December 25th, 2016

Bitter wind whipped through the streets, nipping at exposed flesh, making breath steam in the air and eyes tear. The citizens of Philadelphia were happy to brave the cold though, it was our first official Christmas as a Republic, and I had made the executive decision that the city and the Republic needed a party.

As such a feast had been under preparation since my return. Potatoes were peeled, boiled, and mashed while game was hunted and skinned, seasoned and roasted. Cans of corn and green beans were liberally seasoned until they tasted like they were fresh from the ground. Bread was baked round the clock and the air in the city began to smell like heaven.

We had ten tables laden with food, and as the line stretched for blocks, thousands of hungry mouths eager for food, I began to worry we still didn't have enough. I shoveled venison and beets onto a plate and sent it down the line, smiling at the young woman and her little girl in front of me, eagerly waiting for food.

"Merry Christmas, what's your name?" I asked, the question on repeat. I had already met almost two hundred people, and I had forgotten most.

She gave me a tired smile and hitched the little girl higher on her hip, "Jennifer Mills ma'am," she replied softly, eyeing the plate as it worked its way down the table to be filled before being handed to her.

"What do you do here in the city?" I asked politely. Most people had duties assigned to them, but with a young child she most likely helped with gardening or teaching.

Her face wrinkled in a frown, "I-I don't have a job ma'am," she murmured, flushing, looking away, ashamed.

The plate returned to my hands and I held onto it for a moment, stunned. If she didn't have a job, she couldn't earn food. She and her child would be begging for food, or starving. "What did you do before the power went out?" I asked softly, stepping around the table to hand her the plate, smiling at the little, laughing softly when she hid her face in her mother's neck.

Jennifer held onto the plate like it was a lifeline and bit her lip, "I worked at the IRS. I was an auditor," she explained.

My brows shot up in surprise and a short burst of laughter bubbled out of my chest before I could suppress it. Her face wrinkled in confusion and I lay a hand on her arm, "Jennifer, would you like a job?" I offered, smiling wryly at my own genius.

"I-I don't…what kind of job?" she asked hesitantly.

I grinned, "Running our treasury. I'm handling it now, but I don't have the kind of knowledge you do on taxes and audits, and I could use someone who understands how a government works in that aspect. Do you think that's something you could do?" I asked, watching as her face slowly lit up.

"Y-you're serious?" she whispered, her eyes searching mine, as though she thought this was some sort of trick.

I nodded, "President Monroe and Commanding General Matheson will want to meet you when they return from the Trenton front, but I'm sure they'll have no objections," I murmured, knowing that they wouldn't if I sent them a letter beforehand.

Jennifer's eyes filled and she swallowed hard, "I-yes! Thank you!" she exclaimed softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand firmly, blinking rapidly as her eyes overflowed.

I squeezed her hand back and nodded, "I'll see you after the new year. Report here to Independence Hall and let the guards know that you're here to see me," I paused as I realized she might not know my name, my lips curling in amusement at my own arrogance.

"Tell them you're here to see Rebecca Flynn, the Ambassador and Policy Advisor for the Republic and they'll let you in," I finished, smiling warmly at her.

Jennifer nodded eagerly, "Thank you so much Ms. Flynn, I truly appreciate it," she murmured, her eyes bright with hope. I nodded and watched as she walked away, her shoulders straighter than they had been just a few minutes earlier.

It was amazing what a little hope could do for a person.

Sighing, I turned back to the never ending line of hungry citizens and continued smiling, handing out food and getting to know my people. This was how you built a republic. Not with blood, but with trust and love.

I kept telling myself that as I prayed silently for the two men who had my heart for very different reasons, and were so far from home on Christmas, fighting a bloody war to secure our Republic.

As the last person filled their plate, I sighed and stepped away from the table, smiling at the volunteers who would clean up the mess.

"Thank you all for sacrificing your Christmas day. I appreciate everything you've given up today to serve your fellow citizens and your Republic. I want you all to know how much it means to me to have spent my Christmas with you," I said, raising my voice so those who stood towards the back could hear.

After a brief round of applause and a few hugs I was able to walk back to Independence Hall and its relative warmth, shivering as I tugged off my gloves. Walking down the hall I paused and reminded myself to turn left instead of right, shaking my head softly, smiling.

Bass had given me his spare key months ago for my birthday, but with things spiraling out of control with the Plains Nation, the cholera outbreak, and now the Trenton Campaign, we hadn't had much time for setting a move in date.

Smirking, I unlocked what was now our suite of rooms and shut the door behind me. Upon my arrival home I had realized that it would be one problem after another, keeping me or Bass busy and away from home, keeping us apart, and if I wanted us to be together, I was going to have to move quickly.

Luckily for me, we lived in a post apocalypse world and my worldly possessions could be fit in two duffle bags and a smaller leather satchel held my work documents that I had in my room at the time. Carrying them to my new quarters had taken five minutes, and dragging the writing desk I was fond of had taken another five.

A few militia members had raised brows or laughed behind their hands, but so far, nothing had been said about the change. Since I was essentially the head of the government and their boss, it wasn't a particularly smart idea to get on my bad side, and they were at least smart enough to understand that.

Kicking off my boots, I nudged them into the corner and hung my jacket on the stand that had already been in the room. It had surprised me to see how neat Bass kept his room, but when I remembered his Marine training, it clicked.

Tugging the large fleece blanket from the foot of the bed, I sat down at my desk and began writing a letter to Bass and Miles jointly, letting them know of my hiring of Jennifer, and the feast, among other details about the Republic they would need to know.

Dear Miles and Bass,

I hope this finds you both alive and well, because if something has happened to either one of you I will break your fucking necks. I hope that you get to have some sort of Christmas where you are, though I know that's unlikely. Here in the Capitol we had a feast prepared for all the citizens and I, along with the militia, handed it out to all the citizens. The line wrapped around four city blocks there were so many people! It took all day to prepare and hand out, but the best part was how happy we made people.

They were filled with hope that our Republic will remain strong, and so many passed along their words of encouragement for you both and our brave militia at the front with you. Oh! I have hired a Treasurer! She worked for the IRS in the old government and is intelligent and capable; her name is Jennifer Mills, and she will be joining us after the New Years. I expect you both to treat her with respect, and to go to her with issues surrounding finance and expenses. I no longer will hold the keys to the money when you return!

Lastly, I have troubling news. During my travels to different military installations, I spoke with all the leaders and they all told me the same thing; we are running out of ammunition. I don't know if more can be made, but we need to look into this immediately. We will discuss this as soon as you return.

My love to you both!

Becca

Sealing the envelope I stood and shed my blanket, carrying the letter with me as I walked down the halls to the messenger offices, searching for someone to carry the letter to Trenton. The offices were dark; no candles were burning at this hour it seemed.

"Ma'am? Did you need something?" a soft feminine voice asked.

I turned back and saw a strawberry blonde head poking out of one of the offices near the end of the hallway and smiled hesitantly, "I do, but I don't think I know you, do I?" I asked.

The young woman shook her head and stepped out into the hallway, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, "We haven't met yet. I just started before y'all got back. I moved here a few weeks ago," she replied, smiling shyly at me as she held her hand out, "I'm Dee, uh, Deanne, but you can call me Dee," she offered, her porcelain cheeks flushing.

I grinned, "Nice to meet you Dee, where you from?" I asked, noting her southern drawl.

"Tennessee ma'am," she replied promptly.

"Huh, I've never been," I murmured, smiling faintly. I tilted my head to study her, my smile fading, "Why didn't you go to the Georgia Federation?" I asked, suspicion making my eyes narrow.

Her mouth narrowed and she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, "My family an I tried ma'am, but my sister was sick," she murmured, casting her eyes aside. "She had malaria, an they said we couldn' enter the city until she got better…" she hesitated for so long I wasn't sure she was going to continue, when finally she shook her head, "my whole family died from it ma'am, an my daddy made me leave before I got sick an come here."

I stared at her as a sick sensation rumbled through my stomach, "W-when did this happen?" I asked, clearing my throat, "Where did this happen? Was it just your family?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice from being too sharp.

Her gaze lifted up to mine at my tone and her eyes focused, the grief clearing as she realized she had said something important. "I-uh…No, it was our whole town. This August," she murmured, shaking her head.

My hand shot out and gripped her arm, "Can you show me on a map?" I demanded, fear and excitement running through me. Her eyes widened and she nodded nervously.

"W-what about your message ma'am?" she asked, eyes darting down to the letter I still gripped in my free hand.

Shit…right…

I released her arm and stepped back, clearing my throat, "Is there another messenger available?" I asked, glancing around at the dark offices.

She shook her head, "Not here, but I know of a few that are in their homes. I can take it to them if you still want to know where my town was?" she replied questioningly.

I stared at her for minute, tossing my options back and forth in my head. "No, I think it's better if you carry it for me Dee," I murmured. I waved a hand, "I have maps in my office, come with me," I said sharply, turning on my heel and walking quickly towards my office, just a few hallways away.

I heard her walking quickly behind me and felt her shoulder bump mine when I stopped abruptly at my office door to unlock it. Her stuttered apology made me smirk; she was probably around my age, and here she was apologizing and calling me "ma'am", like I was somebody important.

As I stepped into my office and looked at all the paperwork that was for running the Republic and the letter in my hand to the two most important men within that Republic, it hit me; I was someone important.

I was a leader.

Shaking my head I bent over my desk and carefully moved papers out of the way, pulling my maps out of the drawer and laid them on the surface, weighing them down. "Show me where on here and I'll mark it," I murmured to Dee.

She stood awkwardly to the side for a moment before coming over and peering at the map in the candlelight, searching for her town on the map of the east coast. A few minutes later she made a soft triumphant noise and her finger landed on the surface of the paper.

"East Ridge, Tennessee," I murmured, circling it with pencil, frowning softly. "That's as close to the Georgia border as you can get, huh?" I asked, glancing up at her.

"Just about," she murmured, nodding.

"How many people were there in your town in August?" I asked, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper to write a new letter to Bass and Miles. This was something they needed to know. Another disease that cropped up out of nowhere? Fucking suspicious.

Dee thought for a moment and shrugged a shoulder, "I think 500?" she shook her head, "But people came an went, it was a migratory kind of place," she explained.

I nodded, writing down her figures and the details of the town quickly. "And how many people got sick and died?" I asked softly, glancing up at her.

Her fingers dug into her arms as she stared down at the map, "350," she whispered.

The number stunned me. That was 70% of the population. I wrote the information down quickly and shook my head, "I'm sorry Dee, really. We had an outbreak of cholera here, and it killed close to 500 people. We have almost 3,000 people in the city and the surrounding area, so our population didn't take the same kind of devastating hit that yours did, but each loss is terrible, just the same," I murmured.

When I looked up her brow was furrowed and she was looking at me angrily, "I don't understand how you can talk about it so calmly, as though it doesn't bother you," she remonstrated.

Slowly I lowered my pen and leaned my hip against the desk, studying her face. "I'm calm because I lived through watching hundreds of my people die horribly. I lost friends, good people, and I almost lost someone very dear to me because of the outbreak," I replied sharply, biting back Bass's name.

She didn't need to know Bass and my relationship; she just needed to know I gave a shit. I frowned deeply at her, "Trust me Dee, I care deeply about the people of the Republic, and about the people that occupy what used to be America. I want everyone to survive. I want to figure out why two separate but deadly outbreaks of diseases that are practically non-existent in North America suddenly crop up at the exact same time and kill hundreds."

I shook my head, "Don't accuse me of not caring Dee, because that's all I do. I spend every waking moment of my days trying to keep this Republic going, to keep you and everyone else in it alive, safe, and protected."

I turned away and wrote more information to Bass and Miles, my words scrawling in my frustration. Dee remained silent beside me as I wrote, neither of us willing to break the silence. As I leaned back from writing and studied the map again she cleared her throat, "I-uh, heard another outbreak happened here," she pointed to another location on the map, Springfield, Missouri.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was Plains Nation territory, and that meant that one of the tribes had been caught in an outbreak after we left. "How many dead?" I asked shortly, turning back to my letter to transcribe what she had told me already.

"I'm not sure, people passing through town told us it was the Spanish flu, and that over 200 people had died, but then other people said it was just the regular flu and only 50 people had died."

I nodded and wrote down both facts. Either way, something odd was happening. Quickly folding up the note I sealed and stamped it before turning and handing her both envelopes, "I need you to carry these to Trenton. If you feel you cannot ride into the front lines of combat, tell me now and I'll dispatch a militia member instead," I murmured seriously.

Dee stared down at the letters, her lips thinning as she contemplated my request. After a moment she nodded, "I can do that ma'am. I'm not great with guns, but I'm fast with knives and I use camouflage to sneak around when I can't get where I need to directly," she informed me.

"Perfect. Pack warmly and take plenty of rations with you," I advised, smiling faintly as she took the letters from me, backing away slowly. Dee nodded and turned out the door, not looking back.

Turning my attention back to the map I studied it for a moment, looking at the three outbreak spots I had circled. Could there be more? And why had they all happened at the same time? Shaking my head I rolled up the map and locked it back in the drawer.

I wasn't going to figure it out tonight, but I did still need a hot bath and something to eat. Locking the office door behind me, I strode down the halls to the kitchens, knowing that even at this hour I would be able to find something to eat.

Leaning against the counter I hummed happily, enjoying a sandwich of cold roast venison, stuffing, gravy, cheese that had been made fresh in town, and wished the whole time that Bass and Miles were there to enjoy this with me.

After enjoying a hot bath I lay in bed, curling Bass's pillow against my chest, inhaling his scent, an ache in my chest. It wasn't even our first Christmas as a trio, but it was as a couple, and we weren't together.

Sighing, I sniffled back the tears that had managed to worm their way into my eyes and shook my head at my melancholia, wherever Bass and Miles were on the Trenton front, they certainly wouldn't be thinking about Christmas, they would be trying to survive.

Exhaling slowly I rolled onto my back and watched the meager light from the moon play across the ceiling, my fingers drumming in time to my heartbeat on the pillow beside me.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night," I whispered joylessly.

December 27th, 2016

"Dee"

"Dee"

"DEE!"

The flap of the tent flew open as the messenger stumbled in, her chest heaving as she looked around, cheeks flushed from running through the cold air.

"Yes President Monroe suh?" she squeaked, her eyes darting over me and then Miles, her flush deepening. A smirk curled my lips at the look on her face as she turned her gaze hastily from Miles and to me, her hands tucked behind her back, unknowingly pushing her chest forward.

I saw Miles turn to look over at the young woman, his eyes flashing with interest and my smirk grew. "I need you to compose another message for B-the Ambassador, can you do that?" I asked sharply, taking a sip of the hot, bitter drink that passed for coffee here on the front.

She nodded and stepped forward eagerly, pulling her writing kit out from behind her back. As she stepped toward the fire near our table she sighed softly and smiled faintly, "Y'all got a nice set up here," she murmured, her gunmetal blue eyes flickering over the interior of the tent before resting briefly on Miles's face once more.

I nodded slowly, "For a shit hole in the middle of a war, it isn't so bad," I scoffed lightly. A flush spread over her cheeks and her fingers dropped the pens she had been pulling out of her kit, sending them scattering to the floor.

"Shit!" she whispered, crouching to retrieve them. To my amusement Miles was at her side a moment later, helping her pick them up, a hesitant smile on his face as he handed her the pens. The girl blushed deeper, if that was possible, clutching them to her chest as she stood straight.

"Why thank ya General Matheson suh, you're too kind," she murmured sweetly, her smile like a ray of sunshine.

I bit back a bark of laughter at the flush that spread up Miles's throat and the awkward smile he gave her in return. "Uh, yea, no problem," he muttered.

Leaning forward I smirked and shook my head, "Right, if you're ready?" I asked, lifting a brow at the young woman. She cleared her throat and nodded, seating herself and looking intently down at the paper.

"Inform the Ambassador that the campaign is nearly finished. The reinforcements have turned the tide for the Republic, and her warning that we are running low on munitions is well timed. We here at the front have noticed this fact, and are doing everything we can to preserve our bullets. Inform her that we have been looking into munitions factories and how we can create more weapons and bullets, but right now, we cannot explore those options while fighting this battle. Lastly, tell her that we expect to be home by New Years, and would very much like to have a celebration for our victory, if the treasury feels we can manage it."

I paused and waited as she wrote, translating my words into something written in shorthand and code, so that if the message fell into the wrong hands, they wouldn't know what was happening here or within the Republic.

I glanced at Miles, "You got anything man?" I murmured.

He shook his head but looked thoughtful. We had been on the front lines when the young messenger had arrived, and only in the last few hours had been able to sit and talk with her regarding the contents of the letters Becca had sent.

As Dee finished writing Miles crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat, "Dee? Is there anything else you can tell us about the outbreaks that you didn't tell Ambassador Flynn?" he prompted.

I studied the young woman as she set aside her pen and looked up at him, her lips parting thoughtfully, her forefinger tapping against her cheek as she pondered the question. Objectively I supposed she was beautiful; with rosy cheeks and bright eyes, curly strawberry hair and a curvy figure…sure, I could see what drew Miles's attention.

But with my thoughts and heart so drawn to one other woman, it was hard to see any other woman.

"I don' think so. People move around so transiently now, it's hard to know where they came from or how these diseases showed up," she murmured, regret in face as she glanced between us, "I'm sorry I can't think of more," she offered.

Miles shook his head, "That's ok. If you do, please let Ambassador Flynn or one of us know," he ordered her gently.

I smirked, "Let Miles know. He and Becca run the Republic, I just sit around and look pretty," I joked with her.

To my surprise she laughed, "I doubt that President Monroe suh. Y'all are both very important, with tha weight of a Republic on ya shoulders," she murmured. She stood and gathered her letter and pens up, storing them in her kit, "If ya need anything, I'll be in tha tent for tha messengers," she murmured, her eyes flickering over to Miles, the look she gave him unmistakable.

I nodded and bit back another laugh, "Thank you Dee," I murmured, trying to hide my amusement. When she had disappeared from the tent I rounded on Miles, choking on my laughter, "Wooh! Brother! That is one hot little lady making eyes at you," I teased.

Miles scowled and flipped me off, shaking his head, "Shut up Bass," he muttered, shuffling through the papers on the table restlessly.

Laughing good naturedly I slapped him gently on the back, smiling softly, "Come on man, you can't exactly deny you both were getting an eyeful of each other. If you like her, go see her," I encouraged.

Miles frowned, "In the middle of a war?" he demanded, tossing the papers down onto the table.

I nodded, "This isn't boxing man; get some of that tension out of your system. Go see her and talk to her at least. Maybe you can get to know her more when you get back to the city," I prodded.

Miles stared down at the table for a long moment and then nodded slowly, "I'll just talk to her for a few minutes," he murmured, avoiding my smirking gaze as he stepped away, brushing through the tent opening without a look back.

"Go get 'em tiger," I murmured, shaking my head ruefully. Dropping into the chair Dee had occupied I pulled the pile of papers Miles had been shuffling and began reviewing them. In addition to the letters Becca had sent, she had included reviews of the military installations within the Republic—their crop growth, health of citizens, machinery and weaponry on site, and personnel guarding the bases.

Smiling faintly I propped my feet up and began reading, sipping the shitty coffee and missing my girl.

December 31st, 2016

Gunfire rained down in a fiery hail, dropping men like flies, their screams of agony joining the cacophony of chaos. Bass and I crouched behind a pile of rubble, occasionally popping our heads over for a better look at the situation before ducking back down as a sniper pounded rounds at us.

"Well this is bad," Bass shouted gleefully, firing at a group of men to my left, cursing when his clip clicked—empty.

"Quit fucking wasting ammo!" I shouted back, peering over the edge of a brick, trying to see where the sniper was that had us pinned down. Dusk was falling and the last thing I wanted was to be trapped here after dark with a sniper trying to kill us.

"Cover me," Bass panted as he curled his legs under him, pointing his body to the left, aiming to the group of men he had just killed.

"What the—" I bit back a curse and lay down suppression fire as he darted across the nearly ten feet of open ground to another spot of fallen rubble where the men's bodies lay. I watched as he ducked down, hidden from the sniper's rounds and began gathering up guns and extra clips of ammo.

Peering over at me he nodded and a breath later was running back, firing his pistol at the general direction of the sniper, slamming back into the tight space we were occupying with a laugh fueled by adrenaline.

"You're a fucking moron," I snapped, shaking my head.

"Yeah, yeah," Bass laughed, "you can thank me later," he suggested, grinning widely as he shoved an M4 into my lap.

Rolling my eyes I tucked the weapon into the nook beside me and hunkered down; it was going to be a long battle.

Our militia men were slowly pushing forwards, overwhelming the rebels, but that damn sniper still hadn't been taken out. Night had fallen and the fighting had slowed, allowing Bass and I to retreat a few hundred yards behind a ruined building before another sniper had located us and pinned us down again.

Dawn was quickly approaching; the sky was a burning pink, but the air was frozen, our breath steamed in the bitter cold as we huddled together, trying to preserve body heat.

"W-what happens in the f-foxhole s-stays in the f-foxhole, huh?" Bass joked, nudging my shoulder with his, waggling his brows suggestively, his lips curling up in a faint smile. I cracked a smile in return and laughed softly, burying my face in the crook of my elbow as it turned into a hacking cough.

"D-doesn't s-sound g-good man," Bass whispered, and I could hear the concern in his voice.

I peered over at him as my coughing subsided and shook my head, "Just a c-cold," I whispered back, my throat raw. Truth be told I had a fever and my head ached, but we couldn't exactly call a time out so I could sleep and take some Nyquil.

"M-maybe D-dee can t-take care of y-you. G-give you a h-hot bath," Bass whispered, a low laugh rumbling in his chest as I scowled at him.

"S-shut up. Y-you're going t-to give a-away our p-position," I hissed.

Bass rolled his eyes, we both knew that the rebels knew where we were, they just didn't want to throw more men into the gristmill to come and kill us. Not yet anyway.

As the day grew longer the air warmed slowly and our chills and shivers ceased, allowing us to crawl over the rubble and scout for the snipers. I peered up at the ruined buildings, searching for any sign of movement and paused, gazing at the open window on the third floor of an apartment building to our left.

I nudged Bass and pointed my chin, "There. Sniper."

He turned slowly and watched the window, his exhalation of excitement letting me know that he had seen the barrel of the rifle peeking out of the window just as I had.

"I can get up there," he whispered glancing over his shoulder at me, eyes gleaming with eagerness.

"No. I'll lay down fire and you retreat and send a group of men here to take him out," I ordered firmly.

Bass's brow furrowed and he shook his head, "And you do what in the meantime? Die?" He shook his head vehemently, "No, no way I'm leaving you here by yourself," he refuted.

"Goddamn it Bass!" I hissed, "One of us has to go! You're the President, it needs to be you! Becca will kill me if something happens to you!"

Bass hesitated at that and then shook his head, "Nice try, but no. Come up with a better plan," he murmured, turning away.

The sound of boots scraping over dirt and rock got both of our attention quickly and we adjusted our positions, searching for the approaching targets. I spotted them first, bodies in blue, and after a moment realized they were our men and women.

Putting my fingers in my mouth I whistled three times, two high pitched blasts, then one low. It was an agreed upon signal that all militia members were trained in the meaning and use of. Friendly uniform, don't fire.

A moment later the whistle blasts were repeated back, and I sighed in relief. Whoever was out there was indeed our militia. The blast of gunfire broke the quiet of the morning and garbled shouts reached us as someone tried to keep order.

"—back!"

"—Sniper!"

"—together!"

Bass shook his head, scowling, "They're going to retreat," he growled. I nodded, whoever was leading this group didn't know who we were, and they weren't going to come barreling into this open area that was essentially a dead end trap to rescue us.

The sound of gunfire grew louder and closer, the shocks of it ringing in my ears. Bass and I exchanged a look, were they coming for us? Gripping my pistol tighter I prepared for an assault, ready for anything really.

A young black man ran down the alley, followed by three other militia members, each of them carrying improvised shields, flinching as bullets bit into the wood or metal around them. They fired at the snipers and waved at us, "Let's go!" the young man yelled.

I nodded and slung the M4 over my shoulder, waiting for Bass to gather his weapons before we crouched and followed them, heading for a parallel street. Bullets whizzed by so closely I could feel the breeze they created and my gut clenched.

The street was 50 feet ahead when something slammed into my shoulder, knocking me to the ground.

"Miles!"

Bass's terrified shout came from a few feet away and a moment later he was by my side, his wide blue eyes searching my face as his hands gripped my arm sending an unexpected shock of fiery pain through it.

Groaning I rolled away from his touch and bit my cheek, realizing I had been shot. Bullets tore into the ground around us, puffs of dirt being thrown up into our faces and obscuring our sight.

"We gotta go!" shouted the young black man who had run to our defense.

"He's shot!" Bass yelled back.

"It doesn't matter! We'll be dead if we don't move!" the kid screamed back, firing at the window where the sniper was firing from.

Bass growled in frustration and leaned down to me, grabbing my uninjured arm and pulled me up, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Time to go buddy," he muttered, keeping a tight grip on both me and his gun.

The group of militia surrounding us urged us forward, firing at the snipers and the rebels who had emerged from the shadows, killing as many as they could before we retreated down the side street, the sound of gunfire seeming to fade.

My shoulder pounded with every step we took and my eyes struggled to stay open, the throbbing in my head growing.

"Come on man, stay awake," Bass ordered, squeezing my waist, his voice urgent.

"Mmmhmm," I mumbled, eyes drooping.

We turned a corner and I heard Bass swear as I slumped against him, my body flushing hot and cold with each heartbeat.

Darkness swam up to greet me and I welcomed it with open arms.

AN: I really hope you guys like this chapter since we get to see a little of Bass and Miles. I haven't really done that before with both of them, and I like the way it turned out! I hope the southern accent with Dee was okay...I'm not southern, but I took a swing at it! Anyway, this and the next episode are the "christmas/new years" chapters, so Happy Holidays (early) from me! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and following! Keep it up and my love to you all!