Olivia and Nate had been gone over a week and Edward was still sitting moping about. All his designs for alternative energy and power were coming back as failures, quite likely because his head and heart were elsewhere. The only person he really knew here was Nate's daughter and he wasn't about to have a heart to heart, though he did stop by to check in on the leg she had injured in the storms and bring the occasional snack from the kitchen. Her escape buddy was off being a hero too, although she had the blonde girl and nurse to keep her company. They all seemed to be doing alright.

Olivia had urged him to talk to Marcel about training before she left. He thought about it, but the man seemed to be slowly losing his mind, so Edward hesitated. The community met with failure after failure it seemed when it came to power and a consistent water source. The gardeners were walking pretty far to get their share since the storms took out the windmill pump, not to mention the kitchen staff having to do the same. Plus with people getting hurt and sick, Edward doubted that Marcel needed one more thing to worry about.

"Edward," Marcel's voice boomed, causing Edward to drop the wires in his hand he'd been trying to untangle.

"Mm-" Olivia always called him Marcel, but Edward noticed everyone else referred to him as Mr. M.

"Marcel," the man provided, probably sensing the internal drama or more likely that thinking he just forgot. "How is the latest project progressing?"

Edward sighed. "Honestly, not well."

Marcel reacted with more enthusiasm than expected. "Then I have no guilt pulling you away from it. Liv asked if I would take you through some basic defence training."

Edward wasn't sure how he liked this rather intimidating, attractive, former colleague of hers using an intimate nickname. The word basic also seemed stressed, but Edward may have just been imagining it. He tended to read too much into intentions when we felt inferior.

"I would have offered sooner, but as you know, the community has been experiencing some hardships."

And here Edward thought he could get off scot-free. "Right, that's understandable. If you're too busy-"

"Nonsense. Liv, only makes requests she feels are important."

That was how Edward found himself fending off a Black giant a few hours of the evening all week. The training seemed a bit aggressive for a beginner, but he had to trust Olivia's judgement. Marcel also highly recommended daily run, which Edward had laughed at initially thinking of Olivia hounding him in the desert, but a week into giving it a shot, he was able to run twenty minutes straight without stopping, which was better than anything he'd attempted before. Should this turn into a zombie apocalypse scenario he'd be thanking his mentor.

Friends of Marcel's, Cynthia and Peyton, joined in for a few training sessions. Both had done this before and were more capable than he was. The attention Marcel paid Cynthia was reassuring for Edward and Olivia's relationship because given a choice between himself and Marcel, Edward seriously doubted his own odds.

Edward got a chance to chat with Peyton about the water issues and thought he might just have a solution for them if he could find the parts to replace the mangled windmill and a heat source strong enough to weld them.

The three men set out to find the windmill parts after Cynthia immediately vetoed the scavenging team proposal Marcel had outlined. Edward held in a laugh watching a man his size be taken down by a stern mother figure.

Edward had taken the outdoor scenery into memory as instructed last week. He had been allowed the one route to jog and he only deviated slightly at times. The old warehouses, the homes with torn vinyl siding, the planks strewn about the road welcomed him back and reminded him that he'd skipped yesterday's workout.

With a very sturdy bag, he collected anything that could be welded or melted together to create the mill. He also needed a solid enough base to make it work. Luckily, some patriot had mounted a full flag in his front yard, combined with one he saw at the fire hall, the poles would do the trick. America would just have to forgive them because the flags were more like shredded rags than marks of freedom now. Marcel was helping him locate the third piece of the puzzle plus a large hand-operated drill that must have been in one of these warehouses to dig down to the water table.

Peyton and Edward approached the warehouse without much apprehension. The last two had been fine yet unhelpful and they just needed to knock this one off the list to head home to supper.

The door was kept closed but unlocked. This struck Edward as odd as most unlocked doors had the tendency to be blown open by terrible weather or left by scavengers. People closed doors for a reason, and if they broke this seal they'd find out why. People got to be cagey when you invaded their space.

Peyton creaked the door open before Edward could protest. He walked casually into the dark warehouse A foul stench stopped them both in their tracks. So much for his appetite. It hadn't reeked like since the first few weeks of destruction. A mix of blood and death had its own acrid perfume. What had claimed these lives? The weather hadn't been acting up in the past few days and this area looked better off than theirs after the storms.

A few drips echoed in the distance, causing the hairs on the back of Edward's neck to rise. It was nothing, he calmed himself, just leftover humidity or water trickling down.

A growl echoed in the darkness and shoes thwacked away on the cement floor. The growl suggested an animal; however, the shoes on concrete cried human. Each thwack brought the monster closer, though the pace wasn't terribly quick.

"It's okay, sweetie. Daddy will protect you from harm. We'll reason with whatever this is. It's probably just another hungry person we can help," Peyton spoke to the empty space next to him.

Great, Edward thought, he was stuck between a hallucinating person and a potential supernatural being.

"Peyton, we should get out of here." 

They'd confirmed this building was occupied and someone else could deal with this new person. Marcel was more of a diplomat.

By this time, the person grew closer. Droplets fell from its hands and the figure became more human-like. White eyes gleamed even in the low lighting. It was too late to run as they'd already been spotted. The figure picked up speed, soon charging toward him and Peyton.

Edward grabbed the nearest broken beam on the ground. It was heavy enough to do damage, so he swung it at figure darting toward them. The board smacked into the intruder's skull and knocked the thin man to the ground.

"Jesus," Peyton muttered and he wrapped his arms around his torso. "Lily, look away," he whispered to his side.

The unknown man's hands and legs twitched. He groaned like a wild dog in a vain effort to reach the two men from his back. Edward jumped back but didn't take his eyes off the supposed person. Blood was smeared around his lips, but Edward doubted that he'd had anything to do with that. Some of it was starting to crust and dry already.

Soon the man managed to flip over and crawl towards them, letting out an animal-like hiss. Edward brought the board back down on the intruder's back. The man cried out in pain but again used no words to express his pain or objections, only guttural groans. 

As the attacker's arms dragged him toward Peyton, who was rocking himself gently into some other world, Edward brought the board down a second time to the man's skull. This time the man stopped making noise and a large puddle of blood formed near his skull. His limbs continued to move and Edward wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried. He pulled Peyton away from the body and close to the exit.

Marcel arrived moments later and drove a pointed metal pole into the man's chest. The movement of the man's limbs ceased moments later. Peyton let out a yell, finally broken from his daze and took several steps back. Marcel tossed away the piece away that Edward was planning to use in the windmill. So much for finding all three pieces. This one would be contaminated now. They'd be at this again tomorrow.

Marcel turned to Edward. "He is infected with a contagion. When you come across anyone in this state make sure you eliminate the threat completely or find someone who can."

Peyton's face was contorted in fear. "How can you do that?"

"He was suffering. It was humane," Marcel replied. Edward concurred: end the suffering and the risk of being bitten.

Peyton let out a ragged breath. "Not the way I was raised."

Marcel sighed and hid his scowl from Peyton. "I knew the group living here and spoke with them last week. This man killed every last one of them and was feeding on their bodies. He would come for us next. It is fortunate we found him before he found us. We will have to make sure there are no other infected wanderers over the next few days."

Marcel looked down at the corpse with narrowed eyes. Edward found it a bit unfair given that it was likely disease and not the man's natural cannibalistic tendencies which had caused the attack.

"Count me out," Peyton said.

"I'll do it," Edward said. The hits he'd delivered had come instinctively so he'd be alright. Plus he'd have some more badass stories than 'I designed a windmill' when Olivia came back, not that he was thriving on the gore or anything.

Peyton spent the rest of the trip back muttering to himself and to his left. Edward could swear he caught snippets of conversations, but he must have been imagining things. They did get the third support beam in the end, part of a broken electrical structure. Another plus was the lack of cannibal zombies on the walk.

Upon their return, Cynthia was drawn to Peyton immediately and held back no irritation toward Marcel. "You need to stop these insane missions before you injure or maim every last one of these people."

"Cynthia, please, we were seeking out a drill to be able to pump water into the community and make it safer. Fetching water is not a feasible option if you do not want people out on the streets," Marcel argued.

"You know how Peyton is-" she hazarded a glance at Edward, "managing." It was no great secret that the man was a bit loopy, but Edward let them think it was still veiled. "You could have handled that situation differently."

"The man was a biohazard. Every moment he breathes is a potential to infect the three of us. I saved the community from it."

But Cynthia's stern face showed no signs of believing Marcel's heroics. "And what if he was fine?"

Marcel crossed his arms in front of his chest, but he wasn't standing quite as tall as usual. "He was not. I inspected the warehouse first then found him with Edward. Unfortunately, you will need to keep an eye on the three of us to monitor any unusual changes in us. We did not get away a hundred percent clean. The disease could be bloodborne."

Edward's stomach dropped. Great, his hero stories might come with a quarantine order from the woman he loved. At least Marcel would be kept away too. Maybe Edward could convince them that the man had always been a cannibal waiting for ideal conditions to come out of the closet. It was possible.

Cynthia shook her head. "It's always one more thing. How do you plan to handle this?"

"Keep everyone inside while Edward and I secure the area over the next week. We have both been exposed so we are the best candidates. All of us will have to create a plan in case anyone should become infected."

Cynthia wouldn't break eye contact. "You mean find a way to end their lives before it spreads."

"Yes, and as a nurse, you-"

"I can't," she muttered and took off after Peyton who'd left toward to greenhouses.

Marcel groaned as he went to wash the blood specks off his arms. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it into a charred pit. Edward looked down at his own shirt and noticed the blood. He sighed, knowing this was one of the shirts that didn't reek. Laundry was coming, once that windmill was fixed. The shirt had been stretching out all week anyhow, that or he'd been shrinking. Once he looked down at his waist, he had an answer. He probably hadn't been this small since adolescence. The apocalyptic diet, if only he'd thought of it months sooner, he could have made a fortune.

Marcel's deep voice interrupted Edward's musings. "There is nothing I can do to please that woman."

"Maybe you should just forget about pleasing her. Just do your own thing and she'll come around." He'd also recommend not asking her to kill victims, but that should have come under basic logic.

Marcel raised an eyebrow. "And you have tried this?"

Edward laughed and went to wash off his own limbs. "God, no. I need all the ass kissing I can fit in."

Marcel raised an eyebrow and then switched to inspecting his shoes. Edward looked down at his with a frown. He had no desire to ditch slightly bloody sneakers for a pair of soggy ones from the apocalypse-now shopping center. This pair had travelled from his home to the desert, to Colorado, across the country and settled in New Mexico. To his relief, they were clean enough to fool Marcel. Marcel's black leather shoes went into the biohazard bonfire they were about to have.

The flames shot up and the bromantic fire began, the two men in nothing but their skivvies and in Edward's case, socks and shoes. It wasn't the most inspirational moment for Edward, lit up by the sun and flames, especially beside Adonis to his left.

"She is happy with you," Marcel said with his eyes trained on the flames. He rolled his shoulders back twice and they cracked.

Everything about it was ambiguous from "she" to the matter of it being a question or statement.

Edward played it safe. "Cynthia? I hardly know her."

From Marcel's look, he hadn't bought the lie. "Liv, she relies on you."

"Not in a fight for her life when she wants to live," Edward joked, but it didn't earn a laugh.

Marcel stirred the flames with a large log. "I could not manage what you have done in months, and I had years."

Years? Sure, Olivia had said they'd been friends and former colleagues, but would he have pined for her for that long? Would Olivia had held off, maybe with that fiancé who... Oh damn. Suddenly the chips fell into place, knocking him over in the process. Marcel was the fiancé. How could Edward have possibly missed that? That was why there was so much bad blood and they argued incessantly.

"You're the fiancé?" Edward wanted verbal confirmation.

Marcel looked away. With a furrowed brow, Edward couldn't tell if it was hurt, sadness or a combo. "She did not even mention it was me."

Smooth Edward. He'd made the man responsible for fighting with him daily feel like an insignificant speck. "She talked about you, but just never connected you and the story once we got here."

His voice came out light, and he stared off into the horizon still lit by the setting sun. "It is as if we never were."

Edward cracked his knuckles to relieve some tension. All the shit Olivia went through and he acted like it was some whimsical lost romance. "Trust me, you left your mark."

That got Marcel's undivided attention. "How?"

"I don't know what she used to be like, but that woman was a shell hiding away anything that could be used against her. I had to pry with a pretty much with a crowbar to find out she had any kind of non-professional life let alone feelings." But he'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

"If she could have only seen the life I had imagined for us together."

Edward tossed the log he'd picked up into the fire, destroying Marcel's careful wood structure in the process. "She got a damn good idea when you abandoned her."

Marcel slowly replaced the logs using the unlit one in his hand as a tool. "She chose to stay."

Edward's chest heaved. "She needed support and reassurance when you gave her accusations."

Marcel's tone grew firmer. "She is not a weak woman. She is strong enough to support herself and her decisions."

God, no wonder Olivia turned out as she did. Every breath she took in that colony was a punishment coming from this man. Time to set the record straight.

"No, she's strong enough to deny help when she thinks she doesn't deserve it. Everyone needs support at times. It doesn't make you weak; it makes you human. That's why we're pack animals. We thrive in communities not alone. You should realize this after running this place."

Marcel narrowed his eyes and replaced another log. "You encourage her weakness, so she can rely on you for strength."

Edward kicked one of the logs, immediately regretting the sparks that flew onto the fabric of his shoes, but he composed himself. "It's not weakness. If she hadn't faced how she felt about your history, she'd still be in there, being abused by her boss and believing she deserved it. That's how your idea of 'strength' manifests in her head."

Both men's breaths were audible over the crackling fire. The burning fabrics left a pungent scent.

Marcel hung his head. "How badly?"

"Badly enough," Edward replied. "Maybe your issue with Cynthia isn't that you can't please her. It's that you are trying too hard without knowing what she actually wants."

Marcel chuckled with a half-hearted smile. "The polite man telling me to back off."

The remains of their shirts blazed even brighter as the flames reclaimed them. "I will fight you for Olivia. I will lose and likely go down with severe injuries and possible disfigurements, but, I will fight."

"I had better be careful how well I train you." A hint of a smile found its way to Marcel's lips.

"Don't worry, I'm my own natural obstacle." He'd win the verbal battles to compensate for the physical.

Marcel chuckled again. "What if I ask Cynthia, and I am not part of what she wants?"

Edward shrugged. "Respect it, man. That's what the rest of us mere mortals have been doing for years, well the ones that don't rape and pillage villages that is. At least you'll know. I've been shot down more times than I can remember. Hell, I thought Olivia was joking when she approached me."

His expression darkened. "She approached you?"

Shit. He'd just managed to steer the conversation away too. "Well, it kind of came up in a pretty awkward conversation and I'd rather not go into detail, especially with you." Because finding out an ex wanted non-committal sex with pretty much the next available guy she could find was really not a topic one wanted to explore.

Marcel's mood seemed deflated enough as soon as Edward had mistakenly brought her up again. "Think it's about time I find some clothes though." And with that Edward took off. There's was only so much of Marcel he could take in a day.

***