"Render," Jonah said as the young teenager walked onto the RV. "Where have you been?"

"Talking," Render replied. "The leader knows, by the way. About me." The group groaned.

"What the hell did you do?" Ryan asked. Render looked up and did a double take. For the first time since meeting him, Ryan's hood was down. And Render was surprised. Ryan looked almost human, except that his eyes seemed to have glazed over, the irises silver. His hair was pitch black. Render noticed that Ryan's teeth weren't as sharp as he would have thought, though he did have a fang hooked over his lip on the left corner of his mouth. "What?" Render shook his head.

"Nothing. Just talked, like I said," Render said. "And…um…offered our services to the camp…" he added, though he had looked at his iPod as he said this, acting like it wasn't a big deal.

"Such as?" Ryan prompted.

"Er…CEDA," was all Render had to say.

"A little more?"

"Look, if you want to know so much, then why don't you just talk to him yourself?"

Ryan growled, pulling his hood back over his head, tucking his hands into his pocket. "You are something else, kid," Ryan said, stepping out of the RV. He made his way to what reminded him of a camp center and Ryan came to the realization that this may at one point have been a camp. He then shrugged. When he went in, the lady sitting at the counter looked up. "I want to see your boss," Ryan said. "And don't bother going for that button, lady. I hear anything that sounds like men with guns in that office and you're gonna learn what it's like to be on my bad side," Ryan said as he walked past the woman, who was staring at him flabbergasted. He looked at the door of the leader's office, shrugging and walking straight in.

"Can I help you?" the man asked. Ryan stopped and stared at the man. The man had large, cold gray eyes and a head of close shaven black hair, shot through with streaks of silver. "I said, can I help you?" the man said again as Ryan didn't answer. "Hey…hey! Why you…Answer me!"

"Sir!" Ryan said suddenly, pulling his hands out of his pocket and saluting the man. "Private Ryan Selini, sir!" Ryan then mentally berated himself as he realized that his military habits had kicked in.

"Ryan…" the man stood up, limping on his right leg and walking over to Ryan, his eyes showing some shock. Ryan looked at the leg, his mind flashing back to when the man had received that injury. He had still been a rookie at the time and like an idiot, stood and looked at the live grenade at his feet. The man had pushed him out of the way, taking some of the shrapnel in his leg. The doctors had said he was lucky it hadn't cut an artery, but he wouldn't ever walk again. He had proven them wrong and the limp was the result of it. "My god, what the hell happened to you?" the man asked, seeing Ryan's claws, snapping Ryan back to the present. Ryan hesitated and then pulled his hood back.

"The Green Flu virus happened, sir," Ryan said, still standing at attention, though his hand was no longer saluting.

"And how in the world did you end up here, of all places?" the man asked, sitting back down.

"Colonel Jones, permission to sit?" Ryan asked, again mentally berating himself. His habits were beginning to kick into high gear.

"Just Harold now," the man replied. "You're no longer in my command, boy. Now, please, take a sit. No more formalities." Ryan grabbed a foldable chair off the wall, unfolding it and sitting down. He looked at his former commanding officer, Harold Jones, and this time, couldn't stop the flow of memories he began to experience. After a few minutes, he looked up when he heard his name called multiple times. "Ryan, are you okay?"

"Sorry, sir," Ryan said. "Just…bad memories."

"Well, I can tell they're about your time in the military, but I didn't think being in my unit was that bad," Harold said, laughing.

"No, sir, it wasn't," Ryan said. "It's the memories afterwards that trouble me."

"Afterwards? I was led to believe that you had been discharged on the grounds that you had heart problems," Harold said.

Ryan snorted. "Bullshit. I haven't had heart problems a day in my life. No, sir, I was reassigned to…something much more dangerous. I regret it, but that doesn't make it any better when those memories pop up."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." The two men grew quiet, waiting for the other to say something. "So," Harold said after a few minutes. "Are you traveling with that Render kid?"

"Yeah," Ryan nodded. "That's why I came here. He told us he had offered our services to you. Something about CEDA."

"Yes, that," Harold said. "Well, I suppose I may as well tell you, too." Harold motioned for Ryan to come closer and began to whisper to him. "CEDA wants specimens. Carriers, infected, whatever the hell is carrying the Green Flu virus. If we can't provide them with a specimen when they come, they threaten us. To burn this place down. They don't give us food. We've nearly starved to death on many occasions." Ryan's eyes widened, though it was more in anger than anything else.

"Those…those…bastards," Ryan growled, Harold backing up in surprise. He had seen Ryan when he was angry before the infection and was scared back then. But Ryan angry now…Harold was downright terrified. Chills ran down his spine as Ryan growled, too scared to move. "You have my help," Ryan said. "All of my skills. I am yours to command, sir." Ryan walked out of the room, pulling his hood back up and tucking his hands in his pocket. He walked back to the RV and when he got there, he looked at Render, nodding. "Alright, kid. I can't speak for everyone, but I can tell you that I'm in."

"Cool," Render said, flashing a grin.

"Guys, what's going on?" Jonah asked. He was the only one who had heard the two and was curious.

"We're declaring war on CEDA," Ryan said.

"What? Why?" Jonah asked. "Can't this be discussed instead?"

"Jonah, there are some things in this world that I cannot forgive," Ryan said, pulling his sniper rifle from behind the seat and began to take it apart. "CEDA has this place by the throat. Their demands are specimens. The consequences include the possible burning down of this area and even a cut off from food. CEDA's made their true intentions clear. Next time they come here, we're sending a message that this place is off of their travel stops from this day forward."

"Ryan," Jonah said, his tone making both Render and Ryan look at him. "There's always a peaceful resolution. Before you do anything, at least let me see if I can make a deal with them."

Ryan and Render looked at each other before looking back at Jonah. "Jonah, I don't think that'll work with these people," Render said.

"You just have to talk to the right people," Jonah said before walking to the door of the RV. "But if I can't change their minds…" Jonah left his sentence unfinished, walking down the stairs.

"What was that about?" Render asked.

"I have no idea," Ryan said. "In fact, I don't know a lot about Jonah. I never wanted to ask."

Jonah walked along the edge of the camp, kicking a rock along with him. "There's always a way to peace without violence," he said out loud. He stopped at a tree, sitting down, resting against it. He held his head in his hands, pulling his knees up. "It's because of fighting I lost my mom," he whispered, a tear falling off his chin.

...I think I may have revealed a little more about two of my characters than I wanted to…anyways, sorry for the long wait, those of you who have waited so long. I've been learning about time management thanks to college and so…well, it certainly is a chore. Anyways, please review.