"Just follow me. Match my pace and don't look back," Marcus said, pulling out his third cigarette of the night, lighting it and taking a small amount of solace as the familiar, welcoming sensation of smoke hitting his lungs began to relax him, if only slightly.

He had just finished giving his statement to Sergeant Sullivan, a process that had only taken around five minutes (as he'd predicted), as several other Airman (including the one that had just aimed a machine gun at him) bagged the body of the scavenger and loaded it into the back the Humvee.

Rosie had, thankfully, not said much. That was the best thing she could have done, really. Marcus was glad that that much had occurred to her to do, at least.

"So, we're going to your home?" Rosie asked, looking around at all of the abandoned houses around them as she walked beside him, still wearing his sweatshirt. Even though she was much shorter than he was, she had no problem keeping up with him, given that he really had to favor leaning on his cane at the moment.

Marcus was good at hiding pain; really good. He had been dealing with chronic, debilitating pain for longer than he cared to remember, but standing around without his cane for the amount of time that he had had to really took a toll on him. He couldn't even wait to get home and sit down. Given how things had went recently and how irritated he was, he hoped a double of whiskey would be on the horizon, but, of course, his night was only just beginning. He had to figure out where Rosie lived and get her home. That meant no more drinking and, depending on where on Oahu she needed to go, it might be nearly afternoon tomorrow before he even got home again.

"Keep your voice down!" he snapped at Rosie, more rudely than he had intended. "They might still be able to hear us. I'll let you know when we can talk."

He glanced at her. If she was offended by his rudeness, she didn't show it.

It was only about a ten minute walk to get to his home, the one he had specifically picked out years prior to live in. The lights and noise of the idling vehicles and busy Airman soon left view and he considered pulling his flashlight from his belt, but the light of the moon was sufficient enough for navigation through these familiar streets that he decided he didn't need it.

He waited another couple of minutes before speaking.

"Home's only about five more minutes. We'll get there, I need to do a couple of things, but then I'll take you home."

He was about to ask where home was for Rosie, but she spoke first. "Why are you helping me?"

Marcus shrugged, a difficult gesture to make while hobbling along with a cane and juggling a cigarette at that. He took another drag.

"It's the right thing to do. Of course, you're not exactly making it easy to help you."

"That's awfully kind of you."

"It's not kind of me. It's not anything, really. There's a right thing and a bunch of wrong things. Always. I just try to do the right thing. Kindness has nothing to do with it."

Rosie giggled. It was a beautiful sound. "If you say so!" she sang. "I just wish I could've been more helpful..."

It was Marcus's turn to laugh. "Yeah, I wish that, too."

"No need to be mean," Rosie huffed, adorning a hurt expression.

"I'm not!" Marcus retorted. "It would have just been nice if you had your shit together a little bit."

Now, Marcus was admittedly more than a little rusty when it came to communicating with and understanding women, but it seemed to him that there was a sudden, marked change in Rosie's demeanor. She started as quite and reserved but was quickly becoming more affable and well, girl-like.

Naturally, this only unsettled him even more and he began thinking with more than a little certainty that this girl was some sort of basket case.

I'm sorry," she smiled. "Give me a few minutes to clear my head and I'm sure I'll be able to sort myself out."

They were now walking along Iroquois Drive, directly parallel to the ocean, which was less than ten yards away; Marcus could hear the telltale splash and rhythm of each wave as it crashed along the beach. The moonlight reflected off the Pacific Ocean in what (even after all this time) he considered a most beautiful way. Here had been the obvious choice for when he was asked where he wanted to live. He just wished he could have appreciated it more (which were what his moonlit walks were all about) but the incredibly strange girl walking with him was definitely keeping his mind off the view.

Marcus let Rosie's last comment drop without a worded response, merely a sigh.

They walked in silence for a few moments more before she inquired "So, the Governor let you live out here? Why?"

"You mean why did he let me or why am I living here?"

"Both, I suppose."

"It's a long story."

"I have all the time in the world."

Marcus smiled a little. "Tell you what, Rosie... I don't talk much about me. I don't talk much at all. I don't have many guests; I'm not social. Maybe you figured that out from all of this."

He glanced over and saw Rosie blink, as she adopted an expression of confusion that was, he admitted to himself, adorable.

"So, you don't like people?" she asked.

"No, not really."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But I like you. You helped me, even when you didn't have to."

Marcus laughed. "Rosie, you don't know the first thing about me. I would reserve judgment. Just some advice."

Rosie giggled again. "We'll see."

Trying to ignore how cute that giggle was (and how cute her voice was in general) Marcus stated "You sure ask a lot of questions. That seems unfair to me."

"Why?"

"Because, I live here legally and everything I do is legal. I have nothing to justify to anyone. I don't know what you're doing here, or even where you came from. If I wasn't trying to be so nice, I'd be grilling you right now about all of that."

"I'm going to tell you, I promise," she said, "But I thought it might be nice to get back to your house first. You know, sit down and relax a little. I'm still a little scared, after all..."

"And you should be," Marcus exclaimed, leaning heavily on his cane with each step. "You know what that man was going to do to you, right?"

"Yes, perfectly."

"Then I'd argue you're not scared enough!" Marcus snapped, the level of his voice rising. "Goddammit, what are you doing here? What would have happened if I hadn't came along?! You know how lucky you got? The one fucking person who lives here, who also just happens to be armed just stumbles across you right before you have the worst and possibly last night of your life?"

"I..." Rosie sounded genuinely hurt. "I'm sorry..."

Marcus stopped walking, tossed his recently finished cigarette to the ground, stomped the ember out, and quickly decided not to light up another. They'd be in the house soon, anyway. He then wiped his free hand over his face in frustration.

"No... I'm sorry, Rosie," he said. "I... You just shouldn't be here."

Just what Marcus was trying so hard not to do, he was doing; he was getting mean. He didn't want to scare Rosie and didn't want to be rude to her. This sort of thing was exactly why he lived out in the middle of cordoned off nowhere. It was to remove himself from situations just like this one. As far as he was concerned, he was genuinely finished with all of this. Finished with talking, finished with socializing. Finished with people. He didn't used to be this way, but this was who he was now. He had accepted and made peace with it.

And then this girl just dropped in out of nowhere and dragged him right back into a world he thought he had left behind long ago.

"If I wasn't supposed be here, I wouldn't have met you," Rosie said softly.

Marcus laughed a little to himself; he hoped she didn't hear it. "That's... nice of you to say. I think... But I don't know if I agree."

"I don't care if you agree or not. In this situation, it only matters what I think." Rosie crossed her arms defiantly.

Marcus smiled, and raised both his hands (his cane still grasped in his right) in surrender. "Okay, lady, you win."

"That's absolutely right," she smirked.

"See that house up the road to the right?" Marcus, said after a couple more steps, pointing at a house up the street, sitting on the opposite side of the street as the ocean. "The one with the single small light bulb under the roof?"

Rosie's gaze followed his pointed finger. "That's your house?"

"It is."

"Yours is the only house that has power here," Rosie said, looking around as if to confirm her observation.

"Yeah," Marcus said, impressed. "Yeah, I picked where I wanted to live and they restored the power and water to the one house. Sent out CE personnel to do that and to fix the place up a bit. Helped me scour the houses nearby for furniture and any other supplies I might need. Awfully accommodating of all of them, really."

"What's CE?"

"Civil Engineering Squadron. Air Force. Great guys, most of them." Marcus began walking (more like staggering) towards his home and Rosie began moving alongside him instantly.

"The did all of that because the Governor told them to?"

"Yes. Well, no... I mean, of course I asked them myself. I know a lot of them personally and since military personnel are the only ones allowed out here, other than me, it just made sense. I mean, I didn't just ask the Governor to tell them to, or anything. And a lot of the other stuff they weren't even instructed to do; they just did to help me."

"Aren't you military?" Rosie cocked her head to the side and looked up at him.

"Not anymore," Marcus muttered.

"How do you know the Governor?"

"You remember what I said about your questions being unfair?"

"I do. Do you still think that...?"

"Well, that was about three minutes ago, so what do you think?"

"I don't know, that's why I asked," she sniffed.

Marcus paused, before opening the gate to his completely fenced off property and leading the way inside. "You're an odd one, aren't you?"

"I've been told things like that, yes."

They arrived at his door. There were no lights on in the house save for the single light bulb hanging on the underhand of he second story. Directly above the front door.

Marcus transferred his cane to his left hand and, for the third time that night, drew the PPK/S from its concealed holster. This was a completely automatic maneuver for Marcus and he didn't realize the implications of doing so for a few more moments. Rosie watched him do this with a flat expression.

"Oh!" Marcus exclaimed. "Don't worry! This is just the standard thing I do before going in the house. Especially at night."

"Why?" She blinked her eyes.

"Someone could be in there."

Rosie shook her head firmly. "There's no one in there."

It was Marcus's turn to blink. "Um. How could you possibly know that?"

"I don't know," Rosie replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I just do."

For what felt like the thousandth time that night, Marcus was utterly dumbfounded. He wasn't at all used to that feeling. It wasn't the whiskey making him feel this sense of utter perplexity, because it never did. Not to mention, he was rapidly sobering up, which was definitely a good thing, as he had to drive very shortly. He had to get Rosie home and the faster he did that, the faster life could get back to normal. Marcus admitted to himself (even if a little begrudgingly) that while it was actually a little nice to be around a beautiful girl for once, he much preferred his solitude.

He thumbed back the hammer on the PPK/S. "Yeah, how about I just stick with the system I know. We've both already gotten unlucky tonight, so I'm definitely not relying on fate to see me through."

"If you must," Rosie sighed. "But I promise you there's no one in there."

"I really don't mean to be rude, but I'm not taking your word for it." Marcus sighed back. "After what just happened? Why press your luck?"

Rosie glanced down at the cocked PPK/S, as Marcus fished his house keys from one of the side thigh pockets on his gray cargo shorts and unlocked the door.

"Just stay behind me, okay?" he said.

"If you say so."

Marcus mentally sighed, as he lead the way into his home.

Author's Note:

Out to Sea, by Lera Lynn