"I'd have to be braid dead not to know what all of you think of me…. But guess what: I don't give one flying fuck!" Cameron snarled at them. "You guys may hate that I'm in charge, but I hate being in charge. I hate being responsible for the lives of others, because if any of you die it's on me. I shouldn't have to deal with this shit!"

A few months ago during the first anniversary of Yuba's establishment as a survivor's colony eight people were officially made lieutenants—Cameron, much to his annoyance, was one of those eight. Because of that the men and women currently under his command just glared at him defiantly. Half of them were members of the militia that were there since day one and didn't believe that Cameron should have such authority.

The other half of his unit was made up of newcomers to Yuba that joined the militia and just couldn't comprehend that a kid like Cameron could wield power. They thought that they faced far worse in the first year of the outbreak and didn't have to listen to someone so young and (in their opinion) inexperienced. But to have order and cohesion within a military there had to be a clearly defined chain of command that everyone had to adhere to.

Goddamn it, why couldn't of that operation near Milwaukee earlier that week produce results? Then the brass wouldn't have decided to try again while at the same time take the opportunity to prove a point by sending Cameron out with these people.

"But just because I don't like it doesn't mean jack shit," he went on harshly. "I was still put in command of this truck, so all of you will follow my orders while we're out here. If you want to contradict me then by all means do it—but only if you have a damn good reason. Otherwise you'll find your name at the bottom of the list for proper housing. Is that clear!"

That last threat hit home, especially with the old hands who still lived in public lodging. Houses were not something that sprang up over night, and Cameron certainly could say who should be moved up or down if need be. But in all honesty he didn't want to end up having to do that. Because when the day came that he and Becky applied for housing, it would be a bloody scene if someone threatened their spot on the list.

"Good," he said in a more docile tone. "Now start clearing out the zombies." Everybody then aimed their rifles down at the zombie horde that had been reaching up at them and banging on the truck the entire time Cameron was talking.

"What the fuck was that?" asked Tony, who at the moment was his only ally there.

"I'm in no mood to take shit from anybody," Cameron answered.

"Yeah, but did you have to be such a ball buster?"

Cameron snorted. "You think Marge's gonna have any mercy on me? It was supposed to be my day with Chloe!" He took his rifle, aimed down, and popped the first zombie he got in his sights.

With that one of the objectives for this excursion was pretty much accomplished: to solidify Cameron's role as a lieutenant with those who opposed to it. Word would spread among the rest of them that if they didn't like Cameron leading then they simply had to ask not to be put under his command.

The second objective was happening on another truck on the other side of the lakeside complex. Paula, another one of the lieutenants, was babysitting a bunch of teenagers that did little to no fighting outside of Yuba's walls. The current mission was low risk compared to others, so the higher ups decided to send them out for the zombie shooting experience. In a way Cameron probably got the better unit, preferring to deal with stubborn jackasses rather than moronic teenagers (Wow, when did I get old? Cameron asked himself with sigh).

Unfortunately for the two trucks the zombie extermination took longer than expected. Even though they knew that Manitowoc was only a couple of miles to their north, they had miscalculated the zombie population around the city. It seemed as if a lot more people than they thought had fled south after the outbreak, therefore the amount of infected was a lot larger.

It wasn't until right before sundown that the last zombie in sight fell to the ground with a bullet through its brain. There were many piles of dead bodies around, any of which could contain a trapped zombie. Even more unnerving was the two structures in the complex that still contained more of the things. He was about to go to the truck's radio to ask Paula what they should do, when Cameron noticed a figure climbing down the side of the other truck.

"Fuck," he breathed, wanting to be more cautious. Taking the rope ladder from the hatch, he put it over the side of the truck and climbed down. As he went to meet Paula, Cameron told his people to relax but be wary.

"Not exactly the time we planned on finishing, eh?" Paula commented, sighing.

"Tell me about it…. So how did Sarah do?" Cameron asked to lighten the mood.

"Other than a case of the shakes she did just fine," she confirmed. "You taught her pretty well."

"Had to," Cameron told him, shaking his head and grinning. "Otherwise Becky would have my ass."

Paula started to snicker. "She already owns your ass, Cam—hell, she and Marge have joint custody of it."

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically.

"But seriously, you should consider teaching more."

Maybe when hell freezes over. "So what do you think we should do now?" he asked, getting back to business.

"Beats me. Either proceed with the next phase now, wait here 'til tomorrow, or go home."

"Home's over two hours away, though," Cameron said in thought. It would've been a waste of gas to send the trucks home only to come back. "No sense in both trucks spending the night here. We could send one home."

"Which one?"

"How about the one full of kids with parents bitching at them to get home?" he suggested.

"You're only a year older than most of them there, y'know," she reminded him with a smirk.

Cameron rolled his eyes. "Ugh, don't remind me."

"Alrighty, I'll give Cole a call to bring the boat around before I head out."

"Whoa, hold on! Why're you leaving? Your driver doesn't need you for that."

"Uh…why would I stay?"

"Because you'll be the one going on the boat ride," he answered.

"Uh huh, bullshit—you are, Cam."

"I thought you were!"

"Hell no!"

Cameron wiped his mouth in frustration. "This is something that should have been decided beforehand."

Paula then reached into her pocket to pull out a Quarter. "Call it," she said, flipping it into the air.

"Heads."

Catching it and turning it over to the back of her hand, she announced, "Tails."

"Fuck…why do you even have that?"

"For situations like these," she told him with a smile. "I'll tell Becky you said hi. Good luck tomorrow."

It was with envy that Cameron and his unit watched as the other truck pulled away and drove out of the complex. A little while later a pickup truck with a motorboat on a trailer pulled up the immense driveway. Cole had spent the entire day in a safe place away from any zombies until the area was cleared, but that didn't stop other zombies from catching sight of the vehicle and giving chase.

Cole parked the pickup next to the truck, got out, and quickly climbed up the rope ladder provided for him before the zombies got close. After the things were killed the unit spent the rest of the night in the truck either sleeping, eating, or on the look out for any other zombies.

"So how did things go with these guys?" Cole asked when it was just he, Cameron, and Tony on top of the truck.

"Not so bad. It took some incentive but they listened," Cameron answered.

"He threatened their spot on the housing list," Tony elaborated.

Cole winced. "Yeah, that'll do it." Then he said more sincerely, "Hopefully they'll stop being so pissy as time goes on…. And if not fuck 'em. Not everyone has to like you."

Cameron just shot him a grin. "Damn, and here I was hoping for universal popularity."

The next morning only two zombies stumbled upon them, and they were quickly dispatched. Cole then got back in the pickup to back up the boat's trailer into the waters of Lake Michigan. And so they began the next phase, which was the third and main reason behind the operation: find a ship.

Of all his dissenters, Maureen Reed was the one Cameron felt the most sorry for. When the mission was being planned out it was clear they needed a motorboat, so they asked around and Maureen, much to her regret, stepped forward. A trip to her old house had been made to retrieve it—luckily it was kept in a shed under a tarp that helped shield it from the elements, so no major work needed to be done on it. So not only was she with them now, she also participated in the wasted trip to Milwaukee's coast.

Maureen, Cameron, and Cole loaded up into the boat with some supplies for the day. The rest of the people in the truck were told to stay put and that they should be back in a few hours. If not then further instructions would be given via the extra CB radio that was brought with them.

Soon enough they ventured out into the open waters taking a northern route towards Manitowoc. Cameron just leaned back in his seat and let the wind whip through his hair with his rifle in his lap. It would be a while until they got close enough to see the city's shore so he just closed his eyes and pretended it was nothing more than a relaxing boat ride…. Man, what he wouldn't have given to have Becky wrapped around his arms at that moment.

"Holy shit!" Cole exclaimed, causing Cameron to jerk up in attention.

"Mornin' sunshine," Maureen said lazily.

"I dozed off? How long?"

She shrugged. "Fifteen/twenty minutes."

"So what happened?" In response she waved off to her left. "Holy shit!"

The city's coastline was teeming with countless zombies, most likely former people trying to make an escape via water only to get trapped. A shiver traveled up Cameron's spine, making him to look over the side of the boat wondering how many more, if any, were lurking down there. The zombie that he couldn't see was infinitely more frightening than the one could. Madison was one thing, but the good portion of Manitowoc's population had to out there on the shore.

"Shouldn't be surprising," Cole said anxiously. "This is pretty much what Doyle described to us after he got back from Milwaukee."

"Let's just get this over with," Cameron said unevenly.

For the next hour or so they went up and down shore looking for a vessel that was big enough to suit their needs. Unfortunately the best they were able to find were half sunken boats that were probably too small anyway. And even if they weren't it would've been next to impossible to get them in working order. They decided to venture to a marina, but the boats there wouldn't do either—not to mention they had no keys, and the zombies present were going nuts because of the out of reach meals.

Cole offered to get on one of the boats to attempt to hotwire it, but Cameron decided against it. None of them knew for sure whether or not that'd work, and if he tried then Cameron and Maureen would have to keep the zombies at bay. Not worth the risk. Cameron put the safety of his people above everything else.

Maureen turned the boat around and they got away from the shoreline. They decided to sail a bit farther north to try their luck, but decided to turn back when it became clear they wouldn't find anything. "Good thing, too," Maureen said, looking at the fuel gauge. "We're over half empty."

Cameron sighed in disappointment at the wasted trip. "Fine, let's get back to base."

"How about we go back in an arc to cover more ground—uh—water," Cole said, pointing southeast towards open water.

"We don't have enough gas to do that," Maureen told him.

"So we'll paddle."

"With what?"

"Look, we already know there's nothing back the way we came," he said reasonably.

She just rolled her eyes. "You're call, Cameron."

Thinking about it for a second, he decided it was worth the gamble. "Take the detour."

"God dammit," she breathed in frustration, navigating towards the open water.

He heard her mumble something nastily under her breath, which Cameron decided to ignore…. But Cole took a different approach. "What was that?" he asked her pointedly.

"Nothing," she replied.

"Forget it," Cameron said.

"No we wanna know," Cole pressed.

We?

"I said it was nothing."

"Just come out with it!"

"Fine! I said that I knew Cameron was going to make a stupid decision eventually," she said with scoff. "It was idiotic to make a someone so young a lieutenant."

"Well deal with it," Cameron said before Cole could say anything. "Now both of you keep your mouths shut unless you spot something."

Maureen groaned. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. It's just really hard to take you seriously when you're younger than my son…who just happens to have a crush on your fiancé!"

Cameron grimaced slightly but didn't say anything. He didn't like Phil, and the feeling was mutual. He was one of the bastards that hit on Becky during her and Cameron's time apart. That was why Cameron didn't exactly miss him when Phil stayed abroad on Wesley's team. Absentmindedly twisting the ring on his finger, Cameron thought menacingly, That asshole better give it up soon or he'll find himself in a ditch.

"You think your son should've been promoted instead?" Cole asked.

"No, he has no experience leading."

"Cameron does!" He certainly changed his tune since Monroe.

"I told you two to shut up!" Cameron snapped.

From that point they rode in silence. It was nothing but open water in front of them, and it seemed like a waste of time. Well if they had to paddle the rest of the way back, so be it. No use complaining about it.

But suddenly Maureen slowed the boat down. When asked if they were already out of gas, she shook her head and said, "Maybe this wasn't such a waste after all." She accelerated once more away from land to a far off shape in the water. As they got closer a smile began appearing on all their faces.

"Well I'll be a sonuvabitch," Cole said, leaning over the boat.

"Let's hope she's seaworthy," Maureen said.

"Hey, it floats—that's all I care about right now!" For right in front of them was a luxury yacht that had to be over a hundred feet long! The paint was peeling off and there was rust in many places but it was still the kind of boat that would be useful to them.

"Fuck yeah!" Cameron exclaimed, even though some zombies on the ship noticed their presence and were reaching for them over the railing. Without it needing to be said, rifles were brought up and they took out the zombies before them.

After the ones within sight were taken out they maneuvered around the yacht in search of more. The few that appeared were killed easily, and once they were sure that all on top were gone they went to the yacht's rear, where there was a dock for smaller boats.

Cole carefully stepped out of the boat onto the yacht. "What rich asshole owned this?" he asked with a big grin on his face.

"Likely one of the dead-heads here," Maureen said after the motorboat was securely tied to the dock using a provided tether.

Once all three of them were on the dock with their rifles at the ready, Cameron said, "No different from any other supply run. I'll take point, you two watch my back—we open no doors until we know for a fact the deck's clear…. Move."

It didn't take that long for them to make sure the deck no longer had live zombies. Cameron told them to throw the carcasses overboard, but Maureen immediately shot that down. She pointed out that the anchor was down, which meant that the yacht was likely brought to a stop and had its engine cut on purpose. So the keys were probably in the pocket of one of the dead.

The three of them went to one of the doors and Cameron pounded it with his fist…nothing. Still, Cameron positioned Cole and Maureen in front of the door with their rifles up, while he opened it…nothing again. Other than a few bloodstains the hallway below was clear. Before venturing down they all grabbed the flashlights they brought with them.

Whoever had owned the yacht really was one rich bastard. There were bedrooms, fully equipped bathrooms, game rooms, and a kitchen (full of rotten food). Other than the occasional zombie waiting in the dark, it seemed the most of the infected on the boat had been on the deck. But it still took nearly an hour to make sure that all the levels including the engine room were cleared.

So now came the daunting task of checking the pockets of every single corpse. At first Cole thought the struck gold after finding a set of keys in the first zombie he looked through, but at that same moment Cameron also found a set on another body. For all they knew each adult body could have keys.

In another room Cole let out a long whistle. "Wow, not bad at all," he announced, lifting a corpse's left hand and removing its watch. "Always wanted a Rolex—and it still works, too…. What?" he asked in response to Cameron and Maureen's glares. "Hey, not like he needs it." Cole strapped the watch to his wrist without shame.

Cameron was put to the test a little while later as they inspected a female body. "Think Becky would like this?" he asked Maureen, holding up a diamond necklace.

"Sure…until you tell her where you got it from." Cameron tossed the necklace away as if it were on fire.

Once all the bodies on the yacht were checked they had five sets of keys in total. They would have gone to the yacht's bridge to test if any of them worked, but it would have been a fruitless effort. None of the lights in any of the rooms worked, so the battery was probably dead. It was now up to the mechanics in town to see what it'd take to get the yacht working (odds might be that it was unsalvageable, but they had to try).

The group called it a day, returned to the motorboat, filled it up with some gas found on the ship, and headed back to shore. The anchor was down on the yacht so there was no danger of it drifting somewhere else. Back on land the boat was tied to a stump, and everyone loaded up back into the truck to head back home. Pretty anticlimactic end, but what else could they do?

Hours later back at Yuba Cameron met with Isturez and gave him a blow by blow of what happened after Paula left. Just as Cameron predicted, Isturez started contemplating sending over some mechanics with Turnbull in charge—unfortunately for Maureen she was conscripted into going since she knew the way.

When the meeting was done and pleasantries were exchanged, he let himself out. "Hey, it's daddy!" Cameron heard behind him. Smiling, he turned around to see Becky approach with Chloe in her arms.

"Hi, sweetheart, miss me?" he said to Chloe as she was handed to him, and then kissing Becky.

"How was your day?" she asked, as if he just got back from the office.

"Same old, same old," he replied. "Where's Marge?" She didn't usually leave the baby with someone else.

"I offered her a break."

"Why didn't Dennis?" Cameron asked curiously.

"Perimeter patrol…. Why?" she asked with a sudden glare. "You don't think I can take care of your daughter?"

"What? NO! I—I just—"

Then her face broke into a cheeky grin. "I'm kidding!"

"Jeez," he breathed with relief.

"So, find yourself a boat?" Becky said as they started walking.

"Yep. Another team is going back tomorrow."

Becky exhaled in some annoyance because it'd be her turn to go along as one of the shooters. "Wesley better come back telling us those people held up their end of the bargain."

"If not then we just wasted gas and bullets."

A/N: PLEASE read my profile bio