Animatus

Notes: Thanks ever so much for all of the reviews. Keep them coming!

Previously:

The moaning of the zombies continued as the night wore on, growing darker and darker. Clouds overtook the moon and blotted out the stars. A chill wind picked up, blowing through Faith's hair, and relieving the heat that had been burdening her. She found herself growing anxious again, with only the sound of the zombies to accompany her. Leaning forward in her chair, she stared out into the pitch black of the night, wondering if she would ever find peace again, wondering if she had ever known peace, or if death would be her only solace.

Chapter Three: Leaving the Roof:

The sky steadily began to lighten, turning from black to dark blue. Dark blue changed to light blue and transformed into a pink that spreads across the line of the horizon. Faith watched as the great change happened, as the moment occurred when suddenly the world was safe again for all things good and right. She waited for dawn. As Liz had explained the night before, the zombies began to dissipate about an hour before sunrise. Faith had been dozing in her chair, her Slayer senses alert, but her mind finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had spread over her limbs. Though she had been asleep for eight months, and she wanted nothing more than to savor every conscious moment she experienced, her body was fatigued from the stress that she had placed upon it so soon after waking from her long sleep, and her mind was sapped of all of its strength from the heavy thoughts that had been running circles through it during the night.

Though she had been half-asleep, she had noticed immediately when the groaning and moaning of the zombies had begun to lessen. Silences crept in between their wailings, pauses, like members of the chorus suddenly were being snatched away during the performance. Faith had roused herself and crept closer to the edge of the roof, ever mindful that a misstep could very well mean the end of her life, or the start of a horrifying new one. Gripping the shotgun tightly in her pale hands, she knelt by the ledge separating ground from air, and peered over it. The zombies had been parading up and down Main Street during the night, perhaps searching for food, or perhaps just wandering as their bodies willed. Faith wondered if some spark of human consciousness remained inside of them, directing their footsteps to certain places instead of others. But, maybe the zombies were like vampires in that respect, though they still looked human, they were nothing of the kind.

As the first light of the sun began to creep towards the sky from beneath the edge of the world, the zombies began to scatter. It happened slowly at first, and then with more speed, until those left when the sun cautiously showed its face began to panic and ran up the street wailing painfully. Faith lost sight of them as they rounded a corner and she resisted the impulse to follow them. If she had been alone, she would have leapt from the roof and silently trailed the zombies to learn where it was that they took their shelter. She was not alone; however, and she did not want her new companions to awake and find her missing. Silence once again fell over the town of Sunnydale as the sky turned red like fire and the sun swiftly jumped its last hurdle, riding proudly into the morning sky.

Faith glanced back at her sleeping comrades and sighed. A Slayer was not meant to be burdened with concern for others, more importantly, others about whom she was growing to care deeply. A Slayer was meant to perform her duties without question and without concern for her own well being, in order to ensure the survival of the human race in the face of great danger and darkness. Her deceased Watcher, Kate, had taught her about the importance of being named a Slayer and what that mantle meant in a practical sense. She had not taken any friends, any permanent lovers, or any family. Instead, she had cast all of that aside and taken one name – a name that connected her to nothing. For the proper name of the Slayer was not important, only the name of Slayer mattered. As Faith gazed out over the ruined town of Sunnydale, with smoke rising the distance, and utter desolation marring its features, she realized just how important the Slayer was to everything.

Without the Slayer, Sunnydale would have been no different from any other town in the world, destroyed by the darkness that rose every night when the sun fell. When she had been called, she had felt special, like she truly mattered for once in her life. Even when Kate had informed her that another Slayer lived, despite the creed of the Watcher's Council, Faith had not felt embittered or discouraged. She had been curious about the other Slayer, about her life. That there was another solitary girl stalking the night and fighting monsters about which most people only dreamed was a great comfort to Faith as she carried out her mission alone. However, after Kate had been killed, and she had fled to Sunnydale, she realized that, perhaps, Slayers were not meant to meet. Though Faith held the key to the rest of the Slayer line in her blood, Buffy had lorded her experience over her, reducing her the level of a trainee.

The feeling of destiny and importance that came with being a Slayer had only belonged to Buffy and the blonde girl made sure that Faith recognized that. Faith moved back to her lawn chair and sat, a stoic expression melting onto her face. She had been jealous of Buffy, of her life and her importance. However, now as Faith sat and stared grimly at her bleak surroundings, she realized that being a Slayer was more important than all of her petty jealousies. She had a mission now and she was not going to allow anyone to stand in her way. Her body felt weak, but her spirit was strong. The sun rose higher in the sky, shining brightly in her eyes. She smiled and leaned her head back, allowing the light to warm her face.

"I see we're all still alive," Liz said, rubbing her eyes as she sat up in her sleeping back and stretched.

"For the time being," Faith answered, glancing back at her.

"You want to catch some sleep?" Liz asked, motioning to the sleeping bag as she stood and walked over to where Faith was sitting.

"I'm good," Faith replied as Liz sat next to her.

"Really?" Liz asked in surprise. "What're you….superwoman or something?" She said sarcastically.

Faith smirked. "Yeah, I am," she answered seriously. Liz eyed her suspiciously. "I'm something called a Slayer," Faith explained, seeing the younger girl's expression. "It's my job to fight things like them."

"Is that how you got into the coma?" Liz asked. "Fighting things like them?"

Faith smiled sadly. "Not exactly," she answered softly. "The point is, you're safe with me. I don't need to sleep like other people do. I caught a few hours earlier, when the zombies started thinning out."

"And now you're good to go?" Liz asked.

"All day and all night," Faith laughed.

"Just wait until you get to be my age," Joyce said, joining the conversation from where she lay in her sleeping bag. "Slayer or no, you'll need a few naps in between."

"So what's the plan for today?" Faith asked lightly, ignoring the implications of Joyce's comment.

"Well, after our morning jog," Joyce said sarcastically, rising and joining the younger girls in the ring of chairs, "we usually just sit on the roof until sunset, when we sit on the roof some more, but a little less comfortably and a little more fearfully."

"Have you ever left the roof?" Faith asked.

"No," Liz replied.

"Not even to find food? Not for anything?" Faith asked incredulously.

"It's safe up here," Liz said, shrugging. "We had food."

"But you said that you were running out," Faith acknowledged.

"I suppose we didn't want to risk leaving and running into them," Joyce explained. "We're not like you, Faith," she said. "We can't fight them," she added, then paused, looking over at Liz. "Do you know about her yet?" She asked.

"She explained about the Slayer thing," Liz nodded. "I wasn't sure whether to believe her at first, but hell, zombies have taken over the town. I'm a little more flexible now in my belief system."

"But you can fight them," Faith stated. "You have guns. You have weapons."

"What're you suggesting, Faith?" Joyce asked, knowing that there was more to the dark haired Slayer's statements than appeared on the surface.

Faith sat silently for a long time before she looked over at the two women. She could see the fear in their eyes. They did not want to leave the roof. It represented safety to them. But Faith knew that they could not linger on it forever. They would run out of food and they would have to leave the roof to find more. Fear was something that could be overcome. "I'm suggesting that we leave," she said slowly.

"Leave?" Liz asked.

"Leave the roof," Faith elaborated. Silence met her statement. Sighing, she continued. "I know that you're afraid to leave. I understand that, I do. If I wasn't…who I am…I would be afraid too. But you can't stay up here forever. You just can't. And I can't stay up here for much longer. I know it seems pointless to you, but I have to try to fight them, or stop them somehow. I can't just sit here and do nothing while they hunt down everyone left alive and eat them."

"But you don't want to leave us, either," Joyce stated, suddenly realizing the Slayer's dilemma. "You should, but you don't want to."

"I want you both to come with me," Faith said. "I can take care of you. And we have all of the weapons that we need. It may seem like there's an endless number of them wandering around this place, but there's not. They've already killed everyone that they can," Faith explained. "Besides," she added, "I want to find Buffy and the others."

Joyce perked up at the mention of her daughter's name. "Do you think that you can?" She asked.

"I know that I can," Faith said firmly. "I don't know that she'll want to see me, but I think if we work together, we can stop all of this."

"What if it wasn't just Sunnydale?" Liz asked. "What if it happened everywhere? What's the point? Anywhere we go, there'll just be more of them," she said despondently.

"Don't you want to find out?" Faith asked. "Don't you want to know?"

Liz sighed heavily and studied Faith's face for several long moments. "If you think that you can take us somewhere safe, I'll go."

"I can," Faith promised, but she was lying through her teeth. She knew that she could protect the two women to a certain extent, but she could not predict the actions of the zombies, nor could she protect them for very long from a great number of the walking dead. She looked over at Joyce, who was eyeing her curiously.

"So what's the plan then?" Liz asked.

"I think that there are other people alive in town," Faith explained. "I want to try to find them. I think that the best place to start is the college."

"That's where your daughter was?" Liz asked, looking over at Joyce.

The older woman nodded. "That's the last place I know for certain that she was."

"We start there. If we find anyone, we'll take them to the Bronze. You said that you heard on the radio that people were gathering there to hide?" Faith asked.

"We did," Liz nodded.

"We'll go there before sunset regardless of what we find at the school. It'll be our base of operations. It's a perfect place really," Faith commented. "It has plenty of space, few entrances, drinks, and food."

"When do you want to leave?" Joyce asked.

"As soon as possible," Faith replied. She looked up into the sky. The sun was riding higher across the expanse of blue. Every moment that they wasted brought them closer to sunset and the coming of the zombies.

"We should split up the weapons downstairs," Liz planned. "We'll all be armed in case anything happens."

Faith stood, holding the shotgun determinedly. "I'll go check it out, make sure it's safe for us down there."

"We'll be listening for you," Joyce said. Faith nodded and moved over to the hatch leading to the vertical ladder. Swinging it open, she cradled the shotgun underneath her arm and peered into the darkness below. Though her Slayer senses had been humming perpetually in the back of her mind since she awoke from her coma, she did not feel any immediate danger lurking in the shadows. Stepping onto the ladder, she climbed down. The second floor of the store was dark, save for a small stream of sunlight shining in through a curtained window. When her feet hit the floor, she shifted the shotgun back into her arms and turned.

She allowed her eyes several moments to adjust to the darkness. When she could see nearly as well in the dark as she could in the light, she moved forward. She could not hear anything rustling about in the store, but she did not trust the silence, which clung oppressively to everything. She reached the stairs that led to the first floor without incident and slowly descended them. Before she had reached the bottom, however, she noticed something disturbing. The filing cabinet that had been blocking the front door had been pushed roughly to the side and the door was hanging slightly ajar. Faith breathed deeply, trying to control the raging fear that was welling up in her heart. "You're a Slayer," she muttered to herself. "You can do this."

Moving forward, she raised the shotgun, preparing to fire at anything that might move. Glancing around, she did not immediately notice anything out of place. She reached the front door and glanced out, into the sunlight that was warming the streets. Then she closed it. The door shut with a click. The noise itself was almost enough to cover the sound of swiftly approaching bare feet, but Faith's hyper senses caught the soft slapping sound just in time. Wheeling around, she raised the shotgun, but hesitated. A girl was standing in front of her. She looked to be about six years old, with curly blonde hair that fell in ringlets around her face, and bright blue eyes that shimmered in the darkness. Faith could not see any noticeable wound on her to indicate that she had been attacked.

"Hello?" She asked haltingly, hoping for a response from the young girl, but she simply stared at the Slayer with her blinking, wide eyes. "Are you okay?" Faith furthered, stepping forward. Her movement propelled the girl into action. With a loud hiss, she shot forward, her mouth wide, and her blood stained teeth gnashing, hoping to latch onto Faith's flesh. Faith stumbled backwards, caught by surprise, and fell to the ground. The shotgun flew out of her hands and the girl jumped on top of her. Faith pushed back against the girl's chest as she clawed at her and struggled to find a place to bite. Her sharp fingernails swept within centimeters of Faith's face. Pushing backwards with all of her strength, Faith launched the girl into the air. She crashed into a display case, the glass breaking in a cascading waterfall around her.

Faith scrambled to her feet as the little girl did the same. Reaching for her shotgun, Faith wheeled it around, aimed for a split second, and fired. The bullet struck the girl in the forehead and her head exploded like a watermelon. Faith looked away, as pieces of the little girl slapped onto the ground around her, and gagged. She felt the sting of bile rising up in her throat, but she swallowed it down. Closing her eyes momentarily, she waited until her heart had stopped wildly racing before she opened her eyes again. Taking a deep breath, she tucked the shotgun under her arm and completed her search of the first floor. The little girl had been the only zombie to enter the store.

Faith trudged back up the stairs and walked over to the ladder. Peering up, she saw the sun shining down at her, but it looked far away. "You can come down now," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Her hands were trembling as they lay on the gun tucked underneath her arm. She knew that if she did not keep moving, she would lose her nerve, and they would all spend another night on the roof. Liz and Joyce climbed quickly down the ladder.

"Are you alright?" Liz asked as her feet touched the ground. "We heard a shot."

"I'm five by five," Faith muttered. "There was one downstairs." Joyce visibly blanched upon hearing Faith's words. "It's okay. It's dead now."

"Really dead?" Liz asked.

Faith smiled. "Really dead," she confirmed.

"Okay," Liz exhaled deeply. "Let's go get some weapons." The group filed down the stairs. They filled backpacks with guns and ammunition. Faith gave her shotgun to Joyce, while Liz took the other one that her father had kept in stock. Faith found ammunition to match the gun that she had been keeping in her backpack, which she traded for a larger bag. She was not accustomed to using guns, however, and took a crossbow, loading the remaining space in her bag with arrows. When the trio was outfitted, they all looked at each other. After a tense moment of silence, they started laughing. They looked ridiculous, decked out with arsenals like they were marching into war. Faith knew that they were, but the other two women still hoped to find safety without having to use their weapons. Joyce carried the food in her pack, while Liz carried the flashlight and some blankets in hers. Faith held ammunition, the gun that the nurse had given her, arrows, and knives. However, she hoped that the knives were unnecessary, as she did not want to have to approach a zombie close enough to use one.

"Are we ready?" Faith asked, looking at the other two women. They nodded. Faith smiled. The other women were not Slayers, but they had the courage to be. Faith led the group, walking over to the front door. No one had mentioned the body of the little girl that had been laying in the room with them the entire time that they were packing and, for that, Faith was grateful. Pulling open the door, she peered outside for a moment. Then she stepped out, her feet directing her towards U.C. Sunnydale and the one person in all of the world that she hoped was still alive.