"Get up."

Veronica felt something heavy land on her stomach and she sputtered. The bed next to her was empty, meaning that Archie was probably already up. This didn't surprise her; he had taken to getting up early recently and working out with Elio, Nick, and Joaquin.

"Just because it's the end of the world doesn't mean we skip leg day!" He'd told Veronica in a cheery voice.

God, she wished she could have a modicum of his happiness.

The darkness continued to wash over Veronica like a black abyss. How could everyone just continue on like it was all okay? Like they weren't trapped here, in the woods, and would eventually run out of food? Each day, the hope they could go home slipped more and more through their fingers.

This room was safe, at least. Veronica knew it well. It was the room she'd grown up in during all the weekend adventures up here. It wasn't as good as her bedroom in Riverdale, where she'd left Betty (and the guilt about that was not wavering in the slightest), but it was the next best thing.

Veronica craved consistency like nothing else right now.

"Mr. Lodge?" Josie wearily asked, yawning and sitting up in her bed. The dawn was just creeping in. She usually got up around 9, or what Veronica assumed was 9ish, to do some meditations, but it was an hour or two earlier.

"Go back to sleep," Hiram said in a silky-smooth voice, "But you, young lady, get up. Put on some clothes you don't mind getting dirty."

"Dad?" Veronica asked, confused, her mind stilly groggy with sleep.

"Mija, do as I say. Please." He said, though his tone indicated it was not a request, "There's coffee next to you." He added, motioning to the steaming mug she hadn't noticed until now.

Then he was gone.

Veronica rose slowly, wanting to stay in bed, but knew her father would come and drag her out if she disobeyed.

From the back of the wardrobe, she dug out some old clothes from a few summers ago, back before her true sense of fashion had kicked in. A dusty pair of sneakers. A boot-cut black pair of sweatpants. An oversized hoodie with some cringe-worthy saying on it.

She threw her hair in a messy bun and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and shuddered. She looked like a disgraced celebrity checking into rehab.

She took a pause on each step of the staircase to drink her coffee. Step, coffee. Step, coffee. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

By the time she was at the bottom of the stairs, the coffee was gone and Veronica was very awake and very angry to be woken up and forced to do anything.

She set the mug in the kitchen sink and slug the duffle bag that her father had chosen to awaken her with on the kitchen counter.

"What, praytell, requires us up so ungodly early?" Veronica said, her eyes narrowed.

"You have been pouting in your room for far too long," Hiram said simply, "And there are some things you need to do."

He got up, and though it wasn't explicitly said, Veronica knew she wanted him to follow.

"Like what? Laundry? Housework? Just tell me what I can do so I can go back to bed," She grumbled. Sure, she hadn't been the most helpful with keeping this place up and running, but all they had to do was ask! Oh, she'd grumble and complain, but she'd do it, "A walk to clear my head?" She asked as her father opened the door to their driveway.

"Of sorts," He said.

"Daddy," Veronica huffed, "Just tell me. What are we doing?"

"Mija, it is my duty to protect you, is it not?" He asked. Veronica gave a non-verbal affirmation, though she was biting to say that his version of protection was hardly the right way to go about it most of the time, "And I will always protect you. However, part of this means that I should teach you how to protect yourself."

He motioned to the bag.

Veronica unzipped it, the dew from last night seeping into her knees as she crouched to sift through the bag. She pulled out a variety of weapons, but none of them were guns. And there were heavy-duty gloves. And eyewear.

"Dad?" She asked warily, not liking where this was going.

"These things can't be reasoned with. And it's unpleasant, but you should know how to kill a Cannibal," Her father said.

"No," Veronica said, standing. She was in no mood to hunt one down and beat its guts out. And, frankly speaking, if not her father to protect her, she had a line of men waiting. Nick, Elio, and Archie- even if they weren't currently dating- would protect her in a pinch.

"This is not up for discussion, Veronica," Her father said, crossing his arms, "I will be right here in case things go wrong. But if it's us or them, you need to make sure that you're on the 'us' side. You are, aren't you?" He asked in a pointed tone.

"Are you crazy? You think I have sympathy for them?" Veronica gave a harsh laugh.

"No, but I do wonder about your wills," Her father said, "Laying inside, refusing to come out and live…it's just as well as choosing to be one of them!" He waved a hand.

"Wow, you're so great at dealing with mental issues, dad," Veronica said, eyes widening in faux surprise, "Why didn't you become a shrink instead of a mobster?"

"It's not a joke," Her father said with an angry shake of his head, "And you cannot live your life under the covers, waiting for something to happen!" He took a breath to bring his emotions down, "And perhaps this would be good for you. To get some emotions out."

He did have a point there. She did feel anger, not just sadness, toward so many things. Or perhaps she was misinterpreting anger for sadness, and in reality, she was a quivering ball of rage.

"Fine." She said tartly, "Just. One."

"That's all I ask."

They set out into the woods, Veronica with the safety goggles for woodshop on, the heavy-duty gloves, and her weapon of choice; a crowbar. She'd considered the butcher knife, but something with a bit more range seemed safer.

The further they went into the forest, the better time they seemed to have. And, for a moment, it's like her father was the father she recalled as a child; the one she'd never consider being a bad person, who was a good father, a loving father. He was strict, but it was always clear he doted on Veronica.

And, for just a bit, she forgot what they were doing and where they were.

"Do you remember the time you got mom and I lost while we went hiking?" Veronica asked.

Hiram gave a smile, "I was not lost."

"You so were, dad," She said, grinning ear to ear, "You just kept saying 'oh, just past this tree. Oh, maybe this one'." She felt a giggle rise in her throat, "Face it, you had no idea where the main path was!"

"I blame your mother," Hiram said, but his face was entirely bright, "For bemoaning about the hike at all. Wasn't she the one that said she wanted to come with us?" They'd been hiking in a well-known area. It had originally been just Veronica, about age 12, and her father, but at the last moment, her mother had insisted on coming too.

"You should have known she wasn't serious-serious about it," Veronica said. As it had happened, halfway through the hike, on their way back, her mother had begun to complain about the heat, the mosquitoes, the length of the hike, the sandwich she'd brought… all were interchangeable complaints that amounted to the fact she was not enjoying this hike.

So her father had said he knew a shortcut back to the cars.

It was not a shortcut. They'd gotten lost.

"Minorly lost," Her father finally conceded, "We didn't have to call for help. I did find the road eventually."

"Yeah, and your 'short-cut' took three times the length of the actual trail," Veronica teased him. She missed that Hiram. The one that had gone on hikes. The one that seemed to actually still love her mother.

Hiram looked at her, smiling, and perhaps he had the same thought that Veronica was. Whatever the reason, the smile slipped slowly from his face, until it was a stony look devoid of the joyful ease it had before.

"Let's go to the road." He pointed to the bare area between the trees, "Better chance to find one and to maneuver."

Veronica got the sense that this bonding moment was gone.

"We're packing up to leave soon," Hiram said, though it wasn't conversationally. Just a statement.

"What?" The question eked out of Veronica's lips, "But...we're safe here. Why?"

Hiram didn't answer. Instead, he tapped the ground a few times and pointed ahead.

"There. Perfect."

It was a woman, her stature not much more than Veronica's. She was wearing a jogging jacket and Lululemons. She seemed college-aged; perhaps someone hiking in the area who had a very unfortunate time.

The Cannibal's back was to Veronica, but she was grasped with a sudden terror as she recalled Dilton's observation; one bite and she was done for.

"You must," Hiram said in a grave tone as she turned, her eyes begging for the release of this task, "I won't let anything happen to you."

Veronica's hands were sweaty as she gripped the crowbar and crept upon the monster carefully. She was watching the ground as carefully as she was giving attention, her eyes flickering, to the Cannibal to not crack a twig and reveal her lightweight steps forward.

The first hit didn't even make the Cannibal flinch. She turned, slowly, half her jaw hanging off. Veronica squeaked and hit again, this time knocking it back a few paces. It seemed confused, hurt even. It still looked so...human.

Veronica forced herself to keep her eyes open and hit again. The Cannibal stumbled, but fell forward, grimy fingernails reaching for her as it went.

"Dad!" Veronica cried, no longer wanting to do this at all. She was in over her head. Her hands were so sweaty she could hardly grip the crowbar. She spun around, jogging a few steps away, and found...nothing. Her father wasn't there.

"Dad?" She asked, realizing with horror that she was alone.

With this thing. Who would stop at nothing to kill her.

Fight or flee? She always thought she was a fighter, someone who pushed back as events came to her, but maybe she'd never actually had the fear of death in front of her face? Maybe she was a flee-er?

She had a feeling she could outrun it. The thing wasn't fast.

As she made up her mind and turned to book it back to Lodge Lodge, where she was sure her mother would be horrified at her father's field trip, the Cannibal grabbed her ankle.

Veronica went down hard, just barely throwing her arms out to brace herself, her chin scraping against the pavement.

Her legs kicked out and she was sure she hit something, hopefully, face, because her ankle was let free. She turned, grabbing the crowbar and bringing it down on the skull hard until it wasn't moving at all.

She scooted back away from it, sobbing quietly and traumatized.

"Always double-check the kill," Her father said, appearing out of seemingly nowhere, digging a knife into the skull. The Cannibal gave a shriek as it went, for good, until it finally stopped moving at all. When Hiram turned, he was disappointed.

"You tried to run."

Veronica was not scared of her father. This had shown her what she was afraid of, and he wasn't it. And, she didn't like what had happened, so fury replaced her fluttering heart, racing two times as fast as it should.

"You left me! You said you'd be there! What the fuck did you think the outcome would be?" She demanded, pushing herself up, wiping her chin to see a few dusty streaks of blood on the back of her palm.

"I was always there," Hiram wagged a finger, "But you needed to feel-,"

"Abandoned? Left? Unloved?" Veronica threw her hands up, "Pick any, dad, and just be honest about it!"

"You needed to do this yourself!"

"Why?" Veronica demanded, "Why."

"I may not always be around to protect you," Hiram said, and she understood at this moment he honestly believed this to be the right way to raise her, the right test to give her, "And if Archie ever breaks up with you, or you come to your senses and break up with him-,"

Veronica clenched her fists. Despite the fact her father was right, Archie had broken up with her, and she was not going to let him know that.

"We love each other. We'll outlive you," She said, knowing that would piss him off. From the way his jaw tensed, it was true.

"This is for your own good. You need to be independent."

"So you endanger my life?"

"To save your life!"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Veronica asked, her anger ebbing away to just emptiness. A sort of hurt. Loneliness, one that he was hoping to evoke, and one she'd been pushing away for days now.

When Hiram didn't reply, just wiped his weapon in the grass next to the road, she exhaled.

"Can we go back home now?" She asked quietly.

"We can go back to the Lodge Lodge."

The fact that he was careful not to call it 'home' was not lost on her.

May 30th, 2018

The next day, everyone was packing.

It was still unclear why they were leaving, or who was pushing for it. All Veronica got was 'the adults are making this choice.' So far, it didn't seem like her father planned on dropping anyone, such as leaving Archie or Joaquin to fend for themselves, but the day was still young.

And Veronica wouldn't put it past him to try to pull that.

Maybe that's why. Maybe he was so obsessive that taking them all back to Riverdale was the only way to cleave space between Veronica and Archie.

There was no winning when it came to the death match that her father and her ex-boyfriend were locked in. It was a lose-lose no matter what happened.

Tell her father they were still dating, he would invoke Mr. Lodge's wrath for simply finding her daughter a worthy partner.

Tell her father they had broken up? Well, great, no need to keep him around then!

She mused over this conundrum as she packed her things, slowly, trying to take in everything.

Perhaps they were just going somewhere with more space. It was cramped before the New Yorkers arrived, but it was bursting at the seams with them there. Always running into someone in the bathroom, never finding an open chair, having to hide on the roof for any quiet and peace, but even then, someone else may be there already...yeah, maybe this change was needed.

The plan was to pack everything up between two cars; all the people in the big van they'd come in, and all the supplies in the car the St. Clairs had taken to make it here in the first place. The adults would switch off driving the two cars until they got to...god knows where.

Her suspicions were proven right near lunchtime. While she didn't think the entire reason they were leaving was to get rid of Archie, it wasn't an opportunity that Hiram could ignore.

"You said your mother; she's in Chicago?" He asked conversationally. Veronica shook her head, trying to indicate that he shouldn't answer. It was like being questioned by the FBI. Lips sealed.

But Archie, ever trusting, just gave a sad smile, "Yeah, she is."

"Think she's still there?" He prompted.

Archie's smile wavered, "Hard to say."

"Would you know how to find her again?" Hiram pressured still. Archie frowned, tilting his head.

"Dunno. I guess if I tried her brown house, perhaps…"

"Dad," Veronica hissed, frustrated.

"What?" Hiram made a show of trying to look innocent, "I'm sure Archie would much rather be with family."

"It is a time to be with family," Archie said, no doubt thinking of his father, and the guilt for not looking more for him.

"So we'll just impede on her survivalism?" Veronica challenged. Archie was nodding, as though the thought that they wouldn't was impossible to him. And Mary was kind. Perhaps she would let them all stay with her, wherever she was. Or, at least she wouldn't turn away Veronica.

"Don't be silly. Archie would go with his mother and you'll stay with us. Perhaps in California." Hiram said, as though he was just considering all this for the first time, "Families should stay together. Archie said it himself."

Archie's face went pale, as though realizing his own kind words had been used against him. He scowled, opening his mouth to argue, but Veronica held up a hand.

"And you'd just love that, huh? Us separated by Cannibals and states?" She said, "And me with...who? The three-toothed survivalist that's been already living underground for six years prior? Because there aren't that many other choices."

"Don't be so dramatic, Mija," Hiram scoffed, waving her off, "Elio and Nick will stay with us, of course. And even Dillon is quite intelligent and-,"

"So it's just Archie we're casting off."

Hiram opened his mouth, then paused before shrugging, "He doesn't want to be with us. He'd rather be with his mother. He said it himself."

"Uhm, I'm not sure I did." Archie was confused and turned around by the entire exchange, just trying to keep up.

"And what if we can't find Mary Andrews?" Veronica asked.

Hiram gave an 'oh well' sort of sound, "Surely he has other family other places."

"You know," Veronica leaned in, "Don't we have an Uncle Carlos in Chicago?" Veronica asked, "Perhaps I'll elect to stay there too. With family, of course. If you're fine with foisting Archie off on any old relative, why shouldn't I be allowed to do the same?"

"Your mother would be heartbroken," Hiram said, "You're staying with us. This is not a choice." Hiram stood, "Now, finish packing your things."

As he left, Archie turned toward Veronica. They, for once, were the only ones in the living room.

"God. He really hates my guts. Twenty bucks he just throws me out of the van while we're moving?"

Veronica sniffled, "It's not funny!" She said, shaking her head.

"It sort of is," Archie reached for her hand, and then pulled back, recalling his own rejection of her, "Because otherwise, it's just weird. And depressing. And I think your dad would be really steamed to just have me make jokes about it."

This did elicit a small laugh from Veronica, edging out as she wiped her eyes, "I know we're not…" She trailed off, "But we should just piss him off until we get to Chicago. Hand-holding. Making a big deal of having to sit in seats not next to each other. Ridiculous pet names."

Archie was smiling wide, "Oh, I can be obnoxious." He had a knife, one she realized he had held pretty much since the start of all of this, "Want me to carve your name on my shoulder? Poor-man's tattoo?" He teased.

"I have a better idea." She said, "I wanna carve it in the house. He loves this stupid Lodge. I want to marr it; make him wince every time he comes up here."

"You think we'll be…" Archie began to ask, then shook his head, "Whatever. Yes. Where?"

Veronica nodded her head to a beam not too far above their heads. She pushed herself off the couch and held her hand out for the knife.

"I can whittle. I'm not bad," Archie said, "Plus, I don't know if I feel comfortable handing you sharp objects," He teased with a wink.

"Okay, okay. Quickly though. I just want it up there before any questions are had." Veronica said, "I'll be a lookout."

"What should it say?" Archie asked.

"Archie and Veronica love each other deeply?" She suggested. Archie made a face.

"Laying it on a bit thick, eh?" He said.

Veronica made a face, "Yeah, true. Can't be too obvious about it. Uhm… 'Archie and Veronica survived the apocalypse?'"

"Okay, but what if we just realize it was a big misunderstanding and we've been holed up at Lodge Lodge while everyone else went back to life?" He asked. It was highly unlikely, but still. Archie had a point.

"Then it's funny."

"How about…" Archie turned the knife over in his hands, "How about...you know this was my dad's right?" He asked, switching topics.

"I had a guess."

"Archie and Veronica were here," Archie said quietly, "Because at this point, it seems even being present at all is quite the achievement."

"And the date," Veronica whispered quietly, "In case he forgets when it was."

She watched as he slowly carved the woods, just the quiet sound of scratching. It wasn't very loud, and everyone else was packing elsewhere, it seemed.

"Want a heart around it?" Archie asked, stepping back to beam at his handiwork.

"Yes," Veronica said all too quickly, "Because we do...love each other, don't we?"

Archie rubbed her shoulder, "Always. No matter what." He said meaningfully. And they did; broken up or not, they did love one another.

The sign wasn't huge, but it was hard to miss. Veronica and Archie cleaned up the wood shavings and went about cleaning. She hoped her father saw it and she hoped he saw red.

But honestly? She never really got the chance to ask him.