Sarah wondered sometimes what the fuck she was doing. She'd had hope like this before: that things would turn out alright, that the place they were going to was going to be the perfect solution, that she'd find the kind of life she imagined for herself if shit hadn't hit the fan twenty-five years prior.

The hope had yet to prove true.

Here she was, sitting on an old porch in the cold, trying to hold down rising panic that this wasn't the solution they needed. Maybe staying in Seattle would have been better now that the fanatics and the Fireflies were wiped out. Had she made a mistake trusting Ellie?

She trusted Ellie even when she wanted to distrust her. Sarah didn't know how much of this was from her feelings for Ellie, the deep, comfortable emotion that had attached itself to her. Or maybe it was more that Ellie was inside her.

It was both a jolt of discomfort and a deep relief when Ellie wasn't her usual cold, scowling self. Sarah was rapidly coming to realize that Ellie's sharp wrath wasn't her. She'd identified with that cold anger, but now that Ellie teased, laughed, and told shitty joke after shitty joke, she was reminded of their age difference and the more significant difference in their past experiences.

Not to say Ellie hadn't been through hard times. Yara and Lev and all the other kids had been through it. But Ellie had known happiness in a way that Sarah was pretty sure she hadn't.

So here she sat, watching Ellie chuck one of the horse's noses and rub its neck and wondering how the hell she'd gotten here. Sarah wanted to trust Ellie's firm confidence in their future at Jackson, but it had been easier to trust the sober Ellie. This version seemed too happy to know what she was talking about.

She said something to Lev that made him flash a shy grin. Ellie's hair was especially red today with the pale snow beginning to fall. She'd drawn her bangs back from her face, but some of the strands had slipped out of her tie. Her freckles were partly hidden by the flush on her cheeks, which could be from the cold or from the sun. She looked scrawny under the too-big coat and cargo pants. Sarah knew the shape of her under all that clothing, and her imagination warmed her.

Goddamn if Sarah didn't like this version of Ellie better.

And there came the thought: What the fuck are you doing?

Their hide for the night had been scouted, a fire had been started in the fireplace, and they'd collected fresh water from the nearby river. Sarah supposed the immediate answer was she needed to see to everyone's feet, but the girls were getting self-sufficient. So here she sat in the cold, watching Ellie take care of the horses like a lovesick teenager on the verge of a panic attack.

A heavy figure sank down onto the porch with a grunt. Joel's knee popped as he shifted his weight. His gaze tracked Sarah's focus. "She's somethin', ain't she?"

Sarah glanced at Joel, taking in the scruffy beard and unkempt hair. He was so gray. He wasn't her daddy; he was Joel, a familiar stranger. Her old daydreams about what it would be like if her dad were alive had never included that she'd have to meet and learn him all over again.

He had her respect for the hard pummeling he gave her before she locked him under her arm, and he'd looked at her the following day the same way. They had each other's back, which was as good as it got in these times.

She gazed at her hands and felt the fear inside her recede for the moment.

From the yard, Ellie giggled as the horse nibbled her arm. She rested her head against the horse's forehead, rubbing his cheeks gently. The horse blinked in complete trust.

"It's gonna kill her to have to kill him. She's been putting the weight on the other horses, hoping he won't go any lamer."

She'd noticed. "She said she's a farrier in Jackson."

"Yep. She loves the horses somethin' fierce. But she loves all the animals. She names every damn thing back home, even the ones we use for food. I always said it ain't right to name something you're gonna eat."

It was easier to think of this than of the uncertainty of her situation. "How many head of cattle y'all have?"

"Two hundred, I reckon. Ellie names the calves every year though. They used to be numbers. The first year she did it, they were Frootloops. Then it was Cheerios. Then Grape Nuts. She was deciding on Captain Crunch or Chex next. Won't use Kix out of principle. And the chickens are all named after old superheroes."

Sarah snorted, and Joel chuckled along with her. "She's got a good sense of humor."

"That she does... She always made me think of you with her jokes."

"Lost some of that on the way."

"You joke with her."

"So do you."

Joel turned to her. His smile wrinkled the corner of his eyes, and all at once, he was her daddy. Sarah reached out to touch the watch on his wrist. "Guess I'll have to get you a new one."

Joel's expression turned fierce. He opened his arms, and she hesitated before she sank into them. For one breath then two, she leached his warmth and comfort. He squeezed her arm. "Oh Sarah, I missed you so much."

"I don't know how to do this."

"You think I do? You're big and strong and old—"

"Hey."

He chuckled. "You're what, thirty-seven?"

She hadn't put a number on herself in decades. "You're more sure than I am."

"The fact is, she could be your kid."

He didn't mean it to hurt, but it did. "Your point?"

Joel raised his brows as he pushed her back. "You're not my Sarah most of the time. Sometimes I see it though. You sort of froze in time in my head. Makes it hard to put the Sarah in my head on you."

"I get that."

Joel cleared his throat. "What I'm saying is, what you been through ain't easy. But I'd still like to know."

"No one's been through anything easy since the collapse."

Joel didn't argue that point. He watched Ellie with Lev and once again didn't push for more. "Makes you wonder if they're better off for not knowing what we lost."

Ellie demonstrated to Lev something involving the horse's teeth, her expression softened with gentle encouragement. Lev grinned back at Ellie. He'd gotten bigger in just the few months they'd known each other. His cough was completely resolved, even with seventy-five capsules of amoxicillin to spare. The stubble on his head grew out to a thick stock of hair that went out every which-a-way. He was eager to learn about the horses. He was eager to learn anything that Ellie could teach.

"They know they have to make the best of it. Felt like we started thinking we'd already earned it."

"I knew I needed to do some earnin' when I held you the first time. I never loved anybody the way I loved you in that moment."

"Did you love my mother?"

Joel scratched his chin, tugging at his gray beard. His brow furrowed at her unexpected question. "Nah. I liked her, but at that age, it was all about sex. Thought I was a hotshot for hooking up with a pretty basketball player. I'll never regret you though. How about you? Did you ever have anybody? A kid?"

"No kid. Never pregnant. I cared about a few women but never anything more than having some fun. I put so much into my units that I just didn't have anything emotional left. It was like you said, all about sex."

Joel's brows were raised, and he looked at her in surprise. "You're gay?"

"That bother you?"

He shook his head, his brows furrowed then. "No. Infected bother me. Like Ellie told me once: I don't give a fuck who you fuck as long as they want to fuck you too."

Sarah couldn't help but chuckle, and Joel laughed too. "I used to dread the day you went to high school. I knew I'd have to beat the boys off with a stick." He flicked his fingers at Ellie. "I kept thinking the same thing 'bout her. She sure doesn't lack for friends. Kept thinking I'd walk in on her with a boy or catch her sneaking out. Never happened. But she can sneak when she wants so maybe I haven't looked at the right times."

So Joel didn't know. It wasn't Sarah's place to say. She waited Joel out, and he eventually said, "Those two girls became her life for a few months. They were so young, maybe your age when you…were shot. I always thought Ellie saw some of herself in those kids. She was taken by a group of cannibals when we were traveling west to Utah. I got hurt real bad, and they took her. Ellie got out, but it shook her."

Joel had her entire attention. Ellie hadn't said a word. She hadn't really talked about the girls who had died in Jackson. Then again, sometimes things like that didn't do better aired out. "What do you mean?"

"Hacked off a guy's face. She said he didn't touch her, but… Took a long time before she'd talk about it. She never showed any interest in other kids. Made me wonder."

'Kids', then. Maybe Joel understood more than he let on. Sarah felt discomfort creep on. She wondered what Joel would think if he knew not just about Ellie but about their newfound resolution to try this thing between them.

What the fuck was she thinking? She'd been drunk on something that night, saying that she'd consider a relationship. The idea that Ellie wanted her after that her clumsy kiss in Seattle had lit a spark of hope that was now twisting her up with anxiety. Ellie had never been with anyone before, and Sarah was...

Joel heaved a sigh and continued on into the quiet. "I never really thought about missing you grow up. Then with Ellie, I watched her get bigger, older, smarter, quieter… Overnight, I knew she'd never be a kid again." He scratched his beard. "When she left, I thought that was it. The only reason she'd ever leave me was if she planned to die. Guess you changed her mind."

"She changed mine too."

His voice was gruff. "All the same, thanks."

"Why did you wait to follow her?"

"Got sick. Damn near coughed up a lung. I would've left sooner, but mother nature was mighty uncooperative. Blizzard came through and dumped six feet on us—earliest one in a decade. No way for me to get out with the horses I needed. I thought I was gonna kill myself waiting."

Sarah wondered what that meant for them getting back to Jackson. They were in early winter and over a month into their trip. They'd come four-hundred-fifty miles by her mental tally. They were a little over halfway there, though Wyoming would probably be the hardest part of their trip.

"How did you get mixed up in this? You weren't part of that cult, were you?"

It wasn't the first time he'd asked, but his question was more direct this time. "No. I was a Firefly Captain sent up to scout Seattle and reclaim what we could, spread word if there were any survivors and kill any hunters. No hunters, but the survivors wanted us dead. They were too busy in the throes of their fanatic cult to think about science and human decency. The main branch went dark behind us so we put down roots and made it a point to survive."

"Fireflies," Joel said softly. "Captain's pretty high rank with them."

"Not when my Admiral didn't think women should be officers. Stuck me at quartermaster instead of actually overseeing my men. My men kept telling me to stage a hostile takeover, but… My CO beat me to it; let the fanatics in and sentenced us all to death."

"None of your men stood behind you?"

Sarah meant to say 'no'. Instead, she heard herself say, "They strung me up in a noose, had me tiptoeing on a bucket with all my men hanging over me with their guts out. There was a car burning; I'll never forget that smell. The woman put a knife to my belly. She said something about sin. I don't remember. Then Yara came out of the darkness, and Lev started firing arrows, and that woman was going to shoot Yara."

Joel was watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"I swung myself over and put her in a triangle choke. I thought she'd shoot me or I'd hang to death, but I was tired of not doing the right thing. Yara put a hammer in her skull, and they cut me down. My men were dead, and those kids became my priority."

"And Ellie?"

"She saved my life. How about you?"

Joel grunted. "Marlene hired me and a woman I smuggled with in Boston. Lotsa guns to smuggle merchandise out. The merchandise was that girl."

The fact made her grow cold. Marlene smuggling Ellie out meant she'd been destined for a lobotomy and euthanasia from the start. Marlene had known what would happen to Ellie. How old had she been? "What did you think they'd do to her?"

Joel shifted. "She told you? About her…condition."

Sarah nodded, holding back a smile of amusement. He made it sound like she was pregnant.

"I didn't think at first. Just wanted to get her to DC and collect payment. With all the shit I've seen and done, you'd reckon I'd know. When they told me in Utah, I brought that whole place down. Killed Marlene. Figured they'd come after her."

"Maybe. Not worth the risk," Sarah said, watching Ellie put her fingers into the groove of the horse's leg, motioning for Lev to do the same. "You did what no one else was brave enough to do."

"What, kill for her?"

"Shut that place down. Ellie wasn't the first kid to be the cure for humanity. They all died for people too afraid to die themselves."

"How do you reckon that?"

"Immunity's natural. That's how we got resistant bacteria, why penicillin stopped working all the time. Evolution. Same with humanity, but you can't kill the immune ones and expect to keep the species going. You have to protect them, let them spread their immunity to future generations. That means accepting you're going to die."

Joel swallowed thickly. "You have a mighty fine way of thinking of the world."

"I worked in the hospital in Utah. I had plenty of time to think about it."

"Christ," Joel whispered. "When?"

"Five years ago."

"Christ," he whispered again. Underneath his beard, he went pale.

Sarah shook her head. "I was stationed in New Mexico for a while, but we left to join the Fireflies after a few years. Was in Salt Lake City for less than a year. We'd just started work on the base in Washington when Salt Lake City went dark." Sarah smiled as she considered how life worked in all the right ways. Joel looked back at her as if coming to the same realization: they had nearly killed each other and would have been none the wiser.

"Fucking shit, what kinda funeral's going on over there?" Ellie's shout was punctuated by a snowball exploding on the porch wall between Joel and Sarah.

Joel seemed to shake himself. He took on an exaggerated fathering tone. "Now, Ellie. You sure you want to pick this fight?"

"I'm not afraid of you, old man," Ellie said defiantly.

Sarah watched them square off with amusement. Ellie looked at her as if she should be helping, but Sarah shook her head. She'd let them work through their own battles. Ellie and Joel both bent over to pack powdered snow into small snowballs. They scowled at each other.

Then Sarah got two cold, wet projectiles to the face. Joel chuckled, Lev cackled, and Ellie's giggle made Sarah want to smile. What the fuck was she doing?

"Cute," she muttered, wiping her face with one hand. She nodded up at Ellie. "Need help warming water for the horses?"

Ellie's big grin settled into something more muted. She shook her head. "Go inside and warm up."

Yara grudgingly let Sarah work on her arm after dinner. Her range of motion wasn't great, but it was better than Sarah had hoped. Yara winced most with supination and pronation, but she let Sarah twist her wrist just past the point of comfort. The callus was still an irregular lump under Yara's skin, but in a few more months, it might smooth out.

"I've been flexing it when I walk."

"I know." Sarah had seen her do it. She sank down onto the cushion beside Yara. She hadn't checked in on Yara in too long; Ellie was eating up her thoughts and emotions. She'd wanted to put it all on a backburner until Jackson, but her backburner was boiling. "How are you doing?"

Yara's vulnerability was uncharacteristic. She snuck a look out the door. "I'm scared."

"Of the trip or Jackson?" Sarah leaned over to speak quietly out of respect for Yara's discomfort. Even in those first few days of agony after her proximal radius was shattered by a hammer, Yara hadn't admitted fear. This was a real emotion. It was the first time Sarah saw Yara's determination falter, and it scared her against her better sense.

"The Bright Prophet promised us paradise. We believed him. I did for the longest time. Then they hanged my older brother."

That had triggered both Yara and Lev to escape, something Sarah learned from overhearing the girls talking to each other. "Were you born in the cult?"

"I don't know."

Sarah gave a long sigh as she gathered her thoughts. The tangent hadn't been worth exploring anyway. "Ellie and Joel aren't promising paradise, Yara. They're promising a place that's somewhat safe, clean, and free. People work for a living, but no one has to serve anyone else, not the way you've been used."

"What if they need strong children?"

"Something tells me they have the kids they want."

Yara gave her a sharp look. Sarah deflated; it wasn't fair to brush off Yara's fear. "No one has to have children. No matter what your prophet told you, we can't out-breed the infected, and even if we could, that's not your responsibility just because you're a woman."

"He wanted to breed his blood into a strong line of men, men descended from Isaiah."

Isaiah, the prophet that preached about oppression, religion, and his country. Fitting that the fat fuck had called upon that particular prophet. "Why him though? Men like him want a reason to justify the rape, killing, and worship, but it all boils down to human evil, but in that he's just the same as the rest of us."

"But Ezekiel was immune to evil."

Sarah started to interrupt, but Yara continued. "He wanted to breed his immunity into his children and have his children's children multiply to select strong blood to survive the demons and walk the earth again."

Jesus Christ. Immune. How had they not figured that out after fighting with the cult for so any years? "Are you all immune?"

Yara shook her head. "I don't think so. Maybe Ezekiel's direct children, Leora and Abigail, but he stopped sending his angels out to be tested by the demons."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Sarah whispered. She pressed her face into her hands and shook her head into them. "Yara, Ezekiel wasn't the only immune person. There are a lot more than we realize, especially outside quarantine zones. Just because someone's immune doesn't mean they hold the key to the survival of the human race, and it doesn't give them cause to enslave others. You hear me? You didn't do anything wrong, and we're going to get to Jackson and find a good free life there."

Yara rubbed her arm and she considered Sarah's words. She raised her eyes with her brow furrowed. "There are others immune to the demons?"

"At least to the fungus that infects them."

"You're afraid of Jackson too."

"Yeah," Sarah said quietly. "Yara, if it all happens again, I'll get you out."

Yara touched Sarah's hand. She raised her eyes, and the look of complete trust on her face made the back of Sarah's neck itch. "I wish it had been you. You would have made a nation of strong men and women. You would have done it with justice and mercy."

That hurt more than Yara could ever guess. "Justice? Maybe. Not mercy. I had my chance at that, Yara, and I left it behind because I was too scared to fix it."

"You fixed it this time. That's who you are now."

Sarah released her tension and regrets with a long sigh. She let go of Yara's hand and patted her knee. "Let me see those feet, okay?"

Yara moved on, but Sarah sensed her faith had not.

"Scoot."

Sarah shifted unconsciously at the command. She'd drifted off by the warmth of the fire, part of her relaxed only for knowing there was no walking the next day. The other part of her was paranoid about staying in one place too long. She was dreaming a relentless loop of inventorying dwindling supplies. Ellie wedged in the warm, soft nook beside her, warming Sarah despite blocking the fire's heat.

"I never got why these chairs are so wide."

"It's a loveseat." Sarah stretched out her legs and lifted her arms high to open her chest. When she sank back onto the cushion behind her, she was amused to see Ellie's blush. Ellie's question was incredulous. "Did people fuck on these? How did that work?"

"People can have sex anywhere. No, it was just a chair two people could sit in."

"It's kinda snug with two."

"That's the point, I guess. You cold?"

"I'm always cold. You're always warm."

Sarah didn't lie to herself about her motives as she wrapped an arm around Ellie's shoulders. Ellie exhaled and snuggled closer, and they watched the fire in silence. There were three girls curled up on the couch adjacent to Sarah's seat, and Boaz and Lev were crammed into the stuffed chair on the other side. Sarah would bet there were at least a few girls already in the bedrooms.

Sarah dozed, remembering Ellie bent over the horse's hooves earlier that day. She had the amusing thought that Ellie took care of horse feet, and she took care of human feet. Sarah faded into a dream while imagining a scene probably taken from an old movie: sitting in a hot bath covered in a layer of bubbles, rubbing Ellie's feet in the steaming water. Ellie moaned and moved against her. Then something firm clamped on Sarah's shoulder and shook her out of the water.

Sarah woke up with Joel standing over her. That was a shot of shock, one that made her think in her head, 'It wasn't what you think!' "You girls need to get in bed."

He had no clue. Ellie stirred and followed Sarah down the hall. They were bunked in the bottom of a bunkbed, and Ruth and Yara were curled up on the top bed. No privacy, no temptation. Or not much temptation. What was she doing?

They curled up close out of necessity on the twin mattress. Ellie rolled over in her arms so her head was tucked under Sarah's chin. She sighed as if falling asleep. Her hand rested gently on Sarah's arm. Then she mumbled. "Why do we have to wait for you to ask?"

It was the first time she'd referred to that night the week prior. Sarah had wondered if Ellie even remembered that night. She'd been half asleep when she'd asked Sarah why they had to wait. In the light of day, Ellie had moved along just as she had prior to sleeping wrapped up in Sarah's arms. Sleep made Sarah soft, and she thought of Joel's take: fuck who you want as long as they want to fuck you too.

But fucking was easy, and this thing with Ellie was not.

Sarah pressed a hesitant kiss to Ellie's head. She spoke softly. "Go to sleep."

"For the record, being noble is really fucking unattractive."

Sarah couldn't hide her amusement. "Then I guess we'll have nothing to worry about."

"Dick," Ellie muttered in real frustration.

"Sleep," Yara mumbled from above them. Yara always had the best plans, and sometimes even Ellie listened to Yara. She curled closer to Sarah and breathed deep in the circle of her arms.

If Idaho seemed sparse, Montana was worse. The temperatures hovered around freezing during the day, which was manageable with the sun out. It snowed more often than Sarah liked. She'd managed to survive years in Chicago's cold winter, but New Mexico, Dallas, and even Salt Lake City had the more temperate climates she preferred.

They took no care to avoid leaving tracks now. Even Sarah's paranoia was waning with more distance between them and Seattle, but she still sometimes got an itch that the boogeyman was waiting. With every step away from Seattle, the others became more jovial. Ellie was bright and happy, her grins unrestrained, and she looked to Sarah more and more. It was hard not to respond to that.

Ellie started pushing her. Her touches lingered, her grins were cheeky, and she didn't have a personal bubble when it came to Sarah. Sarah put up with it in part because she couldn't lie to herself all the time.

Then Ellie threw subtlety out the window. They'd had a hard few days so a face wash and half-warmed can of beans had sufficed for their evening routine. Neither Ellie nor Sarah had watch that night, and there were enough rooms to have their own. They set up in the master, where Sarah lit a second fire to warm the room.

She knew this was stupid. She knew she was tempting Ellie. She didn't know if succumbing or rejection would hurt Ellie more.

Sure enough, when Sarah turned from the fire, Ellie watching her with pure vulnerability. She wrung her hands and half-pleaded half-demanded, "Just kiss me already. I give you permission. I'm not asking for you to marry me or pledge to have my babies, but this is driving me crazy! You just lay one on me in Seattle, then you say you want to again, and that's it?"

"Ellie…"

What the fuck was she doing? They could fuck, and then where would Sarah be?

Sarah reached out instinctively. She cradled Ellie's cheek in one hand, and Ellie pressed her hand to Sarah's and snuggled into her palm. The vulnerable look she gave Sarah warmed her and softened her.

Sarah could tear herself up over this, pretend she didn't want it, and tell herself all the reasons why it would never work. But the truth was Sarah wanted this enough to try. She wanted it as much as she'd ever wanted anything and more than she'd ever wanted it with anyone else. They teased, supported, joked, and grew frustrated with each other on every step of their journey. They were a team, a good one.

In all those moments, Ellie had tucked herself inside Sarah's heart. Sarah's need to shield and support only grew with every second added to their relationship. She wanted this just as much as Ellie seemed to. There was only so much self-control one person had.

Sarah felt herself yield. She slowly leaned close to press her forehead to Ellie's. Ellie's breath came heavy, but Sarah sighed through her nose. Ellie shifted closer; her arms came around Sarah's back. Sarah cupped the side of Ellie's neck and brushed her nose into her hair.

"Can I kiss you, Ellie?"

Ellie's voice trembled. "You fucking better."

Their lips came together in a gentle touch, one that made Sarah sigh again. She pulled back and rubbed Ellie's back with her hands, drawing her close for a long, firm hug.

"So how do these rules work, anyway?" Ellie asked against her chest. "Do you have to ask every time you kiss me? Or is it every day? Every week? Because I'm saying 'yes' to all of it."

Sarah kissed her again. This time, Ellie moved against her awkwardly. Sarah appreciated the enthusiasm despite Ellie's inexperience. "Let me kiss you. Relax."

"Well, that's embarrassing." Ellie's blush was from embarrassment, not arousal. Sarah kissed the corner of her mouth. "It just takes practice."

"Oh, in that case…"

It didn't take but a few minutes for Ellie to catch onto Sarah's pace. In that time, they sank down on the edge of the bed and were engrossed in each other. Sarah meant to keep everything soft and slow and gentle, but Ellie opened her mouth in clear question, and she couldn't help it. All at once, Ellie's hands wrapped around the back of her neck, and she arched into Sarah, and soft and gentle and slow were alien concepts. Sarah opened into the kiss, pulled Ellie closer, and Ellie's fingers were in her hair.

They gasped against each other, and the warm skin of Ellie's back where her shirt had ridden up was so soft against her fingertips. Sarah pressed her hand down to explore more skin, following the arch of Ellie's body into her touch, and there wasn't enough air in the room for both of them.

Abruptly, Sarah came back to herself. Ellie was looking up at her with wide eyes, and Sarah realized she was lying on top of her with her hand down the back of Ellie's pants. She pulled away abruptly and got up.

"What the fuck was that?" Ellie asked. Her lips were swollen, and they pulled into a wide grin that belied the shock of her question. She seemed to realize her tone and continued, "Because I want you to keep doing it."

"You're making it really hard for me to do the right thing."

"I told you I think this noble crap is bullshit. We should have sex instead."

Though Ellie had grinned when she said it, heat and cold went from the tip of Sarah's scalp to her toes and back up again. Then the anxiety cranked up, and there wasn't enough air in the room. Sarah had to get out.

"Where are you going?"

"To throw myself in the river."

Ellie sat up quickly. "Wait. Sarah?!"

Sarah strode across the house, ignored Joel's startled exclamation, and walked outside to drop to her knees in the snow. It felt good on her neck and pulled her focus from her pounding heart.

What the fuck was she doing?

Ellie wasn't another pre-collapse soldier, stripped of all hope and jaded beyond all repair. She didn't only know fucking. Maybe Ellie did want it, but Sarah wasn't sure she could only do the physical. Her heart was already engaged, and she had no idea how cut that feeling away and make this about having a good time with a friend again. And fuck, Ellie was so young. Sarah had been there before, dragged along uncertainly in someone else's wake.

She felt like a stupid teenager.

Footsteps squeaked in the snow. Joel's tone was cautious if not bemused as he asked, "Everything okay there?"

"Just got a little claustrophobic," Sarah muttered. She rubbed snow on the back of her neck and shuddered. Her chest opened in a big sigh as the pressure in her neck released.

"Come on back inside. We can't have you gettin' sick, Sarah."

"Yep." She drew another long breath and exhaled. Her body settled, especially when she sank onto the floor beside her father. Joel watched her as if afraid she was going to bolt on him.

"You wanna talk about whatever that was?"

"Nope."

"Okay," he accepted. "You want some whiskey?"

For the first time since she'd been strung up by her neck, Sarah nodded. "Just a little."

Joel only took a sip, but Sarah drank enough to relax and warm her. He shot her glances out of the corner of his eye. Eventually, he asked, "You uh, feelin' better?"

"Yeah, sure."

After a few minutes of silence, Joel chuckled. "You remember that movie I took you to? It was right before the collapse. That werewolf movie?"

"Dawn of the Wolf Part Two."

"Yeah! Part Two. I took you with all your little friends to the first part, didn't I?" He laughed. "That was somethin' awful."

"It really was."

"Did you… Did you know then that you were gay?"

Sarah shrugged. "I liked Kayla's best friend best, not the boy. I was starting to figure it out."

"Who?" Joel's question was sharp.

"The girl, the protagonist in that movie."

"Oh. You remember that? I don't even remember your friends' names."

"Eden and Rebecca."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "You ever find out what happened to them?"

"No. I was airlifted to San Antonio's military hospital for a few weeks and then put in a military prep school in Dallas in the quarantine zone."

"Dallas fell in 2020, didn't it?"

"I'd been serving for a while by then. Got evacuated to Chicago. That was a hard trip, even with gas and a car."

"How long were you in Chicago?"

"About ten years."

"Were you there when it fell?"

She was glad he'd moved to the next step in her journey. "No. Sent to New Mexico with the other military rejects. I stayed on there for a few years as we scraped out as best a living as we could, but I ended up killing as many men as infected to keep order."

"Then you joined the Fireflies."

She nodded. "They'd been in contact with us more than the FEDRA."

"Why'd you join them? Promise for better?"

"Just that I could train to be a doctor," she admitted. "Instead, I guarded the doctors and nurses that wheeled kids in and never back out again. Lasted less than a year. Volunteered to travel to Seattle to check out the QZ. Found infected and fanatics." Sarah thought of the first time she'd seen one of fanatics crucified by her own people and shook her head. "For people who wanted to repopulate the earth, they sure killed more than they produced."

"Like the Fireflies."

It was pointed and rightfully so. Force breeding immunity was probably no worse than harvesting it. What a fucking mess people made of themselves.

"Are there other branches?"

"San Francisco went dark just after Salt Lake City. The last message out was an SOS. We decided by the time we got down there, crossed the bridge or went under the bay in the BART line, it'd be too late."

Joel sighed. "Any other places you know of?"

"No. You know if Boston's still standing?"

"Heard a rumor there was revolt. Infected got in. Nothing since then. We're probably down to hunters and military outposts now. I had a buddy in Lincoln, Bill. Knowin' him, he's still going strong. He was gay too. Ellie found one of his nudie magazines." He chuckled. "Nonchalant as you please. 'How does he walk around with that huge thing between his legs?'"

"Sounds about right for her," Sarah muttered.

"Dunno what trouble she got into before we met, but somethin' tells me nothing would make that girl blush."

"Where there's military, there's porn." Sarah stretched her legs out and sighed. She took one more sip of whiskey before she screwed the cap on tight and tucked it back into Joel's pack. She glanced over at her father, half her mind already down the hall with Ellie. "Did you have anyone you loved?"

Joel's neck moved with his swallow. He gave a rough shrug. "There was Tess. We were never… Never was love, but it was something. She got bit."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged again. Sarah got his message clear: shit happened. "Anyone now?"

"Yeah. Nice woman. Way too nice for me. She likes Ellie though, wants us to move in with her. She has a couple daughters that have their own families, but they're Ellie's friends."

"You like her?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, watching the fire. "Seems to like me too."

Maybe that was enough. With the warmth of whiskey in her belly, her prior fear seemed distant. Ellie wanted her. Maybe she wouldn't want her for long, but maybe she would. If they liked each other… Except Sarah already knew the feelings inside her weren't just 'like'. She'd never felt this way about anyone before.

She watched the fire a little longer and sighed. "I should sleep."

"You okay now?"

It was probably the whiskey that made her say, "Yeah, I'm okay."

Ellie stirred when Sarah climbed into bed. Her voice was blurry with sleep. "Good swim?"

"Cooled me off, at least."

"Glad you didn't drown, bitch."

"Mmhm." Fuck it. Sarah wriggled across the narrow bed to draw Ellie into her body and wrap an arm over her. She breathed in the scent of Ellie's hair and kissed the back of her neck. Her lips were intent, and she worked her kisses across Ellie's shoulder and up to her ear.

"Sarah," Ellie breathed.

"For the record, there's always a question, and you can always say 'no'."

"I'm saying 'yes'."

"I'm saying 'not yet'."

"Then stop fucking kissing me!"

Sarah nosed the back of Ellie's head, and then she grunted when Ellie elbowed her. It wasn't a hard jab, just enough to put a little space between them. "I can't sleep if you keep doing that."

"Roll over then."

Ellie did, and she tucked her head under Sarah's chin. Her voice was soft from sleepiness. "You smell like whiskey."

Sarah opened her mouth, and out tumbled a statement that would have sent her back out into the snow if she'd been sober. "I love you."

Ellie froze in her arms. Sarah pulled her closer and tucked her knee in between Ellie's legs. "I've never loved anybody before, in case you wondered. This won't just be about sex. It isn't just because you're gay and I am too. I've done plenty of that. This is new, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of me."

"Sarah…"

"You don't have to feel the same way. I just wanted you to know."

"Thanks," Ellie finally whispered, her voice soft. She wiggled closer to tuck tight under Sarah's neck, and she pressed a soft kiss there.

Sarah considered doubling back to let the group know her find. She was probably a few hours ahead of them, but she'd wanted to find a comfortable place that night sooner versus later. The town she'd scouted was bigger than she liked; infected or hunters tended to stick to their more populous starting points.

It was cold, gray day, and she hadn't slept well the night before. She didn't want to admit to herself that she was hungover. She wanted to tuck up and sleep, but scrounging for supplies was an easier thing to stomach than walking back down I-90. She was sick of I-90. She'd at least found a new joke book for Ellie. Christmas was coming up, and it would be good to have something to offer. No accounting for taste.

She went hot thinking of Ellie's insistent kisses and the way they'd slept close, then cold because she'd dropped that too meaningful word last night. The whiskey hadn't helped the integrity of her verbal filter, and now Sarah just hoped she hadn't scared Ellie. She'd definitely embarrassed herself. She'd wanted to tell her so Ellie understood how Sarah felt and what they were waiting for, but now she wondered if she'd dumped too much pressure on.

If Ellie backed off, Sarah supposed she'd be relieved—except for the twist just behind her sternum.

What the fuck was she doing? She was a woman grown and had had enough sexual partners to have no innocence left, but this was the first time she'd been in love. That made her feel like a child again for good reason. She was supposed to be the guiding force, but what kind of example was she setting?

For Sarah it wouldn't be about sex or finding a pretty gay girl to fuck to her, but Ellie might feel differently when she got over the newness of her first semi-serious romantic relationship, lesbian or otherwise. Though Sarah had apparently already jumped in with both feet against her own will, she wouldn't hold Ellie to that.

Ellie's inexperience made her nervous for more than one reason.

Sarah moved quietly though not as quietly as she usually did. This town seemed dead, and her thoughts were louder than any external noise. She heard no infected, and there were none of the standard barricades of hunters or the US Armed Forces. She could picture this place back before the collapse: small town that served as a mecca for the surrounding podunk towns. There was a Walmart, probably an Aldi's or equivalent cheap grocery store.

A whistle rang out to her right, startling her from her thoughts. She reached for the gun on her thigh, and a shadow passed across her left side. Black enveloped her as a crushing force struck her across the face. She was out before she hit the ground.

Her head ached. Everything ached. Sarah shifted to touch her temple, but her arms were trapped behind her back. Her shoulders screamed at her as she tried to free her hands.

Danger.

Something inside her screamed: Wake up!

Sarah opened her eyes; she tried to at least. The left side of her face felt stretched and hot, paradoxically numb from the pain that radiated from the swollen tissue. Her eyelid was either swollen shut or she'd lost her eye. It was hard to tell. She wore her undershirt, but her sweater and coat were missing. Her boots were still on her feet.

Stupid choice. Take a man's boots and he'll die. Outerwear was easy enough to fashion and scrounge. That fact lit a small spark of hope that she could make it out of this.

As she focused her vision, the world around her was impossible to interpret. Sarah turned her right eye, sweeping it around, trying to comprehend her abstract surroundings. The giant warehouse had a glass ceiling, but it had shattered sometime since its creation. The sun shone through the opening, catching the white snow. The glare hurt her eye, but it didn't distract from the garish colored curling pipes that snaked through the warehouse and the faded umbrellas that seemed plucked out of a Monet painting. It smelled like bleach.

From deep in her childhood memories, the answer came to her. This was a fucking waterpark. A fucking indoor waterpark in Montana.

Too late she heard the shift of movement behind her. "She's awake!" It was a male voice, one she recognized. One of her Fireflies.

A chair scraped up and thumped down beside Sarah. She only turned her eye. The man beside her was almost unrecognizable. He'd worn his hair thick short and had been clean-shaven before, but Sarah guessed he'd been shaved bald in the cult and let his hair grow for the last month. He had lost probably twenty pounds; his cheeks were hollow and he had the mean look of a hungry man. He'd followed her with… She looked further, but he reached over and slapped her hard across her ear.

The blow sent agony bursting through her skull. Sarah held down her pain and gorge as her equilibrium established itself again.

Two of them at least. Past the ringing in her ear, the sound of movement to her left suggested one or two others.

"Hey, Cap." His tone was genial. She matched it. Blood and saliva dripped from the swollen corner of her left lip as she said, "Jimmy."

"Things are looking kinda rough for you right now, huh, Cap?"

So, she'd die. The amount of pain prior was the question. Sarah breathed slowly, looking around at her surroundings. No weapons. She'd been tied with paracord by the feel of it, but Jimmy was shit at knots. They tied her onto the chair but left her legs free, which was stupid.

She was in the corner of a balcony overlooking the indoor waterpark. The vault over the balcony and drop a level would be fine on a normal day, but not with a concussion that spun her equilibrium off with every jolt. Definitely not with the chair tied to her wrists.

He continued to watch her. Sarah stared out at the slides, the pools, and the snow and overgrown algae. Jimmy finally struck the railing beside him, his face outlined in rage. "You ever feel anything, bitch?"

She ignored him despite the rage welling up inside her, and he reached over and slapped her ear again.

"We're taking you to Boston."

Sometimes you couldn't account for stupid. Sarah could understand torturing her, killing her, but taking her to Boston...?

"Last QZ left in the country," Jimmy unhelpfully explained.

He'd forgotten Atlanta, but most people did. Who knew who controlled that QZ now in either city. Chicago had been the United States Armed Forces' crown jewel, and it fell because some fucking moron smuggled in an infected girl as a gift for the military base, and she'd infected half the men in the barracks by the time it was all said and done. Sarah had laughed until she cried when she'd heard. She would have said it served them right except for all the civilians that died because some fuck thought with his cock, not his brain. If Chicago could fall so easily, Boston and Atlanta might not exist anymore either.

"We're fucked, man," another man said. She knew his voice. Sarah closed her eye, tightness closing around her throat even in the calm that had settled on her. Trey was one of hers. She'd assumed he'd been strung up like her other men, but now she remembered he'd been sent to the western outpost. She'd been glad to send two of her men with a few of Roland's to feed her information about gossip and plans. Jimmy had been Roland's man.

"We're not fucked," Jimmy snapped over Sarah's shoulder. "She's our ticket. We take her, and we're good."

"Why would they want her?" another quiet voice sounded. Jo. Hers too. Apparently that didn't mean much.

"You said she came in to New Mexico from Chicago, demoted and none of her men talking about it. She did some shit, some shit they'll want her for."

Sarah couldn't stop her dry laugh. Morons.

Jimmy slapped her again. The blow caught her lip. The pain centered her even as it sent the world spinning again. Anger ripened and soured.

"Come on, man!" Jo's shout came behind the ringing of her ears. Sarah opened her eye and blinked as her world stopped spinning.

"What? Did you see what she did to our men? All dead. She fucking did that."

Jo and Trey had nothing to say to that. Jimmy leaned forward on his chair and watched her. "We should fuck her, maybe. If you like her that much... Maybe she needs a cock to realize she'd not a les—"

"Fuck off, man."

"What?! You were talking about fucking one of the fanatic wives."

Jo shrugged. "It's different. She's one of us."

Trey touched his knife. "Take your dick out and lose it. We don't do that shit, not to her. That wasn't part of the plan."

Jimmy's mouth tightened, but he didn't look serious about following through with his previous threat.

"So what'd you do, Cap? Fuck some general's wife? Murder someone you shouldn't have? They all talk about that temper of yours, but I don't think you have it in you to kill a man while looking into his eyes."

"There's no bounty on my head," Sarah stated. Her voice grated, rough and low. "You can take me to Boston, but they'll shoot all of us, you fucking moron."

Jimmy reached out to slap her again, but she turned and opened her mouth, clamping down on the flesh between her teeth. She bore down as he instinctively yanked away from her. He gasped at his shredded finger with his eyes wide, and she slung her right leg over his neck, slamming his face against the edge of her chair. She gained a deep pulse of pleasure as his teeth broke. That alone was worth nearly dislocating her shoulders.

Something heavy slammed into the side of her head. Sarah surfaced from blackness vomiting. Jimmy sat against the railing with his hands cupped over his mouth. She'd stripped his index finger—his shooting finger—to the bone. Someone had tied a tourniquet around his arm, which was stupid. The finger would clot. They also didn't tie the tourniquet tight enough. It would just back up venous pressure which was going to make hemostasis more difficult to attain.

"We can't kill her," Jo was saying quietly.

"She'll kill us. We know she kills deserters. We're no different, even if she's one of us now." Sarah had trouble placing that voice. Vlad, probably. He'd been on the roster with Jo, Trey, and Jimmy.

"I vote we kill her," Jimmy snarled, lisping past his broken teeth.

"No," Trey responded firmly. "We'll get enough of a start while she's getting out of those bonds. Maybe she won't and she'll die anyway, but I'm not going to shoot her while she's tied down."

"Why do you fucking care?"

"You didn't see her. She held Guy when he was pissing himself crying for his momma. She called him 'baby boy' and said she loved him. She carried Zack over her shoulder for six miles. Would Roland have done that? He always called us 'son' because he didn't know our names; wouldn't have wanted to stain his uniform to hold a dying man. She would have died for us."

"She just bit my fucking finger off!" Jimmy snarled.

Trey shifted and put his hand on his gun. Vlad relaxed and nodded, and just like that Jimmy was overruled. "So we leave her. Let's get out of here and go intercept her group. We need their supplies too bad to waste time arguing over a bitch who's already dead."

Sarah kept her head down as the men looked back over at her. They left without ceremony. As she waited, Sarah's gaze caught on a fleck of bright blue that floated on top of the bile on her thigh. She studied it, her attention caught by how colorful it was.

She waited until they stepped out of the broken edge of the warehouse. Then she started working at her bonds, shifting her shoulders and feet. The chair wasn't heavy, which was stupid of them. The angle they'd pulled her shoulders to get her arms tied to the back of the chair was still painful. She rocked on the chair, and it groaned beneath her weight. With a snarl, Sarah rocked forward and stood up. Her shoulders burned and her head seemed to spin, but she put every effort into slamming the chair back into the ground.

Her head pulsed in agony, and she thought she might pass out. Then Sarah got up and did it again. She overbalanced and tipped backward and landed hard. For a moment, Sarah thought she'd dislocated her shoulders. She swallowed her scream and rocked to tilt everything on its side. The bone on her right wrist grinded into the ground, but then the weight was off her arms, and she lay on her side. Two deep breaths to regain her equilibrium, then Sarah shifted her thighs to get her feet under her on the seat of the chair. She groaned as she pushed upward and flexed her arms hard.

There was a crack, and it wasn't her arms. The loose slots on the chair back cracked, and she kicked at her hands, popping the slats out. She yanked her bonds through it. Sarah lay breathing on her side, then with a slow exhale, she straightened her legs and eased her arms underneath them. Another long breath, and she bent her knees and slipped her wrists over the heels of her boots.

She rotated her wrists as she got to her feet. Black speckled her vision, and she swayed before she brought herself back to focus. She needed the bar. She ducked behind it and looked for anything sharp. Anything at all. She tore open a locked drawer and scrambled to push the junk aside. There, an old manual wine bottle opener. She flicked it open, ignored the corkscrew and opened the tiny serrated blade. She held it in her right hand and rubbed the paracord with her left hand. She pulled her wrists apart to apply tension with her sawing, and the cord snapped after precious moments.

Sarah coiled the rope as she staggered down the steps. She snatched up a bottle and jogged across the green-colored floor and slides. The wine opener went into her pocket. She sprinted out of the overhang into the snow and stood blinking into the brightness. Four sets of tracks led south. Sarah moved quietly across the snow, moving into cover as she judged her prey's trajectory. She was only a few minutes behind at most.

They left four sets of tracks in the snow, unworried about her. Fucking morons. Based on the light, at least a few hours had passed since they'd caught her, which meant her group would be coming up I-90 unaware of the threat. She followed her men into a residential area just south of the waterpark and its hotel. The yards were big and the buildings small here. Beyond the buildings was a beautiful view of a wooded mountain. The trees were covered with a dusting of snow.

She had no time to admire the view. She sprinted down the street after the Fireflies. When she caught sight of them, she wound up and threw the bottle. It struck a tree right by the group, and they swore and shouted. Amateurs. She'd already slipped into cover, and they took a few precious minutes figuring out what they were going to do.

Sarah glanced up at the house beside her. She ducked into a low open window and let her eye adjust to the darkness of the basement. From within the depths of the house, she heard several repetitive clicks. That could work. She snatched a piece of trash from the floor and took the stairs up into the house.

Something scraped at a closed door across from the basement stairs; the hinges were on the hallway side. An old garage? Sarah waited, her breath steady. She listened in the darkness. She heard a quiet exchange outside the house, aware they were going to track her here. She tried the knob on the door. Not even locked. The thing in the garage clicked and scratched at the door again.

Someone cracked glass when they slipped into the house in the basement. Sarah rotated the object in her hand. It was a snowglobe from Disney World, as alien as ET. She turned the door knob, threw the globe, and crouched away as the door slammed back on its hinges. The clicker burst through the door and sprinted down the stairway, following the sound of the glass globe shattering. Someone screamed high and loud, and gunfire lit up the basement, the clicker, and the soldier all in one.

"Fuck!" came the swear from outside. A light shone around the basement. Sarah moved away before that light shone up the basement stairs.

There was silence, then:

"No, we don't fucking go in!" That had to be Jimmy by the lisp he'd earned when she'd broken his front teeth off.

Sarah entered the garage, shut the door quietly, and locked it. She held her breath as spores burned her eye. It was as noxious as ammonia and inspired a lot more terror. She prayed someone had disconnected the garage door from its electric trigger already. She reached under the door and lifted, baring her teeth. She lifted it high enough to get underneath it, and with a groan, slowly lowered it back to the ground.

She coughed hard into her hands, shaking the spores from her face and sneezing them from her sinuses. She prayed Trey and Jo would do a full sweep of the house. There wasn't an alternative to her plan; she needed the time it would take them. Sarah took a deep breath and sprinted, her lungs and body burning. She rounded the corner of the house in time to see Jimmy bent over with his flashlight aimed into the basement. It was beyond satisfying to seize him by the throat and yank him away from the window. He clawed at her arm and gagged as she flexed her bicep. When his body slumped in her arms, she tossed him down and grabbed his pack and rifle.

Sarah thought of killing him, but there wasn't a knife in reach. She had to get out of there before Jo or Trey emerged from the house. She wouldn't win a one-on-one firefight with her three men, but she could win a cat and mouse and a sniper fire exchange.

She'd passed the middle school earlier that day cautiously. Schools were old evacuation grounds, and from that, they were usually full of infected. Now she ran to it, racing along the perimeter to find an entrance. There—an old broken window above a dumpster. She paused to listen while perched on the dumpster, but a bullet cracked the brick beside her. Sarah rolled into the building and lay panting on her back. In that moment of silence, her head pulsed at her in agony.

It was dark and musty, with the scent of old spores. Definitely infected in here. Sarah moved quickly through the halls, aware she would be followed. They might find a second entrance. She could try to pick one of them off coming inside, but she didn't know if they had any grenades. Cat and mouse with two or three men. On a good day, she'd kill them easy. Today, she needed help.

Sarah gave herself enough room to sit and rifle through the pack. She stowed the rifle and pack in locker 666—good luck, that—and slipped an extra magazine in her pocket. She currently had seven rounds in the pistol, one chambered. She put the gas mask on her hip.

Now to find the infected.

There was a bloater in the auditorium. Sarah discovered it—with the normal hair-raising drop of her gut—just as she heard her tail. They weren't trying to be quiet anymore, but that would work in her favor. She took two steadying breaths and lifted her pistol to fire three shots at the bloater. She screamed high hell and sprinted down the hall, drawing the attention of infected and men. The bloater roared, and its massive bulk shook the floor beneath her feet as it charged after her.

"Jo!" came an echoing shout down the corridor to her right. Sarah sprinted in that direction. She wound up and delivered a bottle down the hall before lunging aside into a classroom. Trey's light flashed across her as she dove aside and illuminated the bloater beyond. He released a short scream in pure terror. The bloater delivered a spore bomb into the classroom, but she already had her gas mask on. When Trey gave several bursts off automatic fire, the bloater turned toward the bigger and louder threat.

Another shout echoed down the hallway, and gunfire echoed from all sides. Sarah crept out of the worst of the the spore cloud and sat beside the second doorframe in the classroom. Silence rang out. Then a quiet muffled voice said, "Trey?"

It was Jo, walking beyond Sarah's doorway. He edged around the bloater, his rifle pointed down at it. He'd flanked her before she drew the bloater out. He'd been a good soldier, but she'd assumed his morals had been good too. Fool her once…

Sarah got to her feet and raised her pistol as she stepped into the hallway. Jo was bent over Trey's body, which was illuminated by his flashlight, and he heaved a bone-weary sigh in his gas mask. He lifted his head, squinted into the darkness, and set his rifle on the ground.

"Requesting euth protocol, Captain. I'm hot."

"You fuck," Sarah said quietly.

Jo sat down heavily against a locker. "Jimmy's still out there. He plans to hold your group hostage; has Vlad's weapons. I'm sorry, Cap. You were there for us, and we let you down. Will you do this for me? My mama always told me I'd burn in hell if I killed myself. Always seemed better to have a brother do it."

Sarah took a long breath. "Count."

"On three. One. Two—"

She put a bullet in his skull. Infected and not wanting to turn? She could do that for him and feel more regret than she would have if he hadn't asked for it. Sarah wondered if he and Trey had expected her to feel grateful they'd prevented her rape and left her to die. She didn't feel grateful at all.

Jo was meticulous about his weapons. Sarah picked up his rifle and stripped both men of their ammunition. Jo had her sweater and coat; she tugged them on. He'd taken her hat too. Trey had her knife and the joke book. Didn't surprise her; he loved knock-knock jokes. She slipped through the halls, pulled the pack out of locker 666, and moved through the building to find the nearest stairwell. The roof would be ideal, but she'd take a north facing window on the third floor.

That was what she settled for.

Sarah broke the window out and set her hide up. She swept her scope across the road and snatched her finger from the trigger when she saw her group moving along I-90 a few miles north. She swept her view southeast, and there he was. Cocksucker Jimmy was striding in plain view up the interstate with a pistol in hand. What the fuck was he thinking?

Well, Sarah could deal with this before the others had to. She'd enjoy it too.

She put her crosshairs along Jimmy's ankles. Either this would scare the shit out of him or put him in a world of pain. She exhaled, and his lower leg exploded in a mess of meat. Pain was better than fear any day. She nearly blacked out from the recoil and sound of the rifle, but Sarah managed to set her eye against the scope again. She couldn't hear Jimmy's screams from this distance, but she could see him writhe.

What had he said about her? That she couldn't look into a man's eyes and kill him. Funny.

Sarah packed up her weapons and supplies, breathing through her teeth to ward off nausea. She dispatched a runner in the hallway easy enough, then moved out into the bright cold.

The walk across the shallow river to I-90 seemed to take no time at all. The cold air settled her head. She climbed over the concrete guardrail and took her time as she walked up to Jimmy. There was something beautiful about the terror in his eyes when he saw her. He lifted his pistol in his left hand, and she didn't hesitate to shoot it from his hand. He squealed and rolled onto his back, writhing in agony.

Sarah kicked aside what was left of Jimmy's right foot. She crouched next to him and smiled. "Hello, Jimmy. Things are looking kinda rough for you, man."

"Please, please, please…" he pleaded, reaching out to claw at her pants.

"Sarah?" It was Joel's voice, cautious and low. She didn't break eye contact from Jimmy. "Give me a minute. Jimmy, you wanted to know why I was sent to New Mexico? In Chicago, I was a Colonel, an enforcer for the military. You know what that is? No? I killed deserters. They called me The Executioner. I was really good at it, and I did it for a long time. Kept at it even when I could send men out to do it for me.

"One day, minding my own business, I ran into a group of smugglers bringing in human cargo—girls for sex trade. The fucking nerve; they brought that cargo in under the nose of the Armed Forces." She kicked Jimmy's stump of a leg, and he squealed. She kept her voice steady as familiar words shaped her mouth. "Listen to me, son. You're going to die. Do you want it to be easy or hard? Answer me."

She cupped his head between her hands and earned his horrified attention. "Answer the question. Easy or hard?"

"Please."

She slammed his head into the pavement. "Answer the question. Easy or hard?"

"Easy," he whispered, tears sliding into his ears.

"So listen to me."

He nodded wordlessly.

"So I asked them nicely why they were there, and come to find out, the Armed fucking Forces funded them. My side, the good guys. FEDRA." She shook her head. "My CO told me he'd retire early so I could take his place—if I let it go. He told me I was a fine soldier. I told him to go fuck himself. Then I realized I hated Chicago so much I had to get out. My men came with me. Get this, Jimmy: the Armed Forces promoted me to Major General on my way out and begged me to reconsider. At that rank, I would have run the whole QZ. That means that if Boston's still standing, if we'd gotten there alive, they would have taken me back, given me a medal, and hanged you."

Sarah stared into Jimmy's eyes. "You have no idea who you fucked with, Jimmy. But then again, you don't seem to know much about anything. Guess what, though. I'm looking into your eyes."

She stood up and slammed her boot into his throat. Jimmy heaved against his own trachea. He rolled around on the ground, and his legs jerked and twitched as he tried to breathe through a collapsed straw.

"I'm gonna take your gun," Joel said quietly. Sarah had forgotten about him. She set the safety and held her pistol out to him. Her voice sounded odd. "There's a pink house on the left—east of the interstate. Right past the next mile-marker."

"He the last one?"

"Yep."

"Girls, let's go," Joel said. "Come on."

The kids skirted around her. Sarah couldn't find it in herself to raise her eyes from the pavement.

"Hey."

Sarah traced those slender legs up to a too-big battle dress coat. Ellie wore a boonie hat that day, probably to protect her sunburned skin. She looked at Sarah in full alarm, but she tried to hide it behind a smile.

"Hi," Sarah replied, all at once feeling the pain in her face. Rage had made her invincible, and now it drained away as horror and pain filled its place. Jesus. Where had she gone to in the last hour? Her entire body ached, and her head felt like it was going to crack open. Cold, color, and sound came rushing in. She finally heard Jimmy moaning deep, rattling sounds of agony. Ellie glanced at Sarah, flicked open her knife, and bent down to put the blade into his temple. That started a seizure, but he was dead within the minute.

Ellie remained crouched by him. "How bad are you hurt?"

"Just a little broken." Sarah stood up and swayed, but she firmed. She turned before she realized she'd pointed herself north, not south. Ellie took her arm. "Think you can ride?"

"I can walk."

"Okay," Ellie said and gently led Sarah in the right direction. She was keeping it together better than Sarah.

Sarah put one foot in front of the other. She lost some of her memory of the walk along I-90. She was dead inside and out, and each step became heavier and harder. Through the fog that cloaked her better sense, she noticed little about her surroundings.

Yara and Ellie led her to the couch in the living room of the house she'd scouted, and she sank down onto it.

"Where's your stuff?"

"I got it back. Stay out of the school. Out of the other houses too. More infected here than we've run into before."

"I'll go scout around." Joel's silhouette framed the doorway. He glanced back. "Don't let her sleep, mind."

"Let me see you." Yara studied Sarah's face, and she pressed a cold cloth to her left cheek and eye. "They hurt you."

"I've had worse."

"Boil up some tea, Lev," Yara directed.

Ellie put Sarah's feet up and stripped her boots. They were pulling at her coat too, and both Ellie and Yara were feeling her all over. Then they just stripped her out of all her clothes and draped a bedroll over her.

It felt contrary to laugh when one of their fingers grazed her ribs, but she couldn't help the reflex. The laugh stretched her hot, swollen skin. She pulled the makeshift icepack off her cheek and probed at it. Beneath the swelling, she didn't feel any grinding bones, and her eyelid felt intact. She remembered that bright clear blue on her pants and realization crystallized with certainty: that bit of brilliant color in her vomit had been the iris of her left eye. Nothing like puking to raise intraocular pressure. They might as well have gouged out her eye.

Yara wiped a tear from her cheek. She held Sarah's face again. "It will be okay, Sarah."

Sarah had told her that so many times, back when they were scraping a living in the old hide. Now Sarah released a shuddering sigh as she tried to believe the lie reflected at her. Sarah's lie had turned out to be truth, but she wasn't so sure about Yara's.

They helped Sarah get clean clothes on and propped her head with several soft pillows. Ellie touched the bruises and raw skin on her wrists but didn't ask.

"Will you eat?"

"I think I'll throw it up."

"Drink some tea at least."

Sarah accepted a few sips. She sighed, resting the fresh snowpack on her cheek. From the front window, Lev said, "Joel's back."

Joel tromped in. He kicked the snow off his boots, set an extra pack on the floor, and settled on the chair adjacent to the couch. With a frown of concentration, he pulled the lever on the side of the chair, and it creaked open, propping his feet up. "I could get used to this."

Yara looked at Joel like she often did: like he wasn't as worthy as Sarah and Ellie. "Sarah should sit there."

"I'm not moving."

Joel remained pragmatic. "Picked up two of their rifles and all the ammo on them. Figured it would be worth carrying given all the horses we have. How's the face?"

"I'll heal." Sarah felt stifled by the attention. "Go to bed, you two."

Ellie searched her face. She earnest and obviously upset, but she hid it well. Yara put a hand on Ellie's shoulder, and Ellie nodded slowly. She looked past Sarah at Joel and said, "Get me up if something happens. You hear?"

"I hear."

An hour later, Sarah managed to eat a small amount of food. She took a few pulls of whiskey at Joel's recommendation, and the alcohol eased the pain in her face to a dull ache, but it didn't help her equilibrium or her mental state.

"You wanna talk about it?" Joel eventually asked.

Sarah stared up at the ceiling. "Does everything slow down when you get into that killing place?"

"Depends. Used to when it was just about me. When I've got someone to look out for… Things tend to speed up then."

"Yeah."

"They all dead? Just the four of them?"

"Yeah."

"They were military."

"Two were mine. Two were my CO's men. They had this plan to kidnap me to turn me in in Boston."

"Why?"

"You heard."

"Yeah," Joel said quietly, his voice rough. "They didn't wager on you, did they?"

"Not many people do. I'm big for a woman, but I'm a woman. That made me good at my job in Chicago." And that made her a shitty human being.

"It don't matter now," Joel said softly. "You're Sarah here. And you better heal up and keep marching on. Find a way to move past it."

Move past it and do the right thing. What the fuck was right though?

It took her three days to recover enough to resume their journey. Ellie coaxed Sarah into bed the last night, and Ellie's fingers clutched at her shirt sleeves. She didn't let go all night.

Sarah was at a crossroads. The reminders of her past and her past self shook her. It had taken years to step away from the person she'd been in Chicago, and that all roared back. She could have accepted the killing, but the worst part was she let herself revel in it. Her past had taken over, and she hadn't been better than her old self, the Sarah that she hated. She'd avoided it in Seattle somehow, probably because of the kids, but this time...

Her past had ruled her.

"Go to sleep," Ellie said clearly. Sarah sighed heavily and drew her closer. She closed her eyes and put it all off until the next day. It was easier not to think.

Joel walked beside Sarah every day that he didn't scout. He had a way of hovering without bothering. Sarah was perpetually tired and her head pounded with her exhaustion, but she marched on. She was worried about her left eye but now wasn't so sure she'd lose it. She still had no vision though. A look in a mirror showed severe hyphema and scleral hemorrhage; her entire eye was red. Sarah was worried she'd develop glaucoma from anterior uveitis, but there was nothing she could do about it but take some aspirin for pain control and hope her eye didn't need to come out until she got to Jackson.

Ellie scouted most days. Sometimes they sent Lev up, but Ellie was reliably good and didn't complain about the extra distance. Today, Ellie doubled back when they paused to eat around midday and discussed their destination with Joel.

Sarah had trouble focusing on their words. She studied Ellie and tried not to be obvious about it. Ellie glanced at her and looked away with a frown.

It was a hard place to be right then. Ellie had tried to approach her more than once, but Sarah wasn't feeling much of anything about anybody. There was no talking about what had happened and no talking through that place she'd gone to. The only time they were together was when they curled up under a bedroll for warmth.

Ellie had drawn her hair back into a full ponytail that day. Strands of hair had escaped, and Ellie pushed it behind her ears in irritation. She'd torn a hole in her pants the day before, and her coat was unbuttoned at the neck.

She could have been in an old 80s movie aired on Saturday mornings.

Sarah would have had a crush on Ellie as a girl. She was the kind of bad-girl punk that made Sarah shy in school. Sarah had been good; her friends had been good. But she could picture Ellie with ratty jeans, high-tops, a tattoo, a scowl, and a too sharp attitude for high school. She probably would have rolled her eyes at the thought of the sports Sarah had loved: basketball, soccer, and baseball. She would have been the one kissing Sarah in the stairwell, and Sarah would have followed her to the moon.

Sarah would have killed Ellie in Chicago.

She watched Ellie walk away before turning back to the food in her hand.

"What are you doin'?" Joel's voice broke her out of her stupor.

"What?"

"Who are you helping by pushing us away? That girl cares about you."

Sarah made herself eat another bite of cold beans. What would be think if he knew what the root of her dilemma was? She wasn't sure how to put it into words. "I was paid to kill people. I made myself forget for a little while."

Joel scoffed. "You think we all weren't there? I was a hunter, Sarah. Don't see me wallowing in my guilt."

"You didn't have a choice."

"Bullshit," Joel snapped, his voice rough. "There's always a choice. It may not be an easy one, but death is always a choice. I chose to survive. That ain't wrong."

"I could have asked to do something else."

"What do you think your guilt accomplishes here? Who are you punishing? Yourself? Or her for thinking you're better than you think you are?" He softened. "They were trying to kill you, Sarah. Looks like they got a bit of their own torturing in."

"It wasn't the killing. It was the fact I enjoyed it."

He softened. "No one enjoys rage. I've been there, and it ain't a place anyone who's happy looks back on fondly. So get the hell over yourself and wake up. She needs you, those kids need you, and I need you. Tell yourself whatever you need to get past it, and get past it. You hear?"

Sarah pressed her face into her hands. She nodded slowly into them. "I hear."

There was time to think in the second half of the day. They'd been going slow for the last week, but today was a longer march to make up for a bit of lost time. Three days gone, then short spurts for the last week had set them back nearly fifty miles.

Was it really so easy? The gnawing darkness inside her denied the fact, but Sarah knew some of this emotion came from falling into that black place inside. She would come back out the other side, but it was up to her if she'd emerge whole or not.

So she'd killed her former men and a part of her had enjoyed it. The bigger deal was that she'd survived, and she had a reason to keep going. Sarah wasn't so sure she would without the people surrounding her. Rage could fill and motivate, but when the people who needed killing were dead, there was nothing left. Better to die than to live for rage alone.

She could push Ellie away, claim distraction, claim her shitty past made her unworthy, and take back the statement about love. Or she could do the right thing and make Ellie and herself as happy as she could in the time she had. What was the point of all this if she didn't try? Joel was right: even if Sarah pulled away to punish herself, she would be punishing Ellie for her own sins.

That night, as they shared a can of venison and beans, Sarah let herself enjoy Ellie's presence for the first time in what felt like weeks. Ellie's smile and attention were tentative, but after her watch, she woke Sarah up to curl up beside her. Sarah reached out and pulled her closer.

The answer to all of this was pretty clear. There was no solution but to hold on with both hands and see where this train took her.

Getting back to that comfortable place took time, but they had plenty of it. A snowstorm holed them up for a few days, and then they slogged through the sixteen inches more slowly than before.

The glare of the sun off the snow hurt Sarah's left eye to the point she covered it with a makeshift eye-patch. She couldn't see more than blurry figures, but light triggered a splitting headache. She was strong enough now to put Ruth up on her shoulders though. Joel carried Boaz through the cold.

Ellie walked next to Sarah, watching their surroundings for signs of Lev. He'd been scouting more frequently, probably to emulate Ellie. Ellie looked as cold and miserable as the rest of them, but she suddenly smiled. The grin cut through Sarah's mental estimation of their too-light packs and slowly dwindling food.

"What did the snowman say in the blizzard?"

She had at least one joke per day, and Sarah spent some time thinking about this one. "My icicles are freezing off?"

"What? That's terrible. No, he said, I'm coaled."

"That's just as bad."

Ellie retorted with a rude noise. "You clearly have awful taste in jokes."

Sarah had to concede that point. Ellie eventually moved up the line, checking on the other kids no doubt. This was easy, this comradery they'd shared in Seattle. They'd lost it somewhere on the road, and Sarah couldn't help but think she'd thrown something complicated into their formula that didn't need to be there.

The word 'love' didn't have to mean things were weighted or scary. They could be the team that had scouted, planned, and killed together in Seattle. Romance wasn't required, and sex wouldn't be any more than adding another layer to the way they were together. Sarah wondered how she'd lost sight of that. She'd used sex for fun in the past, but that was because her past partners had been nothing to her. She'd even loathed a few of them. Sex only meant as much as the person she was with, and Ellie meant a lot.

It wouldn't be fucking, and even if it was, it wouldn't cheapen what they felt.

Sarah wasn't sure if Ellie wanted that anymore. She'd withdrawn as Sarah had, and she hadn't pushed for more, but there was something heavier between them now. Instead of setting off an anxiety attack, Sarah was comforted to have something steady she could depend on.

They caught up to Lev a few hours before nightfall. He'd discovered the most idyllic spot Sarah had ever seen, pre- or post-collapse, and he was clearly pleased when he led them half a mile off the interstate to it. An old sign designated it was a fishing retreat, and there were cabins set up in a neat row. Each one had a wood stove, a bed, and kitchen. They were all intact, and there were no infected or hunters. There was just snow, birds, and their relieved, exhausted little group.

The girls chose two adjacent large cabins, but Ellie walked a little way down the row. Joel and Sarah followed as she opened the door to a tiny one-room cabin within shouting distance of the larger two. Ellie looked around and pronounced, "I want this one."

Joel glanced at Sarah. "If you stay with her, I don't see the harm."

Ellie stilled. She glanced at Sarah cautiously. "You don't have to."

Sarah knew exactly what she was doing when she said, "No trouble. Probably can get this pretty warm. You staying here too?"

Joel shook his head. "I'll be with the girls. I have watch with Lev tonight."

The little cabin seemed like it was snatched right out of a scene from Dawn of the Wolf or any of its four spin-offs. Two young lovers secluded in the woods, finding shelter in a tiny cabin, bundled together for warmth; the lovers would subsequently succumb to the romantic tension. Except the cabin was the only thing that felt that way.

She and Ellie moved together as steady as always. They unpacked the supplies they needed for the night. They took advantage of their wood supply and the warmth of their chosen spot and bathed as best they could, scrubbing the clothing they could spare for the night. They shared venison and beans, and Sarah opened two extra cans she probably shouldn't have: green beans and cherry. After eating too much, they settled down on the couch to watch the fire.

"Got you something." Sarah hit Ellie in the head with the new joke book she'd found, and Ellie's face lit up as she snatched at it eagerly.

Ellie spent a few minutes reading the best jokes. Then Sarah played softly on her harmonica, pleased that the noise no longer triggered a headache. They fell into comfortable silence as the fire burned lower. Sarah finally got up from their cozy spot to add more wood.

"You know there's no take-backs, right?"

Sarah glanced over her shoulder. Her left eye only transmitted a blurry outline of Ellie on the couch. She smiled and wondered if there was a punchline to Ellie's statement. "Is that a joke?"

"You can't take back saying you love me."

She turned all the way around to get a good look at Ellie's expression. Sarah saw defiance and vulnerability. "Do you think I have?"

"I don't know," Ellie admitted. "We don't seem to get anywhere new. We actually have privacy tonight, and all we've done was tell shitty knock-knock jokes and play the harmonica."

"That means something, Ellie."

Ellie massaged the web of her hand, her face drawn in question. Sarah wanted to take her hands to soothe the nervous gesture and the emotion behind it. "I don't expect you to tell me every secret. Or even one. But you have to give me something. You can't just say you love me and shut down. I know those fuckers messed you up, but I'm not strong enough to keep going with your promise we'll get somewhere in Jackson. I need you now."

"Okay," Sarah said softly.

"We've waited long enough."

"Okay." Sarah stood up.

Ellie watched her with her eyebrows up. She cocked her head. "Just like that?"

"Yeah."

"Shit. I had this whole argument planned out. Now what do I do?"

"Come here."

Ellie approached cautiously, as if still afraid Sarah was going to change her mind. Then her shoulders relaxed, and she sank into Sarah's arms. Sarah probably hugged harder than she should, but Ellie only nuzzled closer. Sarah stroked the soft hair at the nape of Ellie's neck.

"We don't really have to if you don't want to, but I just wanted you to know I do. I mean, I guess this is enough, but I don't want to regret not being with you."

Sarah was amused that a young woman who could use every iteration of the word 'fuck' couldn't suggest she wanted to have sex without blushing. Ellie abruptly pulled away, still twisting at her own fingers as she paced. "I don't want this to seem like pressure, but it's like… Even in Jackson when I was working and happy, there was always this thing weighing on me. Then Naomi and Lia came and they were killed, and it was just like: more people that died...because of me, one way or another."

"Ellie—"

"Then I met you. And things just started clearing up. My immunity and what happened with the Fireflies, Joel meeting you, and wiping those fuckers off the map and saving the girls. It wasn't me, Sarah. It was you. But you also did this thing to me. You made me feel like it was okay to be happy. I've never felt that way before you. You're just...amazing."

"I'm not who you think I am."

Ellie met her eyes abruptly, sharp with her appraisal. She nodded. "And maybe I'm not who you think I am. Or maybe we see each other better than we see ourselves. But what I'm trying to say, Sarah, is that… I love you too."

Sarah was stunned by those words, but Ellie forged on. She ducked her head and went back at twisting her hands up. "We don't have to do anything. I just had to get that out there. When those fuckers took you, when I saw your face and how you were with that asshole on the road, I was so scared—"

Sarah drew her back against her chest, wrapping her arms around Ellie's shoulders and pressing her face into her hair. She wanted to laugh and cry at once. The profession shouldn't have changed anything, but it did. She didn't care how long this lasted, the memory of tonight would be enough.

"Okay."

Ellie stilled. "Another okay?"

"How about a 'fuck yeah'?"

Ellie laughed.

"But—"

Ellie hit her chest, immediately irate. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me! There can't be a 'but' after that!"

Sarah kissed her, which shut Ellie up enough that she could finish. "Let's move the bed near the fire and get everything packed up and settled in."

"That's not very romantic," Ellie said, but she was obviously smiling when she said it.

"We'll have more opportunity for romance in Jackson."

"That I can deal with."

The pragmatism of their motions to get ready for the night did nothing to dampen their anticipation. When Ellie finally sat on the bed by the fire with her hands at the collar of her shirt, she lifted her wide eyes, and Sarah thought her heart was going to pound right out of her chest when she saw her vulnerability reflected by Ellie. She sat beside Ellie, and they kissed until all their fear was overwhelmed by need.

Undressing was quick but awkward. It always was. They lay down in bed beside each other. Sarah pulled Ellie against her and reveled in the feel of her warm skin. When they eventually got to the looking part, Ellie's tattoo drew her attention. She touched it as she studied the skin and the ink all in one. Then she pressed a kiss to the skin of Ellie's inner arm. Ellie gasped, but instead of pleasure, she expressed ire. "You have me naked in your bed—"

"It isn't my bed," Sarah teased.

"You dick! I'm completely naked and you go for my fucking arm?"

"I haven't had much chance to study it. What kind of moth is it?"

Ellie groaned in what could be real irritation. "It's a Promethea moth. Happy now?"

"Prometheus, who gave fire to men." Sarah kissed the moth, smoothing her nose over the raised tissue under the tattoo.

"Except I'm kind of the Prometheus that kept the fire."

"Maybe you are the fire," Sarah murmured, thinking again of the fanatic's goal to breed immunity into their children. Maybe genetics had nothing to do with it right now; maybe the Fireflies were right in thinking it was the fungus that had evolved. Natural selection was slow and accidental, completely random. Then again… Maybe the fanatics were right to worship that hope for the future.

"You're getting way too metaphysical for the physical thing we're about to do. Can we get back to that, by the way?"

Ellie had a point. Sarah kissed her arm again. Ellie cupped her jaw and pulled Sarah up to her. Their kiss was slow and familiar. Then, as Ellie had so rudely requested, Sarah touched every bit of Ellie's skin until Ellie called her a bitch and a tease. She was scrawny, pale and freckled and every bit beautiful as herself, especially when Sarah pressed a finger inside her.

"Fuck!" Ellie gasped. Her hips jerked in an unrestrained rhythm, and they found her pleasure together.

"Okay?" Sarah asked her only a few breathless minutes later.

Ellie panted against her neck. "Fuck. Good. Great. Amazing. Now let me do that to you."

Sarah yielded to her back when Ellie pushed at her. Ellie had unbraided Sarah's hair, and she kissed it gently. Her touch was as gentle as her gaze as she stroked Sarah's skin, lingering on the grooves of her muscles, her scars, and the soft curve of her breasts. Sarah gently pulled her down to kiss her.

In Dawn of the Wolf or any of its smutty adaptations, they would have made love for hours and slept naked together. This was their reality. Sex lasted maybe half an hour, and after they finished, they pulled on their clothes and lay in each other's arms.

In Dawn of the Wolf, the protagonists would have fallen asleep without talking and woken up to teenage angst and jealousy. Reality was so much better. Trust and honesty and loyalty were more important than dashing romance.

Ellie stroked Sarah's stomach under her sweater and talked about Jackson's animals, her complicated job that mixed feet and medicine, and the difficulties of slaughtering animals that she'd cared for their entire lives. Sarah reflected Ellie's honesty. She talked about her limited medical knowledge, the few times she'd made a real difference with her skills, and her hopes and dreams of learning enough to make a difference more often.

"Doc says he makes a difference five percent of the time. It's his goal to make things better, not worse, in those cases."

"This doc of yours sounds pretty wise."

"He's losing some of his memory. Olivia helps a lot, but we need somebody else with enough knowledge to figure out when he says right or wrong and take over. But that means you'd have to treat animals too."

Ellie lit a spark of hope deep in Sarah, and she grinned shyly as she saw that on Sarah's face. "Yeah. I figured even if my luscious body wasn't enough to get you back to Jackson, the promise of a really hard fucking job might do the trick."

"I dunno. You are pretty luscious." Sarah reached down the back of Ellie's pants and squeezed her, and Ellie laughed and wiggled away. She sobered after a moment. "It was okay, right?"

"Better that okay. You enjoyed making me come. That's a big deal to me. And guess what; we can practice as much as we want. Together."

"You really have a way of making awkward things awesome. That's great for me because in case you hadn't noticed, I can be pretty awkward." Ellie kissed her gently. Her eyelids were drooping, and Sarah sympathized with her exhaustion. She tucked a few strands of hair behind Ellie's ear and kissed her temple.

"I love you, Ellie. Sleep."

"Only if you promise we'll do this again."

There was, Sarah suddenly realized, never 'enough'. There would never be enough of this. She would dream about doing it all again tomorrow. She gathered Ellie close and vowed to get it closer to right the next day.

"I swear."