Chapter 11

Captain Weaver wasn't lying when he warned they would be in for a long journey to Charleston. Two days' travel and the supposed new capital of the United States was still several days out. Supplies and fuel were beginning to run dangerously low, so it was time to establish a new temporary base and get their bearings.

By now Grace had already forgotten the name of the small town they had pitched up in, but she knew they were steadily making their way through Virginia. The area was quiet and scouts hadn't picked up any human or alien activity, so Weaver deemed it a good place to take a break. Grace and Dai scrounged up some fuel at an abandoned gas station, whilst her father's team found a grocery store that hadn't been ransacked - they had enough food for at least a week.

The respite hadn't seemed to do Grace much good. Tired, she sat cross-legged by one of the old buildings that overlooked their new camp. Her brothers were out on missions, including Matt who their dad had agreed to let be a runner for Boon and Tector - two Beserkers she had finally learned the names of.

She still thought her dad had been too soft on Pope's old gang. Maybe now the ex-con was gone, Tom felt responsible for them. Grace still didn't trust them. But her father, for whatever insane reason, obviously did enough to let Matt go on a mission with them.

Ben and Hal were out scouting nearby areas to map out a safe route to Charleston. Grace really didn't know what to expect when they got there. She figured their fearless leader wasn't sure either, but Weaver's words after Jimmy's funeral stuck with her. She wanted to keep going, even if it was getting harder and harder to. Jimmy wouldn't have given up; he'd have volunteered for whatever Captain Weaver thought was best and he would have fought with whatever he had left.

She reached for Jimmy's compass. Her heart ached whenever she thought about him. Sometimes when she closed her eyes, she could picture him sitting with her, smiling at her. Talking to her. Other times, it was like he had gone scouting and he'd be back any day now.

Her attention soon turned to the whooping and hollering coming from the edge of camp. A small group had gathered and the lively hum of voices perked her interest. Curious, she pocketed the compass and headed over, realising the commotion was Boon and Tector returning from their mission. They certainly seemed happy with themselves, she noted as she watched them laugh and high-five their way through the crowd.

So where was Matt? She spotted a short figure trailing the two men through the mass of people. She could just about make him out. Then the state of him sent shockwaves through her. She almost screamed.

"Matt?!"

She broke through the crowd to see her little brother covered head-to-toe in blood.

"Are you okay?"

Matt grinned up at her. "It was awesome, Grace! Wait until you hear!"

"Is this blood?" she demanded, grabbing at his red-stained clothes.

"Relax, G!" Boon hollered smugly. "That's skitter blood! Little MnM did us a solid and led two skitters right into Tec's line of fire! Man, it was dope."

Grace blinked at the young man. He was a few years older than her, but clearly an idiot.

"Are you kidding me?"

"He weren't in any danger," Tector, the older of the two, tried to reassure her. But Grace didn't care what he had to say.

"I knew my dad was wrong to trust you people," she snapped, grabbing Matt's hand. "We're going to see Doctor Glass so she can check you over."

As she pulled him towards the med bus, Matt snatched his hand away. "I'm fine, let go of me!"

She ignored him. "If Dad sees you like this, he'll freak."

He whined and fought the whole way, but Grace had finally got him onto the steps of the med bus.

"Doctor Glass?"

As she stepped onto the bus, she found the doctor breaking away from another figure. It was Tom. They moved away from each other awkwardly, startled by her sudden appearance. Grace stared at them, unsure what to say, what to think.

"Grace," Anne cleared her throat. "Everything okay?"

"Um." Grace had forgotten everything that had happened up to this point. The image of the two of them was all she could think about now. She knew they were good friends, they spent a lot of time together, maybe even flirted a little. But kissing? At least that's what it seemed like they were doing.

Tom stepped closer to her, expecting her to say something - anything - but Matt couldn't hide behind her forever. She wasn't sure if Matt had seen what she had, but the subject quickly changed as soon as their father saw him.

"Matt!? What happened?"

"I'm fine!" Matt cried, frustrated. "I helped kill two skitters, that's all!"

"What do you mean 'helped'?"

"Apparently those Beserkers had him lead skitters into a trap," Grace replied matter-of-factly. She watched Tom's expression harden. "I told you those Beserkers are bad news, even without Pope."

Her father's jaw stiffened. "Noted. They'll be disciplined. Come on, Matthew."

Tom led a huffy Matt back outside. "Great," the boy said sarcastically as Tom dragged him away. "Thanks, Grace!"

Grace pushed back her long waves of hair as Matt stormed off the med bus. "Now he hates me too. Really hoped I had longer before that kicked in."

Anne smiled sympathetically at her. "He doesn't hate you. Trust me. I've been there."

"You have?"

Anne's dark eyes glanced downwards, her long hair falling over her cheek. "My son - Sammy. He had a little bit of a temper sometimes. He was a little younger than Matt when…" She closed her eyes briefly.

"Sorry." Grace had known Anne had lost family in the initial invasion, but she didn't realise she had lost a young son.

"How are you doing, Grace?" she smiled kindly at her, changing the subject. "I know you've had a hard time lately...since Jimmy..."

She felt something grip her heart at the mention of him. "You know how it goes. Some days are bad. Others are just okay. It's weird not having him here."

"Never gets any easier, losing people."

"I think it gets worse." She looked down at the table across from them, the table where Jimmy died days earlier. "At first I blamed myself. But Jimmy would have died anyway."

Anne's lips parted in surprise. "You don't believe that?"

"People die in war," Grace retorted. "There's nothing I can do to change it. In this life...people die. You know that better than anyone."

Anne's brow furrowed with concern. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine." Grace forced a smile which quickly faded. "I always am."

Grace spent the rest of the day floating between people and groups, offering her help restocking food supplies, unpacking ammo, or refilling vehicles. Everyone she spoke to smiled politely and declined. It was as if they sensed the black cloud over her, following her wherever she went. If they were trying to be nice, it backfired. With nothing to keep her busy, her thoughts drifted back on to Jimmy. At least he wasn't the only thing on her mind now. Whatever she had witnessed between Doctor Glass and her father in the med bus was now intruding into her thoughts like an unwelcome guest in her brain.

She was starting to think maybe she had imagined it. She wasn't certain exactly what she saw. It could have been anything; it didn't have to be romantic. But what if it was? The thought of her father being involved with another woman was so wrong to her, so alien...it had always been him and her mother...until it wasn't. She supposed she never considered he would find love again, if that was even what it was.

She tried to ignore the tightness in her chest as she wrapped her coat around herself, watching everyone scuttle around her with purpose, avoiding making eye contact with her. It then crossed Grace's mind that perhaps they weren't ignoring her to be polite. Perhaps they believed Pope's coarse slurs that she and Ben were the perpetrators in Jimmy's death. She supposed it could look that way; she thought the rumours about her being changed by the aliens had died down since Fitchburg, but with Tom's recent eyeball 'bug' and Ben's ever growing assemblage of alien abilities, suspicion was once again centered on the Mason family. The idea that anyone could believe that made her sick. Had her family not given enough to the fight to win these people over? Apparently not to people like Pope. She was relieved he was gone; not that he hadn't left a mess in his wake.

"Hey."

Grace raised her head to see Casey standing in front of her. She was wrapped up in a grey coat and bobble hat, holding an axe in her hand.

"You look like you could use a break," she said.

"A break from what?" Grace scoffed. "No one will let me help them."

"You can help me," Casey offered. "Collecting firewood. You in?"

Grace shrugged. She hadn't had any better offers today. She took the axe from Casey's hand and followed her towards a wooded area beside the town.

"So where's Etta?" Grace asked, gently swinging the axe by her side as they approached some healthy looking birch trees.

"Crazy Lee offered to watch her," Casey replied, glancing up at one of the trees.

Grace recognised the name. "You really trust those Beserkers, huh?"

There was a short beat of silence as Casey turned around to look at Grace. Her face was tired, but sympathetic. "Grace, I was wrong about Pope." Grace noticed her clench her fists, her jaw going rigid. "So wrong. I'm sorry for what he did. What he said about Jimmy…"

"You don't have to apologise," Grace said softly. "You didn't know the whole story. I shouldn't have been a bitch to you."

Casey shook her head. "I should have known. I feel like he played me. I really thought I got his whole deal, and then I find out he let those things happen to Maggie…" She closed her eyes, sighing. "Hence why I'm in the mood to do some chopping." They both chuckled softly. "But Crazy Lee, Tector, Lyle...I know they're good people. The Beserkers are my friends."

Grace's amusement soon dissipated. "You can't be serious?" she scoffed, staring at her wide-eyed. "You saw what they did with my little brother this morning, right?"

"I did, and Boon and Tector were out of line. But they had good intentions."

"No offence, but when my nine year old brother is covered in skitter blood, I don't really care about good intentions."

"I get it. You're right. They screwed up. But trust me when I say they're not like Pope."

"How do you know that, Casey? They chose to follow that asshole into battle. They clearly don't have the best judgement."

"They also chose not to follow him out the door." She took a step towards her. "They chose to stay with the Second Mass."

Grace chewed the inside of her lip. She couldn't fault her on that. They made the smart decision to stick with Weaver and the resistance. But they still had a long way to go to break out of that unruly Beserker mindset.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Grace asked with a frown.

Casey sighed softly. "I don't know."

Grace watched her expression, noting the hurt in her friend's eyes. "I'm sorry he played you. It sucks to lose a friend, even if it was Pope."

Casey smiled forlornly at her, then she looked up at one of the birch trees beside her. "This looks like a good one. Why don't you take a couple swings at it?"

Grace nodded. She stepped closer to the tree, took a deep breath, and swung. The blade met the wood with a satisfying blow, the bark absorbing all of her force. It felt pretty good.

She smiled at Casey who returned with an encouraging grin. She grunted as she tore the axe out of the trunk and raised it again. This time she pictured Pope's smug face as she swung, remembered his harsh words, how he refused to give her Jimmy's compass. The bark cracked, splitting. She swung again. She thought of that red-eyed skitter; Jimmy bleeding out in the med bus. She almost cried out as the axe punctured the wood. She swung again and again, until the tree fell down to earth with a loud thud.

"Timber," she panted with a smirk.

That evening Grace used the fresh firewood and warmed herself by the bonfire, watching the flames dance under her fingertips and trying not to let her thoughts drift onto Jimmy again, failing miserably. She was relieved when her father joined her, despite his weary expression.

"Has your day been as riveting as mine?" she asked him with a twisted smile.

He released a heavy sigh, rubbing his hands over the fire. "Not without its fair share of drama, that's for sure."

She raised her brows. "Matt?"

He nodded. "Think I embarrassed him."

"And what did you sentence Boon and Tector to?"

"Sanitation until further notice."

"Ouch."

"Maybe they'll listen to orders next time."

"Hate to say I told you so, but…"

He turned to her. "I know you don't trust them-"

She scoffed. "Damn right I don't."

"-But you should trust me. I know what I'm doing - we need them."

Her gaze returned to the flames flickering in front of her. "I do trust you." She paused before side-eyeing him. "I know you wouldn't hide anything from me…" She said the last part with a little more emphasis. Tom picked up the hint.

"About what you saw earlier..."

"You and Anne..." Grace said, unsure if she was sad or angry or happy. "How long?"

"Not long," Tom assured her. "It's...new."

"Can't believe I didn't see it," Grace said quietly. "All that time you spent together. I guess I just never considered it. You being with anyone other than Mom."

There was an awful beat of silence as they looked at each other.

"Grace…"

Before he could add anything, they were interrupted by engine noises in the distance. Hal and Ben. They glanced back at each other before making their way over to meet the boys as they rode back into camp. But they weren't alone. At least half a dozen others were with them on their own quad bikes. Mostly young boys.

"What do we have here?" Weaver's voice sounded behind Grace as he took in the sight of all these strangers.

"Found them holed up in a warehouse," replied Hal, shutting off his engine. "Half starved. No adults. Maybe we can help them out."

But Weaver wasn't listening. He was clearly distracted by something behind Hal. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Jeanne?"

Grace's gaze was stolen by a beautiful young woman, dark-haired and blue-eyed. She had pushed through the crowd to come face-to-face with Captain Weaver. The captain himself was in stunned disbelief.

The girl - Jeanne - was in just as much shock as Weaver, tears spilling from those ocean blue eyes. Grace thought the name sounded familiar. Then Jeanne said something that made it all click into place.

"Dad."

They embraced, the crowd around them speechless as they watched the two cry happily in each other's arms. Grace didn't know much about Weaver's family, except that they were separated and presumed dead. She remembered months ago, when the captain had run off to his old house in Allston. The place went up in flames right in front of her eyes, along with any trace of Weaver's family. She remembered the concrete footprint outside. 'Sophia, 8.' But no Jeanne.

"Well this is a day full of surprises," announced Hal. Grace looked over at him. Another teenage girl stepped off from the back of his bike. Petite, dark blonde. Her jaw dropped when she saw the girl's face.

Standing in front of her was her old school friend, Zoe Maddison.