The next couple of hours seem to pass mutely.

Marcus was having a difficult time keeping his mind off of Alan and on the task at hand. He and Maya were making their way slowly across the small town of Spencer's Mill, deciding to check out a handful of houses that hadn't been marked off the map yet. Neither spoke very much during the first hour, both of them lost in their own thoughts as they picked through the wrecked, bloodied ruins of two houses next door to each other and then their garages. There wasn't much left in each, only a handful of food stuffs and, in one of the garages, a nice, sharp hatchet that looked unused that Maya seemed pretty interested in.

During the second hour, as they pressed on with their search, Maya seemed to try and get a conversation going, chatting idly about this and that, nothing really of any consequence. It took him a little bit to realize what she was trying to do, but he finally picked up on it. She wanted to get his mind off of what had happened back in the diner. He figured it was probably for the best. Lots of fucked up things were still yet to come, he was sure.

They were making their way to another house that hadn't been officially investigated yet when Marcus finally asked, "What did you mean when you told him that there's no such thing?"

Maya was quiet for a while, and he had to wonder if she was considering what to answer, or whether or not she wanted to answer him at all. She led him up the stairs of the front porch to the house they were prepping to investigate and she lingered in front of the closed front door for a long moment, still considering.

"A lot of people believe that there's this...force, in the universe. A sentient force that is keeping score, of everyone. God, karma, fate, divine intervention...there's a lot of names for it. But it's bullshit. It's all bullshit. I think a lot of it is willful ignorance. All you have to do is take one look around this miserable shithole we call a planet and know that it's total fucking bullshit. Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. Nobody gets what they deserve, they just...get what they get. And the thing is, I can actually not only understand but sympathize with the people who believe in this idea.

"Because the thing is...no one wants to get robbed, or get cancer, or lose their spouse in a bad car wreck, or any other million shitty things that can happen to us, and believe that it's just...random. Everyone wants someone to blame, or, at least, they want to be certain that who or whatever did the bad thing to them will get punished, in the end. They have to believe that the people who fucked them over will, themselves, get fucked over. But it's just not the way it works. Religion is just stories we tell each other to feel better about the fact that the universe doesn't care, or the fact that you can be the best person that ever lived and still get cancer, or you can spend your entire life trying to succeed at something and still die a failure.

"And that's why I told him that there's no such thing as justice...at least not on the sense he thought about it. Because of the fact that there is no god watching over us, we have to make our own justice. It's our responsibility to make good things happen, to punish the wicked and reward the good. Because if we as humans don't do it, then it won't get done."

"Wow," Marcus replied after a long moment of silence. "I see."

"Sorry if that got a little heavy," Maya replied. "It's just what I believe. Well, more like, it's what makes the most logical sense...come on, we shouldn't linger."

She opened the door and led the way inside. Marcus followed her. For the next several minutes, they did a quick search of the house, seeing if there was anything alive, (or, strictly speaking, undead), in the structure. They only found a single zombie hidden away in an upstairs bathroom. Marcus put it down with a quick, sharp crack to the head and then they began their more thorough search of the house for useful materials.

"What about you?" Maya asked while they searched.

"What about me what?" Marcus replied.

"What do you believe? I know of some places where my opinion would get me thrown out or worse," Maya said.

"I guess I believe the same thing, if I really think about it. I mean, that's the thing. I never really thought about it too much. I suppose I didn't really want to. If you linger too long on how fucked up the world is, you start to feel hopeless. But it makes sense."

They continued their search, moving through a ravaged living room and a cleared-out kitchen/dining room combo. Not finding much beyond a few errant cans of beans and rice and a bottle of water at the back of a cabinet, they moved on upstairs. As they did, Marcus caught a glimpse of a view out the window. He hadn't realized how late it was getting. The sun was pretty close to setting. It wasn't a good idea to be out and about at night.

"We should probably get a move on," he said, pointing the lowering sun to Maya.

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied.

They continued their search. Marcus noticed that the upstairs still seemed pretty intact. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom that, while empty of the most obvious things that could be useful, still had a lot of intact furniture and random junk. Marcus continued mulling over what Maya had said as he searched. She didn't seem like a happy person. It made sense, though. She'd lost two of her best friends not all that long ago. Plus, there was that whole zombie apocalypse thing going on. That tended to get a person down.

"I think that's it," she said as they finished up. "Come on, let's get back."

As they began making their way downstairs, Marcus suddenly heard a familiar sound. It set his instincts on edge and he walked quickly and cautiously to the nearest window after hitting the bottom of the steps.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered, pulling his pistol out.

"No, what?" Maya replied, doing the same.

He frowned, studying the immediate area. It was a heavy breathing, an animal sound, that he remembered hearing that time they had fought that incredibly dangerous zombie in the field, the one with the long arms and greenish skin. Maya joined him at the window. He continued scanning the area, then moved on to the next window and looked out of it too. For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

"I thought I heard-"

A loud roar cut through the air. Marcus spun around and saw, through the open front door, a long-armed nightmare racing straight towards them. Without thinking, he bolted forward and slammed the door shut, leaning his weight against it.

"Maya, the window-" he began, then a great weight was slammed against the door so hard it sent him sprawling back into the house.

The beast launched into the room, looking for murder. It focused on Marcus and he could tell it was getting ready to pounce on him like a cat pounces on a bird it's wounded. He prepared himself to get out of the way but knew he had a slim chance of survival at this point. Suddenly, its head snapped to the side and blood flew through the air.

Maya lowered a smoking pistol.

"Holy shit," Marcus whispered.

Maya hurried over to him and crouched down. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Uh...yeah, I think so." He sat up and groaned. Several parts of his body now ached painfully.

"Hold still, let me see if you broke anything," Maya said. She holstered her pistol and began running her hands over his limbs, asking him if it hurt. Ultimately, they agreed that nothing had been broken, but when he stood, his left ankle felt pretty painful. Maya frowned, crouching again and rolling up his pant leg and down his sock.

"Looks bruised," she murmured. With a sigh, she stood back up and glanced outside. It was getting very dark now, and not just from the sun going down, but also from storm clouds. Before long, it would be raining.

"Okay, it's too dangerous to head back. We'll just stay here tonight," Maya said, sounding suddenly resolute.

"Are you sure? I mean, I could make it back. Maybe we could find a car...it doesn't feel that bad," Marcus replied.

But Maya was shaking her head, pulling out her radio. "Lily, this is Maya, come back."

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Marcus and I got attacked by one of the freaks, the long-armed one. We're okay, but Marcus' ankle is looking swollen. We're kind of far away and it's already pretty dark. We're going to stay the night in one of the houses."

"Are you sure? I could send...ohhhh, okay. I get it. Well, good luck, Maya."

"Thanks."

Marcus frowned. "What...did she mean by that?" he asked.

Maya shrugged. "Nothing," she replied.

But Marcus thought he could sense some kind of subtle interplay going on, like it was a joke everyone but him was in on or like they were planning a surprise party or something. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but right now, his ankle really was starting to hurt and it made focusing difficult. If he was being completely honest, the thought of not having to slog back through the city was extremely appealing.

Also, the thought of spending the night with Maya, away from everyone else, was equally appealing. He still didn't know how to approach her though. She was so...intimidating. She clearly knew what she wanted, what she was doing with her life. She seemed so determined. Why would she be at all interested in someone like him?

"Come on, let's secure the house. Then we can get something to eat," Maya said, dragging him from his thoughts.

He nodded and continued considering his conundrum while they closed and locked the doors, then retreated upstairs, selected one of the bedrooms, what must have been the parents' room, and closed and locked that door, too.

"Okay," Maya said, shrugging out of her backpack. "Let's eat dinner."

They ended up splitting a couple of cans of tuna, some crackers, a can of Vienna sausages that Marcus had found during their excursion today and a couple of bottles of water. For a little while, they simply sat on the bed together and ate. Marcus also found the time to down a couple of extra strength Advil to ease the pain in his ankle, and the rest of his body. As they finished eating, Marcus noticed that Maya seemed very preoccupied.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I...if you really want, I'm pretty sure I can make it back to the church, I mean, you know, if you're worried."

"What? Oh, no. I'm not worried about staying out here. We'll be fine," she replied.

"Oh...then what's wrong? You seem...well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually seemed nervous. I don't think I've ever seen you nervous."

"I am," she admitted reluctantly.

"So what's wrong?"

She sighed, seemingly coming to a decision. "Do you...like me?" she asked.

"Uh...yeah. I do. You're pretty great-"

She shook her head. "No, I mean, do you want to...be together?" she asked.

"In what way, exactly, do you mean 'be together'?" he replied cautiously.

"Oh my god, Marcus! Do you want to have sex!? That's what I'm trying to ask! Do you want to have sex, with me, here, now?!" she cried, exasperated.

"Oh! I...uh...yes," he replied.

She laughed. "Okay, good."

She leaned in and kissed him.