A full week had passed since Manuel and Hope had started dating, and news of it had spread around the community like wildfire. For some reason unbeknownst to Manuel, people getting into relationships were a huge deal around the school. People kept congratulating them when they ran into them. He didn't mind, though. All he cared about was that Hope was happy.

What Manuel liked about their relationship was that it barely even changed the dynamic the pair already had before. Nothing was made weird by their dating, as some of his teen novels had suggested would happen. They still wanted to do most of their chores together, though his father had suspiciously arranged for their daily tasks to be far apart from each other at almost every turn.

Today, however, it would be different. He and Hope had talked about it the night before, and they'd agreed that Hope would convince him to let them go out on a supply mission together. Currently, he was sitting on one of the benches with AJ, looking over the man's shoulder at his father, who was deep in conversation with Ruby.

On the other side of the courtyard, Hope's shift on the watchtower was about to end. To her right sat Jack, a fourteen-year-old boy whose mother has left him at the gates of the school at the age of seven, leaving a note in his pocket. It had simply read: Please take care of my boy, I can't do it anymore.

He was a lanky kid with bright red hair and green eyes. He rarely spoke, unless it was to point out some random nature fact his father would tell him as a kid or talk to Aasim about supply runs. Hope could barely remember the last time she'd actually heard his voice if she was being honest.

"You okay, Jack?" she said suddenly, turning to her. They were leaning against the wall they'd built on the watchtower.

"Huh?" he stammered, his voice scratchy, as though he hadn't used it in a while. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Hey, I know we don't talk much," Hope said, rubbing her arm. "But I want you to know, I'm there if you ever wanna talk, okay?"

Jack shrugged, but he nodded nonetheless. With him, it was as good as Hope could ever expect, so she laid the topic to rest. It was then that her watch alarm beeped twice and she clapped her hands together.

"Shift's over," she said. With a nod, Jack followed her down the ladder and into the courtyard, where she called over Tara and Willy over. "Hey losers, tower's all yours," she exclaimed with a smile.

"Shut up," Willy said, punching her arm playfully as he and Tara made their way up.

Before she could even greet him, Jack had already disappeared out of sight. Pursing her lips, Hope paid no more mind to him and turned her attention to Aasim, who was still speaking to Ruby. She made her way over to them, looking to her left to Manuel, who was sitting with AJ. She winked at him before standing behind Aasim and tapping him on the shoulder.

Today, the man was sporting a half-beard he'd been trying to grow for the longest time. No matter how hard he tried, her father always teased Aasim that it looked just like a dead opossum had taken residence on his face. He turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, Hope," he said.

"Hey, sug'," Ruby said warmly, smiling at the girl.

"Hi, guys," Hope replied. "I was wondering if I could speak to you privately, Aasim."

"Uh, sure," said Aasim, turning to his wife. "You mind giving us a sec, honey?"

Ruby nodded and stood on tiptoes to plant a small kiss on his cheek. Reflexively, Hope made a gagging sound, which made both adults chuckle.

"I figured you wouldn't mind seeing that," Aasim teased, crossing his arms as Ruby left and went into the admin building, "seeing as you're with my son."

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," Hope said, switching her weight from one leg to the other like she usually did when she was getting impatient.

"Oh?"

"I feel like you have been trying to keep Manuel and me apart for the past week," she explained. "Like you don't want us to hang out alone or something."

Aasim shifted his feet uncomfortably. "I mean," he said, "I figured you guys didn't need more distractions than you already have."

"You think we'd distract each other even more now that we're together than before?" Hope asked, incredulous. "Aasim, we're a good team, we're not gonna mess around."

Aasim looked apprehensive for a moment, silent. He looked down at the girl, whose fiery brown eyes shone with the same intensity of her mother's. His own eyes drifted upwards, over her shoulders and towards the table where his son sat with AJ, deep in conversation.

Sighing, Aasim nodded his head dejectedly. "As a rule, I try not to send couples together on runs," he began.

"But you let mom and dad go together," she interrupted. He cleared his throat.

"Nonetheless," he continued, shaking his head. "I guess I can make another exception for you guys. But please, tell me I can trust you with this, Hope."

"You got it, Aasim," she said, beaming, balancing on the balls of her feet.

"Okay," he said, rummaging in his pocket. "Here's the directions to a town your dad found while on a patrol of the border yesterday. It's on the edge of the safe zone, so I'm gonna need you to be very careful."

He handed her the piece of paper and she examined it for a moment. "That's like ten miles south."

"Yeah, which is why you're gonna need to take two horses," Aasim said, seeing her face light up again. "You'll get to ride Bailey again, I guess. Just promise you guys won't do anything stupid."

"Aasim, you and I both know we can't promise that," she teased, grinning. Aasim, however, didn't smile. His tone suddenly dropped a few decibels.

"Hope, I'm serious," he warned. "All we need is some non-perishables, preferably in cans."

"Non-perishables in cans, no stupid risks. Got it," she repeated, nodding.

"Good," Aasim said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Now go get my son and get going before I change my mind."

Nodding, Hope turned her back on Aasim and made her way through the courtyard toward Manuel. She got to the table, and before AJ could so much as say hello to her, she had already grabbed her boyfriend by the sleeve and was pulling him to the stables on the other side of the courtyard.

"Wait, what's happening?" he mumbled, though he wasn't showing much resistance. "What did my dad say?"

"We're going to a town my dad found," she explained, rummaging through a makeshift chest on the side of the stable and pulling out two woolen comforters, which they used as saddles. She threw one to Manuel, who caught it. "It's a long ride, so let's move it."

Following her command, he threw the comforter over Dawn, one of the female horses, and surrounded her belly with a strap to keep the comforter from going astray. She neighed but stood her ground as she let him mount her with some difficulty. To his right, Hope mounted Bailey with ease, jumping up with one leg and throwing it over his back.

"How do you make it look so easy?" Manuel asked, adjusting his makeshift seat from under him.

"Practice makes perfect, Manuel," Hope said, clicking her tongue. Almost instantly, Bailey neighed and walked backward as Hope tugged at her mane gently. She made him stand beside the gate as she untied the knot.

"Showoff," he said, rolling his eyes. "Let's go, lead the way."

With a hard kick to Bailey's belly, Hope charged forward out of the gate, Manuel hot at her heels. They raced into the forest, into their first adventure as a couple. Manuel had never felt freer. The cold morning air almost pierced through his skin, prickling his face in a way that made him shiver. Ahead of him, he saw Hope from behind, atop her trusty steed, the part of her hair that wasn't covered dreadlocks flying through the air behind her.

Today, she was wearing a thick brown leather jacket that fit her a little too tightly, which restricted her arm movements. Though she had complained about it, Clem had been adamant that she wear something against the bitter cold of late autumn. Beggars couldn't be choosers, she'd told her annoyed daughter.

As they trotted through a particularly treacherous part of the trail for the horses, Manuel's mind started to wander, as it often did these days, to Hope. The memory of that beautiful night barely a week ago flooded his mind. It had all seemed so perfect; too perfect. The way Hope had held his hand afterward, and the way her eyes had lit up when he said the words he'd rehearsed so much yet been almost unable to say.

"Manuel, Manuel!" Hope's voice broke through his thoughts and he blinked. He had barely noticed they'd gotten out of the forest by now, and were walking down a narrow road. A broken-down car stood on the side of the road, burnt to a crisp long ago.

He turned to the girl and blinked twice. "Yeah, I'm here," he said as if he'd just arrived.

"You're weird sometimes, you know that?" she commented, looking him up and down as they passed the car. "Ever think about all these cars lying around?" she asked, not necessarily at Manuel.

"What about them?" Manuel replied, studying the burned metal carcass.

With the windows shattered, Manuel could see into the car, where two corpses sat side by side at the back seats, the safety belts strapping them tightly to them. Their flash had long ago rotted or burned, and what remained of their bones was charred beyond recognition. It truly was a horrific sight.

"It's just interesting to think that people used to use these to move around," Hope said, shrugging. "Dad told me some people were rich enough to pay someone to drive for them."

"Why would they do that?" Manuel said. They had passed the car already and were approaching a ran-down gas station. "You wanna check the place out?" he added as an afterthought.

"Nah, we can hit it on the way back," she said, dismissing him with a lazy wave of her hand. "I think he said people were just lazy, so they just didn't care to drive themselves around."

"That's stupid," Manuel mused to himself. "I'd kill to drive one of those around the block."

"Yeah," Hope said wistfully.

They went silent for a while, looking around. The leaves on the trees and on the ground were a bright shade of orange. The early afternoon sun shone over them, casting a golden hue over the road. The only sound around them was the clop of the horses' hooves on the concrete. He saw Hope rummage in the bag strapped to her makeshift saddle and produce a piece of paper.

She examined it closely, turning it in her hand and looking up at the sun. Having made up her mind, she nodded and pocketed the paper again.

"We should be getting close," she told him.

"I thought it was only 15 miles," Manuel said. "We've been walking for at least 3 hours."

Hope shrugged. "My dad was never the best at directions."

"So how do you know we're close, then?"

"Because I know everything," she said matter-of-factly.

"C'mon," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm kidding. Look there," she said. Her finger was pointed at a large green sign off the side of the road, hanging lopsided from a post. On it, the white letters read 'Charleston – 5 miles'. She looked at Manuel with a smug smile and he scoffed.

They walked down the road for at least another half hour, by which time a large row of houses lining the beginning of a larger avenue had surrounded them. They were entering the outskirts of the town. The houses looked suburban, or at least that's what Manuel could tell from having looked at old pictures of suburban neighborhoods in the library books. They all sported brick shingles, and most if not all the windows were shattered and barricaded.

Some of the houses boasted messages on the walls that read things like 'Go away! Survivors inside!' or 'Trespassers will be shot on sight.' For their sake, he hoped all of them were currently uninhabited. Hope still led the way through the road, looking around in search for… something. He never could tell what her inquisitive eyes searched for in a new place, though he trusted her completely.

"These are probably long raided," she commented offhandedly, gesturing to the dilapidated houses to either side of them. "That one even has the front door wide open."

"Guess whoever was there left in a hurry."

"Or they were forced out…"

Trying not to think of the prospect of raiders in their vicinity, Manuel contented himself with pointing out to Hope all the different types of trees that grew on the front lawns. He could tell she didn't care, but he kept it up nonetheless, as it was a far better alternative to their other possible thoughts.

Hope stayed silent for a while, listening to Manuel drone about trees for the better part of half an hour, while she surveyed their surroundings. Her gaze briefly wandered over to Manuel, whose eyes were alight as he explained the subtle differences between two types of squirrels she had already forgotten the name of.

Although she would never admit it out loud, his nerdy passion for everything around him was one of the reasons she liked him so much. In their sixteen years as friends, many a night had been spent gazing up at the stars in awe, listening to her best friend point out the brightest constellations as if he hadn't pointed them out to her a thousand times before. She never minded, though. She just shut up and let him do his bit, because that was what seemed to bring him the most joy during those cold winter nights or scorching summer evenings.

As they entered a more urban part of the town, she pondered over her relationship with the boy to her right. She looked into his chocolaty eyes; the eyes in which she had always found comfort in her darkest times. She couldn't really describe her feelings toward him, other than using words she'd read in some magazine or book Manuel had so adamantly read to her in their youth.

It was a scary thought, she realized when her mind started wandering to a deeper place she had never dared venture. Unable to face that darkness at the moment, she blinked twice and brought herself back to reality. Around them, larger buildings had risen as if from nowhere, small stores lining most of the block.

"We should stop here," she said abruptly. "This area seems relatively better for the picking."

"Let's hope," Manuel said in an undertone.

"I always hope," said Hope, a smug grin on her face. "That's my name, remember?"

Manuel could do nothing more than sigh and get off his horse, patting the animal on the neck. Hope did the same, albeit with much more grace. Together, they tied the horses to a nearby pole and looked around. They were in what must have once been a busy intersection, as it was now littered with cars and motorcycles, most of their tires rotted off long ago.

"You check out that convenience store over there," she said, her voice commanding yet gentle. "See if they have any canned goods or anything that could be of help."

"Where will you go?" Manuel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll check out that Laundromat," she said, jabbing a finger behind her, where a large neon sign had once read 'Laundromat – Open 24 hours.'

"You really think you'll find something useful in a Laundromat?"

"You'd be surprised the shit people leave behind in the weirdest places." Hope reminded him, nodding. "We'll meet back here in twenty minutes. Holler if you need anything."

"You too," Manuel said, already turning to his task. For a second, he stopped and looked back. "Be careful, okay?"

Hope pursed her lips but nodded nonetheless, remembering the promise she'd made to Aasim. As her boyfriend bounded off to the convenience store, she turned to the Laundromat and sighed. Here goes nothing, she thought to herself.

The front of the store itself was made almost entirely of exposed brick. Though it had once been white, years of disrepair had rendered it a sad, almost lifeless gray. One of the windows, surprisingly, had remained almost intact, though she spotted a large hole on the far left.

She remembered the stories her mother had told her about the start of the apocalypse; the looting, the panic, the fear. It was strange for her to think of a world without walkers, where a kid could go for a walk in the forest without having to carry a weapon larger than themselves. Without giving into that line of thought, she pushed the door open and walked into the dim store.

Even though some afternoon light shone through the un-barricaded window, her eyes were still not accustomed to the dark. She squinted; trying to make out shapes and forms in the darkness. There were what appeared to be some shelves on one of the walls. In the middle of the large room were broken-down washing machines, thick layers of dust covering their surface.

She took a few tentative steps, her eyes getting more used to the dark, though her hands were still preemptively held out. The room around her was deathly still. Silent. The only sound that penetrated the peace seemed to come from somewhere in the back. Something, somewhere, was leaking water onto the hard floor; dripping softly downwards, so eerily regular it made Hope's arm hair stand out in alert.

She paid her body no mind and continued forward, careful not to bump her feet into any loose items on the floor.

"There's gotta be an office," she whispered to herself, her voice rippling through the silence like a bomb, possibly alerting whatever was lurking in the shadows. She drew her knife from her pocket and held it in front of her, her left hand poised for the attack should one come. Fortunately, it never did. Sighing softly, she pocketed it and kept going until she reached the back of the store and saw a large wooden door with a cracked window above her head level.

Below the window was a small sign that had once read 'Authorized personnel only' in bold red, but had since been painted over haphazardly. Below that, someone had written the words 'KEEP OUT' in what looked suspiciously like blood. She looked down at the handle and almost gasped. She realized then that what had been making the dripping sound was not water after all.

It was blood, dripping from the handle. It was fresh, almost shining in the soft sheen of the light streaming from the broken window. She backed away slowly, her lip trembling in terror. Her eyes looked around frantically, every tiny movement in the shadows a creeping monster ready to pounce.

As she backed away, her heel hit something hard. It was metal, and to her horror, it rolled away from her with a resounding clang that reverberated on the walls of the store. After that, everything happened in a flash of movement.

The silver surface of a blade broke through the shadows toward her. A hand and an arm were attached to the knife, a man coming out of the darkness into full view. He was a tall man, with a balding head and broken yellow teeth. His crooked smile did nothing for his appearance as he pointed the knife at Hope, whose voice seemed to have left her body.

"What do we have here?" the man croaked, his voice raspy and scratchy, as though he had been smoking daily for the past year. He looked old, in his mid-fifties, though Hope could hardly concentrate on his age. Her eyes were fixated on the knife in the man's hand, and she chastised herself for not having her own at the ready.

She tried to plead with the man, but it was no use. Her voice cracked as soon as she tried to utter the first word, and the world seemed to spin around her. Her stomach lurched as the man took a tentative step forward, twisting the knife in the air as if he were carving an animal. She stepped back, her feet almost too heavy to carry.

"What's the matta'? Cat got your tongue?" the man sneered, tilting his head to the side. "You're a pretty one, ain't you?"

"Please," she managed to let out at last, though her feeble attempt at mercy must have fallen on deaf ears.

Another step they took, and Hope's mind was racing a thousand miles a second. Thoughts of her parents crossed her mind, their faces and the sound of their voice. Would she truly never see them again after today? Was this how her adventures wound to a close?

Something, or someone, must have been listening to the questions that had invaded her mind, because not a second later, a loud crash sounded from outside and the door of the store behind her burst open. A shower of light flooded the room, and for a moment, the man had to shield his eyes. Hope saw her opportunity and lunged forward, grabbing the wrist of the hand that held the knife.

Though her grip was strong, the man's left arm flew at her throat with surprising strength and squeezed her neck tightly, unyielding. She choked for a moment, trying to remain relentless in her grip, but the man was determined and she had to let go of his arm. With certain agility, he spun her around and held the knife to her throat just as a figure appeared from the new source of the light.

"Hope?" Manuel exclaimed, alarm clear in his voice. Hope dared not speak but grunted in pain as the old man took hold of her left arm and tucked it behind her back in a lock. Manuel's eyes found the man and Hope on the far side of the store, what little light that seeped through the window casting elongated shadows of their form.

"HOPE!" he yelled, reaching for his knife at once and brandishing it. "Get away from her, you son of a bitch!"

The man did nothing but snarl at him as if he were a feral dog. Hope could only see forward toward Manuel, whose face was contorted in a mixture of panic and rage. She tried fruitlessly to get out of the chokehold herself, but the blade was much too close to her throat for her to try any sudden movements. In essence, they were screwed.

"I said, get away from her," Manuel repeated, raising the knife so it was level with his face.

"Or what?" the man spat, a drizzle of saliva dripping onto Hope's shoulders, making her shudder. "You're gonna kill me, little boy?" he said in a mocking tone, pressing the knife ever so gently against her bare skin. A thin trickle of blood trailed down her neck and into her shirt, staining the white fabric.

"You bet your ass I'm gonna kill you," Manuel said, although he did not sound altogether convinced of it himself.

"Can you not read, boy?" the man snarled again, emphasizing the last word with venom in his voice. "Keep out means no poking your nose where it don't belong. That goes double for the missy."

"We didn't know anyone was living here," Manuel argued, taking a single step forward, which the man, fortunately, failed to notice. "We figured this town was abandoned just like the rest."

"Well, it ain't!" the man said. "You and your people have gotten into my business one too many times. Now, it's payback time."

The shaggy man raised the knife momentarily, seemingly savoring the moment. Hope and Manuel locked eyes and she blinked, hoping to convey everything she hadn't said into a single look. She saw him shake his head ever so slightly as his eyes shifted downwards. Her own hazel ones lit up in excitement, and she nodded. Another one of their crazy plans had just formed.

Before the blade could go down to deliver the fatal blow, Hope's foot went up from the ground and connected with the man's crotch, who staggered backward, freeing Hope. For a moment, she was too stunned to move, but Manuel's sudden shout brought her back to reality. She began running forward, but her right foot hit a large object obstructing the path and she fell hard on the floor. Before Manuel could advance to help her, the man had risen once again.

He bounded toward her with surprising speed and grabbed Hope by the left side of her head, the curls in her hair clutched between the man's fingers. His other hand reached down and seized her by the throat again, his deadly intent ever-present. She looked up in pain, seeing the bloodshot eyes of the deranged man whose face looked more animal than human. It was the first time she saw him fully in the light of day.

His bushy beard covered most of his face, his lips hidden behind the black hair. The skin around his eyes looked hollow and his cheeks were gaunt, as though he had barely eaten in the past month. As he raised his arm to plunge the knife into her heart, his mouth opened to reveal the yellowing teeth, rotten by the years.

Before he could attack, however, another figure lunged into the man's chest and threw him off of Hope. The man grunted in pain as he fought Manuel off. Manuel, however, had a knife of his own. As both men struggled against each other, Hope regained her composure, coughing as air returned to her lungs.

Manuel turned his head and looked at Hope with concern. "Hope, are you okay?" he shouted. His brief moment of distraction was everything the old man needed. With a swift motion, he slapped Manuel's knife off his hand and connected a hard punch on the boy's face, throwing him off balance. Now, the man hovered over Manuel menacingly, trying desperately to bury the knife in his chest. Having recovered slightly, Manuel was doing an admirable job of keeping him at bay, but the weight of the man was stronger.

Deflecting the blade from his heart, Manuel tried to hit the knife off but the man found a way to penetrate the boy's skin. The knife punctured Manuel's shirt and ripped through his abdomen. Half of the blade had gone through, and Manuel's scream of agony was enough to make Hope lurch.

Somehow, she found the strength to get up and look around. Manuel's knife was lying on the floor beside the two men, shining in the daylight. She grabbed it by the hilt and scrambled to her feet.

"Please, stop!" she yelled over Manuel's scream, to no avail. The man's laughter was loudest of all, maniacal and deranged. It resounded in Hope's skull like a ringing, making her shudder.

"STOP!" she yelled again. Her hands trembled and she raised the knife, blade pointing downward. When she could take it no more, she plunged it down into the man's back, who screamed in pain.

She kicked the man off Manuel and kneeled beside the boy, blood staining his shirt. Remembering Ruby's training, she applied pressure to Manuel's abdomen, wincing as the blood seeped through the shirt and onto her hands.

"You little bitch," she heard the man say, his face covered in sweat. Blood had stained his hidden lips and dripped onto his beard. "You've… ugh, killed me!"

"I'm sorry!" she cried, tears prickling her eyes. "I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah," the man said, almost dejectedly, as he lay back down on his back. It looked as though he had given up the fight. "Whatever lets you sleep at night, kid," he said softly, coughing up more blood onto his ripped shirt. She could hear both men's ragged breaths. After a few seconds, one of the breaths had stopped.

"Manuel, Manuel," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please stay with me. You gotta stay with me."

"Hope…" he breathed, raising his hand to her face. "You're okay."

Tears dripped from Hope's eyes, flowing down her cheeks. It was not often she allowed herself to cry, but she could not help it. She nodded softly and closed her eyes. "Please," she said, shaking her head.

"Don't leave me."