Chapter 10

Nathon munched on the last packet of crackers thoughtfully. The sun had risen an hour or two ago, but that was the only thing that gave him any idea of what time it was. He had only recently gotten over the habit of looking at the clocks that had all stopped at 1:48 in the morning. Not that time really mattered anymore- Nathon had even lost track of what the date was. He was fairly sure that they had been living under Elliot's roof for about a month and a half, which meant it was mid June. It had been at least three or four weeks since the night he had spent outside.

He had since stopped wearing his jacket, because the of the sudden warm summer weather and lack of air conditioning, so now he wore a mostly clean white t-shirt and his old jeans, which Elliot had confiscated a week or two ago to clean and mend. The patches sewed over the holes in the knees were made of a clashing color of denim, but Nathon didn't really mind. Just as Nathon was vaguely beginning to wonder where the girls were, Elliot walked into the kitchen, putting up her hair in a pony tail.

"Morning, Nathon." She mumbled through teeth clenched down over a hair band while her hands were futilely trying to brush back her hair smoothly. Giving up, she sat down next to Nathon, peered into the empty cracker box, then snatched the last one from the pack Nathon had opened. "I need a haircut," Elliot huffed, and with a sideways glance at Nathon, "Looks like you do too." Elliot stood up and opened a few cabinets, looking for something else to eat, but Nathon already knew her search would come up short. He also knew what that meant for him.

"I do believe food is a much more pressing matter, however." Elliot's quiet counting of the dozen or so cans and bottles of water was audible to Nathon as he swallowed the last of his breakfast. By the time she turned around, Nathon knew what she was going to say. "Time for another grocery run, I'm afraid." Nathon groaned and slumped with is head in his arms on the table.

"I really dislike those." He muttered. He could hear Elliot walk around the table and sit in the chair next to him. He felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I know you do. We kind of need you, though."

Nathon sat up, "Why?" He asked. "Bait? To run around asking for zombies to go ahead and take a bite?" Nathon began speaking in a high pitched mocking tone, "Oh, don't worry about Nathon, he's immune, it's okay if they eat off his arm while we go around with our guns and zombie fighting skills and do the easy job." He entered his normal tone again. "Not to sound self-centered or anything, but shouldn't I be kept safe as possible? Isn't there like, the key to saving humanity in my blood?"

Elliot shook her head. "First of all, you aren't bait. And I won't ask you to do anything more than I expect you're able to. Second, yes, you probably are important. But have you looked outside recently? There are almost no reanimated running around here anymore. They've gone back to the city. We've got to be the only people still in the suburbs. And you can work a gun now, too. You've gotten enough practice. You could probably even go out on your own-"

"WHAT." Nathon's voice involuntarily got louder at the realization that Elliot would even think about letting him go out there by himself. "No. I cannot go out on my own, that's ridiculous. No way."

"If you'd stop your whining and learn to shoot a gun with confidence you could do it." Nathon turned around to glare at Sarah, who had entered the room unheard. Her sudden entrances never seemed to phase him anymore. It turns out that everything can be gotten used to. However, her return glare was more than enough reason to remember why he still followed her orders, and he quickly looked away.

"Your advantage can either be looked at one of two ways- as a cure or as the best defense against fighting those monsters on your own. And if there was anyone who had the resources and knowledge to derive some kind of cure or vaccine from you, chances are they aren't exactly on the side of the living anymore. You aren't all that important."

"Why is everyone acting more insane than usual?" Nathon was standing now, fighting the urge to flail his arms around in frustration. "You guys are like killing machines, and I'm just some poor loser that got dragged here to run a camera. That alone outweighs this stupid immunity of mine."

"It was only a suggestion, sheesh." Elliot rolled her eyes. I said I wouldn't ask you to do anything more than I would expect from you, and I wouldn't even want to go out there alone if it could be helped. Besides, you can't carry enough on your own to make the trip worth it. We have three people, two dogs, and a cat in this house." Elliot glanced at Jimmy, who was sitting proudly at Sarah's feet. "If we want enough food to last us more than a week, we'll need more than what you can carry on a bike- huh." Elliot cut herself off and seemed to go into her own thoughts. She walked over to a window and looked outside, creating an awkward silence that Nathon filled by continuing to avoid Sarah's gaze, but he could see her look at him with utter contempt, her arms crossed across her chest as she leaned against the door frame, tapping a heeled shoe against the wood floor, out of the corner of his eye.

"You know," Elliot called from the window, "We could probably take a car. The reanimated really have dispersed, and my hybrid is pretty quiet." She returned to her seat once again, a look almost resembling excitement on her face. "We can carry much more in there, and we wouldn't all have to go. In fact, if only one or two of us went, there'd be more room to load the car."

"Sweet!" said Nathon, immediately lightening up, "Count me out. I'll stay here and open the door for you guys." Nathon sat back down in the chair, relieved.

"Not so fast, shorty." Sarah's grating voice ripped into Nathon's relief. "If it's space we're worried about, you're the smallest, so you're definitely going. Also, whoever is left to defend the house should be able to actually defend it." Nathon was tempted to glare at her again but couldn't muster the courage. He knew she was right, and glancing at Elliot, it was obvious from her sympathizing expression that she knew it too. With a sigh, Nathon stood up again.

"Let me get some shoes, dammit."