After I shot Jenna, it felt like that was it. There was no going on. I was convinced. Then, Clint's silhouette appeared in the mouth of that cave, and there life was again, whether I liked it or not.

Last night, I was sitting in bed, waiting patiently, and in walked the grim reaper, in a camel-colored suit. He smiled at me, then he told me he had no interest in my soul. I laid in bed for hours that night. This world will just not let me go.

They took Clint again. They're using him to help clear areas of the Med Center. Lev's off somewhere too, and the only other person I know here is Abby. And whatever that means, she's busy. And I can't find Mara.

This is a strange kind of torment.

Ninety three percent. Pretty good, but no guarantee, either. So I get neither the promise of life, or the promise of death. This is my existence. So what's changed, I guess? Since the day I was born?

I want to see Dina again. I want to kiss her, on the lips, preferably. I want her to hold me. I want to see JJ. Shit, I'd even be happy to see Dale right now. I want to tell Maria she's as important to me as I seem to be to her. I want to sit by Joel and Tommy, and tell them about this journey. I want to tell Maedlyn I'm sorry, for that sunset.

Instead I get this quiet medical wing, a sunny view of a ruined city through this square window, and a cold, loveless meal.

This better not take forever.

Okay, it could be worse. It's another morning, and everyone's gone again. Last night though, around five, all the 'grunts,' as Abby called herself, came back and the atmosphere changed completely. Pretty much everyone but me is stoked. Lev and Abby ate with me and Clint, then we played more cribbage. A couple of Japanese soldiers came down and found us. I guess I'm kind of a celebrity, woo hoo. Gakuto and Hiro. They were nice. They coaxed Clint and me upstairs, where the Japanese brigade is bunking.

I got a lot more attention than I like. Most of it was in Japanese, but maybe a quarter of them speak some amount of English. They offered us sake, which, I'll take whiskey any day of the week, but honestly it wasn't bad.

Hiro's friend Atsuo had a shogi board, which I guess is like Japanese chess, and that got my attention. We played a game, and I won. He had to stop me a couple times to explain rules differences, but it plays similarly. Then we played again and I guess he got a lot more serious because he kicked my butt. Then I played Clint and kicked his ass, though, so it was good all in all.

People kept playing but I hung back and watched after that, sipping sake out of these little dishes they use. Hiro and his friends told me their story of coming here, and we told them ours. It was pretty crazy. I guess there was an immune girl in Japan, too. The fighting is pretty bad there, though, and more widespread, across different factions. She was being protected by Aka Taka (Red Hawk) in this old building, an actual castle. But then Kizento Shita (The Resolute) attacked because they were trying to dominate the region. It wasn't even about the girl. There was this huge battle. She was killed in the destruction. They couldn't even recover her body. Hiro says everyone in the brigade was crying the night they received the news. Watanabe was devastated.

Hiro says when they heard about me in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, everyone went crazy. When Watanabe got the news, he jumped out of his chair and dropped straight to the floor and started praying.

I don't know what to feel about that.

They were rapt when we started telling our story. Hiro was translating for a few of the guys, and they kept asking over and over about how we left Jackson. I had to say it like three different ways. Yes, it was just the two of us. They couldn't believe it, and just as much the fact that we actually made it.

When I started telling the story, I surprised myself, because in hindsight there were a lot of crazy moments. It was like an epic novel or something. Or a comic book. They were particularly fascinated with Grand Junction, and yeah, the way I broke us out of that jail was pretty shocking. If someone had asked me in that jail cell, and I were being honest, I'd say our chances had been slim to none. I guess that's why I wasn't thinking about it like that at the time. But we made it.

It started getting late, so we said our goodbyes and went back to our bunks. Clint kept going on about the stories from Japan. The war stories and political drama. It was fascinating and terrible at the same time. I indulged him for a while, but the day and the sake must have caught up with him, because he passed out almost all at once. It was amusing. And thankfully, I fell asleep a lot easier too. No nightmares, even.

Grayson stopped me when he saw me this morning. He said it seemed like I kind of brooded my way through the day yesterday, which isn't wrong. He told me if I didn't feel like brooding all day today, I should come to the conference room, he'd let me listen to comms and keep tabs on things. So I guess I'll do that. Better than staring out a window.

I'm actually looking forward to tonight.

Well, it's officially been a week. Life is different here from Catalina. Not nearly as safe, or rosy or comfortable. But other than the food, I like it better.

That first day Ellie told me she felt like she was going crazy, doing nothing all day. I felt for her. After that she started sitting in on central command, listening to comms. She said she was reluctant at first, but it quickly became super interesting. She'd be right by Grayson's side, looking at maps. She started making comments, here and there. Now I hear her voice on the comms pretty regularly. I don't get to chat with her or anything, she's just issuing orders, but it makes me smile every time.

Gotta say, I like how the Fireflies operate. No mercy for the Great Staters that first day, the only right play. But with the infected, they're ruthless.

The infected are instinctual, but they aren't smart. The Fireflies use that against them. Most of the infected we kill are during drives, which is what they call luring a tactically selected area of infected down a single corridor or line of approach, then mowing them down. Sometimes we drop twenty or thirty at once. Bloaters, shamblers, doesn't matter, against a firing line of automatic rifles, they have no chance. I almost feel bad.

We're a moving war party, too. Thirty of us in platoon Bravo, another thirty in Alpha. Everyone else is perimeter, guarding all the areas we've secured. We can't afford to lose our position, obviously. Most of us are basically grunts, like Abby said, anyone who's good with a gun basically. We've also got demolitions, and engineers, and a food guy. Poor guy has to haul this cart of food around all day, so we don't have to come back until dinner. You can guess demolitions' job. The engineers are interesting. They've got these mechanical door jammers and are also good for any electronic obstacles, which we've had a couple. And on several occasions, when we've had a door we're pretty sure we don't ever want opened again, they weld it shut.

I've probably seen as many infected die in the last few days as Ellie and I have killed since we left Jackson. More, probably. At this point we've secured three of the four 'facility assets' we need, and we're firming up the pathways between them. The ways between them in particular need to be 100% secure, because we can't have twenty guys escorting every scientist or commander or whatever every time they go to and from. We're on track to nail asset four tomorrow.

[Scribbles, half-doodles.]

I'm still worried for Ellie. 93% is not 100%. We haven't talked about it since. I feel bad for being angry at her for not telling me, I shouldn't… but I am still, a little. I can't lie that a part of me wants to fight this. Wants to sneak her out of here and never come back. And I suspect… there's a part of her that would be amenable.

But that's stupid. This is the mission, coming to fruition.

I told her not to take my choice from me, and she didn't. How could I try to take hers?

Time for dinner, and, I suspect, to get my ass kicked at shogi again.

Wow, today was more exciting. We secured asset four. We had a near-shit-show, though.

We had secured a lobby area very close to the asset. We were talking about forming the next drive, but the infected made the first move. One spooked and the rest followed suit, charging down the hall. Now, that's fine, we form up and start firing, but then a bloater busts through the wall a few feet behind us, bringing a bunch of his friends.

Infected got way closer than they're supposed to, but in the end we held the line. Someone thought quick and used their underbarrel grenade launcher on the bloater, slowing progress from that quarter, and honestly they might have saved lives.

There was another point, toward the end, Abby was—Abby's with me, by the way—she was firing and there was office door next to her. I call out the ten-o-clock and she looks just as a stalker is about to pounce on her. She doesn't even flinch, she turns her gun and slams the butt into its forehead, and when it stumbles back, stunned, she blows its dome off. She gave me a little look of thanks. She didn't even look slightly shook. Jesus.

It clicked today. Back in Jackson in the mess hall, when I flexed my arm for Ellie and she said she'd seen better, who she was talking about. God damn it.

Look, I'm not vain. It'd just be nice to hear a little something now and then. 'Lean mass, Clint, nice.' 'Great shot, Clint.' Praise from Ellie is rare and generally faint.

God damn it. I'm being soft again, aren't I? Well fuck it, it's my god damn journal.

How to change the subject…

Oh, hah, I forgot. So you know, things are tough, the Med Center is secure, but not exactly luxury, right? This is front line work. But, people adapt, right?

So everyone bunks in those two wings in the admin building, near command. But Bravo has made a couple… side acquisitions. There have been a couple wings with closed-door beds. We didn't need them, but we secured them anyway, so… they now serve as, you know, conjugal visit arrangements. Not official, of course. I've seen more than one couple go off in the middle of the day, while we're at a break, eating. I guess the captain owed them favors or something. And you know people sneak out after dinner.

I mean I haven't, just… you know, it's funny.

Um… there is…

Eh, it must be bad if I'm too afraid to write it here. Prying eyes and such.

Ah, break's over. Back to work.

Dude. Oh my god, I was going to write about other stuff, but this just happened. Fucking Clint.

So I know about the 'conjugal visit' suites or whatever. Which, fuck you all, can I have nothing? I hunted down Mara last night and you know, talked to her… When she realized what I was about, she was like 'hell, no.' She said if she tried to sneak me out she'd be on latrine duty for the rest of her life. Fuck me.

So anyway, Clint came back at dinner, we ate, same old, same old. I went down to use the latrine—fucking awesome, by the way—and when I come back, he's disappeared. I'm like, wtf. Kind of selfish, I guess, but I'm like 'what better do you have to do than hang out with me?' I went upstairs and Hiro and the guys were welcoming, but Clint wasn't there either.

I come back down a while later, and I see him walking in through East Point, which, the only thing out that way are cleared areas—basically, that's where the day work is. That, and the 'conjugal suites.' He had this look on his face. He was totally embarrassed, which was funny, but I was also envious. I'm all 'who's the lucky girl? Who's the lucky girl?' He refused to talk.

So, I slyly loiter around, talking to people by East Point until a girl 'casually' comes in through East Point, an 'inconspicuous' amount of time later.

And who do I see walk through the doors? Fucking Abby.

She was a little taken aback, but way less obvious than Clint. I was probably more shocked. She just cocks an eyebrow and walks away.

I'm like…

I don't know what to think.

I mean I fully intended to high five Clint, but now it's like should I punch him?

I'm not actually mad. I think I'll just confront him about it. I'm not letting it fly under the radar.

What a dog.

I just checked the calendar, out of curiosity. It will have been a month tomorrow since we took the Med Center. I knew it had been a while, but that surprised me.

Ellie's bed is surrounded by drawings now. She says she spends most of the day doing that, since command is more boring now. She also confessed that it's mostly talk about science-oriented progress now, and that involves mixed feelings for her. I get it.

I asked her about the drawings, if she was showing them off, or what. She was confounded. She said she didn't care what other people thought, she just liked them. Which makes sense.

There are a few of Dina, a bunch of JJ, some of Maria, Tommy—Maedlyn, interestingly—and one of Joel, in a discreet corner. I've refrained from commenting.

It's nice. I wish I could do that. I wish she knew Bev, maybe she would draw her for me. Maybe I'll ask if she could draw mom.

Days are mostly boring now. Now that we're not clearing anymore, they've got me posted as a guard in Oncology. So, boring. But Abby's posted there too, which is a bonus. Don't get to see her on shift, but we take all our breaks together.

She and Ellie are still on the cool side, but they get along alright. Shit, I just remembered that conversation with Ellie, the first time… you know… with Abby.

Damn it, Ellie is such a headache sometimes. She can act so indifferent, when we were on the road. Then this thing happens and she's all in my business. I didn't tell her much in the end, but I did warn her it might not be the last time. And it wasn't, spoilers.

Ellie can deal with it.

Abby's great, actually. At first glance you might think she's stony. And that's what she wants you to think, she's been a soldier pretty much her whole life. She can handle herself as well as anyone I've ever met. She can be icy, but it's only because she knows how fast things can go to shit. Like Ellie. And this whole 'adventure' has taught me a lot, too.

She's got a warm side, same as anyone. Lev obviously benefits from it. I'm starting to a little as well.

We spend a lot of time swapping stories, some funny, some not. We talk about work sometimes, but not so much. I remember when I was talking about all the stuff we saw, crossing the country, she'd commented that she wouldn't mind seeing more of it. Catalina's nice, but she feels a bit cooped up.

She says the soldier life suits her, it's all she's known. So she's good with staying in the Fireflies, but she confessed she was worried about Lev. She said he's adapted to the Fireflies, but it's not really where he's meant to be, she thinks. She doesn't know what to do, though. I feel for her. She's really taken on responsibility for him. Their story is crazy. It's good, though. He's not a burden, he's a gift, she said once. I'm glad they have each other.

Ellie's already sleeping. I can see her, breathing easily under her blanket. I'm glad she's found something like equilibrium here. She complains constantly about being caged up, which is fair, but from another perspective I feel like she's finally being afforded the respect and protection she deserves. Not just because she's immune.

I guess I ought to lights out as well. Until tomorrow.

Well, fuck me for thinking things were getting too boring to stand. Testing started today.

Grayson warned me last night, all the equipment is good to go. 'You'll finally get what you want.' To leave this wing, he meant. I see now why he called it a 'warning.'

They poked all sorts of holes in me. Mara was the one taking blood samples. I kept being like 'are you done yet?!' There were like fifteen little vials on the table. She smiled and said they were taking as much as they safely could. They gave me a bunch of orange juice afterwards, which was actually great, there's not a lot of that going around.

Then, though, they drew cerebrospinal fluid. Fuck. That. It was this huge needle and it hurt like hell. They kept assuring me it was very important. They poked me in like six spots.

And after that extravaganza they did a CAT scan. It was this huge donut shaped machine, with a sliding gurney thing that rolled into it. They scanned my head.

It was super surreal. Once it started, the lights got dim and they told me to lie as still as possible. They rolled me into the cavernous hole and it's like a little dark and claustrophobic, you know. It took like fifteen minutes. The thing keeps making these crazy mechanical sounds over my head, and the whole time there's this strange, electric pulsing sound every other second. It felt like I was in a sci-fi movie.

Afterward I'm like what the hell was the point of that? The science guy, Liam, said it uses electromagnetic tech to basically make a 3d map of my brain. He showed me some of it. It was hard to even tell what I was looking at. It was crazy, though. I could see the infection, for the first time. It spread like a river delta all over the left side of my brain. It was creepy, but… fascinating, too.

Dr. Watanabe was there at one point. He kept thanking me. He's been really respectful… it's nice. It would have sucked if he was a dick.

Anyway, he says they're going to continue to draw fluid as often as they could, to maximize testing. It's very incremental, he said. Meaning all they can really do is test A, and if it doesn't work, test B, and so on.

He says the samples are important because they eliminate, for now, the need for human testing.

Human testing. I had never even thought of that. It's fucking horrible.

I guess I can suck it up.

Of course I asked him about the surgery. He says they will almost certainly still need to do it, and unfortunately he can't tell me when. The testing will decide on that. Probably in a week or two, though.

Clint asked me how it went when I got back. I didn't say anything, I just hugged him. I didn't want to say I was scared out loud. We ate and played cribbage for a while. He asked me if I could draw a picture for him, of his mom. I told him it had been a while, but I would do my best tomorrow. I'm going to bed early.

At least I'll get lots of orange juice.

Clint plays a four. It's pretty limp, but it brings the count to nine, which means Ellie's five isn't likely to get her a point, and in fact if she plays it, Lev could get a straight off of it.

"Why do we always play Cribbage?" Ellie asks.

"Because everyone but you likes it," says Abby. Her eyes focus up. "And if you would just admit it, you like it, too."

Ellie grunts. She plays the five. Lev plays an ace and pegs the point for making fifteen. He got a lot better really fast.

"It's true, Ellie," says Lev. "You don't seem to like the playing part, but when you get a good crib you get super excited."

She tries not to smile and fails. "Well it's nice to get something other than face card now and then."

Clint rolls his eyes, but she doesn't get a full rise out of him.

"We could play shogi," says Ellie, not for the first time.

"Only two people can play shogi," replies Abby.

"Yeah, but it's super interesting to watch," says Ellie.

"Mainly for you," says Clint.

"Plus I'm not interested in losing to you thirty times just to learn how it works," says Abby.

"We could play Go," says Lev. Go is a very different strategy game that the Japanese soldiers had brought with them. It's turn based and strategic like Chess, but consists of playing identical white and black circular pieces freely on a huge open grid. The soldiers had started teaching Lev and he had learned very quickly. He's one of the best players up there, now. He'd been trying to get them to let him teach them for ages.

"That's the same thing," says Ellie, "except we're losing to you thirty times in a row."

"But it's got such depth!" says Lev, earnest pleading in his eyes. "If you like Chess, you would love Go, Ellie!"

He's so cute. He really likes her and it's obvious. Not, like, too much, but a lot. He's great, too. Ellie loves having him around.

"Maybe…" she concedes. She plays a nine and this time she does get fifteen. She moves her peg. "It would probably beat cribbage."

"Cribbage is nice because you don't have to think so—"

Clint is interrupted by the appearance of Grayson around their curtain. They all look up, surprised.

"Evening," he says casually, or as casually as a commander ever sounds. "Where's the strategy games?" Both American and Japanese command had been pleased with the popularity of those games.

"With respect, sir," says Clint, "Cribbage is a game of deep strategy."

Abby scoffs.

Grayson cracks a smile, but bears a serious look when he turns to Ellie. "Coulsen, would you join me?"

Ellie's stomach twists. She stands up, and hesitates. "Can Clint come?"

"He may," says Grayson.

He turns and Ellie follows him, Clint behind her.

"Keep us in the loop?" says Abby.

Ellie nods, half turning.

Grayson leads them into the conference room. It's relatively quiet. Sanchez is at comms, speaking intermittently. The captains are at a table near the back, speaking quietly. They glance her way. Dr. Watanabe is sitting in the same chair as the first night. He bows his head in Ellie's direction, smiling. She bows back, a gesture of respect she's learned from the Japanese soldiers. His translator, Dr. Ikeda, who Ellie has learned is also a talented scientist, sits next to him.

Grayson sits in an open chair and gestures for Ellie to do the same, which she does.

Dr. Watanabe speaks. Dr. Ikeda begins to translate, but Ellie already knows what she is going to say.

"We have arrived at the point in our research where we are ready to perform the surgery. A sample of the infection that your body quelled may lead us to an effective cure in the relatively near future."

Ellie feels out of place, uncomfortable. She nods, not knowing what to say.

Dr. Watanabe speaks again.

"It is a lot to ask. You have been one of the best patients I have ever had. I thank you. Do you consent to the surgery?"

He is asking this time. She turns and looks at Clint. He looks back, but his face doesn't change. It's not stiff, or scared. It's just… Clint. But it makes her feel better, somehow. She looks at Dr. Watanabe.

"I consent," she says quietly.

Dr. Watanabe beams. He almost looks… proud, of her. Grayson is smiling, too, but he doesn't say anything.

"Will it be… right now?" she asks.

Dr. Ikeda translates and Dr. Watanabe's brows jump up.

"Oh no," says Dr. Ikeda. This time, she's speaking to Ellie directly. "It will be early tomorrow afternoon. Apologies, but we ask that you not eat anything between now and then, as you will be under anesthesia. The doctor is as confident as ever in his abilities. Your CAT scan was very helpful. We are close in our research. In fact, we are half done, but there is another half, and it's very key. Only you can give us that."

Half done? Ellie thinks about that. Curing cordyceps? That's… a lot, actually. She's still feeling a little unsteady so she just nods.

"Don't worry, Ellie," says Grayson. "You are in good hands."

"Okay," she says. It's a little awkward. She stands up.

Dr. Ikeda walks over to her. She bows super low, body parallel with the ground. Then she rises and takes Ellie's hands. Her smile is so warm. Ellie starts blushing. Partly because it's such a nice gesture, and partly because Dr. Ikeda is really pretty.

Dr. Ikeda lets go and Dr. Watanabe approaches and bows equally low. He rises and says something in Japanese.

"The land of the rising sun and the land of the setting sun have joined hands," translates Dr. Ikeda. She hesitates slightly, due to the tone of the words. "And if we work together now, these days may be remembered in history."

It's actually really humbling. With that, the doctors leave the room. Grayson is there. He touches her arm.

"I encourage you to get some rest, Ellie."

She says she'll try.

It's kind of cold, in the hospital gown. Ellie tries not to think about that nightmare, with David.

She's sitting in a plastic chair in a little waiting area outside the operating room. They told her it would be about ten minutes five minutes ago. She can feel little trembles, here and there. She looks out the window with determination. It's a beautiful, sunny day. A couple white birds fly by.

The door opens, and Ellie jumps. It's Clint. He closes it behind him. "Hey," he says.

"Hey."

Clint sits down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees. "Hungry?" he asks.

"Oh, fuck you," she replies, turning away. She's starving and he knows it. She also know he's taking her mind off things, and she's thankful. "What was breakfast today?"

"Bacon, eggs. Orange juice and waffles. I made a sandwich."

"Yeah, I bet." She knows it's a lie. Bacon, as if.

"You got me. But when they mint the cure you know they'll finally bring out the good stuff."

"Only if I'm alive to actually hunt up some meat."

He snorts, but sadness touches his face. "Come on now, Ellie. Nothing can kill you. You know that."

"Maybe that's because I hadn't served my purpose yet," she says. She looks out the window again. She says it casually, but it's crossed her mind more than once. "Maybe this is finally it."

"Maybe. But why does that have to be the end?" Clint asks. "What about everything waiting for you back in Jackson?"

Ellie doesn't reply. More of those pretty white birds fly by. She thinks they're doves.

"You have to make it back. You know you're going to be the next mayor."

"What?" that honestly catches her by surprise. "As if, dude. I'm not gonna be in charge of all those people."

"Eh," he says, "I think Maria might disagree."

"I seriously doubt—" Ellie is interrupted by the operating room door opening. It's Dr. Watanabe.

"We are ready," he enunciates in thickly accented English. He must have practiced it. He looks sober, but his eyes carry a determined warmth. He wants to reassure her.

She stands up and Clint rises as well. Without hesitation he walks over and hugs her. "You aren't done," he whispers before letting her go. He walks out without looking back.

Ellie meets the doctor's eyes. "I'm ready, too," she says. She manages to sound like she means it.