I gingerly got down from my fancy podium, not trusting my balance with a concussion. I snaked around the crowd, now tinged with shame, and followed Roy. He moved fast. He was already back in his apartment by the time I reached the second floor.

I found him sitting, shoulders slumped on the leather couch in living room. Beside him sat a trucker's radio, which I could only assume was the one that belonged to Tim used for contacting the mercenaries. It was Roy's only lead to finding his wife and he sure as hell wasn't leaving that behind.

The bedroom door was closed and I could hear Chloe talking to Amanda through it. I don't think that kid knew how to whisper. Roy's packed bags were waiting by the door, ready to go for tomorrow morning.

"Roy listen-"

"Bailey don't. I need to leave. For me."

"I'm not going to say what you think I am." I approached him and leaned against the wall in front of him.

He looked up at me, dark circles under his eyes.

"Why don't we leave together?" I still wasn't sure of my words once they left my lips.

Roy's mouth fell open.

"You're right, I wasn't thinking that at all," he ran his hand over his forehead. "Aren't you worried I'm dangerous?"

"You know, I was pretty scary myself last night too," I admitted.

It was true, last night I let my anger take over and something ugly had emerged. Who knows, if Roy hadn't killed Tim, maybe I would have.

"This place needs a leader and I was never much of one. I think you'd fill the role better," Roy sighed and leaned himself against the back of the couch.

I made a scoffing sound, "It would be a sad day, the day anyone put me in charge. I've wanted to go since I got her and now I have my opening."

Maybe he would be more open to the idea if I put a selfish spin on it. I wasn't scared of Roy; after all, I had killed before. Albeit, it was never someone tied up and at my mercy, but if he hadn't killed Tim, what would we have done with him? It wasn't an ideal situation, but I didn't see an alternative.

"And where would we go?" he asked, testing the idea.

"Where did you plan to go?" I countered.

At the defeated look on his face, I knew he had less of a clue than I did.

"Fair enough. You need help getting to the gun store you were talking about?"

"Indeed I could," I nodded. "It's going to be a long trip back and I could use the help."

"Have you told Elaine and Mac? I'm sure they won't let you go without a fight."

"It's not their choice," I shrugged.

"Well, you better start packing then. I want to leave at first light tomorrow."

"Pretty demanding words for a guy who has no idea where he's going," I raised an eyebrow.

Roy let out a harsh breath, "I just don't want Amanda to see all the people's reactions to me or hear anything they may say. Maybe most will still be asleep that early."

"You forget this place is like a retirement village, full of elderly people who get up at five in the morning."

"Good point," Roy chuckled. "I just want to put this all behind me as fast as I can. Lingering will only make it worse."

I knew a thing or two about that.

I let Chloe stay with Amanda for the time being while I packed up our few belongings. Most of our stuff was still in the car, primed for a quick getaway. Even though I had my power-nap of a sleep, I was still exhausted. And concussed. I'd have to talk to Elaine about that.

"You're leaving?" Speak of the devil.

I looked up to a worn-out, blacked eyed Elaine. She walked over and plunked down on the couch beside me.

"Yeah, you know Chloe and I being here was only temporary."

"Shitty timing."

"Well tough shit," I all but growled. "This place isn't my problem. This was supposed to be a stop along the way, not a new life."

Elaine leaned over and put her face in her hands.

"You know, when we formed this place it used to feel like we had a real chance. We had trained leadership, weapons, food, people, and shelter. Now it feels like everything we had worked for has gone to shit. Makes me think that we were fooling ourselves for ever thinking we had a chance."

I patted her shoulder awkwardly. I wasn't good at the whole comforting thing.

"Look, I felt like that before. When I got split up from my group and suddenly had a kid to look after. It was daunting; it still is. I have no idea what I'm doing, but the thing is I'm still doing. That's the key. Focus on rebuilding this place or find a new one. Hell, you can come with us if you'd like." Maybe I should have consulted Roy before I made that offer.

She peered at me, her head still in her hands, "You're leaving with Roy?"

"Yes."

"Even after yesterday?"

"Especially after yesterday. Actually I was going to come see you about the whole concussion issue. Other than being tired from sleep deprivation, do you think I'll be okay to drive?" That was my main concern. I needed to be at a hundred percent on the road.

"You hit your head hard, but not enough that I feel you will have that kind of damage. You made it through last night without consciousness problems and that's when they'd start to show up if you were going to get them," then she added, "but I'd still recommend you rest another day."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen." I'd been down the stalling road too much.

"Mac's going to be pissed you're leaving," Elaine said, like maybe that fact would make me change my mind.

"I was going to talk to him next."

So I did and he wasn't happy about it either.

"You're going to leave me like week old dinner?" Mac joked, but it felt forced.

I had gone down to the kitchen to see Mac and found him and the kitchen in disarray. Ingredients and canisters littered the counter space, he was puttering all over the place, and the oven timer was going off continuously. I calmly walked over and mashed a few buttons, the shrill alarm ceasing.

"No food lasts a week here," I retorted.

He sat on the bar stool and put down the utensil that he had been waving about. I wasn't even sure what it was used for. It looked more like a medieval torture device.

"You came here at a crappy time. It wasn't always like this, you know," Mac sighed. "You got room for one more?"

I took a step back, surprised at his words. He chuckled.

"I'm kidding of course. Looks like I'm going down with the ship." Mac glared at the mystery utensil.

"This place doesn't have to go to waste. Tim's gone. He was the only link to that mercenary group, so they may never even show up again," I tried to offer some positives. "Now you can rebuild."

"Rebuild, like a house of Legos," he muttered. "I guess we don't have a choice do we?"

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A/N: I realize that most words associated with 'serial' give a bad impression. Like serial killer, serial dater, serial banjo player, etc., but I would like to take this opportunity to thank you serial commenters and serial voters. You know who you are; you're the one who votes on [almost] every chapter and leaves a comment or five.

Unfortunately, I'm not able to thank you all directly, so this is me saying thank you for your continued support, it really does mean a lot! Without you guys, whether you've been here from the beginning of the first book or found TWBP in the past few months, these books would not be where they are today. So again thank you, you awesome people you :)