Six Months Later

"Carlos!" Claire called, her voice carrying easily through the quietly murmuring convoy.

"You could use the radios. That's what there for," Carlos's voice answered on her walkie-talkie.

"I felt like yelling," Claire answered grimly.

"What did I do this time?"

Claire smiled at this, but gave an annoyed look at the girl beside her in the truck. K-Mart grinned sheepishly.

"Your little shadow wants a gun."

There was silence over the line, and Claire could imagine Carlos shaking his head.

"Are you going to explain to her- yet again -why she is not allowed a gun?" she prompted.

"I tried. It's your turn," the short answer came. K-Mart grinned in devilish triumph now.

"Pointless," Claire answered, but she did not deliver it over the radio. She snorted before clicking online again. " You done putting those perimeters up yet?" Another pause.

"I am now. On my way in. See you for mapping."

Claire looked over to K-Mart, who gazed at her with pleading eyes. They were not the immature eyes of the twelve year old they had picked up in the store after which she was named, any longer. But they were not of a grown woman, either. They were the eyes of a child that had seen too much before her maturity level was equipped to handle it. She had warned Carlos to be careful not to become attached, but she had to admit now, however grudgingly, that she had become fond of the girl. She could be an annoying little nit. She was the only child in the entire convoy that had not attached to someone within the survivor group, and the only one that talked to the leaders. Though all but LJ and Mikey pretended to be irritated by the girl, she was a lift of spirits with her childish laughter that came so easily, when all others could only manage grim shakes of heads. Carlos, on the other hand, showed no annoyance or fondness. Claire knew, however, that he cared for the girl that had latched herself to him for the near of three months before Carlos managed to defuse the girl from his side for more than five minutes at a time. K-Mart was becoming more independent now, and for this, everyone in the leading group was glad. None wanted to see her gone, but some had worried that the experience of being alone, terrified, and constantly fleeing for her life, had wounded her permanently. LJ had observed her one day as she sat on the back of the motor bike upon which Carlos carried the motion cameras without asking permission, wrapping her slender arms about Carlos's waist, saying,

"What will that girl do when Carlos dies?" It was a singularly serious thought out of a generally joking man, but all had nodded in agreement. That she began allowing Carlos time alone now was clearing their worried. Nevertheless, K-Mart still accompanied Carlos at night, and through the early morning.

"Fine," Claire answered, rolling her eyes. K-Mart allowed her smile to show a charming set of teeth before jumping up from ground of the dying forest, and took off at a dead run

Carlos was not surprised to see the young girl speeding towards him as he pulled the bike into the encampment and turned off its engine. He smiled gently, and allowed the girl her accustomed hug. K-Mart had become more independent, it was true, but after hearing shots numerous times while he was out placing sensors or scouting, she had created a habit of attempting to squeeze his insides to death the moment he pulled in. Her attachment had created a great worry for him. He had never been a physically loving person, but he never denied her those moments of renewed comfort, and he always returned with a firm squeeze. He sometimes thought of his little sister, Tara, when he felt K-Mart hugging him tightly. He had never really returned her affection, and had greatly regretted it after he had returned home to find only remains of his family's residence. He had known then that his family, like so many others, no longer existed humanly, and so they were dead to him.

"Why are you giving Claire a hard time about having a gun?" he asked teasingly, but he put a firm tone in his voice. "You know we can't allow you to have a gun all the time. Accidents happen. Ah-ah-ah," he corrected as she opened her mouth to argue. "If they attack and there is a gun on-hand, shoot the bastards' heads off, but until then, no gun." He gave a shoulder a small, firm shake, his sign that the conversation was now over, and then continued forward.

K-Mart followed silently, content to remain silently by his side. She had rarely spoken when she had attached herself to him firmly, and so she rarely spoke now. They made their way routinely to the yellow SUV, and climbed in the back. She settled into him as he stretched out across the back seat, nestling her head on his chest, allowing his steady heartbeat to lull her. He reached over her onto the ground, and tugged a crumbled, thin blanket atop of the girl, before letting himself relax against the car door.

Claire passed by on her way to the black Toyota, ready for her bit of sleep before the midnight shift came on. Both she and Carlos had been assigned the midnight shift, and so both slept three hours before the call. She paused, gazing through the open door of the yellow Hummer through which Carlos's booted feet and K-Mart's tennis stretched out, an looked on with a mixture of sadness and envy. Carlos had sensed her presence, and his eyes opened momentarily, raising a half-hearted hello gesture before relaxing again. She hung her head and continued on.

Carlos listened to Claire's firm footsteps carry away from the car, and he sighed. Sometimes, he felt sorry for the woman. She had put this convoy together, led it wisely and faithfully. Yet she had no one to cushion her when she fell, no one to hug onto at night like he or K-Mart. He had been more than comfortable being a loner until K-Mart had come along, and he had accepted her as a shadow easily. Claire, however, refused to allow any real commradery between herself and any other living being, despite her dedication to preserving humanity. She had once explained the deaths of her families and friends to him, in a rare moment of release. She, like he had, had been forced to put a bullet in all of their heads. It had scarred her badly, and now she refused friendship from anyone that offered it. She was friendly enough, and fond of some, perhaps, but none one could claim friendship with the hard woman.

K-Mart shifted slightly, and sighed gently against him. He did not open his yes to see if she was away. He knew she was. If the girl did not move within five minutes, it was sue sign of sleeping, but she never staid in one position until she was completely asleep. He raised his hand slightly to touch the girl's honey blond hair, but stopped himself. A true show of random affection would only activate strong emotions that he made it a point to keep locked carefully away from his heart. If he allowed himself to hold her too close to his head, and she was to turn… He clenched his teeth. He cared about the kid too much already. He was not sure he would be able to put the bullet in her head if she turned. He cracked his eyes open a slit, seeing the hazy gleam of her light hair in the orange light of the camp's fires. She did not have to tell him how she lost her family, but he had always wondered why she had created such a deep attachment so quickly, while others that they had found were always loners for months, remaining entirely friendless until they got to know the strangers around them.

"K-Mart."

The girl shifted, and made a questioning sound lightly.

"You lost more than your family to the undead, didn't you?"

K-Mart's shifting stopped suddenly, and he felt her tense against him. She did not answer at first, and he waited, allowing her time to think about something she had most likely pushed out of her thoughts since the day she had been found, if not longer. Finally, the girl nodded, but remained silent.

"Who was it?" he asked quietly, his voice low and careful not to draw attention from outside.

"Shila."

Carlos waited again, patiently.

"We hid under the bathroom sinks. I heard them outside the door, eating mom and dad," she began slowly. Carlos made no movement or sound. The story was very familiar, and nothing to comment on. "They made these squishing noises…like a foot in the mud." He felt her stomach against his own, churning and complaining as she recalled her story. "Everything was quiet, so we came out…we went to the kitchen to try to make it out the back door, but they had knocked over the dining table." She swallowed heavily, and he felt tears wetting the material over his chest. "There was still one left, and it heard us. It came in the doorway, and there was no way out but the kitchen window. I knew I would fit but…Shila was too fat. It was coming, even after I threw knives at it. Nothing stopped it." Her voice choked, and she stopped, swallowing again. Still, Carlos said nothing, though he was sure he knew where this was leading. He already had the answer to his question. " I didn't want to leave her, but…she was too big. She couldn't get out. And she could not run fast enough if we had to. I didn't want to leave her…but I knew she would die anyway. I went out the window, but I stopped to watch. I threw rocks at it from the window, but it didn't stop. It bit her throat and chewed on it…she tried to scream, but she couldn't. She just choked like a dying animal…" her voice trailed off, and she gagged between quiet sobs. Carlos closed his eyes and brought his arms about her shoulders gently, cradling her head and stroking her hair with his thumb. "I didn't want to leave her! I left her behind to die. I should have died, too. I'm such a baby. Why did I leave her?" she sobbed into his chest, curling up into herself now, drawing her arms against her breasts and forming a tight ball against him.

"You survived," he answered simply, his voice rumbling gently in his chest against her ear. "That's all any of us can do." He was silent for a second, debating his next words before deciding to seize the proper moment before he lost it. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't have met you. And things would be a lot worse for me right now. You're a good little sister." And with a rare show of affection that nearly pained him, knowing that either one or the other would eventually lose the other, he gently kissed the crown of her head.

He continued to hold her silently until she had cried herself to sleep, holding close, and cherishing, the warm body of a loved one.