Something was crushing Skyler's chest. She fought for breath, and that pressure and struggle for air were the most urgent things that started to wake her up. Her lungs were burning. It was suffocating her.

Lauren get it off of me-

It took her a bit to remember that her sister was, in fact, dead. So that meant…

Skyler heard a growl unnervingly close to her ear. Instantaneously her eye slammed open, and she was confronted with the sight of fucking teeth. Before she could even curse or scream or whatever she'd been about to do, she tensed and kneed with every bit of the force she could muster. Her knees made contact with a rather firm belly and she was rewarded with a sharp, gasping yelp of pain and the pressure leaving her. She coughed, her chest still aching.

Jesus-absolute-fuck his breath smelled like death! She must have passed out for a minute and the leaper had gotten on top of her. He was at least fifteen feet away now, sagged halfway over, panting and surely in a world of hurt from taking a hard blow to his injured stomach. She frantically reached for her knife, wheezing all the while, and fought her way to her feet.

"I'm not- fucking dead yet! Gonna have to work harder than that for… for-!"

Wait a fucking minute. She… wasn't where she thought she was.

In utter bafflement she briefly looked off to the side, trying to make sense of this. She didn't even have the chance to get her bearings before something struck her hard in the back.

"OUCH! What in the fu-!"

The question of what had just happened was answered when she turned back around, only to see the goddamn Hunter lob another thick book in that general direction, seemingly unwilling to actually get any closer. Fortunately it seemed that both his aim and hand-eye coordination left something to be desired and it came nowhere close, but that didn't stop him from throwing a third. She blinked hard in near-amazement.

"Oh you little asshole. Wait until I get over there, and g- get my hands around-... fucking…"

Not far into her ridiculously slow trek, she wound up going to a knee to catch her breath, and after a bit of trying to get to him like that just collapsing face-first to the carpet. Fuck she was exhausted. She could faintly hear the leaper still whining to himself nearby.

After a minute of trying not to choke to death… and shockingly not finding herself with claws digging into her… she eased herself back up into a sitting position to look around. It was dim, but she appeared to be in some sort of reading room, seemingly undisturbed by the apocalypse that had happened outside. Padded with a couple of couches, comfortable chairs, even a decorative fireplace. The tables were still strewn with a few books, and someone had even forgotten their backpack. It looked like a freeze-frame, almost. A hell of a lot less scary than anything lurking outside, anyways. A couple of narrow windows spaced the walls, probably just big enough for either of them to fit through, one of which was open.

And she had to have gotten here somehow. The only problem was that there was really only one explanation for that. Not to mention that the leaper had apparently been quite literally on top of her for some unspecified amount of time, and here she was, still breathing, sort of.

She needed a drink. There were about half a million questions about how impossible this should be and she got an unfortunate feeling she wasn't easily getting any of them answered. Her head was spinning, and it at least probably wasn't just because she'd inhaled enough smoke to pass out.

Skyler finally felt stable enough to make it to her feet. The Hunter bared his teeth and visibly tensed, looking up warily, but made no further move.

What was even going through his head?


He had been entirely intending to kill her just before she'd woken up. He'd been crouched over her prone body, heart racing and her throat in his sight, so close he could hear the thrum of blood pulsing through her. It would have been so easy, and he knew he would have done it. She'd saved her own life by waking when she did.

It was lucky that he'd been here for long enough to know small safe spots like this all around the territory. There was no way he'd have made it back to his nest with… her. The monster. It didn't feel quite right calling her "prey" now. The desire to kill her hadn't changed, and he'd just been imagining what her flesh would taste like. He was sure that if he stopped focusing on not doing it that he'd be overwhelmed with it and rush in screaming. But she'd made herself something different.

Even now he wasn't sure why he'd brought her here. All he'd really known was that he'd been wracked with adrenaline and panic, and he'd had to get away from everything, from the fire and the noise and the Others to try to sort out the mess in his head. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. It had been so hard not to stop and feast on her while she was a non-threat. A part of him was proud, simply by not having thought he was capable of that. It felt wrong denying his instinct what it demanded, but at the same time he hadn't known it was an option.

His muscles tensed as the monster walked a slow half-circle, just… watching him. Like she was getting a better look at him. Sort of like an Other trying to size him up, but not necessarily looking for a fight.

Suddenly it occurred to him that he had the chance to do the same. Despite everything, and the fact that she was still terrifying, he was interested. Maybe it'd at least help him understand. Hesitantly, muscles coiled like he was readying for a pounce, he shuffled onto all fours.

Do it! Kill it now!

For a second he was floored by the impulse, actually did snarl and his claws dug the floor underneath him. The monster tensed in turn, gaze hard down at him as she clutched her stabbing-thing. He managed to ease back, internally whispering a steady stream of, Shh. Not yet, not yet, not yet… to himself. Gradually she relaxed as he did, or at least the threat to kill lessened, and the moment passed.

The eye she had left to her was strange and unfilmed, like the other Clean Ones. It was strange how she, the ones like her, didn't look suited for fighting. Their bodies lacked anything like claws, or sharp teeth, or even anything like a grabbing tongue or armored limb to rely on. And yet, just about every time he'd seen them, they managed to bring mass death onto the Others, at least the weak ones and sometimes even strong Others who were unlucky or not smart enough. It seemed for everything the Clean Ones lacked, they were still far better at killing Others than the Others were at killing them.

An unusually soft sound left him as he, always a curious thing, thought about this. He'd always thought that it had been because of their firesticks, but she had already proven that she was threat enough without it. How was that, he wondered? It was nothing he could tell just by looking at her.

As soon as he leaned in any closer in his investigation though (as much as a part of him shrieked that this was still too risky), she pulled back, making uncertain, low mumbling noises. All around, she looked as ready to either recoil or strike at a moment's notice as he was. Tension remained thick in the air; he could feel it on his skin.

Aching as this was, though, he made no first move to attack, and it seemed as long as he held back, so did she. How long could this last before something broke it?


Skyler's poker face was pretty shit, but hopefully it was enough to pull one past on the leaper and convince him she wasn't moderately freaking out internally as she kept on her toes in what felt almost like a coordinated if incredibly tense little tango.

"Hoooly shit," she mumbled to herself, still sort of trying to determine that she wasn't just having some sort of weird dream. "We're not killing each other right now. That's fucked. I mean. You totally look like you wanna kill me, but you're not, are you? This is some bullshit."

It was probably pretty telling that she could think of about five ways that she might react if this leaper suddenly decided to lunge for her, but not what to do about the fact that he wasn't. This was fucking incredible. Or terrifying, one or the other. What was she even going to tell anyone once… she could get hold of…

Her hands felt over her belt, all of her pockets, and blood started draining out of her face as she realized that she was missing the goddamn radio that she'd nearly torched herself over. "Ah no. Oh no no no," she mumbled, gaping openly. She vaguely remembered having been holding it when she'd passed out, she must have dropped it sometime between then and now-

She hardly noticed that the kid seemed to be watching her search as dumbfounded as she was, or that he was fishing around in the pockets of his own sweatshirt, until she looked up... and it turned out to be the goddamned radio. He was holding it uncertainly, probably because he didn't know what the hell it was, or so she guessed. She stiffened.

"That's mine," she asserted, staring down her prize. The Hunter, for his part, didn't budge. If anything, he seemed to take assessment of how she was reacting. And then, as she watched, he took a goddamn step backwards. "Son of a bitch!" she cursed sharply, which only prompted him to growl. Alright, alright. Deep breaths, calm thoughts.

What was he doing, using this as some kind of- of bartering token or something? As fucking impossible as that sounded, it was the first thing that came to mind. That he knew she needed this and was using it to some kind of advantage. It was staggering that she'd given this kid an inch and it turned out that he might be getting clever on her. She'd known these things had the kind of animal cunning to be able to track a person down further than the most dogged hound, but this wasn't something expected. What he could possibly want, though, was another matter.

"You know, I totally could have stabbed you by now. FYI," she grumbled. The second that she fidgeted with her knife grip though, he bared teeth at her, sidestepping once again. Pretty clear indication that she wasn't getting anywhere near like that without a fight.

Fuck it! Just… fuck it. "Fucking… fine! You want the knife gone?" She threw the blade at the floor hard enough that the point stuck. "There. Look. Gone." She accompanied this with a dramatic gesture in its direction. This seemed to accomplish something, at least. The leaper shifted from staring her down to the discarded weapon but then back again, still edging warily.

"And for good goddamn measure." Her assault rifle, at the moment useless besides as a blunt instrument anyways, clattered to the floor next.

"But wait! There's more!" she announced in her best "Billy Mays", about exasperated and baffled enough to try anything, as she kneeled enough to unstrap her calf holster and discard it along with her smaller backup blade.

Skyler threw out her arms, just to show that she was in fact unarmed. This time there was a hesitance as he quickly looked between her and the small pile, as if wondering whether there was still more to come, but, well. He didn't know she carried a switchblade in her boot, too. She gritted her teeth and held out a hand. 'Give it here'.

It was something else how careful these pauses looked. Like, hell. By anyone's guess, this Hunter was probably considering things more thoroughly than she at least did half the time. Finally, he pulled back the arm holding the radio. She held up her arms in defense,

"I swear to god if you throw this at me-!"

It landed dully around the general area of her pile of weapons and, just as soon as that was done, he retreated back into the relative shelter of one of the tables, and thus concluded what had to be the first successful attempt at bargaining with a goddamn zombie. Skyler blinked.

"I, uh. Well. Good. For you."

With that settled, she quickly retrieved the shortwave, biting her tongue in anticipation as she pressed the power button. Come on. Come on. Her heart jumped when the indicator light turned a beautiful, solid green. She punched in the frequency for Midway.

"-reminding you that just because you can't see them… doesn't mean they can't see you. Remember, people. If you're hearing me now, that means you're still alive. Keep doing it for your buddy over at Radio Midway. I'm coming at you now with our track of the hour to keep you pumped and hitting 'em where it hurts…"


The Hunter's pupils constricted into pinpoints. Prey sound. Instantly fresh aggression railed through him at the indication of a clean presence. Where was it? He crept out from his hiding spot, ready to tear into it when he found it. His nose twitched in frustration. No scent aside from his and the monster's. He paced this way and that, searching, but found nothing. Hearing things that weren't there? It would be nothing new. No though, that wasn't right. This seemed to be focused on something.

The… box that he'd given the monster. He'd been concerned that he'd just given her back another weapon, but apparently it was something much stranger. There were voices coming from it. More sounds that he didn't understand. It was aggravating, made his head ache trying to process it. Even if it wasn't "real", he still wanted to wipe it out. He reared up, already starting into a snarl when just as suddenly as the sounds had started they cut off, leaving him wondering if they'd been there in the first place. The monster glared and gave a displeased hissing sound in his direction before storming off towards a small side room. He'd visited here before, knew there was no exit from there, but she closed the entrance and shut herself in there anyways. Shortly after, the voices resumed, at least now muffled enough they could be pushed aside with some effort.

Once she was out of his sight, some of the tension finally eased, and he sagged back towards the floor. He still felt a tremor in his limbs and most movements caused dark spots to swim in his vision, but it was bearable enough to conceal in front of danger. He badly wanted to sleep, but there was far too much going on for that. Now that he found himself "alone", he tangled his claws on the ground and gnashed his teeth restlessly. She was doing something, he knew. Planning something, maybe. What it was, though, he had no idea.

All of his had him… shaken, was the best way he had to describe it. In all of his time that he'd existed, that he remembered, there had been a very certain way that things worked, even if the kind of threats he might face varied. You fought, you killed, you might live for another night. Now, nothing was familiar.

He felt unsteady, not just from being physically weak. Normally when something made him feel like this, he could kill it, or break it, or whatever he had to do to make it go away. Unable to do that, frustration built up. Part of him still wanted to flee, like he'd wanted to do in the burning building. He didn't want to deal with this. He really didn't. He wasn't even really sure what was keeping him here, other than how many questions he still had. As was quickly becoming habit, he stroked the smooth chain in his pocket.

He gave a halfhearted return glare at the entrance the monster had vanished behind and growled, but it lacked much of the aggression he'd meant. All he could really do was wait and see what happened.


There was a long while that Skyler just sat there in the "nook", really practically a closet with one more table and a couple of chairs stuffed snugly into it, just listening to "Umbrella" at a low volume and wondering where she was even going to begin with this. Maybe it was best to start simply. She took a breath. Held down the transmit. And after days of no other truly human contact, the first thing that came out of her mouth was,

"Uh… hi."

Upon taking a second to realize how uninformative and lame that sounded, she cleared her throat and continued, "This is Private Theodora Skyler reporting. I am, uh. Alive. Mostly. You hearing me, Midway?"

There was a moment of pause before Rihanna went silent and a beat later, a reply came through of,

"Hoooly shit, you're not dead. Division 5? Took off for Boston like four days ago? And you're, uh." The man on the opposite end took a second to think before finishing, "You're it?"

Her expression couldn't have been flatter. "Yeah. I'm it." With no one around to see it, she gave the best "jazz hands" she could while holding the radio. "Surprise."

"That's, uh. Not good," their radio man stated eloquently, to which she responded with an equally eloquent,

"No. They fucked up my face. It sucks and I want to leave."

Another low, "Shit," came through. "So, don't hate your buddy here if this is a dumb question. What's your status like? Where are you at?"

Skyler's fist clenched, more out of frustration at the whole situation that strictly at the man. "Well, pal. You know what, what am I calling you?"

"This is Four Dog. You know, like in… Uh. N-never mind. Just. Four Dog is cool."

Nerd. "Right, well. Four Dog. I, uh, am injured. And, oh yeah, I'm missing my fucking eye. That is a thing that has happened. I'm… shit, somewhere around University of New Haven campus I think?"

"And you're alone?"

She tensed. Gritted her teeth for a second. Probably took just a moment too long to respond before a strained, "Yyyeah."

"That was a strange-sounding sort of "yeah", Miss Skyler."

Ah shit, this was a tough part. Now how to handle this? "Well, I… found a kid," she mumbled awkwardly. Four Dog fell silent for a bit.

"Out… there? You found a kid out there?"

Okay, so. 'Ways to explain what was going on without sounding entirely ridiculous'. After a stretch of coming up blank, she wound up sort of nodding to no one in particular. "Uh-huh."

"Out there. For real? Like, no fucking with me. It's gotta have been three months since we pulled anyone out of that point! Been radio silent since then. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

This may have been a hole that she'd started to dig herself into. She stared in the direction of the door, as if the leaper in the next room was somehow going to help her out here. Her foot started to fidget. "I, uh. 'M not sure he's going to make it," she mumbled.

"What? Is he hurt or something?"

"Oh for sure. Pretty sure he got stabbed or something."

Four Dog sighed, staticky through the filter of the radio. "Okay, okay. So. We're still evacuating out of Boston."

Skyler stood back up fast enough to knock over the chair.

"Ah come on! It'll take me a week to get there on foot! Give me a break here! I just told you I've totally got a hurt kid over here! Have some mercy, man. He's got a fucking smiley face on his ID." She was sure Adrian Lamb was well beyond caring about her using him this way.

"Listen, I'm sorry! There's no way I'm convincing anyone to stage an evac there. Place has been overrun for months. It'd be a suicide run. Like. Not even in the action movie, mission impossible way. Like, the "everyone you went with is already dead" way." His tone became more sympathetic after a moment. "...You think you can make it?"

Skyler's mouth felt dry. It hit her again just how very sore she was all over again. It almost felt like someone else as she responded, "Yeah. Totally. I'm a badass."

"I'm pulling for you. You need help from Four Dog, you know what frequency to find me. Peace be with you, sister."

She shut off the radio. No use wasting the battery any more. Let out a heavy groan and sat heavily on the floor beside the upended chair. This was fine. This was totally… goddamn fine. So she had to hike across the entire state to get home. So what?

After all, even after all the shit so far, she was still alive. There was going to be no problem.