Season Four: Episode One (Ghost in the Machine)

"So, kids," my father started as he poured himself a drink. He was on leave for the week, which the four of us were excited about. "How was your day?" he asked. We were all sitting down for dinner. My mom cooked spaghetti and meatballs, Aaron's favorite. I stole a glance at the seven-year-old beside me. All around his mouth was stained orange from the spaghetti sauce. I bit my lip and tried not to laugh as he slurped another noodle with his orange lips.

"It was okay, nothing interesting happened." Chris told dad. My father nodded curtly. His blue eyes moved to me. The expression on his face was serious as ever. "Angie and I went shopping. I got this really cute sundress that I'm going to wear tomorrow." I informed him. He nodded again.

As soon as his gaze landed on Aaron, the seriousness faded away. My dad's laughter bellowed out through the small dining room. His laughter was like a disease, because once he started laughing, the rest of us followed. Even Aaron, who only a few seconds ago was attempting to shove a meatball the size of his fist into his mouth, was bursting with giggles.

Then, in a blink, everything changed.

I was no longer sitting at the table with my family enjoying dinner. I was standing in the doorway of my house, frozen in horror. In the middle of the hall, only a few feet away, was my brother's body. Chris. Smart, kind, over-protective, funny Chris was staring at the ceiling, a dazed look in his forest colored eyes. There was so much blood on his shirt that I couldn't tell how he was injured. At the end of the hall was the kitchen and dining room, my knees felt like they were going to give out. My mother was the one I found next. She was propped up against the wall, a large ragged cut resembling to a claw across her neck. Then I saw Aaron, his small body resting at an awkward angle on the outside patio.

Something must have thrown him through the sliding glass door, because there were shards of glass from the broken door everywhere on the ground.

I heard a grunt from my parents' bedroom. "Dad." I whispered.

I scrambled back down the hall and pushed the door open. I screamed at the sight of one of them, jumping back.

"Ericka?" my dad croaked. He was on the bed, a hand pressed to his throat. There was a cut just like moms underneath his hand. I sprinted over to him.

"Daddy, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault," I cried out, tears finally pooling down my cheeks.

A frown crossed his face. "Baby girl, you have to go. Find the Masons. Tom will look after you." He muttered as his eyes began to sag.

"No! Daddy, please don't leave me alone!"

I waited for him to open his eyes, to say something, to move, but he didn't. I can't believe he's gone. I can't believe any of them are gone.

I whipped my head in the direction of the alien. There was blood on its claw and a knife protruding from its head.

"Ericka!?" my neighbor, Tom Mason, called.

HONK!

Ericka gasped, eyes popping open at the sound of the horn. She straightened her back, sitting upright. It was the car in front of them. "Relax. It's just Weaver screwing around with Pope." Ryan soothed. Ericka didn't know Ryan all too well. All she knew about the man was that he was a good fighter and from somewhere further south than Charleston. "Right…" she responded. Grabbing her pack and her rifle, she hopped out of the slow-moving car.

The trip back to Charleston had worn her out and her dream had left her slightly on edge. At least she was sleeping better. Ericka marched over to Colonel Weaver, who walked beside his daughter.

"Thanks for the wake-up call, Colonel," was her sarcastic reply. He simply laughed with Jeanne.

All she could think about was that dream. It had been almost a month since she had a dream about that day. Jeanne nudged her in her side, grinning, "Perk up, we're almost home." Ericka blinked, coming out of the daze she was in.

Her lips curled upward as they reached the top of the hill. It was a magnificent view of the city below, even if said city was completely destroyed. Ben stood beside her, weaving his fingers through hers. Their mission had been a huge success. And now they were home.

Beamers swarmed overhead. Ben let her hand go, placing his on the small of her back. He pushed her back the way they came. Ericka could barely make out the sound of Tom's voice over the airships, telling them to run.

One of the Beamers dropped a small statue right in front of her. She yelped, falling back on her butt. She crawled back, her lungs heaving to catch the air just knocked out of her. Ben lifted her up to her feet and pulled her away from the statue. The stone glowed green. A fence lit up between the small statues, creating a barrier. Ericka spotted Ryan, fighting against a Mech. She cringed when he was shot down. Suddenly, she wished she had known him better. She didn't know what to think, she just knew she had to move.

Ericka ran, heading for the tree line with the rest of the group. More statues dropped, forming another fence and blocking their only way out. "They're boxing us in!" Tom shouted above the chaos. Somewhere along the way she had lost sight of Ben. She turned left and right, searching for him. All around her, all she could see was pain and suffering everywhere she looked. Some of the soldiers continued to fight, but what was the point.

A blast went off, sending her backwards. The blast threw her roughly to the ground, her skull cracking against a rock. She tried to blink away the blurriness in her vision, but it was no use. Ericka closed her eyes, succumbing to darkness.

MONTH ONE

She could hear the sound of footsteps against the dirt, drawing nearer and nearer. Maybe it was the silence of the night that allowed Ericka to hear the quiet footsteps. Or maybe it was the fact that she hadn't really been asleep. She felt someone grasp the bag beside her.

Her bluish-gray irises snapped open. Without another thought, she grabbed the handgun she had hidden underneath her for this very reason.

She pressed the barrel to the person's head, clicking the safety off. Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't think so," she venomously spat.

The person at the end of the barrel was a young boy, perhaps a year or two younger than Matt. She had to remind herself that Matt was probably dead, along with everyone else. The boy had ruffled black hair and a pair of black framed glasses that matched. Underneath the glasses were freckles that dotted his eggshell skin. He gulped, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Let go of the bag, kid."

His tiny fingers released it. Ericka stood, towering over him. She swung the bag over her shoulder, along with her rifle. The little boy was shaking in shoes. "P-Please don't kill me." He whimpered.

"Did you know that centuries ago, thieves got their hands cut off?" She questioned the boy. He shook his head. Opening his mouth to speak, he was silenced with a click.

A grin crossed her face.

"Ah. Let me guess. You have an older brother?"

The little boy nodded. He managed a small smile.

"He's ten, he kinda skipped history class." The voice was tense though it dripped with sarcasm. He didn't sound that old.

"So, what now? You want my things?" Ericka asked.

"Well, first I want you to move the gun away from my little brother's head. Then we can talk about the food," he answered.

She pushed the gun further into the boy's forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, terrified. The gun behind her prodded her head.

"I'm not giving you shit. You wanna shoot? Go ahead. You shoot, I shoot," Ericka added.

He must have seen the terrified look on his little brother's face, because the gun moved away from her head. The older teen tossed it in front of her. "There. Just let him go," he pleaded.

"I wanna see you. Move in front of me, then back up, " ordered Ericka.

He obediently followed her orders. Now she could see him clearly. There was no way he could be a year or two older than her. Though he was about a foot taller than Ericka, his face still looked young. His hair was black like his brother's, but that was pretty much the only thing they had in common. Nothing about them beside their hair and the color of their skin looked similar.

"Hands on your head," she whispered, her voice cracking.

He complied, chuckling at how serious she looked. "Should I get on the ground too?" He questioned with a joking tone.

"What's your names?" Ericka questioned curiously.

The older boy's eyebrows shot up with surprise. A minute ago he was so sure she was going to shoot his little brother, but now, he wasn't.

"I'm Zeke. He's Max." The older boy wasn't quite sure why he confessed their names, but he stared at her quizzically. In the dim light from the moon, he could see the bags under her eyes.

"You two on your own." It was more of a statement the a question. Zeke snorted, "No, the rest of our group decided that a ten-year-old would be the best candidate to still from a sleeping girl."

"You did," she retorted.

A growl from Max's stomach silenced their bantering. Ericka frowned, moving the gun away from his forehead. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He timidly opened an eye. This close, she could tell it was blue. Dark like the ocean.

"When was the last time you ate," she asked. The concern in her voice surprised both boys. Max's other eye opened. Instead of Max answering, Zeke did. "Two days. You're the first food source we've come across."

Groaning, she cursed under her breath about morals. Ericka clicked the safety on the gun back on. She shoved it in her bag. Digging around in the backpack, she pulled out a can of peas and two granola bars. She tossed the food to Zeke.

"Nearest town's ten miles east. Watch out for Skitters," Ericka heeded. She ruffled Max's hair as she walked past him. The boy's jaws dropped in shock. No one had ever been so kind to them. Zeke watched her retreat into the woods. "Wait. Why are you helping us?" He couldn't understand this girl. One minute she was threatening to shoot Max and the next she was tossing him food. She paused. With irritation in her voice, she answered, "Because of dead fucking Tom Mason and his fucking morals."

MONTH TWO

Ericka weaved pieces of her brown hair into a simple braid. Sleeping soundly beside her was Max, snuggled up in his olive sleeping bag. He shivered, curling his body in further. She stopped what she was doing and draped her blanket over him. It could have been their similar names or the fact that they were so close in age, but Max often reminded her of Matt.

Sometimes it hurt. Like when Zeke killed a Skitter, Max would beam proudly up at his older brother and say, "That was so awesome!" Or how he always wanted to help killing one of them. It was just a reminder that Matt was most likely dead. Along with Tom, Hal, Maggie, Anne, Weaver, Jeanne, Lexi, Anthony, Denny, Lourdes, Tector, and...Ben. Her heart ached every time she thought about him. Some mornings she would wake up in tears because she spent the night dreaming of him. The only person she figured that would still be alive was Pope. Him dying seemed impossible. Then there was Hanna and Kathleen, who she left in Charleston. Were they even alive? She kept their names written down in their journal. She refused to forget them. Even if it hurt to constantly remind herself of what she lost, she wouldn't allow herself to pretend they never existed.

"What are you thinking about?" Zeke asked perched on the ledge. They were camped out on the rooftop of a two-story building, which probably wasn't the smartest idea considering their escape route was a storm drain attached to the side of the building.

His back was turned to her as he stared at the ground below them. Zeke watched a few people scurry in the dead of night when they thought no one was watching.

"Nothing," she replied, undoing her braid before starting over. It helped calm her down a little. Ben and the Masons were always on her mind. When she awoke amongst the dead, she didn't have time to see if they were there. Skitters and Mechs were coming in fast and she knew she had to leave. That was the hardest part. In the first few weeks, all she did was cry her eyes out. Eventually, the tears lessened, but the pain in her chest didn't.

"You know pretty much everything about us, but all we know about you is that you lived in Boston before this and were a part of the Resistance." Ericka wondered why he was so concerned with learning more about her. This was an apocalypse, not meet-and-greet. "Because you don't need to know my life story," she answered vaguely.

After she had spoken, silence followed, until, "Who's Tom Mason?"

The question caused Ericka to release a piece of her hair, messing up the braid. Her lips were parted, but not a sound came out.

"You mentioned him the night we met, but you never said who he was," Zeke continued.

He shifted in his spot. Twisting, his blue eyes met hers. It was another thing him and his brother had in common. Blue eyes, black hair, white skin, and nothing else. While pretty much everything that came out of Zeke's mouth was sarcastic or a joke, Max was always serious. Zeke never seemed afraid. Max was terrified twenty-four-seven, though he pretended not to be. "Ericka?"

Though in the past month, she had come to think of the boys as friends, she didn't have to tell him. She didn't have to tell Zeke that Tom Mason was like the father she lost at the beginning of the invasion. She didn't have to say a word.

"He was my neighbor. My parents were killed in the invasion, and since our families were close, him and his wife took care of me," she explained.

He scoffed, a smirk on his face. "To think, I thought he was your apocalypse boyfriend."

Ericka opened her sleeping bag, crawling inside. It was only a joke. Yet it felt like a knife stabbed her heart. Nestling further into the sleeping bag, she closed her eyes. Maybe, if she were lucky, she wouldn't have any dreams tonight.

MONTH THREE

"Zeke! Ericka!" Max was screaming at the top of his lungs. Both teens glanced at one another before sprinting back to their hideout. It was a small clothing shop they found ransacked.

Ericka heard the Mech before she saw it. She pulled Zeke in between two buildings to hide. "What the hell are you_" she covered his mouth. The Mech turned in their direction. She waited, her heart pounding inside her chest. When the sound of grinding mental receded down the street, she moved her hand away. "Thanks," he mumbled. Zeke knew getting themselves caught wouldn't help Max.

Zeke and Ericka found their hideout empty. They tried to follow the aliens that took Zeke's brother, but neither of them could pick up the trail. It was like they just disappeared. Ericka and Zeke spent the entire day searching for Max with no luck. When they headed back, Zeke climbed into his sleeping bag and stared straight ahead.

She left some food beside him in case he was hungry, but he didn't eat. He just stared at Max's empty sleeping bag. Ericka gave him a sympathetic look. A part of her expected something like this to happen eventually, the other part of her desperately wanted to deny it. But there was no denying. In this world, there was pain. Moments of happiness and joy were fleeting with each passing day.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

Zeke's question was so sudden, she snapped her head in his direction. She stared into his eyes as they filled with tears. Sighing, she tore her blues away from his.

"Before my boyfriend and I got together, he was captured. The Skitters harnessed him, but his dad, Tom Mason, magically found him one day. He brought him and a bunch of others back to the 2nd Mass and our doctor saved all of them." She remembered how different Ben acted when he came back, but it was still the same old Ben. Even with his new abilities, he was still the same.

"I miss him," she muttered aloud.

"What was his name? Your boyfriend," Zeke pressed. Anything to take his mind off of the loss of his brother.

"His name was Ben."

A tear trickled down her face.

MONTH FOUR

"How do you do it?" His question came out of nowhere, disturbing Ericka's thoughts. Her eyes drifted up from the map to meet his hallow sapphires.

Ever since Max was captured, he hadn't been the same. It was as if a vacuum sucked out all the life left in him while he was asleep. "Do what?" she questioned back, confused by what he meant.

Zeke sighed, running a hand through his hair. They had been walking through the city for days, neither of them quite sure where they were heading or what they were searching for. Zeke had pretty much given up all hopes of finding his brother; and Ericka, well, she was sure that the Masons had perished. It was hard not to think of them, of him.

"You said your family was killed in the invasion, and I'm assuming the family you were with isn't alive anymore, right? So, how did you move on," he asked as tears filled his eyes.

Ericka turned away, willing herself not to cry. She bit her lip, continuing forward. Her grip on the map tightened. It was a rough hand-drawn map, but it was something. "I think if we head about three miles north_" she was silenced by the way he jerked her back. His eccentric eyes molded into hers. "Tell me how?! How do I move on?! How do I stop thinking about how I lost him!?" His voice had risen and his grip tightened. She shoved him back, causing him to trip and fall on his butt. "You don't!" Her scream echoed through the seemingly empty city. He blinked before the barrier holding his tears fell.

Her entire body was shaking with rage. But it wasn't Zeke she was furious with, it was herself. How could she have allowed her family and friends to die? How could she just allow herself to slip into unconsciousness while everyone fought for their lives? She blamed herself every day for something she couldn't control. She knew it was ridiculous to blame herself, but the guilt was still there. A drop of water landed on her face, followed by another and another until the skies began to sob.

"You don't move on. You don't forget. This pain you're feeling right now stays with you forever," she lowered her voice only a little. Zeke's head sagged down at her confession. His wet hair flopped in his face, shadowing his eyes. She looked at the map that had fallen from her grasp when Zeke pulled her back. The page was drenched in water, deteriorating by the rain.

"Get up, we're going to keep moving," she ordered sternly.

He shook his head, black hair sloshing back and forth. "No, I'm done. My brother was all I had. If there's no way I can move on, no way to fix this pain, then I don't want to live," he told her, his head still bowed in defeat.

"Suit yourself," she muttered. Ericka forced her legs to move. She didn't want to leave him. She didn't want to be alone again. That first month by herself was torture. Still, she knew she couldn't force him to come with her. She couldn't force Zeke to live. That had to be his choice.

The splash of a puddle behind her confirmed what his choice was. He had chosen to live. Overjoyed that she wasn't going to be alone, she spun on her heel. Her face fell when she saw who it was.

AN: So, new season? Ericka is split from the Masons and she's with a boy! No romance between them...yet. It all depends on this whole "Ben and Maggie" thing. This story isn't going to deviate from the show, so if a main character hooks up with Ben (which is weird cause she's like 22 and he's 16), then Ericka and Ben are no more. That being said only way Ben and Ericka can be together is if the FS writers keep him alone or pair him up with a supporting character (then I have no problem changing it, because that character wouldn't be around anyways). So, Ben and Ericka may or may not be together much longer. Plus, there's the whole fact that she thinks he's dead. Who (or what) do you think she saw? Also, sorry I'm super late. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out by Sunday, buuuuuuut I don't know.

To the reviewers-0netflixme0 - As long as I feel like writing this (and I get encouragement from lovely reviewers like yourself), the chapters will keep coming. The Bree Tree 3 - Yay! :D I'm glad you loved it so much. Sadly, I will not being doing season one. Cindy, FreedomIsn'tFree, and blamethegnomes - Thank you for voting! It means a lot even though I never actually did it.

Thanks to everyone following, favoriting, reviewing or just simply reading. Don't forget to review!

Oh! And in case you didn't know, I'm doing this writer-reader character collaboration. (check my other story for details)