May 13, 2018

Once settled in, sleep came quickly to everyone. Hiram was not letting Archie and Veronica share a bed, much to the frustration of Veronica. The rooms ended up being divided as such; Hiram and Hermione in the master, Joaquin, Dilton, and Archie in a second bedroom, and Josie and Veronica in the last official bedroom. There was also an attic with some beds. Malachi was a mystery to place. He was not a girl, nor young enough to be with the teens. Finally, Smithers offered with a dry, even tone that he'd take him up to the attic with him and keep a weathered eye on him.

Veronica argued, thinking Smithers was far too old and frail to deal with a maniacal junkie, but from a smile shared between Hiram and Smithers, Veronica wondered if there was more to his past than she knew.

The next morning, when Josie announced she needed a shower and vacated the room, there was a second set of footsteps. Veronica turned, expecting her father, but was pleased to see Archie.

"Ronnie, can we talk for a second?" He asked, biting his lip.

"Of course," Veronica said with a purr, winking, "We can talk all you want. I think we both could let out some steam."

"Yes," Archie said, then sobered his smile, "No, no. That's not what I mean." He took Veronica's hand and sat on the newly-made bed, "I mean just…talk."

His tone was soft.

"Okay…" Veronica frowned. Archie was never one to turn down anything she offered. It was a shared passion of passions between them. It was why she knew they worked so well. It didn't always have to mean something, it just was. Sometimes, the body needed that release. Veronica had a lot of pressure and frustrations from her parents and if Archie didn't blow off steam like this, then things like the Red Circle happened. It was beneficial to both of them.

But sometimes it was meaningful. Like today, Veronica needed the intimacy, the reassurance, after such a wild, confusing day.

"I…" He began but trailed off quickly. He opened and closed his palms, seemingly unsure of what to say or how to say it.

"Yes?" Veronica asked, encouragingly, rubbing his shoulders.

"Your dad," Archie finally said, his voice scarcely above a whisper, "He…arrested me. For something I didn't do. He'd see my rot in jail just because he doesn't want me dating his daughter." He looked at Veronica and he was begging. But what he was begging for she couldn't say.

"Well, it's a bit unusual-,"

Apparently, this was the wrong way to phrase it, because Archie rocketed up, "Unusual? Veronica, it's insane. This isn't…I don't…" He was pulling away and her heart broke even before he said it, "I love you, but I don't think I can be with you."

"No, don't," Veronica pleaded, "Please, it's okay. You're out of jail now, so,"

"Nothing about this is okay!" Archie threw his hands up, "How can you even say that? If it wasn't for whatever happened yesterday, I'd still be in jail! Because of your father! Hear me with what I'm saying."

She heard the words, but she didn't understand them. Not in the way he wanted her to.

She swallowed, "But, okay, we can work this out."

"I don't know if there is working out 'my girlfriend's dad is threatened by a seventeen-year-old'. Any anonymous anyone on Reddit would tell me this is a big red flag if I posted about it on r/RelationshipAdvice."

"Screw Reddit," Veronica said, "This is us. Not the internet."

"There is no one to double-check with anyway," Archie gave a rough laugh, "Not anymore."

"If you break up with me, there's nothing keeping you safe," Veronica said as Archie began to leave. He turned, face furious.

"What do you mean? You'll ask your father to finish me, heartbroken?"

Veronica's expression soured, "Never, Archibald, and I'm so hurt you'd think that."

"Oh, well, excuse me for coming to that conclusion when you say shit like that. Shit, that sounds like threats. I guess you learned from the best."

Veronica bit the inside of her cheek, trying to not let that low jab hurt her, but hell, she was hurt. But it didn't matter. He was scared and unsure. Wouldn't she be too?

"No, you.." Veronica sighed and then launched into the theory she'd come up with about keeping Veronica in line. When she finished, Archie stared at her incredulously.

"So if I don't keep you in line, or in your imaginary place, your father will for-real kill me?" Archie looked close to crying, "I didn't ask for this crazy relationship! Or this fucked-up world! Or any of it! You hear yourself, I'm done." He leaned on the threshold, "I'm tired, and I'm worried sick about my dad and Betty and Jughead and everyone, and I don't have the energy for this, Ronnie. You have to understand that."

This she did. She lived with it, so there was no way out, but yes, she understood that bone-tired exhaustion.

"I just can't lose you too, though," Veronica whispered brokenly, "Until this..rolls over."

Archie rubbed his chin, "I'll fake it," He said quietly, looking around in case the walls had ears, "Until it's safe. But know this, Veronica, it's just empty words. I don't have it all together to give you more. I gotta protect myself from…" He paused, as though dreading what he was going to say, but said it anyway, "The Lodge Family."

She knew her family was the ruin of everything, but until now, it had never been so apparent. Because it was not just her father, but yes, it was her too. She'd led him to this path that had her father so insanely and unreasonably mad at him. And her mother didn't do any favors to their family by sleeping with Fred Andrews.

She'd destroyed his life and hadn't ever really thought about it before.

"I'm going to find breakfast." He would have kissed her cheek, but since they were alone, with no audience, he gave a curt, awkward nod, "Veronica."

Then, like a ghost, he was already gone.

May 18th, 2018

No one might be saying it, but Veronica was thinking what she knew they were all fearing; this was not going to just go away.

Nearly a week later, much longer than the extended weekend her father had assured, and those things were still dangerous and there was no sign of life from anywhere. The phone lines were still down, communication had come to an archaic stand-still, and Veronica couldn't imagine an end to this in sight. Short of the National Guard knocking on their door to tell them they were safe, Veronica started to be distrustful of anything.

She had been so annoyed her mother had moved her back to Riverdale from her place in New York. She knew she'd been a bitch, but that didn't require a total relocation. Of course, she'd learned that her father had burned any bridges they had in New York, so it was a bit more complicated.

But overall, this year had been such a ride she hadn't been able to contemplate or reflect on the move itself. She had grown happy, yes. So much happier than before. But until today, somewhere, if someone would have asked her where she was from, she would have said New York City.

Now, she wished that someone would ask so she could proudly say 'Riverdale'.

She did not think she would miss this small town with the fervent pang of homesickness that she did.

In their mad dash to gather supplies from Pop's, they'd grabbed a box that someone had assumed to be food, but upon opening it up, had been a package of promotional tee-shirts. Her father had swore under his breath, muttering that it had taken up unnecessary room in the back of the van, but everyone else took one of the shirts with a hint of somewhat morbid humor. They looked like a training crew, all sporting their Pop's shirts at first in jest, but now by necessity.

As stated, everyone had thought this was just a minor event, and they'd be back in a few days.

Therefore, it's not as though anyone had properly packed anything. There were a few things kept up here, but not enough to clothe a whole slew of people.

This meant that by this day, day six, besides Veronica and her parents, the only thing everyone else owned was the shirt of their literal back and their Pop Tate shirts. There had been enough for all the gathered without clothes to take at least three.

"At least they're different designs and colors," Archie had said with a sigh of relief.

'Yes, because being an outfit repeater is such a sin," Joaquin had dryly replied.

Veronica had snagged one, just because the clothes up here weren't really practical. There were some flannels and jeans, but this was a vacation house where they employed the usual staff. They weren't actually ever coming up here to 'rough it'.

When she woke up today, she realized that the Pop Tate shirt was losing the scent of the back diner, which she thought was impossible. If she was searching for constants, she thought the tang of french-fry grease, hamburger meat, and onions would never wash away, and yet…

Veronica pushed her nose into the shirt, her comforter pulled over her body.

"There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home…" Veronica whispered into her pillow, hoping that in a world where the devil was up and walking, the spell from the Wizard of Oz would answer her prayers.

The disappointment that this did not work was far too great for her usually logic and realism-guided mind.

She closed her eyes, trying to pretend she was back in her bedroom. Maybe Betty was there, gushing about her newest date with Jughead. Maybe Archie was there, practicing his guitar, making those cute little sounds he made whenever he messed up. And hell, maybe even Jughead was there, waiting for Betty to finish something and making small-talk with Veronica, maybe interviewing her for a murder mystery taking place on the Upper East side.

She tried to imagine them all in her house, but the fantasy slipped through her fingers like sand in the breeze.

Things were already starting to slip.

She pulled the blanket off of her, inhaling and picturing her room again. This time, she threw herself back into an actual memory; her first night in the Pembrook, when her mother had showed Veronica her room so proudly, so happy to show her daughter that she knew her taste. And yes, it was a great room. But in this memory, Veronica changed it. She thanked her mother but sweetly asked if she could make some adjustments herself, make it hers.

She'd all but thought they were just passing through, so had been indifferent about how her room looked. But if she had known the love she'd feel for this place? And how she was about to possibly lose it?

Well, Veronica entertained herself until dinner deciding exactly what colors she'd paint the walls, how her bed would look, and the dream walk-in closet she'd construct. She also made a promise to herself; if they ever managed to get home, her room was having a makeover A.S.A.P.

When the day started to dim, Veronica wandered to the living room. All their electronics had died two days ago, and they were relying on batteries for clocks and flashlights at this point. There was the question that hung in Veronica's mind - what happens when those go out too- but no one was broaching that yet.

"Hey babe," Archie said, moving on the couch so they could sit next to each other.

It was torture.

When they were in public places, Archie was exactly the same as before, if not a more considerate boyfriend. But when they were alone, his expression was cold and far-away and nowhere near the person she thought she knew.

This fakeness, this pretending hurt the most. She hadn't thought he had it in him. But, he was doing a more than commendable job fooling her parents into thinking they were still infatuated with each other.

Veronica supposed when your life was on the line…you found strengths and skills you didn't know you had.

"Drugs," Malachai was saying. Everyone had been sure that he himself was on something, but he hadn't been going through withdrawal at all yet, making everyone readjust their opinion of him. He was just a weird, slightly unhinged person all on his own. He had acknowledged that he was here very generous allowed to be here, of course, and had caused no serious problems yet. There had been minor incidents, like Malachi trying to take a nude swim at 2 am in the lake, or the fact that until his phone died, he liked to blast his music at full volume. But that was all so basic of issues, compared to what they were dealing with.

"Really? Drugs. Something you're not telling us?" Josie snorted. She was playing chess with Joaquin.

"Don't have no info, if that's what you're asking, but people are making new strains of shit all the time. Stands to reason someone would go too far eventually."

"Or maybe anthrax!" Dilton said, way too excited to suggest that, "A chemical warfare of something."

"Or just the Next Plague. You know we've been joking the world's needed one for a while now," Archie shrugged, "Maybe God or whatever's up there listened."

"Magic." Joaquin said, shaking his head, "I know you all think I'm insane, but I've seen things in Greendale."

Though Veronica would never say it, she was mostly in agreement with Joaquin. She was quiet, which Archie had to know was unusual for her. Yes, she knew she always had an opinion about everything, and usually a cute celebrity story she was sure her friends would enjoy.

But now? Nothing. She had nothing and wanted to say nothing.

"What's your vote, Veronica?" Dilton prompted, pushing his glasses up his nose. She shook her head, but Josie playfully slapped her shoulder.

"Oh, come on, girl, everyone else has a theory. Even the bullshit ones are fair game here."

"I just think it's hard to say when we know hardly anything about them," Veronica said, reaching for a glass of water she'd gotten before joining the group. Her nails clinked against the side, "We think we know a lot of things. They look like humans. Maybe they were. Maybe it's something else entirely. Some look like people we know. Is that…a trap? An illusion? Coincidence?"

"But what about Pop Tate. He came back to life!" Archie pointed out.

"Was he ever dead, though? Or did we just…think he was?" Veronica sighed, "My point stands. We are practically in the dark about any of these things, other than that head-shots seem to do it." All communication was down, so even though her parents had hoped to connect with some people in the know up here, firstly, no other neighbors had made it up so far and secondly, there was no way to talk with anyone who might know something. "Heck, we don't even have a unified name for them!"

"Fucking devils," Joaquin muttered, which is what he'd been referring them to as.

"Methers," Malachai disagreed, "I am dead serious. You deal long enough to know there are some mixes you don't touch with a ten-foot pole."

"You have limits?" Josie gave a hard laugh, "Color me shocked."

"I'd prefer to stay alive, Missy," Malachi said, lounging all wrong in the chair, his legs dangling over the top of the backrest and his head nearly touching the floor, "And some of that stuff is called the Kamikaze. You'll have a great time for the rest of your life on it because it melts your brain." He made an elaborate goopy sound, causing Josie to scrunch up her nose in disgust.

"Well, hey, that theory could actually work. Their heads were basically just soup," Dilton said, "But the name is stupid."

"Let's just call them Cannibals. We also know they're trying to eat humans and they're human…ish." Archie suggested with a pause of uncertainty, "Because clever nicknames for them just seem weird and gross."

"They do seem to have a penchant for the flesh," Malachai agreed, "Wonder what we taste like to them? Chicken?"

"Speaking of food," Veronica stood, unable to stomach the conversation for a second more, "I'm going to see if it's almost done."

The first three days, they'd eaten like normal. But now they were starting to ration. Yeah, they had a lot of food here, more out of greed and hoarding compared to a prepper situation, but they weren't in dire worry of food running out, but they should watch themselves a bit, that's all. Or, that's how her mother had explained it to the group.

The one thing her mother, specifically, was not rationing was her wine. Veronica had asked for a glass two nights ago to be shut down. Hiram sometimes had a glass, Smithers usually joined her mother. As expected, her mother announced with a forced smile that dinner was nearly done, this time a glass of red on the counter next to her.

As they gathered for dinner, all sitting at the dining table like a weird, dysfunctional family of sorts, Veronica felt herself waiting for Archie. Who, of course, sat dutifully next to Veronica, taking her hand and kissing it softly.

"You two are too cute," Josie said with a soft, slightly sad smile, showing that it was not just her father that was believing this.

"Your meal," Smithers said as he set out the table, as he always did, before settling next to Hiram for his own. Hermione knew that he didn't feel like a worker who was being worked to death, but he enjoyed his job. Or, at least, that's what he'd promised Veronica when she'd asked him a few years ago, "A rustic bread with an Asian-inspired paste and a grape compote."

There was a pause, then Joaquin whispered uncertainty to Veronica, "This is just a PB&J, right?"

Veronica felt a bell of laughter. She hadn't laughed much, but this did make her giggle.

"Yes, it is."

Perhaps it was to give her parents a sense of normality, or perhaps it was to make a jest of their situation, but Smithers had been really amping up the formal way he'd been describing meals. Hermione had said that he could take $20 from Walmart and trick the richest of the rich in New York they were eating gourmet just by his descriptions alone.

The meal went by in relative silence because once again, there wasn't much to talk about. It was frighteningly close to the end of their meal when Josie looked around, confused.

"Where's Dilton?"

The table had felt a bit empty. It was embarrassing with so few people around her that it would take someone else bringing it up for Veronica to realize they were a person short. Of course, no one else had noticed either. Or maybe they had and didn't care.

The jury was still out on Malachai. It was hard to judge someone when you had no idea what their next move was. Malachai was the definition of lawless chaos, and until they started glimpsing the part that made Malachai more human underneath, most people were resisting judgments.

Archie was liked by Hermione and hated by Hiram, no shocker there.

Josie was instantly liked by both of her parents and Smithers, and Joaquin not soon after. She heard her father saying that despite his Southside Serpent associations, he was surprising him by being polite, always willing to help, clever, and a stand-up boy, clearly bothered by situations beyond his control. He also knew Spanish, something that clearly made him popular with Hiram.

But Dilton? Well, he was just…weird. And Veronica wasn't sure if it was a dislike or just a general dissociation, as in that he had a certain 'object permanence', meaning whenever he wasn't there, people just forgot about him.

"Washed his hands with me," Archie shrugged, "Dunno past that."

"More for me!" Malachai said, reaching for the last sandwich, which may have been Josie's clue that someone was not present.

Smithers slapped Malchai's hand swiftly, "You will not!"

"Is anyone…worried?" Veronica said standing, surprised there wasn't a general clamor to find him, "Not knowing where someone is right now isn't exactly comforting!"

This got everyone up on their feet, starting to whisper-call 'Dilton' through the cabin. Just as their calls were getting louder, and Joaquin realized that his jacket was missing from the hooks by the door, Dilton strode in, face splattered with blood and hands caked in black residue.

"Where have you been! You can't just leave the house!" Veronica said, coming down on him because it seemed no one else was. The fact they couldn't leave was an unspoken rule or at least one she didn't think needed to be spoken. It wasn't that Hiram wanted all these people here, but safety was an issue.

"Yes, what was so important you needed to skip dinner?" Hermione said, just as Dilton's stomach growled.

"Well, I was thinking," Dilton scratched his face, and streaks of the black goop left tiger marks on his skin, "We were talkin' about the things, Cannibals or whatever, and Veronica said we just didn't know anything about them. I concurred." He gave a little proud grin, "As an Adventure Scout, the best way to study nature and creatures is to observe them in real-time."

"You didn't," Joaquin's face grew pale as his eyes flickered nervously to the garage where Dilton had come from.

"Of course not," Dilton gave a scoff, offended, "That's the best way. The second best way is to study them dead. It seems figuring them out is…a matter of importance. No time to be wasted."

Everyone looked to Hiram, waiting to hear what his thoughts on this were. But it was Archie that spoke.

"So, there's a dead Cannibal in the garage? Are you sure it's dead?"

"Knife through the skull; Joaquin was right about headshots. Stabbed it and sent an arrow through the heart, but only a knife here," He made a motion between his eyes, "Stopped it moving."

Hiram seemed to waver on his thoughts for a moment, then something maybe like a grin seemed to creep over his face. Perhaps, just like that, Dilton had cemented a favored position from Hiram. This meant that Archie was about tied at the bottom with Malachi, though she wouldn't put it past her father to rank Archie lower than the unpredictable junkie.

"Initiative is good. I would prefer you ask me in the future, but I cannot condemn someone that is trying to do something about this situation, as compared to just sitting." His words and the glance he gave to Hermione seemed to indicate a fight behind closed doors, but Hermione just narrowed her eyes at her husband.

"Wash up," Hermione told Dilton, touching his shoulder gingerly.

"With all due respect, I think I'll be digging around in his chest cavity more tonight."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I wish that Dr. Curdle was here. A corner would be very valuable right about now." Josie sighed, "But both he and his dad gave me the jeepers."

"Same," Veronica murmured, glad to have only crossed his paths on a few slim occasions.

The corpse in the garage was wearing hiking gear. He would have looked like a normal person if there weren't gross blackish blood all over.

Hiram glanced over at Josie, who was making gagging noises behind her hand.

"Anyone that wishes to leave is free too, but we're…" He glanced at Dilton with a calculating look, "Going to find some answers."