I look back at the man. He is wearing light body armour and a dingy looking black t-shirt with thick jeans. He looks me in the eyes and asks quietly, "Did you learn anything useful while scouting?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. "The heards are getting worse. We both know that, Miles. Last time they snagged one of us. This time dozens of them followed me back!"

"Easy." He chides, as he puts a hand on my shoulder."Look just... go rest okay. You've been gone for three days. You're just on edge. Everyone is."

"...Fine. But you know that we cant just delay talking about this. It's going to happen. Sooner or later. We need to have a gameplan." I say in a hushed tone. I walk past him towards the center of the tower. I stop when I see the familiar iron steps that lead higher into base. The small amount of tension I hold releases as I take the first step. 'Miles is right. I just need to chill out a bit.', I think as I trudge up a flight of stairs, and soon hear a ragged voice call out my nickname.

"Yo, Bell! Where's my heartfelt thank you? I'm mean its the least you could do since I saved your ass.", yells a gruff, muscular looking man in a dirt covered gray tank-top. He sits alone at a round table, a sniper laying at his side and a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Oh, shove it where the sun don't shine Reggie." I say with sarcasm as I roll my eyes. "How the Hell did you get the boss man to let you take aim, let alone shoot the damn gun? I ask as I stride over to him. He snags another chair and pulls it across from him.

"Haha! Well, I'ma give you the short version and just say that pointing a gun at someone's head can solve MANY problems.", he snorts. I give him a stern look as I sit down.

"Reg, you can't just do stupid shit like that. You'll get kicked out without a second thought!"

"Ah, dont worry about it sister. I only threatened to shoot the assistant manager of this whole operation. That little fucker was sayin that the group was more important than you." Reggie growls as he takes a swig from his bottle. "But we both know that ain't true." He says as he looks down at his drink, then back at me. "Want some?" he offers.

"I'm 16, Reggie. That stuff'll kill just about all the brain cells in my head."

"Hah! Whats left of 'em anyway.", he smirks.

"Yes, well, at least I would still be smarter than than you. And you're about 20 older than me, Grandpa."

"Whatever Bell." he says with a faint grin.

"Haha. See ya later Reg."

"See ya. And if you see Mr. Assistant Manager, tell him to fuck off for me." he calls as I head back to the staircase.

"You got it!" I yell back. I smile and walk up another two flights, passing other rugged survivors. I finally stop when I see the last platform in the tower. It is filled with many small cots and matresses. I scan the room, looking for mine. Soon I spot my thin black sheets, and ugly little pad of cloth on the floor. I slowly walk towards it, shoulders slumped. Wincing I settle down on it, feeling my muscles loosen. I stare up at the "ceiling", which was pretty much just a set of several pieces of metal welded together. Above that, you could see the actual container where water used to be stored. That was the leader's head quarters. Only he was allowed in there. I sigh, and close my eyes. I think back to a time when the world seemed perfect. There were no dead people crawling around. Everyone was alive. Mom and Dad were alive...