Thanks again for the reviews! Especially to the guest who asked me to update again. I'm sorry I'm so slow that you have to keep re-reading! Hahah, I'm glad you like it though! I hope the updates can live up to the expectations. :)


Nick stared out at the vast ocean. The water extended into all directions, engulfing them, with no land in sight anywhere. The wind was softly running through his hair. They had been on the Abigail for days, heading south into the direction of San Diego, hoping for a safe place where the world wasn't overrun by walkers. The first day had been the worst. After leaving the military hospital they had headed straight to Victor Strand's place. An enormous, modern, expensive property right on the coast. There, Strand had revealed his plan: Abigail. Just as his suit and his house, the Abigail looked expensive;a luxury yacht, stocked to feed them for at least a couple of weeks, according to Strand. The further they had headed into the ocean that night, the more the destruction of Los Angeles had been evident. The city was in flames, the fires spreading along the coast as far as he could see in either direction, the flames vibrant red against the dark night sky. The following day they had encountered smaller boats on the water, some overcrowded, some too meager to make it far. All of them had shouted to them for help, but Strand had refused. "I filled my mercy quota," he had said, and that was the end of the discussion. Even Nick had told him to reconsider, but to no end. Since the third day they had not seen any other boats. It was just them and the endless sea.

Nick was pulled from his thoughts when his mother came up to his left. She didn't say anything, simply turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes, soaking in the sunlight. For a moment they were silent. Eventually, Madison spoke. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft. Nick nodded. "No cravings?" she added and he gave her a small smile. "No, Mum." The week in the military hospital had been bad, and more than once Nick had thought he wouldn't live through his withdrawal. Now on the boat, it had gotten better. He still craved a fix sometimes, but it was not nearly as bad as it had been back in the cage.

"I feel strange, Mum," Nick said after another silence, looking over at her. Madison turned her head to her son, her eyes immediately taking on a concerned look. He looked around and gestured to the sea and to the boat, and Madison chuckled. "We're spinning off the planet," she said, facing the water. "We have no idea where we're going." "That's the thing," Nick said, following her gaze to the horizon. "I never knew where I was going. I have been living this for a long time. And now everyone is catching up with me." He released a breath. "Strange," he added again, turned around and walked away.

He passed Daniel who was fishing and headed through the glass door into the living room of the Yacht. Alicia was sitting on the couch, manning the radio as she had done the last days, waiting for any news from the outside world. He walked through the small hallway to the stairs which led to the lower deck, where all the sleeping cabins were. He followed the small hallway almost to the end and stopped in front of the second to last door on the right. Carefully, he brought down his knuckles against the wood. When there was no answer, he knocked again. Eventually, a quiet grunt from the other side was his signal to enter. He opened the door just enough to put his head through. Charlize looked up at him when he did.

"D'you mind?" he asked. Charlize was sitting on the bed, a big book in her lap. It was a medical book, though Nick didn't know much more about it. Charlize had taken it from the infirmary back at the hospital, and she had been reading it ever since they had been on the boat, only ever stopping to eat or nap. As she nodded okay, she placed a small paper in the book, marking her page, and placed it on the nightstand.
Nick entered the room and closed the door behind him. Charlize eyed him while he was moving across the room and propped himself up on the bed next to her. She was wearing black leggings and an over-sized white shirt, and there were big, dark bags under her eyes. "How long has it been since you slept?" he asked. Charlize rolled her eyes at him. "I sleep enough, Nick," she said with a sigh. "But this is a lot of stuff." She motioned to the book.
For a moment, Nick simply looked at her, studying her face. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter and more gentle. "You couldn't have saved Liza."
Charlize looked away, directing her gaze at the door instead. He could see her swallowing. "I know," she said eventually. "But I can try to save the next one."

They had taken Liza's body when they left the military hospital, to allow Travis and Chris to say goodbye, and to give Liza as much of a funeral as they could arrange. They had only done it today. Travis had said some words, kindnesses about Liza, about the family they had been. When it was Chris' turn, instead of speaking, he suddenly, and almost violently shoved his mother's body into the sea, storming off after. Liza's death had taken him the hardest, understandably. For a moment, Nick wondered how he would react if Madison died.

"We're save on the boat," Nick told her, trying to sound comforting. After being silent for a while, Charlize started laughing. Nick turned his head to her, surprised. She was shaking her head, laughing. "This is actually happening," she started. "People are eating people." She continued to laugh and Nick smiled. "The end of the world," he said. Everybody copes in his own way, and laughing was one of the better options. "Did you talk to your parents?" he asked when she stopped laughing. She nodded her head as she answered. "Back when we were at the safe zone. They were okay then, no incidents in Europe. I haven't been able to reach them since," she finished. Nick nodded and they were silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. After a moment, Nick was pulled from his current train of thought when Charlize slowly felt for his right hand with her left, intertwining her fingers with his. It was a simple, innocent gesture, and when Nick turned his head to look at her, her gaze was still fixed on the wall ahead, her head leaned casually against the wall behind her, her mind somewhere else. They sat like this for a while - their fingers intertwined, Charlize looking at the wall ahead and Nick looking at her. If she noticed, she didn't seem to mind. Her brown hair hang casually just above her shoulders, and Nick was almost close enough to count the light layer of freckles that covered her cheeks. He knew them so well he could recreate their pattern from memory.

"Do you remember our first date?" Charlize asked eventually, her voice quiet and gentle. She turned her head and her eyes found his, a small smile playing on her lips. Nick pressed his eyes shut, faking a tortured expression while slightly smiling. "Don't remind me," he said, remembering too well. She giggled lightly at his reaction, and the sound made his heart flutter. It reminded him of his Junior year of high school, when they had first started dating and they would spend hours just lying in bed, talking, kissing. She had giggled like that a lot back then, when they had been happy. Nick had tried to ask Charlize out for six months without success before she finally agreed. They had been friends, and even she couldn't have denied their chemistry, she had been reluctant, because she was two years older than him and one year ahead of him in school. When she had finally said yes, Nick knew he couldn't, mustn't, blow the one chance he had with her. He thought one of the most important parts was making sure she would forget about the age difference, so he had donned black jeans, a white button-down shirt, and borrowed a black bow-tie from his father. Now, he blushed just thinking about it. He had picked Charlize up with a bouquet of lilies in hand, and she had opened the door wearing Converse and a black tank top.

"You looked so cute," Charlize smiled.
"Stop it," Nick laughed, and she joined in. "I'm serious. That bow-tie was amazing. Maybe not the most appropriate choice considering the fact that you were taking me to the county fair..." "Stop," Nick groaned, burying his face in his free hand, which made her laugh even harder.

When she stopped laughing Nick turned his face back to her, casually leaning his head against the wall. Her posture mimicked his, and she was smiling at him, not teasingly this time, but genuinely. "I loved every minute of that day," she said quietly, more sober. He thought back to their date at the fair. They had shared cotton candy, he had won a small teddy bear at the Balloon and Dart game and given it to her, and in the evening, while they were riding the Ferris wheel, he had kissed her for the first time. He thought about all that as he was looking at her now, in this cabin on the Abigail, during the end of the world. So much had happened since then. Nick studied her face, her smile that exposed a little of her teeth, the strand of her falling onto her cheek, her blue eyes, looking almost gray in the low light of the cabin. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, full of nostalgia and regret. "You're so beautiful."

The smile disappeared from her lips slowly, but not from her eyes. Her expression sobered up, and her eyes focused on his deeply, as if she were trying to see right through him. When she slowly started moving her head forward, Nick's heart began beating quicker in his chest. When she was so close that their noses almost touched, she raised her right hand and put it on his cheek. Her fingers were cold on his skin, but he didn't flinch. His eyes were on her, and everything else in the room disappeared; the bed, the dresser, the Abigail. Everything was gone but her. She moved her thumb on his cheek, gently stoking the skin. Then, everything happened fast. Charlize moved her hand from his cheek to his neck, pulling him closer, erasing the distance between them, and her lips crashed into his almost desperately.
The kiss was hurried, but not in a bad way. Is was full of longing, and nostalgia, and the need to feel alive. Charlize's lips felt hot on his, and it was at the same time familiar and completely new. Nick's heart was racing and he felt a rush of adrenaline that he hadn't felt in weeks, months even. Their bodies moved in unison and familiarity, their intertwined hands letting to to find other places to hold on to. At the same time, Nick hadn't kissed her while he was sober in almost two years. The feeling was intense, and he couldn't get enough. With one swift movement, his left arm grabbed her back and pulled her down so she was lying on her back, while simultaneously moving on top of her, kissing her urgently. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to her collarbone. A soft moan escaped her lips when he did, and it made him need her even more. He moved his upper body up, sitting up on his knees, and with one swift movement he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Charlize's hand moved to his arm and pulled him back down, kissing him, biting his lip, her hands moving along his side and back, making him shiver in a good way.
All of a sudden she pushed him off of her, successfully flipping their positions. Her right hand moved to his face, stroking along his cheek and grabbing his neck, then moving to kiss him again, kiss his neck, his chest, his stomach. Nick closed his eyes and exhaled sharply as she reached the sensitive spot underneath his belly button, and she was just about to open his belt when there was a knock on the door. Both of them froze.

"Dinner's ready," Haley shouted from outside, and thankfully they could hear her footsteps departing again as soon as she announced it. Nick looked at Charlize. She was still sitting on top of him, but he knew that their moment was gone. To his surprise, Charlize leaned down one more time, kissed him gently, and moved off the bed. Bending down she threw him his shirt from the ground and went to the door. When she opened it, she paused in the door frame and turned around to look at Nick, holding out a hand for him.


The table was so full of food that Nick wondered how Strand could store that much food on his yacht that they were able to eat so much so often. Travis, Daniel, Madison, Alicia, Ofelia, Haley and Strand were all there, seated along the big oval table that was positioned right next to the three glass walls that enclosed the room on the top deck. Strand was arguing with Alicia at the other end of the table when Nick sat down next to Ofelia.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Alicia has been talking to someone on the radio the last couple of days and apparently today, she told him our position," the girl stated simply. He wanted to ask more, but he was interrupted by Travis shouting for Chris. Nick turned around. The boy was nowhere to be seen. Nick assumed he'd been pretty on edge ever since the incident at the improvised funeral earlier, but before he could contemplate it more, they heard a big splash coming from the rear of the yacht.

"Chris?" Travis shouted, concerned. Nick was closest to the door, so he quickly jumped up, running out of the room onto the deck, following the sound of the splash. Chris was in the water, 20 feet away from the yacht. Further behind him Nick saw the remains of an overturned boat, floating in the distance. Without thinking about it, Nick took of his shoes, jumped after Chris and swam up to him. He could hear his mother shouting his name from the yacht, but he ignored it.

"What are you doing man?" Nick asked as he came up to Chris. The boy just shrugged. "I just wanted to swim," he said and turned away, swimming.

"Is he okay - Chris!" Travis was shouting from the boat and Nick turned on his back, floating. "Come on in," he shouted, sounding casual. "Water's fine!" He turned back onto his stomach and dived.

The water was fine indeed. It was warm and soft on his skin, even though he was swimming in all of his clothes. He felt almost relieved to be away from the boat. As nice a yacht as it was, it was a restricted space, and with ten people it got crowded quickly. Under water, he moved closer to the overturned boat, diving deeper down. When he got closer he saw a figure deeper down in the water, moving slowly. Walker, he thought. Against his better judgement, he moved closer. It was a man, he thought. Its skin was bloated from water, and its eyes wide but without recognition. Its arms flailed aimlessly into Nick's direction, and Nick found himself strangely fascinated by it. He couldn't stop looking, and dived further down so the walker almost reached him with his hands. When he ran out of breath, he swam back to the surface and was greeted with shouting from the yacht. He looked back. Travis was pulling Chris out of the water, and Madison was shouting for him to come back. Nick was just about to swim back when he heard a clanking sound coming from the overturned boat. He looked from the boat to the yacht and back to the boat.

"I think I heard someone," he shouted before diving back under. In quick strokes he swam underneath the boat, only coming up again under the hull. There was some light inside, and after his eyes adjusted, Nick saw that it poured in through dozens of bullet holes that decorated the hull. Dozens of objects were floating on the water inside, and one item caught his eye. He swam forward and reached for it. It was the logbook. Before he could look at it more thoroughly, the clanking sound appeared again and he wheeled around in the water. The sound came from a dead woman, clanking against the hull of the boat as she moved toward Nick. She was close enough for him to have to keep her away with his arm. His hand pressed on her forehead, and he studied her face. The skin felt spongy underneath his touch, and her eyes were empty. Just like Gloria's, he remembered. With a shudder, he pushed her away and quickly dived back from under the boat, returning to the yacht.

On the deck, Travis ushered him to hurry. When he reached it, the threw the logbook onto the deck and let Travis help him back up. His clothes drenched the ground as he stood up.

"Okay, go!" Travis shouted as he was safe on deck, and Nick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. The boat sped up underneath him, and he followed Travis inside. The others were all assembled in the wheelhouse, where Strand navigated the Abigail.

"What's going on?" he asked, drying his hair with one of the towels Charlize had handed him when he came in. Strand's expression was grave when he turned around to face him.

"Whoever did that," the man said, pointing to the overturned boat with all the bullet holes, "they're coming back."