Camo woke up with a start on the second day.

She was still surprised that she'd managed to fall asleep, even if that sleep was rough and nightmare-permeated. She'd woken up at some point in the middle of the night, just in time to move out of the way of an eye-bat that almost found her old hiding spot, by a cash register. Still, the Bill-suit was surprisingly comfortable.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and got up, or at least she tried to. She ended up banging her head on the top of the shelf she was laying on. Groaning, she set her head back down on the hard metal.

She'd taken refuge in the remains of the grocery store. It was in worse shape than a lot of buildings, but she'd found a shelf that was still standing, with the bonus of having a long flat space and another shelf leaning against it, hiding her from view. It was very uncomfortable, but it worked. She was alive and not turned to stone, which meant she considered it an absolute win.

Her bruised spine protested, and she amended that statement. Maybe not absolute. But it was still a win.

She wriggled out of the shelf and onto the floor, finding herself surrounded by uncooked macaroni. She sighed at the thought of being surrounded by inedible food, but, well, there was nothing to do about that. She slipped out from under the slanted shelf, grabbing her spear in the process of doing so, and left the store. It had been ransacked already, but she had managed to find a bag of chips shoved in a corner to be her breakfast.

She walked back out into the forest, feeling like some kind of loner. Which she kind of was. Anyway, she climbed up a tree with a nice little alcove of branches, put her spear over her lap, and dug in to "breakfast".

It was much more difficult than eating a bag of chips should be, since she paused and waited with bated breath with every crinkle of the bag. Still, it was food, so however difficult it may be, she would eat it.

She dropped it on the ground when she was done—who would care about littering when the world looked like this—and climbed her way back down. Well, fell down. It was a wonder she didn't impale herself with her own spear. After dusting herself off—

Wait. She didn't need to dust herself off. She looked down at the Bill-suit in confusion. The dirt just flaked off of it, leaving not a mark. Intrigued, she stuck a finger down in a puddle of mud and drew a smiley face on her suit jacket. The mud just dripped right off, leaving no trace it was ever on there.

Her eye lit up, and, just as another test, she grabbed her spear and tried to rip a hole in the jacket. It bent a little, but the knife didn't rip through, despite being as sharp as ever. She grinned widely. So, it wouldn't get dirty and it wouldn't rip . . . Bill had accidently given her a major asset.

Anyway. She had work to do. She'd been trying to find people huddling in buildings to send them to the Shack. So far, she'd hit Greasy's Diner, the graveyard, Yumberjacks, the movie theater, the barrel factory (which was completely on fire), and the grocery store. So far, she'd only helped a couple people, and it was starting to feel useless.

However, the TV station was pretty close. Maybe she could send out a message for help, though that would probably just get her in more trouble with Bill, and this time, he wouldn't just toss her out of the pyramid with a mere outfit change.

She sighed, sliding down the trunk of the tree. It all felt so hopeless. How was she supposed to help people? She couldn't do anything about this.

Then she set her brow in determination. Not with that mindset she couldn't. Well, even if she wasn't going to broadcast an SOS, maybe someone else was planning on it. And she could help them before they got turned to stone.

So, she set off at a brisk pace.

Well, until a Cthulu-looking monster grabbed her and tried to eat her.

She shrieked and wriggled. This is what she got for trying to take the roads! Getting eaten by something with way too many tentacles! With . . . ew, the suckers had been replaced with eyes. She was not gonna let that disgusting thing eat her.

With a battle cry, she stabbed her spear into the gnarled hand holding her. It shouted out, a warbling sound like it was coming from underwater, and dropped her. As she fell, she maneuvered herself so she stabbed it in the leg, deep enough that she left a long line dripping green slime instead of blood while losing speed. She finally dragged it out of the thing's leg and ran as fast as she could away from it.

It didn't chase her. Well, that made sense. It was massive, and one tiny human was hardly worth its time. She decided she was done sneaking around. She'd never get anywhere if she went at that maddeningly slow pace.

So, she kept up her run.

She twisted around a corner, and there it was. So much for hope. It was completely mangled, the tower bent and mangled, the building completely crushed. On top of it sat some head with an arm on the top of it. It looked at her, and its eyes brightened up. "Hey! You wanna get in my mouth?" it asked.

She shouted out and ran inside the nearest building, which happened to be the Summerween Superstore. The glass doors were broken, so instead of trying to pull it apart, she just dove through the glass. The Bill-suit protected her from cuts from it, a fact which she was very grateful for. She spoke from experience when she said those hurt.

She at first didn't spot anybody in there, but after a moment, she did. Mr. Hawthorne. Jason's dad. (Of course he'd be in the costume store, she thought unhelpfully. He's a tailor.) He looked like he was trying not to cry, and he was burned. His clothes were singed with holes showing the reddened skin.

"Mr. Hawthorne?" she asked cautiously, and he looked up. No, he wasn't trying not to cry—he had already cried. His cheeks were covered with stains from it, the ash and blood cleaned off from crying.

A hopeful smile split his face, and he leapt to his feet, though not with the same positivity she'd seen before. "Camo! Oh, you're safe." He rushed up and hugged her, and even though she didn't know him that well, she hugged him back. "Oh, you're safe. Thank goodness. I—I was afraid that . . . you were gone, like . . ."

She winced. "Yeah, I heard what happened to Jason." She bit her lip to stop herself from crying, too. "I . . . I'm going to figure something out. I hope there's some way to help everybody, but I'm just doing what I can."

He smiled at her sadly. "He always did say you were brave."

"I don't feel that way," she admitted. "I just feel like a scared little kid who doesn't know what she's doing. But, either way, there's something you should know. Stan, Stan Pines, is at the Mystery Shack. It's been protected from all the weirdness. If you need a safe place to go, go there."

He looked at her in concern. "And what about you?"

"I'll get there eventually," she told him, since that had become her go-to response to that question in the three or four scenarios she'd used it in. "But for the moment, I'm gonna help as many people as I can."

He hugged her again. "You're a good kid, Camo. But . . . I don't know if I can make it all across town. I'm not a young man."

"I'll go with you partway," she said determinedly. "But once we get to Main Street, you'll have to figure it out on your own. If you can, I'd suggest taking a car, if there's any in good enough shape, and taking that on the road to the Shack. It's significantly faster. Though, if you are doing that, you might want to be wary of monsters."

"I . . . okay. What are you wearing, though?"

She was alone again. Her trip with Mr. Hawthorne had gone mostly okay, save for them almost getting crushed by a giant ear. Honestly, she felt kind of like Harriet Tubman, rescuing people from danger and bringing them along a treacherous path to a safe place.

Now she was on Main Street, which had sustained worse damage than the rest of the town. The now-living lumberjack statue stomped on the street, blocking her way. This was way more monster encounters than she'd had the previous day. Bill must've been having fun last night, or she'd just been lucky yesterday. Either way, she couldn't continue on very far, so she squeezed past a crashed car and into the arcade.

Someone was in here, too, despite it lacking a roof, two walls, and most of the games being smashed. There wasn't a fort or anything, but a familiar, lumpy shape stood in the wreckage, in the one surviving corner. She couldn't see his face, and he was wearing a black cloak like the Grim Reaper or something, but she'd never forget that shape of baby fat.

Her mouth dropped open. "Soos?"

The lumberjack was right outside, so she rushed over and behind the shelter of a piece of molten slag that had once been a video game. Soos looked at her, delight clear on his face. Well, it was clear as soon as he threw down his hood. "Camo! Oh, dude, am I glad to see you! I've been wandering around, helping people . . . how about you?"

She grinned. "Basically the same stuff." She looked at his cloak, and then at her shiny golden suit. She really wasn't inconspicuous, was she? Well, it protected her, so on it stayed. "Oh, if you see anyone who needs help, Stan's at the Shack, taking care of things."

"Oh, Stan!" His grin turned even brighter. Scuff, he really loved his boss. "So he is okay!"

"Yeah. I stayed at the Shack the first day, but . . . well, the twins really cultivated some heroic instincts in me." She sighed happily, sitting in the dust. She held up a finger. "And, before you ask, I'm wearing this because Bill put it on me. I haven't taken it off because, apparently, I've actually lost sight in my right eye, also it protects me from a lot of harm."

He stared at her. Her cheeks warmed up a little. "Sorry. Everyone I've met has asked me why I'm still wearing it, so . . . yeah."

"No problem, dawg. Hey, you wanna team up on our heroic mission?"

She considered that. It would be nice to have company, but they could get more done separately. Also, she moved stealthier when she wasn't encumbered by anybody else. "Nah," she ended up saying. "I move faster on my own. Plus, we cover more ground if we're not together."

He nodded thoughtfully, holding his whiskered chin in his hand. "True, true. Well. I'm glad to see you're alive!"

"Same here." She looked out at the lumberjack. It had wandered away, though not very far. She figured it was too much of a risk as of yet. "Also . . . have you heard anything from the twins? Or . . . anybody else?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Sorry, Camo. But they're tough. I'm sure they're fine. You sure are."

"Yeah. You're right." The twins were fine!

They had to be.

At this point the lumberjack was gone. "It was nice talking with you, Soos. Maybe we should split up. I've been looking throughout the town area, but maybe it would be better if you were out in the plains. I can't deal with being out there, but hey. You're the handyman of the apocalypse, yeah?" She dug through her backpack, past her sweater (thank goodness it was still in there) and pulled out the two cans of meat and tossed them to him. "Here. I'll find something for myself later, but you might not have a stable food source out there."

"All right," he said, looking a little uncertain but determined anyway. "Good luck out there."

"Good luck to you too."

He fixed his cap and left, holding the cans of meat. She should probably do the same, but she just couldn't force herself to move right now. So, she sat there and waited, thinking and not thinking at the same time. But, of course, necessity urged her to start moving, so she reluctantly got to her feet and continued down the street.

She went towards the molten slag remnants of the Nathaniel Northwest statue, then hung a right to go to the police station. She didn't find anybody inside, but there was an untouched pair of handcuffs, which she thought might be useful. So, she picked them up and dropped them in her bag before leaving.

There was the church, right there. It was destroyed, like everything else, but this looked like a human, or humans, had done it. There was splintered, broken wood to the sides, where someone must've taken an ax to it, and all surviving parts were covered in Bill-themed graffiti. She guessed someone had done this, thinking Bill would be upset to worship other than to him.

Well. It was too late now, even if it wasn't a pretty sight, and there was no way she was burning down a church (even though that probably would've looked better, to be honest). Where to now?

She scanned the rest of Main Street. Something caught her eye. Not a building, like she'd expected to go to, but the dark form of a person, running across the street about halfway down. In fact, they looked to be running away, but not from a monster. From her.

She looked down at herself. It occurred to her that since she looked like some kind of Bill-cultist, people might treat her as such from a distance. Plus, the floating top hat looked like either she had had contact with Bill (which she had, but not for the same reason as people might think), or she was really dedicated to pleasing him.

Well, the suit jacket had to go. She pulled it off and looked at it. It was impervious to most weapons. She'd be an idiot to just throw it away. Instead, she wrapped it around her waist. Now she had the collared shirt, vest, and little bow tie on, with the jacket around her waist. It'd have to do.

She picked her bag and her spear up from the ground (of course she had put them on the ground, how was she supposed to take off a jacket while wearing a backpack and holding a spear?) and ran after the person, even though they were probably long gone by now. She dashed around the corner the person had gone around and paused, coming to an abrupt stop and peering down this street.

"Hello?" she asked, loud enough that her voice echoed but hopefully not loud enough that any monsters or true Bill-cultists heard her.

Suddenly, a loud shriek ripped through the relative quiet, which in Weirdmageddon was basically just ignoring the sounds of fire and monsters. She jumped to alertness, and she followed the road she was on. The next intersection revealed what had happened to the person.

The lumberjack had, apparently, not been completely gone, since it now had a person running around its feet as it tried to attack them. Camo, with the dumb ingrained heroic instinct, leapt to help, reaching into her pocket for her lighter.

But of course, it was gone. Different clothes. Also, she hadn't even brought it, she remembered, since everything was on fire anyway. She cursed and looked around. Her spear would do nothing to this thing, or, well, it wouldn't do any real damage, since the lumberjack was made of wood. Fire was her greatest asset here.

There! The burning barrel factory! She ran forward, kind of surprised it was still burning but not really. This was Weirdmageddon, where anything could happen and you just had to roll with it. She reached for a burning plank, but then thought better of it. Why should she burn her hand if she had an impervious suit jacket tied around her waist?

She pulled the jacket off, wrapped it around her hand, and then picked up the plank. It was still uncomfortably warm, but it didn't burn her, and that was the important part. Then, dropping her spear over there and hoping it wouldn't get stolen, she ran back over to the lumberjack, which was close to catching the tiring person.

She pressed the plank up against its leg, and it howled with rage, moving away from the other person and turning towards her, moving the plank away from its leg in the process. She had a fleeting thought of oh, I've scuffed up before she dropped the plank and ran for cover, going through the empty used-to-be-glass panel and hiding inside what used to be Mr. Hawthorne's shop. Still, peering out, she could finally make out who the person was.

It was Wendy.

She had on war paint and held a crossbow (a twinge of jealousy filled Camo), and she'd evidently recognized her, too, since she hadn't run away and was instead looking at her in shock. "Wendy!" Camo shouted, hoping the lumberjack wouldn't understand human speech. "Light a bolt on fire!" She pointed to the remnants of the barrel factory, and the older teen nodded briskly before running off that direction.

Camo ducked back down, hiding from another swing of the lumberjack's ax. She waited there, watching the thing as well as she could while she hid. Its eyes glowed brightly, its smile looking evil as it, once again, tried to attack her.

And it stopped.

A crossbow bolt, on fire, slammed into the back of its head, and it howled again. It actually caught on fire this time, and it lumbered away, probably thinking the two of them were too hard a target.

She sighed in relief and hopped up, leaving the used-to-be shop and walking towards Wendy, near the barrel factory. Her spear was still there, thankfully, and she grabbed it and held it close. She turned to her friend/rescuer/workmate. "Wendy!" she said again, a smile splitting her face.

"Camo?" She sounded a little dubious, though she couldn't blame her. She nodded, and then Wendy's face matched her own. "Oh my gosh, Camo! I didn't recognize you, with the . . . uh, strange outfit."

She raised an eyebrow. "At this point you should know that I always wear strange outfits."

Both of them grinned. "You know what I mean," Wendy said offhandedly. "Anyway, I can't believe you're still alive! This has been crazy. This isn't a safe place, though, let's go to my hideout."

"A hideout?" she inquired.

"Yeah, you know, a place where you stay . . ."

She sighed. "I know what a hideout is, Wendy, I just didn't expect it, I guess."

Wendy stared at her. "You don't have one?" She shook her head. "Then how are you still alive, man?"

"Dumb luck and an uncomfortable night in a shelf."

The older teen laughed, but she quieted down when a much more malicious cackle was heard in the distance. "I wanna hear all about it, but we gotta move first."

Wendy's hideout turned out to be in the mall.

"That's pretty far for a supply run," Camo commented as they walked over the broken glass on the ground. They'd taken a back way in, but the mall was still in pretty shabby shape. Not the worst she'd seen, of course, but pretty bad nonetheless.

Wendy shrugged. "I got a little sidetracked by these weird laughing floating fish things. Ended up near the remains of the hardware store and figured I should pick some stuff up if I was over there anyway."

They went to the remains of some store, which had the metal part down and the words dude keep out spray-painted on in neon green. Wendy lifted it up, glancing suspiciously over her shoulder (Camo couldn't exactly blame her for that) and Camo went inside. The inside was decked out with spray paint and various shirts and random stuff. There was a trash can with a bunch of burned paper in the center.

"Huh," she said, impressed as she looked around. "This is pretty good. You got anywhere for me to stick my spear?"

"Uh, sure," Wendy replied, gesturing to the wall, where she stuck it in a random umbrella stand. That worked. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you made a spear for the apocalypse, huh? Where'd you get the stuff?"

Camo grinned. "The Shack. Stan's fine, I spent the first day with him. That unicorn hair you, Mabel, Candy, and Grenda got a while back? Kept it safe. It's turning into a thriving little civilization at this point."

"That's cool." The two girls sat there in silence for a little bit, before Wendy pulled out a lighter and started the trash can fire.

She perked up. "Hey, do you have a spare one of those? I left my lighter for some reason, and it'll be pretty useful for the apocalypse." The older teen tossed it to her, and she snatched it out of the air on her second try. "Thanks."

"So, you've been, what? Moving around, saving people, always in motion? You're like some kind of superhero, dude." Camo felt her cheeks redden the slightest bit. She thought maybe the fire would disguise it, but no. "I'm serious. That's super cool. But, uh . . . you wanna lay low for a bit? You look like you could use it."

"I'm cleaner than you are," she deadpanned.

Wendy gave her a look. "Yeah, but you've got a magic suit. That wasn't what I was talking about. You look like you're dead on your feet, and you might as well be if you keep it up. Some eye-bat's gonna get the best of you, and that'll be it for Camo. Stay here for a bit. A day or two. Then you can go continue your hero work. Deal?"

She thought for a moment, then she stuck out her hand. "Deal."

Yeah! Part two of Weirdmageddon!

And we have a cover art! It's been out for a couple days, but it took me longer than expected to finish this chapter, so . . . you might only be hearing it now. I'm really happy with how it came out. The picture is done by me, too, so I don't have to credit anyone else! Ha ha!

Seriously though, we only have 3-4 chapters left. Camo's story is coming to a close. (Though it won't be the end of my Gravity Falls content . . . *evil cackle*) Thanks for all your support, everyone!