A/N: I have to apologize for the announcement chapter getting everyone's hopes up! I didn't honestlyknow you guys would be so eager to read the next chapter! I wrote it up as fast as I could so as not to disappoint. You guys are truly amazing! :)

I will also have to apologize in advance for the way I'm about to portray Bunny (Aster in this story). I debated for a long time about how to include him in this storyline realistically. It did result in some changes, and although it won't make much sense, I'll keep the accent in the writing (just so I don't make him OOC accidentally). I'm sorry if anyone will find it offensive!

Please read, review, and enjoy! :)

New Eyes

They never believed him. Half the time, they didn't even see him. He was used to it, but that didn't mean that he liked it.

Jack sat up in his tree, contemplating his next moves in the early sunlight. It would be winter soon. The third winter he'd spent Outside, Beyond the Walls. No one lived Beyond the Walls and stayed alive for long, or returned to Burgess to tell the tale. A giant wall was built around the city during the early months of the outbreak. It had been mostly completed when a smaller horde came through and wiped out half the population. Jack tried to warn them, but he kept getting shot at or hit with a bat, a crowbar, and even several shoes. They thought he was one of the dead. Except that they weren't really dead, not at first. It was just easier to say that they were dead. It was easier to kill them thinking that they had already been killed by lawless forces of nature. Of course, some people's defenses broke down; the sounds of their loved ones became siren songs by which they were entranced. But these creatures were not the fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters, nor were they the friends, the relatives, and the neighbors that one once had.

Some of the fanatics started calling them the Unconsecrated. The followers of the Church took over the wall after it had been built by the long-disintegrated military. They claimed the wall as the city's protector, a God-given safe haven. Jack often heard them preach from the ramparts, begging God to lift the demonic spirits from the sinful creatures. They didn't even stop their ramblings when the infected actually started dying. It was the closest word Jack could name that described what happened. The things began to deteriorate. Their bones were frail from malnourishment and their skin pale and burned from the harsh sunlight the following summer. Their hair fell out, their eyes melted. Vocal chords were nearly nonexistent, but one could still hear the faint tongue of English bellowing from their rancid mouths. The true hellishness was surreal and far removed from the various realities in which people forced themselves to believe it was just a plague. It would be like it was during the Black Plague, all those centuries ago. It would blow over. It was humanity's fault for overpopulating the earth and running the resources nearly dry. Jack had heard it all from the ramparts.

Jack had always been a little gullible, but after ramming his staff into his mother's skull and choking his father and slashing his sister's throat, he didn't believe in much of anything. The emptiness in his heart echoed the emptiness inside the Unconsecrated. He was full of holes, as were they. He killed, they killed, all for necessity. A monster was a fitting description for both. Three years of solitude never abated these thoughts of his. One would think they would get used to the loneliness after awhile, but for Jack it renewed itself in bouts and fits of rage and an unnerving sense of unfairness. There were times he could almost forget, but it was never enough, and never was it complete.

Practicing with his staff was one of the few times Jack could truly be a nonentity with zero thoughts. It was an extension of his being that swung and glided through the air as gracefully as the wind. The aged wood was smooth in his palms. It slid from his grasp when he wanted it to and it stayed exactly where he wanted it to stay. His upward swings would always land precisely into the dirt he had marked out. With time, Jack learned to keep it silent as well. It was moderately difficult, considering the more powerful moves elicited an effortful grunt. His anger would bubble over at first, but controlling that was still in progress. If he ever became more upset than usual, the baseline for which was already high, he would walk over to one of the forgotten towns and let them come after him. Occasionally, Jack attached sharper objects to the ends of his staff to make the body count rise. But most of the time, Jack preferred to take his time to kill the things that tore his life apart. Killing was no stranger to him now. He would make sure they went down and stayed down, and clear the area before it became overwhelming. Perhaps, if anyone was living and witnessing, they would see that he was human and they would help him and he would have someone to fight for that was still alive.

Not that fighting for his sister wasn't meaningful. It was the one thing keeping him alive most days. There were some days where he stayed in the treetops and counted the leaves rustling in the breeze, but he made those days few and far in between. Jack knew that his sister wanted to get out of their house and do all of the extracurricular activities that Jack he had done, that she wanted to be talented, and that she wanted to travel. Jack had been able to do many of those─ mostly on a whim─ because his grades suffered even when he tried. His parents, thankfully, were more understanding than most, and allowed him to be homeschooled. The school system still allowed him to be on the various teams he had been, he just didn't go to classes. That had been perfectly fine for Jack, since the kids his age were less than interesting. He was perfectly content to visit the world and take judo and other staff classes, as well as various fighting techniques originating from wherever he had been visiting. Although it seemed like a lot, Jack mostly stayed at home and cared for his sister. Their parents worked a lot to keep all of their dreams afloat, and Jack had never stopped being grateful. He even took shifts at the local stores and diners and secretly paid his parents back during the summer. They would never accept his money up front, so Jack always hid discreet amounts in their clothing or dressers, and smaller amounts into their bank account every few weeks.

And even now, although the house was gone, Jack remembered the last bit of money that he had stashed in his mother's jewelry box that unsuspecting morning. He remembered the money that he'd put in his father's pants for that morning the night before. He wasn't sure if either of them had found the money, but now he knew they never would. They would never know that their son tried to take it all back. He'd even saved money for his sister, but she would never get to use it. And when his world collapsed, he left all of that money to burn with the rest of the things that would have tied him to that place indefinitely. If Jack hadn't done what he'd done, he knew he would have stayed and wallowed in self-pity. But he couldn't let the pain become him. Jack had always been the boy with a permanent smile. Though he often found it hard to smile genuinely in these past three years, he was trying his best.

Just below him, several Unconsecrated shambled around the tree trunk (he'd begun to use the Church's words because they were the only familiar speech he'd heard in so long). Every time they had been able to climb more than a few feet, Jack would poke at their weakened fingers and watch as they tumbled over each other. It was a grim sort of entertainment, but he took what he could get. Standing up on the branch, crouching, Jack holstered his staff and began making his way over to the next tree. This one was an apple tree, a little lower than the one that he was currently on, but it still had some fruit left. If Jack could stash a few apples in his small leather pack, he'd be fed for a few days. He didn't eat much, but keeping up his strength was vital. He still had some nuts in a tin that he'd taken from one of the many convenient stores that were practically empty now. People had started taking even the more undesirable items once the other stuff was confiscated and eaten greedily. But right now, he needed apples. It would be a pleasant start to his day.

Jack was nearing the thinner end of the branch and he was holding onto a thicker branch above his head. Experience told him to always hold onto something, even if you think your feet are stable. His balance had become excellently conditioned, but so had his caution. Jack peered through the thinning, dying leaves to decipher an appropriate landing area in the next tree. Apple trees were notoriously dense and spiky with their branches that reached abruptly upward rather than a gradual rise outward. His feet would more than likely be scraped, they might even bleed, but that was the worst case scenario. Jack was normally careful not to injure himself, lest the numerous dead flock here from miles around just to be disappointed that their meal was in a tree. Although if any more than thirty of the creatures came around, Jack would be sure to hightail it out of there. But right now, the three rather despicable samples below him probably wouldn't be a problem even if he did fall. The only thing that would make him more concerned would be if his staff broke. He'd never been that careless, but Jack still feared his only hold on survival would be snapped in two in the blink of an eye.

One, two, ... three! Jack let his feet drop off the branch, which cracked and landed on one of their heads, and heaved his weight like a pendulum. All he had to do was swing two times, enough to get the momentum, and let go. Then he'd grab the branch that his eyes never left. One, his thumbs pressed into the bottom of the branch and his body swung forward. Two, his momentum drove him nearly horizontal. He could practically taste the apples, and his mouth watered. Thr─

The limb he'd been holding onto dipped lower at the end of his swing, and before Jack could adjust and correct it, his fingers slipped from the smooth wood. The apple tree came too close too fast, and his face couldn't be saved from the claw-like branches that scratched his cheeks. Jack let out a surprised yell as he yanked his face backward, beginning to fall onto his back. Trying not to panic, but fearing for his staff, Jack twisted his body around so that his arms and legs could brace for the ground. But as he was about to feel the grass and the twigs and dead leaves and the compacted earth, a force knocked into his stomach and he was sent spinning on the grass and down a small hill. He would have kept spiraling had his back not been slammed against an oak tree, his limbs still wanting to continue falling and flailing behind him.

Immediately, without checking his own body, his arms went to his holster that had swung around to his midsection. Taking out his staff, Jack ran his hands over the wood, inspecting it for damage. Finding that it was still in good condition, the boy sighed in relief and used it to push himself up off the ground and toward the top of the hill. Almost instantly, Jack felt a stab of pain coming from his ankle. He ignored it, however, because something occurred to him. For some reason, and Jack was sure his face was bleeding at least minutely, the dead weren't coming toward him. Whatever hit him, it clearly didn't want him around the area. But instead of running away, Jack's curiosity got the better of him. The flesh-eating creatures wouldn't simply kick choice meat aside. He was convinced something else had happened. Even before reaching the top of the hill, Jack knew someone else─ someone human─ was there. He heard battle sounds, the twang of a bowstring and the metallic sling of metal being released from its sheath. Jack scrambled up the hill eagerly, hoping he wasn't too late for the fight. His ankle screamed, but he didn't pay attention.

As soon as he was able to see past an overturned and rotting log, Jack's eyes widened. There was a man with long, aging gray hair plaited down his back knocking a wooden arrow onto a rather long, straight bow. The bow was almost as tall as him, and this man looked to be far over six feet tall. His arms were covered in blue tattoos that snaked down from his shoulders. Similar tattoos were on his shoulder blades, all of which seemed feathery but threatening. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but with muscles like that, Jack doubted a shirt would fit the guy. He was wearing a quiver, filled with arrows, around his right shoulder and under his left. His shorts were a dark tanned brown, more natural than Jack's own brown denim, which appeared faded and torn and frayed in more than one area. On his feet, the man wore moccasins, which may have explained why Jack hadn't heard the man approaching. Jack prided himself on his hearing, but clearly this guy was better. That made Jack feel much more competitive, and the thrill of rivalry burned in his veins. He hadn't felt this way in a long time.

But then something shimmering fluttered by him faster than he could see. Hearing a rising cry, Jack looked to his right a little too late to see a woman jumping over the log, twin daggers raised. He ducked and rolled out of the way in time to see that she had plunged her weapons into a shambling corpse that had been behind him. Jack cursed himself for not paying more attention. Looking at the girl completely now, Jack noted that she was wearing a skirt that was longer in the back than the front, which seemed rather inefficient and unnecessary. The skirt itself was a variety of colors without borders, all fading into the next color seamlessly. It looked blue for the most part, but there was also purple, green, and possibly a little yellow toward her small waist. Underneath it, the girl was wearing golden-brown leggings that were slightly lighter than her tanned skin. On her feet were nondescript but tight brown boots. For a shirt, this woman was generously donned with a loose light green shirt that tied around her neck and her stomach, but her back was bare except for the yellow sash that wrapped around one shoulder and around her waist. The sash was wide enough to cover her stomach, but it was thin and could be seen through. Her straight black hair was free-flowing and reached beyond the middle of her back. Seriously, how was she able to fight so quickly dressed like that? Then Jack noticed the holsters strapped to her inner thighs and watched as she wiped her blades of the thing's blood and sheathed them on her hips, deciding that it would be best not to startle her.

The woman turned to him suddenly, eyes alert and wary of him. Jack set his staff down in front of him and put his hands up, showing her that they were empty. Jack caught sight of her eyes and lost all of the breath he had been holding. Her eyes were a bright and unearthly violet. Jack had only heard about this happening in his biology textbook (one of the only classes he had taken at the school rather than at home), in which albinism wasn't completely written into one's genes. But this girl was nowhere near being described as an albino. Nonetheless, she was breathtakingly beautiful with wispy bangs pushed away from her face from the excitement. Her ears sported long, dangling golden feather earrings that touched her shoulders. She didn't even look as old as Jack, and he was mesmerized. The girl didn't speak as she crouched, animalistic in fashion, and made her way closer to him. Their faces were barely a foot apart from each other, and her eyes only grew wider. Jack could feel his eyes doing the same. His were a dark brown, the same as his hair, and he hoped that she could see the very human life that flickered in them.

"T'iana!" a gruff voice pounded above them. Jack whipped his head startlingly, realizing that the man from before was now leaning on the log beside them on one leg. He was wiping his bow with extra cloth that hung from the front of his shorts, the blood coming off in blotches. His eyes were a vibrant light green that glared at him suspiciously. Where did these people come from? Their eyes were beautiful and intense, far more so than the boring brown eyes he'd been used to seeing for so many years at home. Everyone in his family had had brown eyes. Jack was saddened by the thought. "Lemme take care o' this one, you got ta last two."

Jack's heartbeat raced instantly. He knew it. They thought he was infected. If he didn't run away or fight his way out, his life was as good as gone. Jack might not have objected earlier, but he wanted to know more about these magnificent individuals. A new hope began to spark in his mind, and the word became a little brighter then.

The girl stood up now, her feet having been right in front of Jack's, and she stood in between them. Her arms were raised defensively, spread out from her sides. "You can't kill him, Aster! I think he's still human!" Her voice was excited and somewhat childish, but it was hopeful and Jack couldn't help but smile a little. The pull on his lips felt strange, and he liked it. "See? He won't bite me! We have to take him back to camp and get him situated with the others. Maybe we can even find his family and save them, too!" Jack's smile quickly disappeared.

"Or," the man pointed at him accusingly, "he's a Breakah an' we oughta kill 'im before he infects more of 'em! Ya can't go around tryin' ta save e'ry little thing ya see, mate." The man unsheathed a large knife that Jack hadn't seen on him before and leaned toward him, grabbing his blue sweatshirt and pulling him close. His grasp was tight and trained and the knife was positioned at Jack's neck. He pressed on the pale skin lightly. The girl threatened to scream and he paused. Jack could feel every fiber in his body screaming at him to flee, but he couldn't find the strength.

But Jack had to set something straight. He had to try. "Whoa, whoa, hey! I'm not a breaker," Jack held his hands up. He didn't even know what a breaker was, but he knew he wasn't one. Not remotely sure that they would take the excuse─ as many didn't─ Jack prayed they would at least listen. He hadn't spoken, apart from his fighting noises, in over a year. That was the last time he'd been to one of the villages. He'd tried to ask for food and a place to stay, but his throat was parched it came out coarse and, quite frankly, frightening. They'd chased him out of their area and Jack decided to not speak again. Right now, his voice wasn't much better, so he tried to clear his throat and cough before continuing. "I'm not infected." Yeah, that was convincing, Jack.

The girl squealed softly. "He's human, Aster! Please, we have to take him to see the others. He looks old enough, so he might be able to help us. The moon knows we need another helping hand around the camp, especially with the little ones. Excuse me," she spun around and hunched over her knees, peering at the boy with the greatest of curiosities, "what's your name?"

"M─my name?" He thought about giving his full name, but decided against it. There was still a chance that this Aster guy was going to kill him anyway. He wasn't sure why she was asking for his name. Her words were quick and hard to understand, with the hint of an accent playing on her lips. "It's Jack," he said at last, his voice suddenly much clearer than it had been in a long time.

The girl immediately shot out her hands and hoisted him to stand with her. Her arms were little, but she had a surprising amount of strength. "Hello, Jack! I'm Toothiana, but Aster never seems to be bothered with the whole thing. Oh! This is Aster," she swung her body beside Jack's, her arm entwined with his, "he's probably got a longer name, too, be he won't tell any of us. Honestly, he's a little frustrating sometimes, but he's a big bunny rabbit when you get to know him. Quick as one, too!"

"T'iana..." Aster lowered his eyelids with a hint of annoyance. He clearly didn't care for introductions, but he appeared to be thinking something through at the moment. He scratched the back of his head and shook it in defeat. "Awlright, he can come. If he doesn' attack us on the way back, I'll consider 'im."

The girl put her other hand on her hip, shifting her weight closer to Jack. He hadn't been this close to a living being in three years, and it was a lot for him to register all at once. "Aster, you know that's Sgt. North's decision. Please, can we just give him a chance? I'm sure Jack will be fit for the job in a few months with proper care."

"He's not a sergeant anymore," the man grumbled, "but fine. An' Jack 'ere's not allowed in my scouting parties. Not until 'e's ready."

"I know I seem like one, but could you not talk about me like I'm an animal?" Jack shrugged his arm away from Toothiana's grasp and backed away from both of them. Despite not talking in so long, he couldn't help but let the sarcasm leech into his words. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the girl's cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. Jack wasn't sure what that meant, but he wasn't going to mention it. Then she faced him once again and grabbed his face in her hands. Shocked by the sudden touch, Jack instinctively tried to yank away. She held him there, however, and her purple eyes darted around his face. She even pushed open his lips and check inside his mouth. Jack wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish, but it was a little more than strange.

"Well, the teeth don't look to be too damaged..." Toothiana gasped. "You're the one that fell from the tree! Aster, you could have injured him in that fall! I told you not to climb the trees! We better get back to camp, fast, before more of them start coming around here. Sanderson will be able to get him cleaned up. I'm sorry I kicked you, by the way. I thought you were one of them... sorry."

It took Jack a second to realize what the girl was chattering about, and then he realized that his gut was probably bruised. The dull throb reached his consciousness and he was becoming increasingly dizzy. This tiny girl could hit that hard? Jack was amazed, but he'd be more amazed if he could focus on something beside the headache he was beginning to acquire. Jack shook his head. "That's fine. If it weren't for that kick, my staff might have broken."

"I wondered what that was!" Tooth reached behind Jack and he could feel her grabbing the staff and trying to take it out of the holster. Jack shrank away instinctively, putting his own hand toward his staff. Aster jumped toward him and loomed over him, making sure that the threat was well-received. Jack put his hand down and bowed his head.

"Sorry about that," Jack fumbled through an apology, "I don't normally let people near it. It's... been awhile since I've seen people."

The girl crooned sadly until she heard the snap of a twig somewhere in the distance. "Well, we better get going! Come on!" She jumped up and glided over the log and practically flew through the forest haphazardly. Her high spirits were infectious, and Jack caught himself smiling again. His mouth was beginning to hurt pathetically. The girl ran in between the trees and around downed branches faster than Jack could register the sound of her footsteps, which were all but imperceptible. Aster was already walking ahead, leaving Jack behind. The man rolled his shoulders apathetically and he hopped over the log: a bigger jump than Jack thought was possible. Aster's bow was slung over his shoulder in a similar fashion as his quiver, with the wood resting against the leather that held the arrows close to him. Jack was about to follow when his left ankle snapped from under him and he tumbled down the hill again. Before he reached the bottom, his head smacked against something hard and the world around him grew dark.

The moment Jack awoke, his groggy mind wasted no time in recognizing that his staff was not situated on his back. In fact, his back was against something incredibly soft. But that didn't matter just then. Jack's hands searched the surrounding area without his eyes being visually aware of where he was. There was a table of sorts beside him, and the familiar brown holster and backpack were underneath his staff. Instinctively, Jack grabbed his staff and hugged it close to his body. He couldn't get to sleep most nights unless he had it within arm's reach or actually in his arms. It was a security measure he integrated early on during his three lonely years. There was no one to trust but his own instincts.

Except now.

Aster and Toothiana─ well, mostly Toothiana─ seemed genuinely concerned about him, and they were going to take him with them to their... their "camp." Jack suddenly wasn't sure if that sounded as settling now as it did at first. They could have been cannibals, for all he knew. But would that have made them much different from those things out there? Jack had assumed that they probably were different, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason why. The decision to kill in order to eat had never been a debate in human history (vegetarians and vegans aside), but it always stopped before the discussion of eating humans was breached. But as Jack thought about it, cannibalism seemed saner compared to becoming one of those things. Was it because one could still be themselves if they chose to eat their brethren? Was the possibility of losing one's consciousness truly more horrific than killing and eating another of one's kind? The thoughts were too much for Jack presently, so he groaned and rolled over.

In the process, his staff knocked something to the floor. Several thuds hit soft earth, and Jack's eyes opened. He tried to sit up, but was brought back onto his back from the uncomfortable feeling in his abdomen. Looking down, he saw that his shirt was gone, his bare, pale skin glowing in the near perfect darkness. His midsection was covered in one large mass of purples and blues and Jack groaned. That girl had a seriously strong kick. Glancing down the rest of his body, Jack realized that his left leg was constricted for movement. Pulling off a blanket that had covered his bottom half, he was relieved to see that he still had his pants on. That made the situation a little less weird. But as he got to his foot, Jack saw that there was some sort of cloth wrapped around a small wooden board stuck to his ankle. It looked like a botched splint, but it appeared like it would work just fine.

Jack was furious, however. Not at anyone, really, but at his own ineptitude. He wasn't certain that he could have avoided the injury, but he wanted to blame something so badly. With his ankle in this condition, Jack was scared he'd never make it out alive. Any injury in this changed world inevitably spelled disaster. With the unnerving panic rising, Jack wondered what happened to Toothiana and Aster. Even if they were wary, Jack thought they were better than being alone.

Anything was better than being alone.

Jack rolled over again, uncomfortable with the situation and position he was in. He was facing the table again, and saw that his backpack had fallen open. Remembering that he had woken up because of some strange thud, he slowly turned his body. Jack's chest hung over the side of the bed and he had a hard time keeping his head upright. Focusing his eyes in the dark, he made out several small round objects, reddish according to whatever light could reach this room. Jack let a hand out and grabbed one. He brought it up to his face and sniffed.

It was an apple.

A/N: Next chapter, you'll meet my versions of North and Sandy! I promise the updating will come more regularly.

But for right now, I need to get back to studying!