They didn't have anywhere to call home. She supposed that had she still been alive that fact would have greatly troubled her, but she just couldn't bring herself to care. After all, the social stigma and the issues of being homeless are only for the alive to suffer and they had clearly drawn a line between them.

All she had, all the others had was what was once home to many of them. Destroyed. Decaying. Each building covered in its own battle scars. The glass of every window shattered. The stench of rotting carpets and stale bodies, old iron and new iron – both enough to make any alive person's eyes water. It didn't affect her.

The city was all they had. And even then, it could do nothing for them. There was no reason for them to need it. As they had no need to sleep, or anything else for that matter, except sleep – the city could provide them with nothing.

Even still, they always, always gravitated back. It didn't matter when or why, they always ended back there as if they were attached by a string and would only bounce back if they went too far.

She guessed that the need to belong lasted longer than their 'human lives' did.

So, there she was again, leaving the city, her city – the forsaken citadel – her legs hardly working as the cold began to work its deadly tricks upon her. She stumbled, limping over the broken shards littering the potholed ground. Every step was an effort, but she kept on walking anyways.

Besides her, stumbling like fawns, others walked with her. Gurgles and groans were passed along the line, a general greeting. None of them were looking good, all were greying – the cold setting into all of them. Hunger. It hurt.

There was hardly any light in the morning dark, not that it mattered. But the paved streets were barely illuminated, a dull glow dancing through the broken shop window advertising dolls. Inside, they were all cracked with their tiny china eyes unseeing to the world around them. They didn't have to see the ripped teddy abandoned, soaked in a deep red hue, or the bloody baby buggy - but she did.

A groan beside her, low toned and almost unheard. The girl beside her tried to curve her mouth into a smile, failed, tried again, failed again and gave up.

She gargled back, brushing slightly into the girl, trying to ignore the wrinkled texture of the rotting skin. At least it was only slightly grey, like she'd been turned to stone.

"The cold is coming for you."

"And you too."

"Don't remind me."

"Maybe it would be nice."

"Don't say that."

"Well, it's not like I have much left to stay for."

Their conversation carried on like that. A gargle. A moan. It was all they could do, but still, it wasn't good enough – for any of them.

Out through the city gates they walked, on and on, passing the 1st, the 2nd and 3rd graveyard without a look back. They had been 'emptied' a long time back.

She didn't know what she looked like, or if she still held anything of what she used to be. Maybe she did? Maybe she didn't. it didn't matter either ways. The cold was setting in and she couldn't even remember her name. All she knew was that she had to eat, to burn away the ice filling her cold veins.

....

He woke early that morning, along with the rest of his team. They had to be out. To fight, to hide, to evacuate. To do their jobs, to save.

It all seemed rather pointless to him, anyway. It wasn't like what they were doing would save them. Him, and the rest of the recruit army were only weeks at most to all the lives they saved. After all, it was only 102 days till the bombs fell.

He remembered the day that the others had first come, the first wave. The screams always were with him at night. It had seemed so helpless and he wasn't even sure how he managed to survive. Now, looking back, the first wave had been easy, too easy in comparison to the hell he faced every day.

At some points, he had wanted nothing more to just lay down and let it end. Would it be easier, probably?

'What was left to stay for anyways?' It was a question he asked himself daily, as he ran through the woods with gun in hand, continuing his endless killing. It was a question he asked himself when he stood in front of the graves, the mounds that stretched out and out surrounding the capital in a circle of death.

The answer usually was 'not much'.

....

Already, she could feel the cold settling in, tearing at her veins as though they were slowly setting into an inflowing stone. Still she moved her feet.

Groan – the cold was affecting everyone else too. She could already feel the pace slowing from what could've been called a brisk walk to the speed that the old lady has when she decides to walk out in front of the lorry on a green light.

Around her, the green fields were spread out like a blanket, stretching out until the jagged edges of the woods. And past the woods stood the capital. She'd have thought that the humans should have chosen a location slightly further away than that if they wanted to survive. Even a weird tingling sense told her that she'd felt that way before. Maybe even when she had been alive.

If she could, she'd love to know, to remember what she'd been like. To have any part of what she used to be, a tiny part of humanity – it would give her the will to survive. 'I wish I could' only had around a 30% chance of success – the odds weren't exactly in her favour.

....

"Ok, ok people. You know the drill, let's get this show on the road."

He frowned, no matter how bad the weather, she was always in such a good mood.

"Is something wrong, Soldier Rabbit?" She spun towards him, her long red hair tied tightly in a surprisingly soft plait swinging in a deadly arc. Her eyes flashed.

She never changed.

"Mina, can we please stop with the 'rabbit', you know my name is Ryan."

"Soldier Rabbit, do I really have to remind you that my name is Soldier Mouse, his is Soldier Tarantula and his is Soldier Dragon fly." Mina pointed at the other two, talking slowly like a parent would to a child.

Tyler just shook his head, zipping up the leather suit they all had to wear for 'protection' – not that it could do much against them. It was the same for all the soldiers: leather jacket over thigh black jumper over thin black top and black trousers of a thick leathery material. 'Strength in layers'. "And I told you that I'm either 'Tank' or Tyler. I am not going to die being known as 'tarantula'."

"Well you're not going to die so you'll be fine." Ryan had sworn long ago that he wouldn't lose anyone else.

Dom didn't say anything. No big surprise there. Well, he had never really been much of a talker, but when he did – everyone listened. Everyone would still listen, that was if he talked. He hadn't spoken much since he'd had to place his gun to his father's head. They all knew he could still hear the bang and see the blood every time he closed his eyes. He just stood, staring at the floor, cleaning his gun, again and again as if there was still blood splattered all over the barrel.

They were all a little broken by now.

Sometimes Ryan wished he had Dom's courage – it would have made it all so much easier, or would it? He had never been brave. Good with his mind, yes, but not with the hands and the eyes. Tennis had always been out of the question.

"Come on man, I heard we are getting pizza tonight." The small joys – all the soldiers really had left to look forwards to.

"Really? Well why didn't you say this before! Now I'm ready to go and get this over with."

"I want Hawaiian." Mina stepped forwards, shouldering her rifle over her broad and muscled shoulders. There wasn't a single thing about her that wasn't toned to oblivion.

"Sure, thing mouse, 'let's get this show on the road'." Tyler winked cheekily at her and took her playful slap in good cheer.

They weren't supposed to get attached to anyone. There was no assurance that they would make it through the day. It was a war of sorts and it was foolish to think that no one died in a war. It never ended well for anyone. In another world, another lifetime, maybe Tyler and Mina would have settled down and had a normal life for 19-year olds. Who knows what could have happened. Would Tyler have cheated? Would they have got married and had 3 children? Who knew.

Still, in 102 days, he'd know if any life was possible for any of them.

"And at the end of the day," Mina turned face them all, pausing so she could make eye contact with them all. "I want you all the say 'I did survive' because 'I did' has a 100% chance of success and that is the only option I want. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

So, the fight began again as the four walked out of the protection of the outer capital stone walls. Out and in to the woods. The base of 'the others' had too many of them surrounding it to be able to saunter into it. And so, it was a soldier's job to 'clear them up' so one day, one of the bombs that each group carried in their packs could be set off and the hell could end.

---