After yet another round of introductions I was officially tired of meeting people; my eyes were starting to cross. Sergeant Grant briskly shook our hands before walking off. He wasn't very friendly or personable. Everyone else seemed nice though. One teenage boy around thirteen was being lightly teased about his crappy shooting; his face turning red. I could relate to that. A girl with dark red hair quickly saddled up beside Ethan, talking to him with a flashy smile.

"Who are your friends?" she asked Ethan as he smiled back at her.

I should be the one asking that.

"Sheri, this is my little sister Chloe and this is Bailey," he motioned to both of us.

"Hi," Chloe said.

I just nodded and crossed my arms. When Chloe saw this, she mimicked my stance and crossed her arms too. I was starting to have a little mini-me. Sheri frowned and Ethan looked surprised by my cold greeting. Admittedly it wasn't very mature, I was acting like I was back in high school, but I could give less of a crap. I turned from them to John.

"So John, do I have to take your shooting course or do I get your seal of approval thanks to the training I've already got?"

"Sergeant Grant has final say, so you'll have to show him. But I'll put in a good word for you," John winked.

"Bailey knows how to use AR-15 now!" Chloe said, outing me.

One of the people in the crowd commented, "And how do you even know that's what the gun is called, little girl?"

Chloe cocked out a hip, "I grew up country."

People chuckled in response. Chloe certainly had a way of stealing scenes.

"Alright guys an' gals, trainin' is over for today. Head home and wash up for dinner at the clubhouse," John announced to the crowd.

People started to trickle back to their condos.

Zoe leaned over to me, "Well that was rude." I couldn't help but notice the smirk on her face.

"Shut-up," was all I could say in my defense.

"Sheri's actually pretty nice."

"Sheri, pfft. That's a stripper's name."

Zoe started to laugh.

"I'm just gonna log in my guns and I'll meet you guys for dinner." John tipped his hat and took off towards the club house.

After another hour of catching up, we were brought into the clubhouse for dinner. Apparently it was at four PM every day. At least they were keeping some traditions from the old-folk's community. The clubhouse had three large picnic tables in the center with various other plastic tables and chairs all over. It still didn't look like enough seating for the eighty-three people Zoe said resided here.

"Are there going to be enough seats?" I asked as I followed Zoe and Ethan to the back.

I guessed the kitchen was in the back from the smell of cooking food wafting out here.

"A lot of people just come grab a plate and take it home," Zoe explained.

There was a line forming by a large serving window with aluminum trays of food out resembling a buffet. I copied what Zoe and Ethan were doing and grabbed a plate with utensils, getting in line behind them.

"Smells good," Chloe said as she sniffed the air. "But I bet it won't be as good as Mac's food though."

I nodded, "Once we go get all of them, Mac can cook some of his recipes for Hargrove."

"Who's Mac?" Ethan asked. "And what do you mean you're goin' to get 'em?"

"He was the chef at the apartments we were at before coming here and I promised that we would go back for them once we found Hargrove."

The sound of a plate crashing to the floor had us whip our heads to see Roy bending over to pick up the shards.

"Sorry," Roy apologized.

Ethan bent down to help, "No problem. Every house in Hargrove had dishes so we got tons."

I had a sinking feeling that Roy dropped the plate at the mention of bringing the apartment crew here. They would undoubtedly recant what had happened to Tim.

Once they picked up the plate pieces, the line started to move again and we finally reached the food. One pan had lasagna with cheese melting on top. It smelt heavenly. One the of kitchen workers was serving up, no doubt to make sure everyone only got their fair share.

The next was a real garden salad full of fresh vegetables and I can't remember a time I was more excited to eat lettuce. In the end I had one of everything. We waited for the rest to finish being served and headed over to an empty table. I started in on my food before everyone had even sat down. I was starving.

"Oh man this is good!" Chloe said around a mouthful of lasagna.

I could only nod as my own mouth was full. It tasted like beef.

Once I finally swallowed, I asked, "Is this really beef?"

"You bet. Every once and a while, they cook up one of the older cows when a new calf has been born. They use all the meat and keep the rest in freezers," Ethan informed us.

I could cry tears of happiness right now. Going over four months without fresh beef or fresh vegetables made me realize how much I took going to the supermarket for granted. Sure you could raise your own cows and grow your own vegetables, but that was a full-time job in itself. And when you were constantly on the lookout for infected, it became impossible unless you were in a guarded place like Hargrove.

We finished the rest of our food in silence, too busy chewing to talk. It reminded me of the big family dinners I was forced to go to over the holidays. I was starting to get full, but forced myself to finish all the food on my plate. You didn't dare waste anything edible now-a-days.

I was on my last fork full when a single shrill alarm sounded. Everyone looked up from the table.

"What was that?" I asked.

Before I could get an answer, Wyatt's voice carried throughout the hall, "Remain calm everyone. The guards will take care of everything. Please go back to your dinners."

"When a guard spots more than a hand full, they sound the alarm to let the others know that they may need backup," Ethan said to our table, his eyes glued to the clubhouse front door.

"Should we go help?"

"No, they usually can handle it. If they can't, the alarm will be sounded again to signal others to grab a gun and help. Since we're in the city now, we get plenty of infected outside these walls on a daily basis and the guards are used to dealin' with it."

"Have any infected ever got in?" Roy asked, his hand on Amanda's head.

"Since we've been here, only one has snuck in," Zoe said. "But no one was sure how it got in. The perimeter is checked daily for weaknesses and the gate is constantly guarded."

I was going to throw another question at them when the alarm went off for a second time. Ethan stood up, his chair scrapping along the floor.

"I'm gonna go take out a gun and check it out," Ethan announced and then turned to Chloe. "You stay here."

Chloe just nodded, not having any intention of leaving her first real meal in months.

"I'll come with you," I said as I got up.

Ethan looked at me, "I dunno if that's a good idea."

"And why not?"

He just sighed, "Fine, but you won't be able to take out a gun since you haven't taken the course. Follow me."

Ethan took off towards the door on our far right. He knocked and let himself in. John was already inside with Wyatt and a couple of others, all grabbing weapons. They stopped what they were doing and stared. Way to make a person feel out of place.

"Sorry Miss Bailey, but unless you've taken our training course, you can't have a weapon," Wyatt said politely.

"That's fine," I said back, not offering the information that I had my Beretta on me.

John and Wyatt shared a look and John nodded, silently vouching for me. Wyatt led the way back out once Ethan grabbed a newer model hunting rifle. All the guns had been painted with red stripes and I could only assume that was for identification purposes.

The rest of our group must have handed over their weapons when they got here. They had another thing coming if they thought I was going to do that. I wouldn't be revealing my Beretta unless I absolutely had to. If the guards had it all under control like Wyatt said, then I wouldn't have to anyways.

Most people were still sitting in their chairs while a few had gathered around the clubhouse windows. Once we were back outside I could see that some people with weapons had collected around the gate and the guards in their towers were shooting silenced rifles. Ethan ran to one make-shift guard tower and John to the other. With two people up there it was squished, but they could still shoot unimpeded. I felt marginally better with John and Ethan at the helm.

Byron ran up and said something in Wyatt's ear and then he nodded. I noticed that Byron was packing a gun that hadn't come from the supply room. Looks like there was a double standard with that rule. Byron made a point to flash me one of his wide mouthed grins before heading back to the gate and peering out the long slit towards the approaching infected.

"Looks like there aren't as many as we thought. Guess one of the guards got twitchy and sounded the alarm again," Wyatt said breezily.

"Truck!" one of the guards bellowed and the gun fire stopped.

"Is it one of ours?" Wyatt yelled up to the guard tower.

She grabbed a pair of binoculars and took another look outside of the walls.

"It's ours!"

"Shit, we can't open the gate when we have the diseased out there," Wyatt muttered to himself, "maybe the guards can take out the closest ones and then when they open the gate, people can be standing by to take out the ones they missed."

It didn't sound like he was actually talking to me, but I nodded anyways.

"That sounds good."

Wyatt looked up startled, like he had forgotten I was there. He ran over to Byron, leaving me standing like an idiot all by myself. I wasn't needed, but I had wanted to see how they handled this type of situation. Trying to make myself look less out of place, I headed towards the tower Ethan was perched on.

"Everything okay out there?" I yelled up the ladder.

Ethan looked back down at me briefly, "Yeah we got a bunch, but the rest are all followin' the truck. Don't wanna risk hittin' our people."

Our people. Ethan already thought of these people as his group. I felt kind of dejected. I mean we had only been separated for just over two weeks. It was kind of like when you broke up with someone and they already started to date another person after a week. It... hurt.