Marcus woke up the next day feeling all right.

He and Danica had spent the better part of two hours hauling their loot from that abandoned warehouse. Maya and Jacob had pitched in when they'd realized just how much there was. They'd found a huge stash of gasoline, a couple of forty gallon drums that had been a bitch to get back to the church and they'd ended up stashing in a tarp in one corner of the courtyard. There'd also been some nice construction materials tucked away.

When they'd finished that up, the four of them had a late dinner, since everyone else had already eaten then, and got several crazy stories out of Danica, who seemed to be cautiously coming out of her shell. She told them about the six month stretch she pulled working the graveyard shift in New York as a paramedic and all the nutjobs and psychos she ended up running into. When she ran out of stories to tell, Maya ended up regaling them with a few of her own stories from when she did a tour of duty in Afghanistan.

By the end of the meal, Marcus found himself falling down tired. He'd been surprised to see how early it was: just past nine PM. The sun was a fresh memory, only recently having gone down beyond the horizon. But, he reasoned, it had been a long day. So he'd said his goodbyes, stumbled off to bed, kicked off his shoes and passed out.

Now here he was, pulling his shoes on. The sun was up but he could tell it was still fairly early. He began his morning ritual. Taking a leak, washing his mouth out with a little cup of Listerine, (they'd found a crates' worth tucked away in someone's house yesterday), deodorant and one mournful glance at the shower, which was no longer useful. Someday, he'd like to be able to enjoy a shower again...or at least a bath.

Then he left the bathroom and grabbed a trio of Nutrigrain Bars and a bottle of water. Maya was the only other one in the kitchen.

"Hey, how you doing?" she asked.

"Good," Marcus replied. "I feel refreshed. I notice I'm waking up feeling like that more and more often these days."

"Early to bed, early to rise isn't bullshit. Your body is in its natural rhythm again and as a result, you feel better," Maya replied.

Marcus began to reply, but glanced over as someone stepped into the doorway that led into the rest of the church. Lily. She looked worried.

"What's up?" Maya asked after she'd turned around and followed his gaze.

"So...I know it seems like I keep dumping this crap in your lap but...something has come up again and it requires your attention."

Marcus chuckled. "Of course it does. What do you need?" he replied.

"I've been talking with someone on the radio. A pair of people who have been kind of camping out and on the run. They didn't even know about the enclaves or anything and I was just telling them they should come join us...and then something went wrong. They stopped responding. I'm worried about them. They're really close, in that house at the bottom of the hill, to the left, first one in the row...you know the one?"

"Yeah," Maya replied, nodding. "Okay, I'll go check them out, extend an offer."

"I'll join you," Marcus said.

They hurriedly finished their breakfast and walked into the main room of the church. As they began heading for the door, Marcus hesitated. He saw Pastor Will sitting by one of the windows, staring out it...

He still wasn't better.

Couldn't worry about that now. They were likely working on a short timeline and there were people to save. The two of them made sure they had their guns, ammo and all the other stuff they tended to need to make it out in the zombie infested city. Once that was done, the pair hurried outside, down the stairs and across the courtyard.

"What do you think it is?" Marcus asked as they pushed through the gate, closed it behind them and began making their way down the dirt incline.

"We've got two choices...three, I guess, technically. Zombies, humans or environmental. I don't hear gunshots..." she hesitated, stopped, put a hand on his chest. He frowned and looked forward. There were people standing in front of the house in question. "Put your gun away," she said quietly. "No sudden movements. Follow me."

Marcus studied the situation as they came closer. He saw two people kneeing down on the front lawn, cowering, their hands tucked behind their heads in terrified defeat. Two generic grunts in green fatigues, bulletproof vests and helmets stood behind them, holding rifles, not exactly pointed at them, but not lowered either. Another man, the Sergeant Maya had confronted the first time, stood beside them, looking frustrated.

The two on the ground were clearly civilians, dressed in stained, torn clothing, a man and a woman, both of them pale and shaking, eyes wide, terrified.

"This is bullshit!" the woman said, her voice breaking. "We're just...we're just trying to survive out here! You can't kill us for that!"

The Sergeant heaved a world-weary sigh. "Uncle Sam would seem to disagree with you there, ma'am. Our orders are to evict squatters...with lethal force if they resist. And you resisted so..."

"P-please! Just let us go! I got kids man!" the man cried, panic clear in his voice.

The Sergeant shook his head. "And yet you're out here, violating quarantine, unlawfully occupying people's homes. Great parenting." He rolled his eyes.

"Look, we...we're sorry, okay?! We're just trying to get by...like everyone else!"

The Sergeant finally looked over at Marcus and Maya for the first time. He heaved another sigh. His hand had been resting on the pistol holstered on his hip. He frowned. "Fine. You got thirty seconds to get the hell out of my sight. Thirty...twenty-nine...twenty-eight..."

When they realized he was serious, both of them stood and took off, sprinting away from the house, down the street, totally heedless to anyone or anything else. Maya stepped forward. The soldiers stirred uneasily.

"Be honest, Sergeant Tan, do you really expect us to respect 'quarantine', hide in our homes and hope the zombies don't notice us? What about food? Water? Medical supplies? That shit doesn't just grow out of the fucking ground," Maya said.

Sergeant Tan regarded her with miserable, unhappy eyes. Finally, he said, "why don't you two make yourselves useful and go hunt them down? Make sure they don't get eaten."

"Would you respect quarantine, Sergeant?" Maya asked, her voice still challenging.

Tan stared at her for a long moment. "No," he said, finally.

The door the house suddenly opened and a tall woman in fatigues stepped out. "We're finished here, Sergeant. Tell your men to prep for evac and RTB."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, jerking his head to the side, indicating that they should get the hell out of there.

Marcus didn't argue that. He and Maya turned and set off, moving quickly. Both to get away from the military and to find those two survivors.

"This is bullshit," Maya growled as they stalked off down the street, heading in the general direction they'd last seen the survivors. "This is not the Army I signed up for, I bled for. They're here running fucking tests and bullshitting around while we're out there starving and dying and cold and miserable."

"Yeah, they could at least be offering food, water, supplies..." Marcus muttered miserably.

They came to stop before one of the houses and stared up at it. There was no way to figure out right away which one the pair had gone into...no way but the hard way. With a sigh, Marcus set off into the house, Maya following. They spent the next twenty minutes searching the first house, then the house's shed, then the next house, where they finally found the two terrified survivors, cowering together in the upstairs bathroom.

"Please, don't shoot!" the man cried.

"We're here to help," Maya replied. "Just calm down. We aren't with the military. Our radio operator, Lily, said she'd been talking with you not too long ago."

"Lily...oh, thank god. She was...she said we could come live with you guys," the woman said, sounding tentatively hopeful. "It's still...the offer's still open, right?"

"Yes," Marcus said. "We can take you there right now."

"Oh, thank god," the man whispered, looking like he was ready to cry.

"Thank you," the woman said.

Marcus and Maya began to lead them out of the house.

The woman's named was Karen Tolbert.

The man's name was Anson Hearst, which was kind of funny, because back before the zombie apocalypse happened, he had been the owner and director of the only funeral parlor in the valley, located in Fairfield.

Karen was a local, and a college student over in Danforth. She had been home, visiting family, when the shit went down.

"So...what can you do?" Maya asked as they all walked back to the church.

"Well...I'm not a half-bad shot," Anson said after a moment. "And I guess I can run for quite a while if I have to."

"And you?" Maya asked.

"I...well...not much," Karen said awkwardly. "I was studying art history in college," she murmured. "Kind of was drinking my way through the classes...you won't kick us out for that, will you, I mean-"

"Don't worry, we're not like that," Marcus said.

"But you do have to contribute to the community. Fair's fair," Maya replied. "There's stuff you can do that doesn't require much in the way of brains or strength, really. We need someone on the watch tower at all times and we need runners to head into town and gather supplies, bring it back here, people on the radio at all times, since Lily can't be there literally twenty four seven."

"We'll be happy to contribute," Karen said.

"Yeah. We're so damned tired of running..." Anson muttered.

Marcus took stock of the pair as they came within sight of the church. They both seemed pretty...well, basic. Simple people from a small town who had somehow survived the chaos. They didn't seem very smart, or strong, or capable even. He felt bad for making such a judgment, but, he supposed, living in a world like the one he suddenly had found himself in, you kind of had to make such judgments...

Of course, they had survived for this long. Something like three weeks into a full-blown zombie apocalypse. So there had to be something to them...

As he was thinking this and they were approaching the church, his radio suddenly crackled to life and an unpleasantly familiar voice came onto it. "Hey there, this is Job Wilkerson...you out there Marcus?"

Marcus and Maya shared an unhappy glance, and Marcus brought his radio out. "Yeah...this is Marcus, what do you want?"

"Well now, is that any way to answer the phone, son?"

"What do you want, Job?" Marcus replied, suppressing his agitation.

Job laughed. It was an ugly sound. "I hear tell you're in the business of doing good deeds...how'd you like to drive out to our farm and do one?"

"What is it?"

"There's someone here that needs a ride home...no, don't worry. Not one of yours. I'm not too sure he could make it on his own."

Marcus sighed and considered it for a moment. He could easily envision them laying some kind of trap...but what if it was legit? They were trying to build bridges, build trust. "All right, fine. I'll be right over," he replied. He turned to Maya. "Get them inside and settled. Send out Ed, would you? I imagine he'll be the only one in any shape or temperament to join me on a ride along to the damned Wilkersons," he said.

"Yeah...that makes sense. I'll come, if you want me to," Maya said.

Marcus smiled. "It's fine. Really. I'll handle it. If I need backup, you'll be the first one to know."

"Okay...be careful out there."

"I will."

He watched her and the others go as he came to a halt in the gravel parking lot. Glancing up, he saw Sam in the watchtower. She looked...peaceful. A lot of less generally pissed off than she had before. When she glanced down and saw him looking up at her, she smiled and waved. He waved back. A moment later, Ed came out into the lot and they headed for the station wagon they'd all rode down in from Mount Tanner.

"Having fun out there?" he asked as Marcus started up the car and they began driving through Spencer's Mill.

"Oh yeah, loads," Marcus replied.

Ed laughed, yawned and laid back. "Let me know when we're there."

Marcus rolled his eyes and drove on.

When they rolled up to the Wilkerson's place, Marcus didn't like what he saw. Three men stood in the mouth of the dilapidated barn that sat at the bottom of the hill that served as the Wilkerson's front yard. Two of the men he recognized: Job and Mickey Wilkerson. They were grinning unpleasantly. The third man was favoring one side, his hand clutched over his right ribs. Marcus slowed and then parked about ten feet from the trio.

"Stay here," he said quietly.

Ed nodded, hand on the pistol in his lap.

Marcus got out and, for a second, marveled at how nuts his life had become. Moreover, how quickly he'd adapted to it all. Just a few weeks ago he'd been camping, not a worry in the world, and now he had to face down nuts with guns and ravenous zombies while the Army dicked around in hazmat suits and the world came down around them.

"Hey there," Job said amiably, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hi," Marcus replied, approaching cautiously.

"Our friend here had himself a bad fall, and we're pretty busy here. We were hoping you could give him a ride home."

Marcus sighed quietly. "Yeah. Sure. Got nothing else going on. Come on," he said, making his way back to the truck.

The man thanked him and began following him, making his way slowly towards the truck as well. Marcus climbed into the driver's seat and the man got into the back. Nobody spoke until they were well on their way down the long, winding dirt road that led back towards civilization.

"My name's Sam Haney," the man said. "Uh...thanks for helping me out."

"I'm Marcus and he's Ed...what were you doing back there?" Marcus replied.

Sam laughed bitterly. "The Wilkerson boys decided I was getting behind on my payments. I tried to tell them I'd get the rest but...uh, well, it didn't matter too much to them. They got pretty upset and it sucked, but, well, heh, I guess a couple of cracked ribs is better than starving!"

"Mickey really worked you over, huh?" Marcus replied quietly.

"Mickey? Nope. It was Job."

"What...really?"

"Yeah, I'm as surprised as you are. Mickey was the one who got Job off of me. Surprised the hell out of me, too."

"Huh...why were you cutting deals with the Wilkersons?" Marcus asked.

Sam sighed. "I live with Alice Miller...I know you've been by, I saw you not too long ago when Alice went to meet you. Alice is...very stubborn. And she likes to think that we're all right on our own. But the truth of the matter is, if I hadn't cut a deal with them, we'd have run out of food a long time ago. I still owe them for it..."

"If there's anything I can do, just let us know," Marcus said.

"I appreciate it, and it may come to that, but I got good advice on a stash out in the fields that'll get them off my back. Just gotta get to it. There is however, one thing I'd like to ask you for. Alice...I'm real sweet on her and for whatever reason she's sweet on me. I'd prefer it if you didn't mention this to her or anyone else."

"We can do that," Marcus replied.

"Thank you."

They continued driving until they came to the fancy farmhouse Marcus had visited not all that long ago and had a conversation with a beautiful middle-aged woman wielding a shotgun on her front porch. As he drove up, that same woman stepped out, wielding that same shotgun, though she wasn't actually pointing it at them this time.

"What...Sam!? Where the hell have you-oh lord, what happened?" she asked as they all exited the car and began walking forward.

"Hi, Alice...uh, well, I took a bad fall, think I may have cracked a few ribs. Uh...I'd be screwed if these guys hadn't come by and given me a ride home."

"A bad fall, huh..." she sighed. "Just get in here." Sam chuckled weakly and made his way carefully up the stairs. "Go on...get in there. Shoo!" she said.

When he was inside, she turned back to Marcus. "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," Marcus replied.

Once it was clear there was nothing more to be said, Marcus got back into his car, backed out and began driving back home. For a long while, neither man said anything. Then, finally, a thought struck Marcus and he grinned.

"So...how are things with Lily?" he asked.

Ed chuckled uneasily and rubbed the back of his neck. "We're...together," he said. "She's...really nice. And what about you and Maya, huh?"

"Deflect, why don't you?" Marcus replied. "Still figuring things out," he said after a moment.

"You sure take your time with figuring things out..."

"Oh yeah, the second you get into a relationship you think you can climb up a tower and offer advice from up high. You got lucky. Lily is a lot more...approachable than Maya. I mean, she's in the Army for fuck's sake."

"There is that..."

Marcus began to reply when his radio crackled to life. "Marcus! Marcus, are you there!?" It was Lily, and she sounded panicked.

He felt his heart leap in his chest as he grabbed his radio and brought it up. "This is me, Lily, what's wrong? Are you under attack?"

"No...it's...something happened, Marcus. Something bad. You need to get home right now. I just...please, hurry."

"Okay, I'm on my way," Marcus replied, knowing that there was a good chance she didn't want to mention whatever it was over the radio.

All he could think of was that something had happened to Maya.

He hit the gas pedal and drove faster.

When they got back to the church, Marcus and Ed found the watchtower unmanned. Not a good sign. They heard raised voices coming from inside the church. Marcus pulled his pistol out and raced across the courtyard, up the stairs and in through the front door, which was slightly ajar. He relaxed a little bit when he saw all familiar faces. Maya, Sam, Lily...in fact, everyone in the entire enclave was in the main hall.

And...

"What happened!?" Marcus cried.

Pastor Will was sprawled out on the floor in a thick, wet pool of blood, a hole in his forehead. His eyes were closed.

He looked...peaceful.

"Alan shot Pastor Will!" Lily responded, her voice edged with anger and terror.

"You did what?!" Marcus screamed, whirling on Alan, who stood away from the group, his pistol in his hands, not exactly pointed at anyone in particular.

"Oh bitch all you want! You know I was in the right!" Alan replied, taking a step back. "None of you had the stones to do what needed doing. He wasn't getting any better, how long before he turned into one of those things!?"

Sam stepped forward, furious, angry tears on her cheeks. "Oh fuck you with your noble martyr bullshit!" she screamed. "You don't go killing people without at least consulting the rest of us!"

"You didn't know he was going to die, Alan!" Lily cried.

"Oh the hell we didn't know that! Everyone who gets this fucking 'black fever' thing ends up dead sooner rather than later. You know that!"

"You still should have at least talked to the rest of us first!" Jacob replied.

"Oh, yeah, we sit around talking about our goddamn feelings all day, and then what?! He turns when nobody's looking, eats three of us before we can put him down!?"

For a second, nobody seemed to know what to say. Then, in a quiet but determined voice, Lily spoke up. "What about me, Alan? Do I need to start sleeping with one eye open?"

"Get any sicker and you just might," Alan replied darkly.

"This is not okay, Alan," Maya said suddenly. "You have to leave."

"...what?" he asked.

"Gather your things, take some supplies, and leave. You aren't welcome here anymore, Alan," Maya replied firmly.

He looked around him, studying their faces...and found no friends.

"Go, Alan," Marcus said quietly.

"Fine, I'll go, and you'll all fucking die because you don't have what it takes to make the hard decisions!" he screamed at them, suddenly furious.

They all watched as he stomped across the room, snagged a backpack from the rack, filled it with some supplies from the cabinet and stomped over to the door. He stopped, once, to turn and stare back at them. "You'll regret this," he said, his voice low and seething with fury. Then, he stepped out the front door.

Marcus walked to the window and watched him cross the courtyard. Overhead, the skies were still gray and grim. It was just beginning to rain again as Alan walked through the front gates. And then he was gone.

Marcus turned back around and stared at Pastor Will.

"We should bury him," he said quietly.

"We can't," Maya murmured. "The Army..."

"Fuck the Army!" Sam snapped. "We're not wrapping him in tarp and leaving him out front. We're burying him."

Maya didn't say anything further, just nodded.

They began the grizzly task.