rifle strap over her head, she swung the weapon across her back, surprised by the comfort she felt at the familiar sensation, and then made for the exit. The dead were coming. Two chickens hadn't taken them long to devour, and they came towards her now, drawn by the noise, some with the feathery-remnants of their snack still smeared around their mouths. As she bolted through the small gap in the ajar door, Lumen kicked the bucket out from it and snapped it shut once more. She paused to take in Celia's horrible secret once more, then realizing that the commotion of the bucket might have aroused suspicion, took off quickly into the night.

She ran into Nick and Ofelia on her way back into the courtyard, scrambling to conceal the renewed pang of confusion she felt at the sight of the two together, as well as the obvious weapon clutched in her hands. She scuttled back momentarily, hoping she hadn't been caught out, and stuck the larger of the two guns behind a hedge before turning back towards them. Ofelia smiled at her as the pair approached – a sweet, gentle smile that only made Lumen feel guiltier – but Nick had an expression that looked an awful lot like suspicion.

"What are you up to?" he questioned.

For once she failed to come up with an explanation, opting instead for a change of subject. "Uh, I ran into your old man before," she told Ofelia, "He was acting a little weird. Thought you might want to check on him."

Ofelia sighed. "He hasn't been himself since we arrived," she admitted. "I'm not sure what it is."

A confession about the cellar sat perched on the tip of Lumen's tongue, but it didn't feel like the right time to say anything. She hadn't had enough time to think over what it meant for them or the best way to deal with it that would cause minimum damage to their circumstance. They had nowhere to go. This was their safest option for the moment, and it was admittedly a comfortable one, too. It was then that she made the conscious decision to sleep on it. Looking at Nick, she wondered if a shared bed was still on the cards. As if reading her mind, he offered a knowing smile.

"I should go find him," Ofelia said now. "Thanks, Nick. And you, Lumen."

Lumen pulled her attention away from Nick to look back at her, a slight frown creasing her features.

"Thanks for letting me know about my father."

Lumen nodded. "Anytime."

Nick gave a pleasant nod of goodbye to Ofelia as she left, then turned back to Lumen.

"Tired of me already, Nicky?" she joked tiredly.

He caught onto the hint of jealousy immediately and shook his head. "She wanted to go pray for her mom and needed some company. She didn't feel safe walking by herself in the dark."

"What a gentleman you are."

Her words came across dry, and he stared at her, a hint of humor to his gaze.

"No luck with the wine?" he guessed.

Tempted by the second chance to tell him about what resided in the cellar, she still found herself unable to do so. She'd had practice withholding certain details from civilians for their own protection in what was usually an effort to stop any sort of panic or rash behavior. Given the nature of the discovery, she didn't think it was something that would go down too well with Madison.

"No luck. I'll just have to try and get some sleep the old-fashioned way."

"Maybe I can help," he offered, with a smile.

She looked up at him, a little taken aback by the suggestion, given it had barely been a couple of hours since their last rendezvous, but gave an appreciative nod nonetheless.

Maybe sleep would find her after all.

The gunshot RIPPED through the peaceful silence.

Lumen woke with a start, old military instincts kicking in as she sat up and reached for the gun she had left on her nightstand. Her fingers found the cold metal in the darkness as her other hand shot out to switch on the lamp. Beside her, Nick was already pulling on his clothes. They shared a concerned look, then she released the weapon from her grasp and followed his example, reaching for the items of clothing she had hung over a chair in the corner of the room.

In her groggy state, she fought to think of who might have access to a weapon, recalling her carefully hidden rifle. Or at least she had thought she had hidden it carefully enough. Her mind went then to Daniel and his increasing instability. Then it went to Chris. She thought back to the boat, to the last time they had been startled into action by an unexpected gunshot. If he had found her gun…

No. She wouldn't allow herself to believe that he would do anything like that. He might have been confused and angry, but she didn't think he was capable of that.

She caught Nick glance over at her nightstand. He hadn't approved of her bringing the gun into the house after Celia's clearly stipulated rules, but he had also been around her for long enough to know that arguing wouldn't have gotten her to change her mind. He also trusted her enough by now to hope she would only actually use it if it was absolutely necessary. In this particular moment, heart beating hard at the prospect of danger, he found himself grateful that she had it with her. Still, the fact she had gone out of her way to locate the weapons and take them back in the first place made it clear to him just how little she trusted Celia and her people. He watched as she tucked the handgun into the back of her pants, hoping, whatever the situation was, that they wouldn't need to use it.

It took them both a moment, upon reaching Thomas's bedroom, to process the situation. There had been a confusing clatter of footsteps in the hallways as various staff moved from different directions towards the source of the sound, and they had been quick to follow after them, Lumen keeping a short, protective distance in front of Nick.

Thomas lay motionless on the bed, a pillow covering his face, a single, reddening bullet hole in the pillow's center. Blood was spreading across the white sheets, creeping closer to the inflictor of the deadly wound. Strand clutched the gun in his hand as he hung his head and cried. Celia was standing in front of him, her face devoid of mercy despite his obvious pain.

"What can you tell him, this man who loved you?" she said to him, "A man who died believing your lies. That you looked inside yourself, deep into the place where your soul should be, and you found it empty! You tell him that!" She stepped forward before anyone could even realize what she was about to do.

The slap echoed, loud and sharp, through the silent room. The small group of onlookers, consisting mainly of Celia's own staff, seemed too shocked to stir, but Lumen pushed passed them, crossing the room in seconds. It barely registered to her that she had taken out her own weapon, as she clutched it calmly by her side. Celia stared down at it, then glanced up, taking it as an open threat.

"These are the sort of people you bring into my house?" Celia spat, turning back to Strand. "No respect? People who would kill rather than try to understand?"

"I think we understand perfectly fine," Lumen told her, thinking of the cellar. Strand had spared Thomas from that indignity, at least. Or perhaps he had spared himself from having to see it.

Celia turned back with a fearsome look on her face. "Why are you here?"

Lumen didn't reply. She didn't know if she had an answer for that right now, only the old instincts that were telling her to protect her people. She would probably never admit it out loud, but after everything they had been through together – from LA to the Abigail – despite all the insults and the threats, Strand had somehow managed to fall into that category.

Celia stared at her for a moment in anger, then her expression relaxed as if she had found the answer on her own. "I know exactly what you are," she said.

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual," Lumen replied. She edged closer to Strand, trying to put herself between the two in case of more angry outbursts, but Celia snapped forward once again, jabbing an accusatory finger towards the former captain.

"And you, you are a fool! And so was my son for loving you!"

"I want to bury him," Strand said, as he stared down at his lover's still body. Another tear ran down his cheek as he reached out to stroke Thomas's arm, willing it to be warm once more. But the warmth of the man had left his body when his life had.

"You don't deserve to bury him!"

"It's what he wanted," Strand told her.

"What he wanted?" she shouted, "He wanted what you promised him!" With this, she now thrust her finger out towards a silver platter that sat on a table nearby, on top of which sat two lone wafers, side by side.

Lumen stared at the wafers for a moment. They reminded her of the few times she had attended church as a young girl – the kind they offered during communion. Then it clicked. The empty church, the dead parishioners that they'd had to fight off outside of it. She glanced over at the others and caught Madison's gaze, realizing she wasn't the only one who had put this together. Celia had killed them all. Lumen wondered what they had done to earn her wrath, and just what the hell they had managed to get themselves into by coming here. If it sounds too good to be true… She sighed. Just once, she wished they could find somewhere to rest that wasn't occupied by complete lunatics.

"This man," Celia was saying now, as she began to cry, gesturing towards Thomas, "My beautiful, stupid son wanted you!"

"He was not your son," Strand said, finally looking back at her.

Rage flashed across Celia's face, and this time Lumen was there to catch her arm before she could strike Strand again. Nick appeared by her side as Celia yanked herself from the soldier's grasp.

"How dare you!"

"Look, Strand didn't mean it," Nick tried to tell her, his voice calm.

Celia gave him a dismissive glance and looked back to Lumen. "How dare you come into this house with your violence? I know your kind. How is it that a killer can be so afraid of death?"

"Some of us deal with it a little better than others," Lumen told her, "We'd rather lay our loved ones to rest than stash their empty husks away with the estate's best barrels of red."

The rage fell away as Celia realized her meaning. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. Nothing yet."

"I want you to leave," Celia told her. "Get out!"

Nick was looking back at Lumen, confused, then turned to try to diffuse the situation once more. "Celia, we're all just tired okay? We've been through a lot. We've lost our own people, too. Just give us a little time." He gestured to Strand, "He just needs some time, okay?"

Celia regarded Nick with greater consideration this time, as grief began to replace her anger. "You have one day," she finally replied. "When the sun goes down, I want you gone. All of you."

"Celia!" Nick tried, but she pushed passed them without another word, moving through the small group of onlookers and out through the bedroom door. Nick turned to Lumen. "What the hell was that about?"

Lumen slipped the handgun into the back of her jeans, watching Strand as he leaned closer to his dead lover's body. She had never seen the man this vulnerable, the fact they were all there to watch his private grief was beginning to feel invasive. "Now's not the time or place," she replied.

Nick looked over at Strand, then dipped his head and nodded. He glanced over at his mother, who stared back with a familiar, hardened determination, Celia's orders weighing on her mind.

"Strand," Lumen said as gently as she could manage, so unused to addressing him that way. He looked up. "Let me know when you want to take him outside, okay?"

He managed a nod in return, as fresh tears began to spill down his cheeks and his body was wracked with silent sobs.

Slowly, the small crowd had begun to filter out of the room, back to whatever jobs they had been tending to before the commotion. Madison watched Nick as he slipped by, the way he ignored her but turned back to look at Lumen. The soldier nodded for him to go on, waiting until he had done so to address Madison.

"We need to talk," she told her. "Alone."

"How many are there?"

It was still dark outside, with the promise of sunrise on the horizon as the color of the sky began to change to a pinky-orange above the distant mountains.

"Gotta be at least a dozen, maybe more."

"Jesus." Madison rubbed at her forehead. "Looks like you were right. Again."

"Yeah, well, I'm really starting to hate being right all the time," Lumen said. "But it is nice to know I'm not completely paranoid."

"And those people at the church…"

Lumen nodded. "Must have said something to rub her the wrong way. I'm starting to get the feeling that she doesn't take difference of opinion very well."

Madison was silent for a moment as she dropped deep into thought and considered their options. "Where the hell do we go from here? Back to the boat?"

"That's one option. Not exactly one I think everyone will be on board with, no pun intended. We've got some time to figure it out."

"Enough time for Travis to get back."

Lumen frowned. "Back from where?"

Madison hesitated before she replied, "He went after Chris."

Lumen expression turned incredulous. "Where did Chris go?"

"He ran off. Just after the gunshot." Madison watched her steadily for a moment, considering whether to include the rest of the story. "He had a knife. He was standing over Alicia and me."

"With a knife?" Lumen repeated, the disbelief in her expression echoed in her tone.

"I have no idea what he was thinking."

Lumen gave herself a moment to chew on that detail, recalling the way her mind had gone to him at the sound of the gunshot. "Well, I doubt it was to murder the two of you in your sleep. Maybe he was just…" She fought to come up with an excuse that would justify the odd behavior. "Which direction did they head?"

"I'm not sure. Travis will find him," Madison said, sounding certain, "He'll bring him back. Once they're here, we can figure out our next step, go from there."

Lumen didn't know how to tell her the likelihood of Chris coming back after something like that. He'd had a hard enough time with the Reed stuff, and with the accusations of what had really gone on back at the church. Just as she was about to open her mouth, the sound of the door closest to them opening drew their attention. It was Strand. He glanced between them, then gave Lumen a small nod. It was time.

The rhythmic scrape of metal on dirt kept Lumen grounded as she tasked herself with keeping watch over the exiled man on a mere four hours sleep, forgetting for a moment that she had been exiled, too. She scanned the faces of the few members of Celia's staff that had stopped by to watch Strand work, picking up on the hushed whispers but unable to translate much of them. Nervous eyes went to the rifle clutched in her hands as they spoke. She had gone back for it, pleased to find she had hidden it well enough after all, and this time had loaded it. She had no real intention of taking a shot at anyone should they try anything, but was happy enough with the message it sent – that whatever they did try, she had every intention of standing her ground.

"You sure you don't want to take turns with that?" she asked Strand, "I'm pretty good at digging myself into holes."

It was only a couple of hours past sunrise, and they were already beginning to feel the heat. Strand had taken his shirt off sometime before to feel the breeze, as warm as the wind was, and still, the sweat dripped down his face, arms, and back. He chuckled, though there was an empty quality to it, given the circumstances. "No. This is one hole I need to dig for myself."

"Have some of this, at least. I've seen trained soldiers pass out in this kind of heat," she told him, thinking back to her many days spent in the Afghan desert.

Strand looked up at her and saw she was holding out one of the bottles of water Madison had thought to bring down to them earlier. He looked at it a moment, then accepted it, pausing from his work to take a much-needed drink. He closed his eyes as he focused on the cool sensation trickling down his throat. It was a brief respite, but he'd take it. Holding the bottle back up to her, he gave a grateful nod. "You've still got your gun," he noted, watching as she set the water back down beside her own.

"They haven't tried to take it off me, yet."

"And when they do?"

She threw him a look. "What are they going to do? Exile me twice?"

"Maybe I should be digging two holes," he replied, as he tossed a shovelful of dirt over his shoulder.

"According to Celia, that was the plan, no?"

Strand looked back up at her again, then resumed his digging, this time with greater vigor, as if her reminder of his self-imposed death sentence had given him a renewed appreciation for the life he had decided keep.

"That was her, up at the church, right?" Lumen went on, eyeing him for a reaction, but he continued to focus his attention on his work. "All those dead parishioners? Christ. What the hell is this woman's deal? And all the infected in the wine cellar? Now, that's a massacre waiting to happen."

"It's what she wanted for Thomas."

"And for you?"

"Maybe," he replied, but the look on his face after he said it suggested otherwise. Celia hadn't liked Thomas being with him in life, he doubted she would have kept together for whatever came after that.

"If I recall, you're usually good at coming up with plans. Any thoughts?"

"No," he said, surprising her with the passive acceptance in his tone.

"Back to the boat?" she tried

He looked over at her, panting as he thrust the blade of his shovel into the tough soil. "I'm wondering," he began, forcing out the thought between grunts of exertion, "why you… are asking me."

"Your plan got us this far," Lumen reasoned, unable to see what he was getting at.

"I think that you need new orders."

"What?"

"You said it yourself, you promised to get everyone here, safe and sound, and now we are. Well, relatively speaking. You've done what you set out to, and now you have no idea how to exist without your mission."

A strange expression had come over Lumen as she considered this. Her immediate thought was to deny it, a reaction so knee-jerk that it felt defensive.

Strand waited a moment for a reply, but as she continued to remain silent, he went on, "You're asking me as in 'what will we do? Where will we go?' There is no 'we' anymore, Lumen. We made a deal, and we both held up our ends. Now our business is completed. Don't act like we owe each other anything more than that."

She stared at him a moment, then her strange expression fell away, replaced by her usual look of weary humor. "Guess I'll have to throw away the friendship bracelets."

"You've spent your whole life living up to other people's expectations, Lumen," he told her, "Now you have the world at your disposal. You can go and do anything you want. No more superiors, no more orders to follow. Just you and that gun of yours. And perhaps Nicholas, if you can get him away from his mother for long enough."

"I take one, I take them all, you know that. Hell, I doubt there's any place we could run to that she wouldn't find him."

It would be easy enough, convincing Nick to leave. He had abandoned his family countless times before while chasing his next high, but it wasn't something she could ask of him. She knew what it did to the family left behind, and as much as the privacy would be a welcome experience, she just couldn't inflict that kind of worry on Madison – not when she had been in that position herself so many times before. Still, part of her wondered how far they could make it before she noticed they were gone.

A familiar, rasping growl ripped her from her thoughts. The sound was distant, but after all the time she had spent around them, there was no mistaking the sound of the infected. Strand paused from his work, uncertain if he had really heard what he thought he had, but one look at the soldier's face told him she had heard it, too. She reached down to help him out of the hole, glancing in the direction of the cellar, as she pulled him up. But as she listened carefully, realized that the sound wasn't coming from that direction.

"Oh my god, Nick!" Madison called from somewhere over by the courtyard.

Lumen left Strand's side in a flash, her heart pounding in her chest as she ran towards the voices. She came to a halt in one of the archways that looked out to the courtyard. Nick was covered in blood and gore, but the growls weren't coming from him – from what she could tell, he was okay. The growls were coming from Luis, who he held at arm's length, bound and gagged.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Lumen turned to see Strand approaching but left before he could say anything. She and Nick had implied they would take care of Luis when they had carried him down to the engine room, and by 'take care of' Lumen had meant doing what had to be done once he passed. Nick, on the other hand, had taken it a little more literally. She should have known better than to think he would put Luis down once she had left the room, as he had promised he would, but she hadn't been able to deny him the extra time with the man, not when he had looked so genuinely upset by his death.

A door opened to her right as she walked towards him, and Celia stepped out looking both calm and grateful, despite the horrible state of her son. Lumen stopped to watch as two of Celia's men stepped up to take over from Nick. As much as they tried to maintain their composure in front of Celia, it was still clear how uncomfortable it made them to be this close to one of the infected.

"What do you see?" Celia called to those who had begun to gather around the outer paths of the courtyard – rightfully keeping their distance. They eyed their fearless leader warily as Luis continued to pull at his binds, his eyes bloodshot and skin sallow-looking. "Look at him. Is this death?" she asked.

Lumen looked. Yep, definitely death. She had certainly been around it enough to make the distinction.

"What you see is my son," Celia went on, sounding increasingly close to a preacher, "Changed, yes, but no less my son."

One hell of a change, Lumen thought. She wondered if he was destined for the cellar, too, or if Celia would find someplace of higher honor for him in the house. If that was the case, then they were definitely high-tailing it out of there. To her disappointment, she caught Nick smiling at Celia's words. Celia smiled back at him.

"My Luis, who you have brought back to me. There are many who do not understand, but you are not one of them. Why?"

Nick shrugged. He looked around at those watching and his gaze landing on Lumen, who lingered a few feet away. "I don't know," he said, turning back to Celia.

"You belong here, with us. With me," she told him, "Stay."

"And the others? My family?"

Lumen saw what this was, now, and felt some relief that it wasn't simply some kind of initiation – some sign of Nick truly giving himself over to this woman's beliefs. It was a bargaining chip. Or perhaps from Nick's point of view, a peace offering.

"You want to do the right thing," Celia said to him, "But they're not like you."

"They're not bad people," Nick replied.

Celia glanced away to consider this, then, sensing the close presence, looked over at Lumen, who adjusted the strap of her rifle awkwardly, not at all helping Nick's cause.

"And when they look at my son, what do they see?" Celia asked Nick. Looking back at Lumen, the gentleness she had been considering Nick with quickly fell away. "Go on, say it."

Nick glanced at Lumen, his expression beneath the gore urging her to keep her mouth shut. In this one instance, she managed to bite her tongue. He had gone to this length to negotiate her position there; she wasn't about to make that all for nothing.

"A monster," Celia answered for her, staring at her as if she were waiting for Lumen to slip up and show how she really felt. "And what do we call those who destroy them? Which is the real monster?"

It took every fiber of Lumen's being not to open her mouth, then. She thought of the church, of the innocent parishioners and the children among them. She thought of the look on Nick's face as he had been forced to put an axe through the head of the little girl.

"My family won't hurt anyone," Nick said.

Celia turned back to him. "You can't change them."

"Please."

She searched his eyes and seemed to fall for whatever it was that had made Lumen think it was a good idea to leave him in charge of Luis – the same thing that always managed to get the better of her.

"You will be responsible for their actions while they are here."

"Yes," he agreed automatically.

"Tell your family they can stay."

Relief spread across Nick's face. "Thank-you."

"But not Victor Strand. He is not welcome here."

The relief began to fade. "Celia—"

"And neither is she."

Lumen stared at the finger Celia was pointing towards her.

Any remaining relief Nick felt was gone.

"Celia," Nick tried again, as she turned away. "Celia!"

But the woman ignored him, following after her men as they led Luis off to whatever part of the hacienda he would now occupy, carrying herself in an infuriatingly self-assured way, as if she hadn't just condemned two people to the infected wasteland beyond her gates.

Nick turned to Lumen. "I'll get her to change her mind."

"Nick."

"She trusts me."

"Nick, forget it."

"What are you talking about?" he frowned, moving towards her, his eyes imploring, "I want you to stay here. We're safe here."

"No, we're not," Lumen replied, doing her best not to falter under his gaze this time.

"She's right," Madison said, as she approached.

Nick threw her a look.

"Celia is dangerous, Nick." She looked her son up and down, at the blood covering his body, and shook her head. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking of us, of our safety."

"Our safety? What about your safety, Nick?"

Nick looked at his mother, shaking his head as if her concern was ridiculous, like she was missing the point. "What else was I supposed to do? Just let her kick us out?"

"We could have figured something out."

"Come on, mom."

"I don't like you going out there, Nick!"

"Nothing happened!"

Lumen was struck by a memory, suddenly fifteen again and eavesdropping on an argument between her brother and her own mother. The similarity was glaring and, at that moment, so was Nick's age, as he stared back at Madison with all the confident naivety of a teenager.

"Nothing this time," Madison said, "but what happens when you get into trouble out there and you're on your own?"

He snorted and shook his head, leaning in, "It wouldn't be the first time." He watched Madison's face, waiting for the intended meaning to hit home before turning back to Lumen and taking her gently by the arms. "I'll talk to Celia, okay?" he assured her, with the warm smile he had denied his mother, before moving off towards the house.

There was something different about him, Lumen noticed. It was the same change that had come over him back in the tent when they had arrived on shore to collect Luis. It was like a ritual when he put on the blood; the sunny disposition disappeared, replaced by a new, nihilistic kind of confidence. She could relate it back to the drug use, she supposed – a disregard for his own wellbeing, as well as that of the worried people around him, as he sought out his next thrill. Or maybe it was just that he was finally able to utilize the skills only an ex-junkie could possess. It was the reason Strand had singled him out back in the pens, after all.

"I probably should have told him about the parishioners," Lumen said, though she hated the idea of forcing him to relive the moment with the little girl, remembering how broken he had looked sitting in the dirt.

Madison held a rare look of defeat. "He has that look in his eyes again," she said softly, as she stared after him.

"It's just this shit with Celia," Lumen assured her as if his years of addiction had nothing to do with it – as if his own mother didn't know better. "The faster we get out of here, the better off we'll all be. Do you have a watch?"

Madison looked down at her wrist, at the watch she had continued to wear out of sentiment rather than practicality. It had been through a lot since LA, chipped, scratched, and quite possibly water-logged, but it was one of the last things her husband had given her before his death years before. "Not one that works," she replied.

"Well, find one. If Travis and Chris aren't back by noon, I'm going out there to find them."

"What are you going to do in the meantime?"

"Make sure that hole gets used for Thomas," Lumen said, as she started walking back towards the garden, "Not for the man digging it."

Strand was already back at work when she returned. But he wasn't alone.

"Don't put him in the ground," Daniel was telling him, standing over the hole with a distant look on his face. It was the same expression he'd had the night before when he had told her about the dead in the cellar. Like he wasn't all there. "This place is unholy. It's infected. Even the dirt. The walls in this place. The woman and her dead. Your friend, he won't rest. He'll come back. They all do, but they're not the same. And they hate you for it."

"Sorry to interrupt," Lumen said, frowning, as she stepped towards them.

Strand looked up at her. "Don't be."

"Didn't realize you had company."

"I wouldn't call it that."

"He should not put him in the ground," Daniel told her.

"Where's Ofelia? Did she find you?"

"She is fine," Daniel assured her, even though it wasn't what she had asked, making her feel even less confident about his current level of sanity.

"And you?" she asked.

Daniel just chuckled to himself, as if she was a fool for not being able to see for herself, and then started to walk away. She watched him, noting the paranoid way he looked around as if someone was going to pop out at any moment and attack him. Given the events of the last few hours, it wasn't entirely out of the question, but then Daniel hadn't been directly on the receiving end of Celia's wrath. As things currently stood, he still had a place there.

"What the hell was that about?" Strand asked, once Daniel was gone.

"He hasn't been well. Or so I'm told."

"No kidding."

"Who are we to deny the old man a little psychotic break. We've all been there," she said dryly.

"Speak for yourself," Strand replied. He looked over at her briefly, then focused back on his digging. "You seem better, now," he commented.

"I'm saving it for the next emergency," she joked, before thinking back to that moment on board the Abigail. It was a horrible, out of control feeling, and if that was the kind of episode Daniel was experiencing now as a fellow veteran, she certainly didn't envy the man.

"So, did it work?" Strand asked, snapping Lumen out of her thoughts. She frowned. "Nicholas's little scheme," he clarified, "Did he manage to convince Celia to let you and the others stay?" Noticing her curious expression over his failure to include himself in this, he added, "There was never a chance she would let me stay here, no matter what Nicholas did. Not after what I did."

"No," Lumen said, "Well, yes. He and the others can stay. Not that Madison wants to. But looks like you and I are in the same boat. Figuratively speaking, this time. Or maybe not."

"You're not staying?"

"The woman who poisoned the townsfolk seems to think I'm too dangerous."

Strand looked over at the rifle strapped to her back, and the two handguns that now sat in proper holsters on her hip.

"What gave her that idea?"

They were silent for a moment, with only the scrape of the shovel and the splatter of dirt to fill the void.

"On the plus side," Lumen said, "She would have been a terrible in-law."

Without skipping a beat, Strand replied, "And it would have been worth it. I would have happily endured every moment of that woman's insanity if it meant another moment with him."

Lumen stared down at the white sheet that contained Thomas's body. She had been wanting to know Strand's weakness since LA, since he was so adept at uncovering the weaknesses of those around him and using them to his advantage. But now that she did know it, as it lay bared in front of her, she couldn't help but feel pity for the man who had antagonized her so much. "I'm sorry," she said, and this time she really meant it.

Sensing the rare, genuine sentiment, Strand paused from his work and looked up at her, but before he could reply, his attention was drawn to the archway beyond where she stood, where Madison was approaching. Lumen turned to follow his gaze.

"Speaking of difficult in-laws," he joked dryly, before returning to his digging. Lumen gaze a soft snort.

"It's noon," Madison said, with a pointed look. Her tone had a touch of worry. She had expected Travis to be back by now, with or without Chris. But she had to have known better than to expect him to come back without his son. She thought of the countless times she had gone after Nick – how she had refused to give up on him – but that only made her worry more. She would never expect Travis to choose them over his own son…she just hoped it hadn't come to that.

Strand looked between the two women, missing the context of Madison's announcement, but not particularly caring.

Lumen nodded. It was later in the day than she had thought.

"Alicia saw Travis headed for the back gate this morning," Madison told her.

"Alright, well, that's a start at least. They've got a bit of a jump on me, but with any luck, they won't have gotten too far."

"I know Travis, he'll try to stay close, bring Chris back to where he thinks it's safe."

"If he has the choice."

Madison gazed at her in a way that said even if he didn't, if Lumen managed to find them, she would have to make that choice for them. "I need you to find him. I need you to bring him back."

"I'm on it." Lumen looked down at Strand.

"Guess you found your mission," he commented, resting on his shovel.

"Yeah, I guess I did. Guess you were right. Feels wrong, though."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I didn't think anyone was allowed to leave the Hotel California," she replied, and Strand chuckled.

She stood for a moment, realizing if she didn't make it back before sundown that she might never see him again. She doubted that he would wait around for her once he was outside the gates, even if she was the only other person from their party to be thrown out. He didn't strike her as the sort of person to need other people – not unless it was for some calculated scheme, and as far as she knew he was currently well out of those. She thought back to the Abigail, how ready she had been to be rid of his company, but how much she had actually enjoyed the banter. Madison was right, there was an odd familiarity between them; a strange likeness that was probably exactly why they butted heads.

She turned back to Madison and took out her second sidearm – the one Strand had used on Thomas, which she had convinced him to let her hang on to. Not that it had taken a lot of convincing, considering what he had used it for – in fact, he'd seemed happy to be rid of it. She held it out to her. Madison seemed to hesitate and then took it.

"Watch out for him," Lumen said, nodding towards Strand, not bothering to cover up any sincerity this time. "And try to keep Nick away from Celia." The thought occurred to her to bring him along with her to keep him out of trouble, but she knew that if she did run into Chris, seeing his step-brother would only drive him further away.

"Don't have to tell me that," Madison replied, not specifying which part she was talking about. Lumen started to move off towards the room she had been sharing with Nick to grab a few essentials before she headed out, when Madison added, "Bring him back to me."

It was then that Lumen knew how Madison really felt about what had happened.

Him. Not them.

Against her will, and against Nick's advice of not trying to solve everyone else's problems, Lumen felt this little detail snag in her brain. Chris had been right after all, and she would still have to find a way to convince him otherwise. She would still have to find a way to convince him to come back to a family that didn't want him there, a family who feared him. She wondered if she would manage to come up with a good enough argument in whatever time it took her to track him down. If she did manage to track him down.

Packing enough water for three people, the leather jacket she had found back at the air-crash site (in case she was still out after dark), the pair of binoculars she had snagged from Strand's LA pad, and the small stockpile of ammunition she had left, Lumen headed out towards the back gate. Not in the mood for confrontation, she had avoided the kitchen, taking some apples from the orchard on her way out instead. She didn't plan on being out for any longer than a day, hoping that Travis and Chris would do the smart thing and find somewhere to bunker down for the night rather than travel through the dark, leaving her time to catch up to one or both of them. Then she would bring them back and work out their next steps from there.

Just this once, she hoped that things would be that easy.

Her first indication that those hopes would not be met was watching Travis tackle Chris to the dirt. The second was watching Chris attack his father with a knife.

She had spotted the small cluster of houses through her binoculars, following the only road that led from the back of the property. It was human nature to stick to a path, even when you were trying to run away from something. It was familiar, structured, and offered the promise of leading to something else. It was a sign that people had ventured down the same path before. That and the footprints in the dirt that hadn't been disturbed, since it didn't seem like many people were traveling this particular road these days. The prints had soon become bloody. It seemed bizarre that someone would be traveling through the countryside barefoot in this heat. Unless that someone had been in too much of a hurry to bother with shoes. With that in mind, she had continued to follow the tracks.

That's when she had reached a small crest on a hill and witnessed just how much trouble she was going to have in getting Chris to co-operate.

"Hey!"

Her shout had distracted Chris long enough for Travis to disarm him, but moments later Chris had shoved him away.

"Get off me!"

"Chris!" The look on Travis's face said enough, and Chris could see it, too. He had gone too far this time. There was no coming back from this.

"Look at me!" he shouted, "I'm no good! I can't do this anymore, Dad!"

"Chris." The softer voice managed to cut through the tension, and Chris finally looked back over at Lumen, embarrassed to have her see him in such a state. He was on the brink of tears.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, his voice cracking from the residual emotion of the scuffle with his father. Tears began to spill down his cheeks.

"I came to find you."

"I'm not going back. Lumen, I can't," he cried, desperately, "I can't go back!"

She tried to think of something to tell him, some lie that might convince him to go along with her plan, but after walking over an hour she still hadn't managed to come up with a way to persuade him to return to the step-family that so clearly feared him. Even his own father looked terrified.

"We'll figure something out," she told him.

"No."

There's was a finality to his reply that made her realize he was never going back. This wasn't attention-seeking behavior. He had never intended to be found.

"Chris," Travis stepped in now, "We can work this out. I'll talk to Madison. We can fix this."

"I don't want it to be fixed, Dad! I can't live with those people! I see how they look at me, now. They think I'm a monster."

"That's not true."

But Chris wasn't looking at him. He was looking at Lumen.

"You told me you would help me," he said to her.

She gazed at him for a moment. He seemed to be waiting for something. Then she realized what he was asking of her.

"I can't abandon them, Chris."

"You said you'd have my back."

"I said we needed to stick together. There's a difference."

"How? I need your help. Please."

She didn't speak for a moment. He watched the different emotions flicker across her face as she thought it over. Then she finally seemed to land on an answer. She looked up at him. The smallest touch of relief graced his features. He turned and started to walk back towards the houses.

"Chris, where are you going?" Travis called to him.

"I need to get a few things," he replied. The sudden change in his temperament was not lost on his father.

"What the hell is this?" Travis asked, turning back to Lumen, but she looked almost as confused as he was, like it hadn't yet fully registered what she had just agreed to.

"A change of plans," she supposed.

"What do you mean? Did you plan this? Did you tell him to do this?"

Lumen scowled. "No. I had nothing to do with this." Though she wasn't sure that was entirely true. She watched as Chris disappeared behind one of the houses.

"He had a gun to a kid's head in there," Travis told her.

Her thoughts flew back to her own display on the boat, back at Catrina Island.

"He trusts you," Travis went on, "He trusts your judgment more than anyone's, for whatever reason."

"So, I'll help," she told him. But she could tell from his expression that, given the kind of examples Chris had been following, it wasn't the kind of help he wanted. "We need to figure out what we're going to do."

"We need to get back to the house."

"Celia kicked us out."

Travis stared at her. "What?"

"Well, she banished me and Strand. But Madison wants out, too."

"Why?"

"There's infected in the cellar. Celia's family, friends, maybe people she's killed. Those people at the church? That was her."

"Oh my god. So, then what was the plan? We were all going to leave? Back to the boat?"

"We didn't have a plan yet. Madison sent me out to bring you both back. That's about as far as we got. We were going to work out the rest once we were all together again. Take a vote or something, I guess."

"She sent you for both of us?" Travis asked, and Lumen realized he had figured out the truth of the situation, too.

She shook her head.

"I can't leave him out here."

"I know that."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I'd help him."

"How? How are you going to help him?"

Lumen thought it over for a minute. She knew what she had to do, but could only think about what it meant for the others left behind. For Nick. "I'll come with you."

"No. You need to go back and stay with the others. Keep them safe."

"Madison has things handled. Look, Chris wants my help. Maybe I can help him, maybe I can't. But we need to convince him that we need to stick together as a group. Madison isn't going anywhere without you. She made that abundantly clear to me when she sent me out here. They have a place to stay. We know where to find them. So, until then, we stick to the roads and don't travel too far, then we can find our way back when the time comes."

Chris reappeared from behind the house, now carrying his jumper and a handgun he had stashed. He looked up at Lumen and his father, his expression far calmer than it had been moments earlier, almost smiling. Then he looked past them and the smile dropped from his face. He froze.

Nick stood on the rise, looking down towards them, covered in blood once again. He took in the scene with mild confusion, then began the descent to meet them.

"What's going on?" he asked, once he reached Lumen's side, stepping up between her and Travis. He glanced from one face to the other, then over at Chris, who continued to hang back.

"What are you doing out here?" Lumen asked.

"Mom said you took off. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

The sentiment sent a pang of pain through her chest. She didn't know how she was going to tell him.

"Look, it'll be dark soon," he told them, "We need to start heading back."

"Did you talk to Celia?" she asked.

He gave no response, dropping his gaze as he avoided the question.

"She's never going to let me stay, Nick. No matter what you say to her."

He looked up at her again and frowned. "So, then, what's the plan?"

Lumen was silent for a moment. "I'm going with Chris." Catching the look of absolute confusion on his face, she went on, "Look, Travis and I are going to help him, we'll figure out whatever's going on with him, and we'll bring him back."

Nick looked over at his step-brother, at the hateful way Chris looked back at him, and started to get a better read on the situation.

"How long is that going to take?"

Lumen just looked at him, and he could tell she didn't know.

"We will come back," she said, enunciating each word clearly as she sensed his doubt.

"You don't have to do this. Let Travis look after him."

"Nick…" She wondered how she could tell him how very much this was on her. How she had led Chris down this path with praise and misplaced advice. How she had allowed them to share their darkest secrets with each other and confide some even darker beliefs in how the world worked now. She had pushed him towards this cliff, and now it was on her to bring him back away from it. She was the only person he had shown any sign of listening to, now. Travis might have been the only real family he had left, but the trust just wasn't there. It had died the moment his mother had.

"We'll come back," she assured him.

Nick considered her for a moment.

"I promise, alright?"

Whatever belief he'd had in her previous statement evaporated with those words. He'd heard it too many times before – from his friends, from Alicia, from his mother… from his father. Lumen watched the way his face changed and instantly regretted saying it.

"We'll see each other again," she told him, but the part of himself he had allowed to attach to her was retreating now, the trust he had instilled with her slowly being invaded by doubt. He looked over at Travis.

"Tell Madison you didn't find us," Travis said, "You never saw us, okay?" It was the only way he could make her understand. Maybe she would wait for him. Maybe she would hold onto that hope, as she had so often with Nick.

Realizing there was no way of talking them out of this, Nick turned back to Lumen one last time. The hurt in his expression was almost enough to make her change her mind. Almost. She had her new path now, and a new mission to go with it. She only hoped that fate had her back on this one and that it would lead her to him once again, as it had back in LA.

The ache in her chest intensified as he turned and started to head back, urging her to go after him and make things right, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. As she watched him walk away, Lumen began to see the pain for what it was – the very real possibility that, after everything they had been through together, she might never see him again.

A/N: Each chapter is always work, but this one was an endeavor. I've been wanting to get to this point in the story for almost four years now, and you would not believe how good it feels to have finally made it. This is what I would consider a major turning point in the storyline. We're so close to S3, too!

I'm really bad at replying to reviews (but plan to do better next time around!), so I'm going to take a quick moment to say thanks to anyone who did take the time to send a lovely message. To AJ Granger, I don't want to give much away, but I will say S3 will be included (with my own spin on it, of course). I'm actually really excited about that storyline! I have a lot written for it already. Oops! To Glaring Eyes, they have done it before! It was a shower scene back when they went to retrieve Luis, but I kept it very subtle. And in regards to things looking like S1 Fear in the real world – I went back to reread from the start just as a refresher, and some of the things I wrote about have actually happened. Definitely a weird time to be alive right now, but I'm grateful for every moment of it. Lastly, thanks as always to anr0017, for still letting me bounce ideas off of her after all this time.

Thanks for reading!