our.

I woke up early, just as We were getting on the road. The night before, the group had agreed to drive to Wad Madani, roughly 21 hours away. Luckily, with all of the Kum & Go's abandoned, getting gas was easy.

I spent all of that day passing in and out of sleep. I was most alert when there were bodies in the road or when the car was being swarmed, but those times were few and far apart. Gotswana had exhausted himself driving, so he lounged in the middle with Arnold and Naba while Michaels took the wheel. That gave Mafala and I some room to spread out, which I was eternally grateful for. Poptarts still refused to sit anywhere but Church's lap.

I was asleep when we got Wad Madani, and woke up in the thick, bleak time of night when you know that you won't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. I tried my luck at looking at the map. We were scheduled to stop in Port Sudan the next day, then the day after we would be in Egypt. I figured that was a pretty good plan- we would be halfway there.

I finally fell asleep when dawn came.

I woke up to quiet chatter. Church and Thomas were conversing with Schrader and Neely through the walkie-talkie. Naba and Arnold were being their usual adorable selves, Michaels was driving and Mafala and Gotswana were still passed out. I felt a weight in my heart. Connor was supposed to be here, napping on my shoulder. I was supposed to quietly kiss his forehead while no one was looking. There wasn't supposed to be an empty space beside me. It had been all I could think about.

I was so consumed by my sadness that Michaels had to honk the horn to get my attention.

"What?" I practically yelled.

"Someone wants to talk to you." Poptarts said plainly, reaching back to hand me the walkie-talkie. I took it, a little wary of his intentions. I hit the 'talk' button.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Turn around." The person on the other end said. I did as I was told, and unbuckled my seatbelt to pivot my ribs around just enough to see the other van through the back windshield. Connor was pushed between the two front seats, staring me down from his van. He looked frantic, fiery hair mussed and crystal eyes wide.

"Connor?" It came out as a whisper.

"Kevin, I love you too." He told me. There was a delay between his lips moving and the sound coming through the small yellow machine in my hand, but I was positive that the boy I loved had just told be that he loved meback. And that was all it took.

"Pull over," I said, both into the walkie-talkie and to Michaels. Davis, the driver for the other van, immediately complied, but Michaels was reluctant.

"What? Why?" He asked loudly.

"Pull the fuck over!" I yelled, but I was smiling. Everyone sat in shocked silence as the car screeched to a halt- I hadn't said a single swear since we left the church. I frantically crawled over the middle seat and threw the door open, hitting the ground running. I met Connor between the two vans and, without hesitation, kissed him.

"What made you change your mind?" I asked, transferring the question to his lips.

"I'm already damned and the world is falling apart, why not make the most of it?" He chuckled. I laughed. "Plus, Poptarts talked to me."

I glanced towards Poptarts. He was smirking, as if he had just helped me discover all of the secrets of the universe. Maybe he did.

"Guys, hate to break up the little 'secrets revealed' party, but we should probably get a move on." Michaels pointed to the road behind us as he exited the van, a few of the Sick were lumbering towards us, about 50 feet away.

"Okay," I breathed. Michaels knowingly moved to the other van, patting my shoulder as we passed each other. Connor was back with me. I didn't let him go the whole ride to Port Sudan. It felt amazing to have him back in my arms for the night. It felt even better to wake up like that. I found that he had slobbered all over my chest in the night, but I couldn't have cared less. We drove for a few hours in content silence.

But you know what they say- calm before the storm.

Our van ran out of gas with no station in sight. Zelder, with his supreme map-reading skills, claimed that there was one down the road, about five miles. The other van had just enough gas to get there, fill up, and bring some gas back. We figured it was as good a plan as any, so we watched as they drove off. The thing is, we got a little… impatient.

"Where are they?" Mafala asked after the first three minutes.

"Relax, Mafala. It's only been a few minutes. We're fine." Poptarts re-assured from up front. That silenced him, but not the expression of anxiety written on his face.

It took two more minutes for that anxiety to come to life. It was hot, so we rolled down the windows. That's when we learned what made the Sick tick; the smell of un-infected flesh. Our car was swarmed within a couple of seconds. They came from everywhere, pounding on the windows that we rolled up, on the doors. The car was shaking. I was sure that we were dead. All I could do was hold Connor in the hopes of protecting him.

Just when all of the scraping and moaning and screeching had reached its peak and my life was in front of my eyes, There was a loud rat-tat-tat noise from all around. The Sick weren't surrounding our vans anymore, their bodies instead lay dead on the ground, really dead. Three black jeeps were parked just a few feet away. A tall, buff man kicked open the passenger door of the left jeep. Middala came out of the middle jeep. The man approached the car and tapped the glass of the window with the barrel of his gun, then craned his head to look at Middala.

"These them?" He asked in a deep, gruff voice. Middala came over to the window. His chest was heaving.

"Yes," He sighed, relief evident in his voice. The man demanded that we get out of the car, but assured us that they meant no ill will. They helped us collect our things and loaded them into one of the jeeps.

"We have a camp," The man said, "not far from here. We got food, showers, clean water. We'll getcha where ya need ta go. I'm Armin, by the way. We found your friends here at a gas station jus' down the road." He paused, and the silence became eerie. "Well, are ya comin' or not?"

Everyone looked to Connor, who, after introducing himself and hashing out some details, he agreed to let these strangers take us to their camp. I was wary of their intentions, but Connor put his faith in them and I trusted him completely. I crawled into the middle jeep with Connor, Arnold and Nabu. Zelder hugged us, and Davis almost cried- they thought we were dead. Church, Poptarts, Gotswana and Mafala went into the left jeep with Armin.

Fortunately enough, they weren't lying- They had a mid-sized camp a little bit north of Wad Madani. There were maybe ten or so people, but I couldn't be bothered to learn all of their names. The only people who struck my interest were two teenage girls, both 15- Lilly and Faye. They were shy and reserved at first, but eventually warmed up to us. They were both extremely sweet.

"Y'all can stay as long as ya need," Armin told us, "We'll give ya food and gas so ya can get to wherever it is yer goin'."

We thanked them profusely and went for showers. They had four tiny stalls set up with tarps between a few trees, and hoses poured lukewarm water from a pump. It wasn't much, but I don't think I've ever been so happy. Connor said that I should shower with him, in the interest of saving water. I readily agreed. We undressed, but I could tell that he thought that he had a mistake- he instantly went to cover his torso with a towel.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He looked like Arnold, pretending he had a cape.

"I- I don't think you should see." He replied. I creased my eyebrows, then raised them as I remembered the white line on his arm as he walked away that night at the mini-camp. I reached my arm forward and gently tugged the towel away. Connor looked down in shame.

His entire chest and shoulder areas were covered in thick, white scars. I gasped; this was insane. But this is what I needed to see, to slowly unravel the thick web of his inner thoughts. I didn't say a word. I just took him into my arms and held him. He shook harder than all of the times I had held him after hell dreams. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. The shock of it all was still so fresh.

I spent the shower watching him instead of actually washing myself, which had been the whole point of the shower. I couldn't bring myself to make any sudden movements. If I hid, I'd cry. There were moments when he would catch me staring at him and move away. Towards the end, when the water was beginning to run out, I grabbed him and held him close again. I kissed his shoulder where the scars were. I expected them to shrink out of sight, but they remained. That was a harsh awakening. No matter how fiercely I loved him, I couldn't make him love himself.