"I've been having a hard time adjusting

I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back

I have a lot of regrets about that

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout

Could've followed my fears all the way down"

– This is Me Trying, T.S.

Mila

My eyes fluttered open and I briefly took an inventory of my surroundings, momentarily forgetting where the hell I was. I appeared to be on a couch, my face smooshed into the side of a cushion. I rubbed my eyes as I moved to sit up and realized my hand is stuck on something. I turned over to look at what it was and my heart melted when I did. There was Daryl, still sitting where he was when I fell asleep, head cocked over to the side and quietly snoring. My hand was still firmly placed on his forearm, fingers tucked right between his arm and ribs, right where I left it. He stayed all night. And I had the best sleep I've had in months.

I couldn't deny it. I felt like a brand new person, well rested and ready to face the day. I moved slowly, trying not to disturb him but managed to fail because he stirred anyway as I pulled my hand off of him. His eyes were still half shut as they looked at me, heavy with sleep, and his voice was deliciously gravelly.

"Hey."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Who looks this good upon just waking up? His hair was perfectly tousled and his eyes looked even more blue than usual, like my favorite clear sky days at the lake.

"Hey," I answered, a slow smile spreading over my face before remembering that he didn't keep his end of the deal. "You were supposed to leave me here and go to your nice, warm bed after an hour. Not sleep sitting up all night." As much as I appreciated it, I didn't mean to put him out or make him feel like he couldn't leave me here. He must think I'm totally pathetic. A small smile graced his mouth as he looked at me.

"Was comfy. Didn't mind." A man of few words, but even fewer in the morning. I knew it had to be a lie, but he didn't look the least bit put out by it. He lifted his arms over his head and groaned as he stood, causing me to sharply inhale as I fixated on the thin strip of skin exposed just above his jeans. Now there's a trail I'd like to explore. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Fuck, yes," I laughed, "Literally better than I've slept in months. Whatever juju you did worked."

HIs eyes lit up as I said that and I moved to stand, so he wasn't towering over me anymore. It reminded me of a magazine article I'd read, back when I cared about receiving the latest dating advice– men love to solve problems. Combine that with Daryl, who seemed to be starving for praise, and I found the easiest man to please ever. My mind wandered to what other ways he was easy to please. Stop. Jesus.

"I smell something cookin'. We should go check it out before it's gone."

I nodded mutely and gestured to the door, moving to follow him. As we walked into the cafeteria, T-Dog was coming around with a skillet.

"Eggs! Powdered– but I do 'em good," T-Dog smiled proudly, obviously excited to finally show off his cooking skills. My stomach grumbled in response to the smell. Glenn groaned in the corner, his head down on the table. Dale laughed at Glenn's misery while Jacqui came around to rub his shoulders. I gave him a pat on the back as I walked past.

"You're gonna be okay, buddy."

"Don't ever, ever, ever let me drink again."

I stifled a laugh. He must've kept going after we left after dinner. How much wine did Jenner have around here?

"Protein helps the hangover," T-Dog replied, as he placed a plate in front of Glenn.

"Is there anything I can do to help? If you want, you can sit and I can serve? You already cooked!" I commented, but T-Dog shook his head and pointed to a chair.

"Nah, you sit. I got this."

I did as I was told and a plate of steaming eggs landed in front of me. I couldn't hold back the moan as I took a bite.

"T-Dog, these are so good. You totally can't tell they're powdered!" I raved around my mouthful of eggs.

"Told ya!"

"I've also got coffee over here," Carol announced as she met my eyes and gave me a cheeky eyebrow. I furrowed mine, confused at what was happening, but was beckoned by the promise of caffeine. She handed me a mug as she poured. "So… you and Daryl coming in together, at the same time after mysteriously being missing all night? Anything you want to tell me?" A Cheshire cat grin broke out on her face while I probably looked mortified.

"What? Oh my god, no. I was just having trouble sleeping and-"

"Ah, the old 'trouble sleeping' bit."

"What?! No, that's not- I mean, not that I wouldn't– I mean, ugh, god."

I put my face in my hands and could feel the blush rising. Steam must be coming out of my ears. If Daryl overheard this, I'd never see him in the same room as me again. I certainly wouldn't get 'hand on him all night' privileges. Did I want those privileges?

"I'm just kidding. Sorta. The gossip is severely lacking around here, so I need to take what I can get," Carol took a sip of her coffee and raised her brows at me over the mug, "Go back to your eggs. And here," she slid another mug of hot coffee toward me, "bring this to your new best friend."

My face flamed again, but I did as I was told and delivered the fresh mug to Daryl as I sat next to him. He gave me a nod but otherwise continued to eat his eggs. At least he didn't see the spectacle of Carol and I's back and forth.

"What the hell happened to you? Your neck," T-dog addressed Shane, alluding to the deep scratches from his jaw to clavicle. My jaw went a little slack– I've seen those in the ER. Those are defensive wounds. My eyes flicked around the table until I saw Lori's face fall and knew who the actual victim was.

"I must've done it in my sleep," he replied, overly casually. I glared daggers at Shane. He wasn't even trying to make a good excuse. He must've done something awful for Lori to claw at him like she was fighting for her life.

"Y'alright?" A deep voice asked, close enough to my ear to send chills up my spine and break my trance. His stormy eyes were already looking at me in concern, as if he could see into my soul. That was a scary thought.

"Just don't like bullshit," I hissed back, quiet enough so only he could hear.

"Never seen you do that before," Rick said to Shane, a hint of suspicion in his tone. A cop should also be able to recognize defensive wounds. Did he know?

"Me neither. Not like me at all," Shane threw a taunting glare at Lori, and I gritted my teeth in anger. Fuck. Him. A warm hand squeezed right above my knee, concealed by the table, and I looked over to see Daryl giving me the tiniest shake of his head. This isn't the time to blow up. I told him last night that I could keep a secret, and I was planning on keeping that promise. I sighed and went back to my eggs, now cold.

Daryl

In the light of day, it was starting to hit me how intimate sleeping next to someone all night was. This wasn't the part I was used to. Hell, I wasn't used to any of this, but especially not the waking up in the morning bit. It's not like we actually slept together, hadn't done anything remotely above a PG level rating, but that almost made this constricting feeling worse. I kept telling myself that I didn't mean to fall asleep and had fully intended to leave, returning to the first bed I'd had the opportunity to sleep in for over a month, but deep down, I knew the truth. Even if I'd sat there wide awake all night, I still would've kept my ass on that lumpy sofa just to keep that serene look on her face. Now though, I was starting to regret that decision. Only slightly.

I silently inhaled the eggs that T-Dog put in front of me, feeling my head throb, and tried to tune out the sounds of everyone talking around me. Thankfully, no one talked to me– used to my antisocial tendencies– and I had never been more grateful to exist unnoticed and unbothered. I glanced up just in time to catch Mila putting her head in her hands and turning as red as I'd ever seen her. Carol was saying something to her, looking like the cat who got the canary. I've never seen her look so pleased, not in the entire time we'd all been together. Mila looked over at me, unintentional and brief, but in a way that made my cheeks burn because I got the uncomfortable feeling that they were talking about me. She's probably telling Carol all about how worried she is that I'm going to take last night the wrong way. Shame flooded me for even putting myself in a situation to look stupid. This is what happens when people get close and make you feel things. I dropped my eyes back to my plate and tried to look like what I was seeing there was the most interesting thing in the world.

I felt Mila's presence return to the table and saw her hand sliding a steaming mug of coffee toward me. A peace offering to let me down easy. I took it with a nod, no words necessary. Mila didn't have to worry about me turning into a lovesick puppy– I just like to feel useful, and unfortunately I feel some kind of responsibility for anyone who needs protecting. That's all last night was.

The energy at the table changed but I was too busy arguing with myself to hear what was going on. Shane was talking to Rick, but there was a subtle undercurrent of tension, and that's when I finally noticed the very obvious nail marks down Shane's neck. Lori is looking like she just saw a ghost, answering the question of where they came from, but Rick doesn't seem to notice. Mila sure does though, as I feel her tense and vibrating next to me, with a look in her eyes like she's imagining Shane's head on a stake. I'm leaning in and asking her if she's okay like it wasn't a conscious decision and despise myself for doing it. You just don't learn, do ya?

"Just don't like bullshit."

Her tone is pure venom, and it hits me that maybe Shane's marks remind her of something else. Someone else. My hand comes down on her knee, squeezing once to tell her that I'm here and I'll keep my promise. She visibly relaxes, shoulders leaving their place by her ears, before she sighs and goes back to eating. Crisis averted, for now, but that shit with Shane and Lori is bound to blow up sooner or later.

—-

Mila

We finished up and then followed Jenner back into the old working area. A large screen on the wall displayed medical images of an MRI being performed on a human skull. We watched little blue lights explode in a show of fireworks throughout the brain.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked. I bit my tongue to avoid scoffing at him. He wouldn't be able to do anything right in my book today.

"Neurons. Synapses," I said quietly, more to myself. Dr. Jenner looked at me and nodded.

"It's a person's life—experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you—the thing that makes you unique and human."

"You don't make sense ever?" Daryl spoke up, looking annoyed at being confused. I snickered– he always said exactly what he was thinking. Well, almost.

"They're thoughts, feelings, memories. Little electrical impulses to tell us to pick something up or breathe. It's our humanity," I felt a little dumb after my impromptu spiel, but pushed it aside, knowing that it wasn't factually incorrect, "When they disappear, we die."

"Death? That's what this is, a vigil?" Rick's voice spoke up, impatiently. He was obviously done with Dr. Jenner's cryptic explanations and games.

"Yes, or rather the playback of the vigil," Jenner answered, "Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected… and volunteered to have us record the process. VI, Scan forward to the first event."

We now watched as the lights were extinguished, one by one, as black matter consumed the outer edges and the human in the imaging machine visibly gasped for breath.

"What is that?" Glenn asked, horrified.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be…gone," Jenner answered.

Death had always been death, difficult and scary. A force to be reckoned with that didn't care if it was a good time or not. Somehow, it had become even worse because now you didn't stay dead– all your loved ones got to watch you turn into a monster and had to take you out themselves, if they were lucky.

"Is that what happened to Jim?" Sophia's small voice asked Carol. I wondered how she'd respond, who knows what the right answer is? Kids could be shielded before, but now it was at their detriment.

"Yes," Carol said finally. My eyebrows raised. Damn, don't sugarcoat it.

Andrea cried softly, catching Jenner's attention. Jacqui spoke up for her.

"She lost somebody two days ago. Her sister."

Jenner looked at her with a surprising amount of empathy for someone who had been acting like a robot since we arrived. A generous one, but a robot nonetheless.

"I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is." Turns out there was a heart in there after all. He addressed Vi now, "Scan to the second event." A new event shows on the screen. "The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute… seven seconds."

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asked.

"No, just the brain stem. Basically it gets them up and moving."

Even if Jenner didn't have a cure, he at least had more information about this than we'd ever had before.

"It's your lizard brain. It only controls the basic functions like sleeping, breathing… eating," I swallowed thickly, "It doesn't have any higher level thoughts or feelings. It's purely about survival," I spoke up again, but didn't know why. I'm sure Jenner had a handle on explaining this all. Maybe it made me feel helpful. Maybe I was just thinking out loud.

"But they're not alive?" Rick asked.

"You tell me," Jenner responded, gesturing his head to the screen.

I internally rolled my eyes, being reminded of a professor who wouldn't answer your question and instead made it philosophical. Put them out of their misery, dude, and just tell them what you know. We were a borderline captive audience who had no choice in the matter, and he seemed to be milking it.

"It's nothing like before. Most of the brain is dark," Rick replied, being a good sport about the torturous process of dragging more information out.

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part—that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct," Jenner finished. And we all knew what that instinct was, had seen it in action. Spread the disease and consume, ad infinitum.

The barrel of a gun appears in the MRI image, and the flash of a bullet spreads through the brain before the person stops moving.

"God, what was that?" Carol asked.

"He shot his patient in the head," Andrea replied, "Didn't you?" Jenner didn't answer and instead powered Vi down. "You have no idea what it is, do you?" She pressed.

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."

I scoffed at Jenner's reply, crossing my arms, causing everyone to look at me.

"You just named literally every option. That's like saying something could be a solid, a liquid, or a gas. You can't just select all that apply. You couldn't even narrow down the classification to a kingdom?"

I didn't mean to be angry at Jenner, I knew it was misguided, but the only person who could even begin to point us in the right direction for treatments was in the dark. This was the fucking CDC lab– they had all the bells and whistles. If they couldn't figure it out, the odds weren't good that anyone ever would. It was sinking in for me that hope was lost. This was the world now. And I was not taking it well.

"Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere," Andrea's desperation was palpable.

I suppressed a giggle. Some people cry when they've hit their limit– I tend to laugh like a crazy person. It's gotten me in trouble more than a few times in my life, like the time Aly and I couldn't stop giggling at our great aunt's funeral. We got scolded by the priest during the service, and that only made us laugh harder. We were kicked out, still laughing.

I covered my face with my hands and walked to the back of the room, trying to obscure anyone's view of me, as I sat underneath a table with a computer on it. Vaguely, I heard the group grilling Jenner about other facilities and him answering in a way that made it seem like he was the last one standing. I pulled my knees up to my chest and dropped my head, trying to hold the noise back. No one was going to understand what was happening to me, so best not to draw attention to myself. At worst, I looked like a major asshole.

"Hey… ya alright?" Too late, I thought. I spread my fingers wide, to see Daryl in between the cracks, and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Daryl looked at me, horrified, "Oh, Jesus. What the hell is this?" He climbed under and sat next to me, doing an awful job of controlling his face.

"Oh, we're done. Yeah, sorry. That's what he's saying. He's pussyfooting around it, but that's what's in between the lines," I whispered, a hiccup escaping at the end of my sentence which probably didn't help my credibility or case toward sanity.

"...Pussyfooting?" Daryl repeated my word and probably would have been amused, if he didn't look so confused. I burst into a fit of giggles again before feeling his warm hands on my upper arms. "Hey, you're kinda freakin' me out."

I swiped at my eyes, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide, and probably looking as crazed as I felt.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've always been a laugher when it comes to stress or big feelings. I remember seeing crazy traumas and surgeries, and I used to be so glad I was wearing a mask because under it, I was smiling like a serial killer. It would've been unsettling for the patients."

Despite the inconvenient timing, I noticed our close proximity. His hands around my arms, our faces huddled as we sat under a desk. In any other context, it may have been almost romantic. I could've started laughing again, so I pushed that thought away as I felt Daryl's hands pull back.

"Man, I'm gonna get shitfaced drunk again," he reached his arm up to the table above us and pulled a bottle of whiskey down before taking a swig.

"Ooh, me too! A little hair of the dog never hurt anyone," I didn't even ask before pulling the whiskey from his hand, probably overly comfortable from our prolonged physical contact all night, taking a hearty sip, "Whiskey used to be my favorite. Never was a big Jack fan, but I'll take what I can get."

"You used to drink whiskey?" He asked incredulously. I felt my ego bruise at the way he said it.

"Bourbon, actually, was my preference but yes, I drank whiskey. Scotch too. Is that so hard to believe?"

Was it silly to be arguing about this when there were way more pressing matters at hand? Absolutely. Was it a welcome distraction? You bet your ass it was.

"Just seems a little… rough around the edges for a girl like you," Daryl was giving me a look as he pulled the bottle to his lips, but his tone wasn't mean. He genuinely meant it as an observation, not a judgment.

"And what is that supposed to mean? A girl like me?" Before I could press him for an answer, chaotic commotion broke out in the group and I suddenly wondered what we missed. "Oh, shit." We clambered out from under the table and rejoined the semi-circle. "What's going on?"

"There's a countdown on the wall and time is almost up. He said the basement generators will run out of fuel but won't tell us what it means otherwise," Dale explained tensely.

It was then that I saw the lights were now dimmed low and the air had turned off. Jenner didn't answer, but I didn't like the resolute sadness he had on his face. He looked like a man about to be executed. Wordlessly, he grabbed the whiskey out of Daryl's hand and took a deep pull.

"Why is the building shutting itself down? What happens at decontamination?" Lori demanded, holding onto Carl.

Suddenly, an alarm began to blare.

"30-minutes to decontamination!" Vi declared loudly, putting another countdown on the screen that previously held the MRI images. Dr. Jenner swiped his badge and entered a key code, which promptly pulled down impenetrable metal doors that blocked all the exits. It was mayhem.

"Did you just lock us in?! He just locked us in!" Glenn shouted.

The kids were crying into their mom's shoulders. Jenner was filming what looked like last words on a beat up webcam. Daryl stormed at Dr. Jenner as T-Dog and Shane tried to hold him back, before launching his still half-full bottle at the doors. Glass and liquor splashed dramatically.

"Hey, I would've drank that," I muttered, probably unhelpfully. I called this accepting the things I couldn't change. The irony of the phrase being stolen partially from an AA prayer wasn't lost on me.

"It's better this way," Jenner announced, "Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed. I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that."

I glared at him. "Well, you could've made your meaning a little more clear."

"What happens in 28 minutes?!" Rick demanded, only to receive no answer.

"What happens?!" Shane yells, lurching Jenner's chair forward in frustration.

"You know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff!" Jenner had finally lost his shit. The robot had officially left the building. "Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!" Jenner wiped his face and sat back in his chair, resuming to his overly stiff demeanor. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T.s?"

"High impulse fuel explosives, second in power only to a nuclear explosion. It sets the air on fire. There's no pain. An end to sorrow, grief, regret… everything. This will all be ash."

Jenner's statements added fuel to the fire, pun somewhat intended. Sophia's cries became louder, adding to the panic. T-Dog and Daryl had broken the glass in front of the fire axes and were using them to try and break down the door.

"This is for the best. You know what's out there– a short, brutal life and an agonizing death. Is that really what you want for your wife and son?" Jenner asked Rick with a creepy level of calm.

"Well, I don't want this!" Rick answered emphatically, willing Jenner to stop this.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Jenner called out to T-Dog and Daryl, who were still trying to break the door down.

"Well, your head ain't!" Daryl ran with the axe poised above his head. I intercepted him before he could make contact, putting my hands on his chest to slow him down and catching his eye.

"He's the only one with the code to get out. We need him alive," I murmured, feeling his heart beating rapidly under my hand. He stared at me through ragged breaths before taking a small step back, conceding. I turned on my heel to Jenner.

"This isn't right," I pointed an angry finger toward his face, "You are a doctor. You took an oath."

"Yeah, well, oaths don't mean much now," Jenner brushed me off. Oh no, he wasn't getting off that easy.

"Well, they meant something to you once or you wouldn't have stayed here to still try and work on a cure. You were still trying to do good– beneficence. Maleficence– do no harm. What do you call this?"

I may not care much about my own life, but there were plenty of other people in this room who shouldn't have to go like this. The alcohol from earlier was freely coursing through my veins, which escalated my impassioned speech.

"This is short term harm for long term benefit. An executive decision to prevent any more pain for any of you." I wanted to slap the condescending, superiority complex right off of him but held myself back. If I failed, there was always still time to give Daryl the go-ahead with the axe. Jenner looked at Rick, "You said it yourself, last night– you know it's just a matter of time until everyone you love will soon be dead."

Multiple faces looked to Rick in shock. Not mine, though. If anything, I just felt relief that someone else felt the same way.

"What? You said that?" Shane's voice cut through the alarm, disgust evident.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" Rick replied, resolutely. We're getting off track with these side conversations. I was running out of time.

"There is no hope. There never was," Jenner declared to the room. He was distracting us, but I wasn't done. Not yet.

"Autonomy." This was my final point. If he brushed it off like he did the others, I was out of arguments. I chose my words carefully, "The ability for each patient to make their own decisions. You are taking away their right to choose. You don't get to make this choice for them." For the first time in an hour, Jenner refused to look at me. Maybe this would be the angle that worked. "You really want to live your life abiding by these ethics just to throw it all away at the last second?"

When Jenner's eyes finally met mine, I knew I had him.

"It would be the wrong choice," He concluded, but didn't sound as sure of himself anymore.

"For you. You've made your decision, now give us a chance to make ours," I echoed Rick's words from yesterday when Dr. Jenner asked him what he wanted. A chance. "Anyone who wants to stay can stay."

"Let us keep trying for as long as we can," Lori added.

I held my breath for a few tense moments, the only noise coming from my bounding pulse and the still ringing alarm as we waited to hear the decision of our fate. With a terse nod, Jenner typed in his code and the doors retracted.

"I told you, the topside's locked down. I can't do anything about those."

Everyone rushed to the doors, a newfound energy pushing us back outside. I looked around to do my people inventory and noted two things– Rick and Jenner in some sort of secret exchange and Jacqui, still sitting.

"Come on, Jacqui, let's go!" T-Dog had noticed too and was calling out to her.

"No, honey, I'm staying."

"But that's insane!"

"No, it's completely sane. For the first time in a long time. I'm not ending up like Jim and Amy. There's no time to argue. And no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out. Get out."

"You sure?" I double checked. Autonomy works both ways– if this was what she wanted, then it wasn't my place to stop her.

"I'm sure," she said with a kind smile. "You take care of yourself."

I gave her hand a squeeze with a sad smile.

"I'm staying too," Andrea added, sliding to sit on the floor.

"Andrea, no!" Dale cried, hands out as if hugging her would somehow convince her to change her mind. "This isn't what Amy would want for you."

I hissed at the tactic. Amy's not here.

"She's dead, and you need to leave."

Andrea's statement hangs in the air and makes me think of my own decision. What do I want to do? My brain can't seem to work fast enough, too aware of the clock ticking down to the point of no return where I won't be able to decide differently. I needed more time.

"Okay. You win," Dale takes a seat across from Andrea, as I wordlessly watch from where I stand in the middle of the room, still mentally calculating.

"What are you doing?" she sounded pissed. My feet feel glued to the floor, my eyes tightly closed– trying to remove all distractions so I can think.

"I said okay."

"Don't pull this, Dale."

"I'm not pulling anything. If you're staying, I stay too. He's right. We know what's waiting for us out there. I don't want to face it alone."

Alone. Alone like I am without Aly, like she is now if she's still alive. Who gets to leave first? Who is forced to stay and live in a world without the other?

"Dale, get the Hell out. I don't want you here."

Maybe this is for the best. Isn't this what I'd want for Aly if she had the chance? No. Never.

"Too bad. See, you don't get to do that, to—to come into somebody's life, make them care and then just check out." Ah, fuck. "I'm staying. The matter is settled." My mind conjures a vision of auburn hair and hazel eyes that match my own, immediately followed by deep, oceanic blue.

—-

Daryl

I followed T-Dog and ran up the stairs to the lobby, taking them two at a time and pushing through the burn in my chest and legs, my hangover long forgotten. The axe hung heavy in my hands and I brought it down, over and over again, without use. Not even a fuckin' dent. T-Dog typed random codes into the keypad by the door while Carol and Sophia huddled in the corner.

"Get the doors open!" Glenn yells. Yeah, no shit. What did we look like we were trying to do?

"Daryl!" Shann calls, and I quickly toss him my axe.

I took a second to glance at the clock which brightly shone with three minutes and ten seconds left. Nine. Eight. Seven. I looked around the room to see if anyone was making any headway, when I doubletake. Where the fuck was Mila? Panic clawed its way up my chest and sucked the oxygen out of my lungs. Did she decide to stay? Should I go back down and drag her up here, kicking and screaming? Do I have time?

T-Dog took a chair and slammed it into the glass, without luck. Shane pulled out the shotgun he swiped from Jenner and fired, still nothing. If we were gonna fail anyway, I might as well see her one more time. I took off in a sprint and rounded the corner, only to collide with her body running in the opposite direction, knocking her off balance. My hands reached out to steady her, barely catching myself in the process, and I wrapped her in a tight hug in pure relief. Her arms slid around my side and slithered up my back, as she firmly returned it, my face pressed into her hair.

"Don't fucking do that again."

My voice came out more shaky than I'd thought it would, hands trembling as I squeezed her tighter– willing my body to accept that it could come down because she was right here and she was fine.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," her muffled reply came out against my chest, hardly audible due to the noise of everyone still trying to break through the glass. Something I should be helping with, if I wanted her to stay fine. I pulled away despite not wanting to and she moved to approach the group.

"Grenade– everyone get down and take cover!" I watched Rick pull the pin before catching Mila's wrist and spinning her back into my chest, practically dragging her behind a planter and placing my body between her and the impending blast. My chest curved around her, trying to cover any exposed areas, as her breath warmed the space between my shoulder and neck.

"Open your mouth," she commanded.

I didn't have time to question it, so I did. A half second before the detonation, she managed to cup her hands over my ears and then the floor rippled with shockwaves. Despite her hands, my ears were ringing and it felt like my body was disoriented from the blast. I couldn't hear shit. I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the now present hole in the glass, jumping through before helping her down and sprinting to the street. Walkers were descending from every direction, following the blare of the alarm. I fired off two bolts without slowing my pace. We jumped in the truck and while still panting, she pushed her face against the passenger window.

"What're you doing? Get away from the glass!" I hissed, on edge. We survived one blast, but a much bigger one was on the way.

"Dale and Andrea– they haven't come out yet… Jacqui decided to stay behind, but maybe they changed their minds."

I didn't know how much time we had left on the timer, but it seemed risky to keep your face exposed in front of something that could shatter. Suddenly, she gasped.

"There they are!"

Andrea and Dale jumped out of the window and ran towards the RV. I took that as my cue to grab Mila by the thighs, pull her down to my end of the truck bench, and place my body over the top of hers. I put some of my weight on my elbows, which were on each side of her head, not wanting to crush her. Her arms wrapped around my neck and I inhaled the sweet, fruity scent of the shampoo she used last night. If I didn't make it, at least I died happy.

"Open your mouth again," her soft voice tickled my ear, lips pressed close.

I obeyed her command as she followed suit, and her hands once again came up to cup my ears. I repeated the motion back to her, not knowing why we were doing this but trusting there was a reason, and just as I did, the truck shook from the impact of the explosion. My eyes closed in reflex and it felt like all the air had been crushed out of me at once. It took a second to tell whether or not we actually survived how massive the impact felt. Ears once again ringing, I opened my eyes to see Mila looking back at me.

Our chests were pushed together, as were our hips, and I could feel her heartbeat racing through her shirt. We just stared at each other as the ringing subsided. I leaned forward and brushed my lips against hers, feeling her respond as her fingers laced through my hair, pulling me closer. I trailed my hand down her face before reaching her neck, cupping my hand against the side of it as she shivered. Her hips jerked up into mine, making her gasp as heat rushed to my groin.

Just as quickly as it started, I pulled back and sat up, breaking the kiss. We have to get the fuck out of here. I pulled the keys from my pocket and hurriedly slotted them into the ignition, as Mila pulled her legs back to her side of the bench. Pressing the gas, I threw one last wayward look in the rearview mirror just in time to see what used to be the CDC smoldering into the sky.

Hi all, this is my first fanfiction ever and first attempt at writing. I'm starting to drive myself crazy with perfectionism, making my editing sessions crazy long, so please feel free to help me out and let me know if you have any constructive feedback. It's hard to know where I can do better (other than generally feeling like the whole thing should be scrapped) :) thanks for reading!