Two months following the events of "First Words"

Joey sighed as his walkie-talkie chimed again.

"Alright, Joey," Joey's father said through the walkie-talkie. "It's your first day on a Wall shift by yourself. What's the pass code for newcomers?"

"Five-four-nine-two-three-nine-zero-two," Joey answered in monotone pulling at his blue jacket and tapping his blue jeans impatiently. He kept his eyes on the road leading to Jackson. "We went over this earlier, dad."

"What else did we go over?" his father pressed.

"There's no electric fence on this side of Jackson. So, I have to be extra careful. Watch my surroundings, don't go over the Wall, call for backup if somebody show's up," Joey said with a yawn. "If anybody does come in, double-check them for bites and get their name and reason for being out there in the first place."

"Good job," his father replied. "Only next time, cut the attitude. And if a girl starts talking to you, be nice."

Joey rolled his eyes and spoke quietly into the walkie-talkie. "I'm pretty sure that there's only one girl in Jackson who even tolerates me. So, that shouldn't be a problem."

Joey's mother joined in the conversation, her voice coming through Joey's walkie-talkie. "Also, don't forget that all these radios are connected. So, don't say anything inappropriate or embarrassing. By the way, Heather's here helping me make the lunches. She says 'hi'."

Joey placed his face in his hand and shook his head.

The day passed with nothing new from any of the days previous. Joey gave his bi-hourly reports and continued to watch the horizon. There was frequent talk coming through the walkie-talkies from the west end of town where they had decided to expand Jackson to the next group of houses a few blocks away.

Joey kept the gun that his father had given him on the RV next to him.

As the afternoon sun reached the highest point in the sky, Joey heard a loud BANG.

Joey was on his feet with the gun in hand in moments. He heard the sound again. That's not a gun…

A moment later, a large, muddy truck with an open back and a cab with room for two rolled out of the trees a few hundred feet away.

Joey called for backup.

The truck backfired one last time before turning and starting to slow down as it moved toward the Wall, finally coming to a stop.

Joey was joined by the two men with guns a few seconds later. Joey gripped his gun tighter.

A younger man with torn blue jeans and a dirty blue shirt covered in dried blood stepped out of the truck with a gun in hand. The younger man also had a variety of knives in his belt.

"Drop it!" Joey shouted.

The young man lowered the weapon to his side, holding one hand in the air.

"I said drop the gun!" Joey said loudly.

"I can't," the young man said, expelling bravery beyond his youth as he crossed in front of the truck. He made a point of keeping the gun pointed at the ground but held it just above his stomach. "Not until I know it's safe."

"It's safe," Joey assured him. "It'll be safer if you drop the gun."

The younger man glanced into the passenger seat and shook his head. He looked at Joey. "Not until you do."

"I can't take that risk," Joey argued, remembering his training. He thought for a moment. "I'll tell my buddies to back off. It'll be you and me until we can figure out what happens next."

The younger man looked at the truck for a moment and nodded. He motioned to the two men next to Joey. "Get rid of them first."

"I got this," Joey said to the men next to him.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

The two men dismounted the RV, leaving their guns with Joey.

"Are you lost?" Joey asked the young man, keeping his gun leveled.

"I hope not," the young man replied.

"What are you looking for?"

"We're looking for Jackson County," the young man answered.

"You found it," Joey replied. He slowly lowered the gun, then registered what the young man had said. He leveled his weapon again. "Who's we?"

The young man gripped his weapon in both hands. "I need to know we're safe."

"Lower the gun and we can let you in," Joey tried to say diplomatically.

"I can't," the young man firmly.

Joey shook his head, knowing the argument wasn't getting anywhere. "Alright," he said. He turned the rifle sideways and showed it to the younger man. "This is one-shot rifle. I've already sent my friends away. If there are more than one of you I'm not going to be much of a threat."

"Eject the bullet," the young man said.

Joey reached into his pocket and grabbed out the few spare rounds he had, casting them to the ground beyond the RV. "That's the best you're going to get."

The young man glanced into the truck again and slowly nodded, opening the door.

A young girl, about six-years-old crawled out. She had blond hair, wore dark colored, ripped jeans that were at least a size too small, and a purple shirt.

Joey's eyes widened and he lowered the gun, looking behind him. "Get the ladder."

"Are you sure?" someone asked.

"Do it," Joey ordered.

Somebody handed Joey the ladder a few seconds later and he set it on the outside of the RV. The young man brought the girl up to it and knelt, whispering in her ear. He allowed her to wrap her arms around him as he grabbed Joey's discarded bullets. He ascended the ladder with the girl on his back.

Joey took the bullets that the young man offered and extended his hand.

The young man hesitantly took the hand, allowing Joey to help him and the girl onto the RV.

The little girl remined silent and looked like she was trying to put on a brave face.

The young man tensed up as a few men below gripped their weapons.

"Set them down," Joey said with as much authority as possible.

The men slowly placed their weapons on the ground.

Joey turned to the young man. "It's cool."

The young man allowed the girl to slide off him. He gripped her hand tightly and kept her behind him.

"So, what happens now?" the young man asked.

"Well…" Joey said, trying to remember what his mother and father had taught him. His walkie-talkie chimed. Joey held up a finger. "One moment."

"What's going on?" his father asked through the walkie-talkie.

"We've got two survivors," Joey said, his eyes lingering on the girl. "They're young. Younger than me."

"Can you handle it?" his father asked.

"I got it," Joey assured him.

"I'll be there in about twenty minutes," his father said.

"I'll get them ready," Joey said. He turned to the young man. "I'm going to need you to lift up your sleeves and pant legs. I have to check for bites."

The young man hesitated but did as Joey asked. He knelt and did the same with the young girl, who was still silent.

Joey held up a hand, letting it hover an inch from the young man's chest. "May I?"

The young man nodded.

Joey began pressing firmly on the young man's chest, probing for sudden reactions to pain that could hint at a bite or wound. Joey backed up.

The young man turned and did the same to his sister, speaking quietly to her.

"That's good," Joey said. He looked at the little girl. She now looked curious but continued to grip the young man's hand tightly. Joey took a few steps back and knelt to her level. "You're safe here."

"Now what?" the young man asked, placing his other hand on the young girl's shoulder.

"Orientation," Joey answered. "Could you please lower the gun?"

The young man smiled sheepishly and placed the weapon in his belt.

Joey looked over the young man's shoulder to make sure someone had taken his place on the Wall.

Heather walked up next to Joey, wearing her blue jeans and white t-shirt. She was also holding a bag of sandwiches.

Joey turned and nodded his greeting before returning his gaze to the young man and the little girl.

"What does orientation involve," the young man asked cautiously.

"It's pretty simple," Joey assured him. "I've just got to ask you a few questions."

"Such as?" the young man asked as Heather handed him a sandwich from her bag.

"How about a name?" Joey said. "Mine's Joey by the way."

"Tim," the young man said. He handed the little girl the sandwich. "This is my sister, Clarisse."

"That was easy," Joey said, almost to himself. "So… how old are you."

"Old enough," Tim answered. He helped his sister open the bag and handed her the sandwich. "Age hasn't meant much the last few months."

"Fair answer," Joey said. He sighed. "This 'greeting newcomers into Jackson' is kinda a first for me. So, I'm sorry if this feels weird."

"I'm just happy we've finally gotten here," Tim replied, releasing Clarisse's hand in Jackson for the first time.

"Where are you from?" Joey asked, grabbing a notepad and a pencil from his back pocket.

…

Heather moved closer to the little girl as Joey started asking Tim various questions.

A small scrape on Clarisse's knee caught Heather's eye.

The young girl stopped chewing with a mouthful of sandwich and eyed Heather cautiously.

Heather knelt and held out her hand. "I'm Heather."

Clarisse glanced at her brother.

Tim looked at Joey.

"She's good," Joey assured him.

Tim nodded at Clarisse.

"I'm Clarisse," the girl said after she swallowed the food. She held out her hand.

Heather gently shook it. "Does your knee hurt?" she asked.

"A little," Clarisse answered after a few seconds. She lowered her voice. "I don't want to tell Timmy."

"Can I take a look?" Heather asked. "My mom used to be a doctor in the… a long time ago."

"Since when?" Joey asked, ceasing his conversation with Tim.

"Since I finally decided to tell someone," Heather said. She winked at Clarisse, earning a smile.

Joey shook his head and continued his questions.

Clarisse slowly raised her pant leg. There was a small scrape with some dried blood on it. It looked to be a couple of days old.

"Doesn't look too bad," Heather said after a few seconds. She reached into her bag and grabbed a rag and a water bottle. She got the rag wet and pointed at Clarisse's knee. "May I?"

…

"Almost done," Joey said. He looked at Tim's shirt. "That's not your blood, is it?"

"No," Tim answered.

"Are you from another group?"

"No."

"Is there anybody after you?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Tim said. He glanced at Clarisse who was talking quietly with Heather.

…

"Alright," Heather said, pulling a band-aid out of her pocket. "This is going to sting. But it'll make your knee hurt less later."

"How?" Clarisse asked, wincing slightly as Heather pressed the band-aid down.

"Magic," Heather said with a small smile.

Clarisse smiled and pulled the pant leg down over the now covered scrape. "I like you," she said.

"I like you too," Heather replied, wringing out the rag she'd used.

"You remind me of my other friend," the little girl continued.

"Yeah?" Heather said as she placed the rag back into her bag. "What was your friend's name?"

"Ellie."

Heather dropped the bag.

…

"So, the last question that I have to ask you right now is what supplies you have and what you can contribute to right now?" Joey said.

"I doubt that's going to be the last question," Tim said with an amused glint in his eye.

Joey raised an eyebrow. "Why—"

"Joey!" Heather called. "The friend of your uncle's. What was her name?"

"Ellie," Joey answered. "Why?"

"You know Ellie too?" Clarisse asked excitedly.

Joey glanced at Tim.

Tim looked down for a moment. "I was about to tell you."

"Give me a sec," Joey said, grabbing his walkie-talkie. "Dad, we need you over here now."

"I thought you said you could handle it," his father teased.

"Dad," Joey said quickly. He took a deep breath. "They met Ellie."

There was a brief silence before the walkie-talkie chimed again. "I'll be right there."

Joey turned back to Tim. They both remained silent for a few seconds as Clarisse and Heather watched off to the side with interest.

"Where and when?" Joey asked.

"Last week," Tim answered. "Colorado."

"Was she safe?" Joey asked quickly. "Ellie. Was she safe? Did you see my uncle? He's older. Has a beard. Was he safe?"

"As safe as they could be," Tim replied carefully. "We met up with her father the next morning. We sent him in their direction."

"She's still moving, but Uncle Joel is close." Joey said to himself as he gazed at the ground. He looked up. "You said 'them' and 'their'. Someone's with Ellie?"

"Yeah," Tim said quickly. "Yeah. Ellie's boyfriend or whatever he is… he's with her."

"Boyfriend?" Joey repeated.

They all turned as Joey's father walked forward. "Joey."

There was another silence as everyone looked at each other.

Tim finally gulped and walked forward. "Are you Tommy?" he asked.

"Yes," Joey's father answered.

"Joel has a message for you."

…

Heather and Joey sat off to the side as Tim and Clarisse sat down at a nearby table with Tommy.

As they watched Tommy and the young man talk quietly with the little girl nearby, petting a horse, Heather slowly reached into her bag and handed Joey a sandwich.

Joey shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

"You're in a mood," Heather said.

"I'm not in a mood," Joey argued.

"You're not talking and you refused free food," Heather replied calmly. "You're in a mood."

Joey sighed and shook his head. "She should have come back by now. Now, she's going to fucking Texas."

"And your swearing," Heather grumbled. "That's a new one."

Joey didn't answer. He looked at the Wall.

Heather took a deep breath. "I know that you don't want to talk about Ellie and I've always tried to respect that. God knows I have shit in my life that I don't want to talk about, but… I'd like to know who she was."

"She was my uncle's friend," Joey said as he always had.

"What was she to you?" Heather pressed. "I mean what was she an ex-girlfriend or something?"

Joey laughed for the first time in hours. "No," he said quickly, his face turning red. "I mean, she was my friend or maybe more like a…"

Heather nodded and let the conversation come to an end. She smiled slightly. "Before you found me, was she the only girl who would tolerate you?"

"I didn't actually have a lot of friends," Joey said, his face growing redder.

"Didn't or doesn't?" Heather teased. She thought about Joey's answer and lowered her voice. "Was it that you couldn't make friends, or that you didn't want to?"

Joey reached over, grabbed the sandwich, and took a bite.

Heather took the hint and ended the conversation entirely.

"Joey," Tommy called. "Can you come here?"

Joey stood.

Heather stayed where she was and looked down. Time to go home.

"Hey."

Heather looked up and saw Joey over her.

"You coming?" Joey asked.

Heather smiled and shrugged. She politely waved off the hand Joey offered her and stood.

"So, we've got two more residents," Tommy explained when Joey and Heather approached. "They'd prefer to have a house to themselves."

"Sorry to be a pain," Tim said with a sheepish smile. "But I'd like to be close to my sister. And we're used to being alone."

"You're not a pain," Heather said quickly.

"Do you have a place in mind?" Joey asked his father.

"The Wall on the west end is complete and the first shift started an hour ago," Tommy said. "I told young Tim here that if he can get one of those houses cleaned out, he and his sister can have one."

"Well, if you need any help," Joey said, stepping forward. "I'm—"

Heather cleared her throat.

"We," Joey said correcting himself, much to Clarisse's amusement. "We are off tomorrow."

"I'd appreciate that," Tim said.

"In the meantime, you can use Joel and Ellie's house," Tommy said. "We'll be right across the street if you need anything."

They were all silent for a moment as a conversation went through the walkie-talkies.

The sun had long since set and the rest of the evening shifts were about to change.

Clarisse yawned.

Tim knelt and spoke to her for a few seconds. "It's been a long day," Tim finally said, grabbing his sister's hand. "If it's alright with you guys, I'd like to check out the houses, then call it a night."

"Follow us," Joey said.

Heather and Joey led Tim and Clarisse to the crest of a hill overlooking the west end of Jackson. Although the sun was down, there were still a lot of people out working on the street and along the Wall.

The lights in the buildings were all on and families were moving in and out of various houses. Groups of people were working on repairing roofs and doors. Every few seconds, random bursts of laughter could be heard.

"Cool," Clarisse exclaimed.

"Yeah…" Tim said. He looked at Joey and Heather. "I didn't know that these places existed."

"I don't think a lot of us did," Heather said. She glanced at Joey who looked confused and almost sad, as if he couldn't see what they saw. Heather placed a hand on his shoulder for half a second. "I've seen that it takes a lot of work to keep it up and running."

"My dad says this place gives people who've been out there a second chance," Joey finally said. "I guess it's our job to keep it that way."

"We'll always need a job," Tim said, almost to himself. He looked at Heather. "So, Joey is the son of the leaders. What's your story?"

Heather saw Joey look down and stare at the ground. The look was gone seconds later as he looked up again.

Heather turned to Tim. "My story is… better than it was."

Heather and Joey exchanged small smiles and turned to look at the new community being built below.