January 7, 1994

10PM.

He's late again, Harlan thought to himself as he walked along the mall's lower eastern roof. His rifle felt sturdy in his hands overlooking the half-finished housing development that will never be, coated in a gentle layer of snow. Beneath him, some small clusters of the dead milled about in the parking lot. Harlan wasn't sure if they were aware of him or not. He shivered like a leaf as a stiff breeze wound past his jacketed torso.

The door creaked open and he saw a familiar, wiry silhouette appear.

"About goddamned time!" He yelled as they fell into each others arms and kissed. Immediately after, Harlan lit two cigarettes. One for him, and one for Anthony to hold so he looked cool in front of the other kids. Anthony took a drag.

"Bad day?" Anthony nodded, exhaled, and broke into a coughing fit. "See, if you smoked more you wouldn't cough as much."

Anthony laughed as his partner puffed like a professional.

"Sure thing, Philip Morris." Harlan's turn to chuckle. "And yeah, it was a bad day. One of the kids hurled in the fountain, so we had to take it offline and drain it and scrub it then cycle clean water through the pumps, drain it again and that's when we found the mold." Anthony took another puff and coughed, louder this time.

"Everything alright?" George called from his post on the roof above them.

"Right as rain!" Harlan shot back. "Tony's just out here for a smoke."

"Alright, just don't fall off."

"That was one time George!" Anthony shouted back. Some of the dead in the parking lot walked over, but turned away realizing there was no way to reach them. It was a strange dance they did that Harlan noticed over the days and weeks on patrol.

George waved the two off and vanished behind the cusp of the roof.

"Someone's always got your back around here." Anthony muttered. "How much for a little privacy?"

"How much time ya got?" Harlan grabbed Anthony by his boiler suit and pulled him into a quick kiss. Anthony replied by diving back in for more, but only for a moment.

"Someone's frisky tonight." He joked as the pair split up.

"Please, I'll take anyone if it meant a little warmth up here in the crow's nest." Harlan took another long drag of his cigarette and studied the embers.

"Ha, even Meghan?"

"Please, she wouldn't even remember if, and I mean if, that ever happens."

"Oh so there's a chance?"

"Yeah, in hell." Harlan mumbled.

"Might be too late by then to go back in the closet, hon."

Harlan took another hard drag and spat on the roof, dropping his cigarette near enough to it and grinding it with the toe of his boot. Anthony similarly flicked his off the roof.

"I really don't know how you smoke those things."

"Years of practice." Harlan looked all around before planting one last kiss on Anthony's cheek. "Stay warm babe, I'll be inside a little after midnight." Anthony began walking back to the door when Harlan stopped him. "And hey, I love you."

Anthony smiled. "I love you too, Harley."

The two kissed one last time before Anthony disappeared inside, leaving Harlan alone on the roof. He watched the small clusters of dead move around, sometimes a lone zombie would break from its group and meet up with another, sometimes the groups would merge and break apart, he swore there must be some kind of logic to the way they moved.

They used to be human, after all. All that brain space and nothing's ticking?

Harlan did a lap around the roof, then another, and another. Periodically him and George would chat about the weather, or the latest haul from one of their scavenging teams, but the next two hours passed miserably slow for him.

Harlan's watch chirped at 1AM. He waved off George, greeted his replacement, and stepped into the relative warmth of the Crossroads. Inside, he navigated the long beige hall and popped in through the back of the hair salon, where he found Laureen working on the day's laundry in a large sink. Her crucifix hung low from her neck.

"Well hey there hon," she began, "All's quiet?"

"Quiet as can be." Harlan leaned against the sink next to her and crossed his arms. "All's clean?"

"Getting there." She said as she furiously scrubbed a small shirt. "Jake had a little accident near the fountain. Those poor cleaning men sure had their hands full."

"Sounds nasty." A heartbeat came and went. "How has Junior been?"

"He's… better." She said, choosing her words. "He still isn't talking about mom, I mean your sister. I mean, Hilda." She plopped a clump of wet clothing onto the washboard. "But he's playing with the other kids, he's keeping up in class, the kid's resilient."

"Yeah, I wish he didn't have to be." Harlan pursed his lips and looked at the floor. "Where's he at now?"

"Sleeping, Harley." She laughed. "We ain't all night owls like someone I know." She raised her eyebrows at him. Harlan laughed too.

"Yeah, yeah, blame biology. I was born this way." He leaned back onto the sink until his head touched the wall. "I used to pull all-nighters back when I lived in the city. Long nights out, long shifts at the station, I never needed much sleep."

"If only we were all so lucky." Laureen continued churning and mashing the clothes until she felt satisfied they were clean. "I'll be here another hour, you don't have to stick around."

"If you hate me then just say so." Harlan got up and began to walk out as Laureen laughed some more. Was he genuinely funny? Or was she just tired? Regardless, he waved goodbye and wished her a good night.

The lights were dim throughout the mall and the muzak was (mercifully) put to bed. Harlan walked around the upper level, the low din of the dead's fists against plexiglass didn't register to him at this point.

The Crossroads Mall was Harlan's home now. He knew every tile of linoleum, every tacky store sign, every step on the escalators. He also knew where folks tended not to go. He quickly made his way to the empty store across from the salon and snuck into the back room, where he found Anthony sitting in a plastic chair listening to something on his CD player. The door opening spooked him, but once Anthony saw who was walking through, he perked right up.

"About goddamned time." He joked as the two men embraced in a kiss. The two pulled apart. "Did you see anyone on your way over?"

"Just Laureen, why?"

Anthony sighed and sat back down. "I've been looking for Tara. Scav team Tara, not food prep Tara."

"Really? Why?" Harlan paused. "I thought she played for her own team." He laughed.

Anthony did not.

"Her and I chat pretty much like clockwork. Five o'clock every day when I would clean up Seat Yourself. But she hasn't been around since Tuesday, and no one else has seen her." Harlan had a blank look. "I'm worried, is all. Crossroads isn't all that big, and no one has seen her."

"I'm sure she's somewhere."

"Thanks." Anthony rolled his eyes.

"Well, I can ask around. But maybe she just left without telling anyone?" Harlan threw up his hands. "Carr just fucking vanished on us a week after we got here. Not that I miss that bitch."

"Maybe, but maybe not. She was… privy to things."

"What sort of things?"

"Plans. Happenings. That sort of thing."

"I'm on the scav team too, honey." Harlan sat next to Anthony and wrapped an arm around him. "And I haven't heard a peep about her or anything else going on."

"I'm worried." Anthony held his knees together with his hands.

"Don't be." Harlan patted Anthony's back. "Or, do be, because I'm going out this Sunday."

"Where to?"

"West Point, Meg told me the other team may have spotted some good loot southeast of the commercial strip." Anthony's head hit the wall and he groaned.

"Not West Point. Anywhere but there." He shot Harlan a pained glance.

"I'll be fine, I've gone there a dozen times anyway. I know it almost as well as Rosewood."

"That's why I'm worried babe, sometimes you get a little… overconfident."

"Overconfident? I'm scared shitless when I'm out there. I'll be fine."

"Can you promise me? Right now? That you'll be fine?"

"I- I-" Harlan stammered. "I... promise, as best as I can, that I'll be fine."

Anthony wasn't convinced.

"I can't promise anything when we go out there, you know that."

"You can't promise anything, Fairweather can't promise the rationing will improve, no one can guarantee a damn thing."

"Why are you being so difficult over this?" Harlan pulled away from his partner. "He likes me, he lets me go out on these missions. I sneak back all those dance magazines you're such a fan of."

"And I appreciate it, truly, but I'm still worried about the state of things."

"The state of things? What state?" Harlan waved around. "We're safe. Junior's safe. And he's learning, he's living a normal childhood in all this hell."

"As normal as you can get," Anthony admitted, "But he still seems shell-shocked by… everything that's happened."

"Well, wouldn't you be too?"

"Yeah, but-"

"But what?" Harlan cut him off.

Anthony felt his face flare ever so slightly. "But, if you'll let me finish, I don't like it here."

"That's because you're cleaning up other people's crap. People hated their jobs before the dead, and they'll hate 'em after."

"So you only like it because you've got your cushy patrol gig?" Anthony retorted.

"It helps, yeah, but things aren't that bad here. We're in a literal hell with the literal walking dead and Junior's biggest concern right now is what book to read. I think we're doing well for ourselves."

"Are we? Or are you?" Anthony stood up. "I'm tired. I'm going back to my bunk. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Wha?" Harlan held his hands out as Anthony left. "Prick." He muttered as the door shut. If Anthony heard, he didn't react.

Harlan stood up and brushed some invisible dirt from his pants. He followed the halls from the back room back to the office he and Junior called home. He stirred as he walked in.

"Tio?"

"Yes, it's me." Harlan took his jacket off and hung it next to the door. He closed the door and sat next to Junior. "Sorry I woke you up. How was school?"

"Good. Jake threw up and it was gross." He rubbed his eye and turned over. "I'm sleepy."

"I'm sleepy too, kiddo." Harlan threw together the meager bedding he had become accustomed to and tucked himself in. "Hey, Junior?"

"Yeah?" He replied from the cusp of consciousness.

"I'm going out again Sunday, so Miss Laureen will be watching you again."

"Okay."

"Good night, Junior."

"Good night, tio."

Sleep took over the two of them.