CHAPTER THREE

Sage

Raisin rumbled along the dirt road towards the city of Atlanta. As the closest landmark to the camp where the group was staked out, making their living for the time being, Atlanta was where the group had been making their routine supply runs, whenever they needed them. They always liked to go and get enough stuff for a week. Canned goods, medical items, and—if they were lucky—ammunition was the top items they would hope to find, but, as Sage had learned quickly, not everything went the way you hoped during a zombie apocalypse.

The silence was deafening. Sage glanced over to Allie, her feet kicked up on the dashboard. She was leaned back in the passenger seat, gazing out the window. In all honesty, Sage thought she could've been asleep, but he knew her better than that.

"So . . . got something you wanna talk about?" Sage asked, returning his eyes to the pavement before him, keeping driving in a straight line. He heard Allie stir next to him, and before she could speak, he added, "And please—the dash?"

With a groan, Allie removed her shoes from the dashboard, but he could make out the hint of a smirk on her lips.

She had done it on purpose.

"In all honesty . . . no. I mean yes, but . . . no."

Sage nodded in mock understanding. "That makes complete sense."

"I mean," Allie started again, crossing her arms across her chest, "there's stuff I want to get off my chest, but there's no one to hear me out about it."

Sage let out a gasp of surprise—albeit sarcastic. "What am I, chopped liver?"

Allie snapped her eyes to him. "You really wanna hear it?"

Sage chuckled. "I told you—and pretty much everyone else in the group—that if you ever needed someone to talk to, I'm here for that. Don't you remember?"

"Well, yes, but . . ." Allie trailed off into silence, returning her gaze out the window. "I've always just figured whenever someone says that it's to make a good impression. You go to them with your problems, and they fall on deaf ears."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Sage said, "You sound as if you've had experience with that."

It was Allie's turn to chuckle now. "Welcome to life as a Bloom twin." Uh oh, Sage thought. Here we go.

"My brother has always been the one to say, 'Whenever you need something, Allie, just come to me and we can hash it out.'" Allie deepened her voice in a mock imitation of Alex as she spoke. "Then I go to him with my problems, 'hash them out,' and boom, nothing changes." Allie shook her head. "Sometimes I think he's one of the biggest fakers out there. He's not much of a leader, I can tell you that much."

Sage thought on his next words carefully. As a skilled mediator, you needed to stay neutral and not pick sides. And, while he did come down on Alex's side more often than Allie's, he knew that there was some dissension between the two, with blame levied at both parties. While Alex did care for Allie, he often let his care overcome all else, making her feel somewhat lesser than him.

"Allie," Sage started, "I do think you are a little too hard on your brother." Allie opened her mouth to retort, but Sage held up a hand. "Let me finish, please. I know that it can be hard when he gives you an order, but he is still the leader here. So when he gives an order, we all have to fall in line."

"And who exactly made him the leader, huh?" Without giving Sage an opportunity to respond, she added, "Himself. He crowned himself ruler of our little community, and now acts like he's a king or something. It's not right that he can just tell us all what to do. People's lives are at stake. What if he chose to send out that little dorky guy, Doug, on a supply run? He'd get eaten by a walker, no doubt."

She gestured to herself and Sage. "But people like us, we're good at this. Good at supply runs. We make a hell of a team, you and me, I think that . . ." At the point, Allie slowly trailed off, and stopped talking. Sage narrowed his eyes, glancing to Allie.

"Allie, what's the m—" That's when he noticed that Allie was . . . blushing? The athletic, well-built, no-nonsense Allie Bloom was . . . blushing? Why— Oh, Sage realized as he saw Allie nervously glance to him.

"I just . . . I think that you would be a better leader than him." Allie shook her head, as if she could make the blush go away. "That's all." For some reason, Sage didn't buy that as the only reason. Does Allie . . . have a crush on me?

Well, that made things awkward. For starters, Sage was not interested in women. Since he was twelve, he knew he was attracted to other guys. As a matter of fact, that was what had led to his father Oliver backhanding him across the face and sending him packing. If it wasn't for his mother Willow's kind, loving care—and her insistence that they move back to her parents' hometown—Sage didn't know what would've happened to him.

In high school, Sage had experimented with girls, if you would, but he knew almost instantaneously that he wasn't into them in that way. He'd never really found the right guy after that, and at this point, well, choices were few and far between, and quite honestly, it was not the proper time or place for such a thing. His priority was Annie, and nothing else.

But knowing—or, well, suspecting—that Allie had a crush on him did make things a little difficult, if not uncomfortable. He shook his head himself, trying to think of a way to get his mind off of it and onto something else. Thankfully, that opportunity presented itself almost immediately.

There was a roadblock.

"What in the—" Sage started, trailing off as Allie focused her eyes before them. Sage brought Raisin to a halt, putting it in park before turning off the engine. This was no traditional roadblock—it was a traffic jam. Cars, trucks, SUVs, eighteen-wheelers—a wide assortment of vehicles clustered together, clogging up the road into Atlanta.

"That is not good," Allie muttered, and Sage nodded his agreement. "Could we take a detour?" Allie asked.

Sage shook his head. "No. The nearest one will take a chunk outta the car's fuel. We can't risk it." He climbed from the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him as he raised up his metal baseball bat, clutching it tightly in both hands. Allie stepped from the car, pulling her pistol, and checking it. Sage glanced to her warily. "No guns." Allie raised an eyebrow and Sage nodded, "Too loud." With caution, he glanced back down the roadway. "I have a feeling we're not alone here."

Allie nodded and holstered her sidearm, instead withdrawing a hunting knife from her belt. It was once her father's, but she had been given it after his death. It was one of the most sentimental belongings of hers, and one she would always cherish.

The pair crept through the cluster of cars and trucks clogging the highway into Atlanta. As they came upon a silver Honda Civic, Allie peeked in the back window. It was empty of all life, but there was some stuff inside. As she scanned it, she mused, "I wonder how all these cars came to be stopped here?" She then glanced to Sage, and then followed his gaze at the rest of the cars. "Or where the people who drove them are?"

Sage bit his lip, a bit anxious. "I'm not sure I want to know." He kept moving forward as Allie tried the door handle to the car. Locked.

Muttering a curse, she turned and kept moving down the highway, on the opposite side of the car of Sage. They continued this procedure for a handful of other cars, but most seemed to be bare of anything noteworthy. Sage caught sight of a rather new Ford truck and felt a grin come to his face once he noticed something in the truck's bed. "Allie—I think I found a score."

He jogged towards the truck, his smile coming full form as he let out a delightful chuckle. "Jackpot," he said victoriously, heaving two red canisters from the truck. He turned around, hoisting them up for her to see. "Gasoline."

Allie likewise grinned. "Hell yeah." She moved to his side, seeing two more identical canisters in the bed. As she grabbed them both, she gestured back to Sage's car. "Let's drop these then come back and search."

Sage nodded, leading the way. Once they reached Raisin, he sat one canister down and pulled his car keys from his pocket, manually unlocking the trunk; he had a key fob, but best to not use it and risk alerting whatever walkers might be lurking nearby. As he sat his gas canisters inside, he rounded the corner of the car and Allie sat hers in. Before either could speak, a click sounded from the convoy of parked vehicles. Both froze as their eyes flicked down to the source of the sound—

It was a young man, who looked to be a few years younger than Allie, standing firm and still, a semi-automatic rifle pressed to his shoulder. "Don't move," the man said equally as firm, and Sage shared a quick glance with Allie. Neither needed to speak.

They were in quite a predicament now.

Elsa

The chirping of the birds was a nice alternative, Elsa Armington figured, to . . . well, really anything else this world had to offer. In the current situation of things, pretty much anything from the "old world," as she liked to call it, would be much preferred to pretty much anything from this new world.

Glancing up from the book she had had her nose stuck in for the past hour, Elsa let an innocent grin overtake her face, closing her light blue eyes to soak in the warmth that the sun provided. Moments like this, that let Elsa escape from the world around her, was what she longed for. She didn't have to worry about mindless zombies eating other people or anything like that—she was just able to absorb the peace of the world around her.

And then, just like that, Elsa's peace was disturbed. "Aah!" she shrieked when a force ran into her, and she fell from her seated position to the grassy terrain beneath her. Her eyes tore open, and she felt her heart leap into her throat until she realized the force that had made her stumble back.

"Annie!" Ali's voice called from a few meters away, and immediately once Elsa's eyes fell upon her she could see that the young woman was terribly embarrassed. "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her for Sage, and she ran off, so I tried to keep up with her and she ran too far ahead and I—"

"Relax, Ali, it's okay," Elsa said, her smile slowly returning. She felt her metabolism slowly stop its mad race, soothing and finally settling down. If the biggest scare she'd face all day was a four-year-old girl diving atop her, well, she'd settle for that over really anything else.

"What are you up to, Annie?" Elsa asked, beaming to the little girl. Annie grinned sheepishly, scratching her coily dark hair abashedly.

"Well . . . Ali was being my horsie, but Uncle Sage made her stop." As if she was being subtle and Ali couldn't hear her, she leaned forward and said in a more shushed tone, "I think he's afraid she might hurt herself. She's kind of old, you know."

"Oh really?" Elsa asked, her grin widening. She could see Ali grow even redder. "I don't think Ali's that old. She's barely older than your Uncle Sage, you know."

Annie's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "Uncle Sage is already old! That doesn't help," she said, letting out a childish chuckle.

"I'll be sure to tell him you said that," Elsa said between laughs, as both she and Ali chuckled at the girl's youthful sense of humor.

"I hope we didn't bother you," Ali said, still visibly worried that her and Annie's intrusion may have perturbed Elsa.

"Nonsense." Elsa grinned, giving Ali a knowing smile. "Don't apologize. I'm happy to see you both anytime."

Ali smiled back. "Thank you," she said, before taking Annie's hand. "Come on, Annie. Let's leave Elsa alone so she can get back to her book."

Annie sighed. "Okay. Bye-bye, Elsie!"

Elsa chuckled at the little girl's shortened name for her. "Bye-bye, Annie! Bye, Ali!" The three waved farewell before they disappeared down the forested path. Elsa laughed to herself again, turning back to her book, before a rustle sounded in the leaves next to her. Before she could even acknowledge the movement, really, a figure swooped in upon her.

This one, though, did not make Elsa squirm out of fear or surprise. One split-second look told her who this was, and if she had any doubts, the quick kiss planted on her lips sealed the deal. Elsa let out a sheepish chuckle, as she pursed her lips and ran a hand through her short blonde hair. "Dayana," she said softly.

The dark-skinned woman before her gave her a knowing grin, her plump lips still moist from the quick kiss. "Elsa, sweetie. You missed me?"

Elsa felt a blush come to her cheeks. "Of course. Although I was getting into my book a little bit, but your presence is always welcome."

Dayana Scarlett chuckled. "Please, Elsa, I know that."

As Elsa looked at the woman she loved, she could still not believe that she was here. It seemed like forever ago that everything had gone to crap, but such was not the case. She had been deserted by her parents about a month before the virus broke out; when whispers and rumblings of a potential widespread virus made it to the public, the Armingtons—hungry for wealth and security—elected to move to an island in the Pacific where they could leave in peace, alone and separated from the rest of the world.

Including their daughter. The thought still made Elsa shudder in sadness. All her life, she had been taught to be loving and considerate, having been brought up under a Catholic education, but the very people that had drilled that into her were the ones to abandon her when she needed them—her parents—the most.

Nevertheless, this betrayal had not torn Elsa's good spirit asunder. She still had the strong wills and morals that she had grown up with, although she had grown close to losing her drive when she was left to wander the streets of New York alone as the virus had begun to break out.

That was when Dayana had found her and invigorated by the young girl's fire, took her under her wing. True, she was eight years Elsa's senior (thirty-one to her twenty-three years of age), she felt inexplicably drawn to the young woman. And while her youthful innocence and desire to look for the good in others and the world did drive Dayana insane at times, she would not have it any other way.

Dayana herself had lost hope long ago, despising her parents—if you could call them that—since a young age. She ran away at the age of eleven, taking to thievery to survive, and she eventually joined the White Monkeys gang, becoming of their best members. She became a skilled shot, a charismatic seductress, and sly thief over the course of the years she worked for the Monkeys.

Then the apocalypse broke out—realizing that the other gangsters cared only for themselves and could care less about her wellbeing, Dayana quickly stole a pair of Berettas and a Harley Davidson and sped away. But before she made it out of New York, she found Elsa, and the two had become bound together ever since.

Dayana made sure to never let Elsa know she had been apart of a gang, or any of the other terrible things she had done. She feared that such a bombshell would drive the young, hopeful, and innocent girl away from her. That could not happen. Not only did Elsa need her, but . . . Dayana needed Elsa. They kept each other anchored in place, that much Dayana knew.

Dayana slowly let her eyes drop to the book in Elsa's lap. "So . . . whatcha reading?"

Elsa held up the book. "Crime and Punishment. Mr. McAdams let me borrow it. Well, I should say Sahale gave it to me—Mr. McAdams isn't . . . well, the most outgoing person."

Dayana snorted. "You can say that again. That old geezer—"

"Dayana!" Elsa exclaimed. "Don't call him that. He's a sweet old man, just . . . he probably has a bad past. A bad history." She quickly got quiet. "I think we all do, really."

The last words sent a shot to Dayana's heart, and her morale sank. "Don't say that, honey," Dayana said, placing a hand over Elsa's. "The past is the past, remember that. We have to focus on the here and now. Otherwise . . . we could not have a future." Dayana's voice got stern. "Do you understand me?"

Elsa nodded. "Y-yes. Yes, I do."

Dayana smiled. "Good."

Footsteps sounded next to them, and they both glanced up to see Alex standing there. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" he asked, his eyes twitching from one to the other from beneath his bangs.

Dayana resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Elsa said, "No, not at all. What's up, Alex?"

"Well," Alex started, brushing the hair from his eyes, "Sahale told me about him giving you Crime and Punishment and that you liked the classics, so I thought I'd pass this onto you." He raised up a worn paperback book, with the cover emblazoned by a picture of a massive alien vehicle and the words The War of the Worlds printed across the top. "I—uh—know it's not really the same genre, but I know you're into pretty much anything, so I thought I'd just see if you wanted to check it out?"

He thought Elsa hadn't heard the last part of what he'd said because from the second he produced the book before him, her jaw had dropped and her eyes had widened. "Oh my gosh . . . I've actually wanted to read this for so long but had never gotten around to it!" She took the book from his hands and smiled up to him. "Thank you . . . thank you so much!"

Alex smiled and nodded. "Don't mention it. I hope you like it." He glanced to Dayana, and his demeanor faltered a bit as he realized she didn't seem as enthused about it. His smile quickly faded away and he added, "Well . . . I'll leave you two to it then." With another nod, he turned and walked away.

Elsa heard Dayana mutter under her breath, and she sighed. "What now?"

"It's just . . . that guy. He gets under my skin. Mr. Bossy Pants with an attitude all the time. Honestly, I'd rather his sister be the leader over him."

Elsa shushed her. "Dayana—he might hear you!"

"Who cares if he does? I'd tell him to his face, but . . . well, for your sake, I haven't yet."

Elsa sighed again. "Dayana, I . . . I know you don't trust everyone—" Dayana rolled her eyes, and Elsa corrected herself. "Okay, I know you don't trust anyone, but please, just . . . try and get along with people? You'll see that they all aren't bad and out for themselves."

Dayana exhaled sharply. "Maybe . . . but just remember, Elsa, it's the people that seem the most harmless or friendly that you've gotta look out for."

Elsa squirmed nervously. In her heart, she felt a pang that Dayana might be speaking the truth—but even further down, she worked hard to tell herself that she was dead wrong.

A/N: Here's chapter 3! We've now been introduced to all the submitted OCs thus far, but we'll get to know them all even better in the next chapter! Thank you all again for your submissions and for being patient as I work to get these chapters out. Knowing that you are all reading and giving me feedback is always helpful and really what keeps me going in writing.

As always, if you have any ideas for the story or your characters feel free to send them my way, and if you would like to submit an OC shoot me a PM with the form of your character and I'll be sure to work them in! Thank you all for reading. Until next time.