Author's Notes:  I'm sorry this took quite a while to make. S c h o o l. Anyway, this fic is actually turning out pretty good? Hopefully I don't get too attached though. It's a bad thing getting attached .__.

OKAY. Onto the story!  

The only logical reaction to everything that has happened was to run. David's feet betrayed his thoughts. It's not the first time fear froze him in place. In fact, he should be immune to the feeling by now, considering the countless times he has been victimized by it. But no, it still happened. And David's stomach did back-flips.

"Um, am I supposed to thank you?" The chain in his hand doubled the weight on him. The air between them suffocated David. It was the most awkward situation he ever found himself in. He let out a tense breath when he accepted the fact that this one did not plan on infecting him anytime soon. There's something in his actions that seemed almost graceful. He moved slowly but also precisely. He had no interest in biting David.

Of course, the man in front of him only stared at him. He cannot formulate words, much less reply verbally. His eyebrows moved the tiniest bit, like he was trying to form a certain face. Duh, I just saved your life, it seemed to say. David's heart rate sped up. This being is certainly different from the others. This discovery scared him. He needs to tell Gwen.

"Um, thanks for doing this—" the brunette gestured to his clothes that were smudged with dirt, "it's-uh, it really helped," he stuttered. What does one say to a dead person after said person helps you from becoming human lunch? His hand slowly drops the chain and sees him watching, eyes following the motion.

"I... um," why did he feel nervous all of a sudden? His conscience prevented him from leaving the man who just helped him. It would be a rude thing to do, despite the circumstance. "I really have to go back. My friend might be worried sick," he stepped backward and waited for a reaction. The blonde's gaze never left him. He felt a chill up his spine. Despite his help, he was still wary of the other.

He surprised David more times than any ordinary corpse could in a day. Nobody can blame him for putting his guard up, even after putting it down dangerously around a threat. He keeps walking backward until he is sure there is enough space between them, and he turns and runs back to the cabin. The area was cleared thanks to Gwen, but she was nowhere in sight. When he neared, he looked around for any sign that she'd been taken away by force. He rounded a corner and stilled as a machete halted in mid-air in front of him.

"Oh my god, David! You're alive!" He was tackled backwards when Gwen launched herself at him. They hugged briefly. Then the full force of her hand hit him square in the cheek. He has no time to recover before being pelted by Gwen's ranting.

"You completely ignored everything I told you!" and "You could've been dead for all I know!" and "Don't stray off like that. If something happens to us, there's no going back to undo it." Her shoulders drooped and David felt the crushing guilt suffocate him as tears rolled down her cheek. He opened his mouth to say something—anything, but Gwen angrily wiped them away.

"I'm sorry," came his meek reply. Her hardened gaze on him softened.

She laid a hand on his parka, running over the dry blood stains. She yanked him forward and thoroughly inspected his arms and shirt. David had no idea how to explain everything that happened, but he reassured her two-hundred percent that he was unharmed. She checked him a second time. She relaxed when David was true to his words. The duo started walking back, leaving the bloody mess behind them.

"You're going to have to wash that up," Gwen threw over her shoulder as they entered the cabin. She removed her finger-less gloves and fixed her hair again. The kids threw him suspicious glances but after clarifying that he was definitely not bitten, they let it go.

"There's actually a lake close by. You could wash up there," Max offered. "In fact, Neil and I were talking about setting up some defenses. There's another cabin out there, near the lake. We tried opening it but it's locked," Max shoved his hands in his hoodie. That sounds like a plan. He and Gwen could clear the area and maybe make this Camp Campbell place worth living in. He turns to her to see her reaction and was glad to see the smile on her face.

"Then let's get going, shall we?" They brought their weapons with them. No matter the occasion, they should always be prepared for a fight. It will cost them their lives someday. They divided the group into two with Gwen leading Neil and Preston while David stayed with Max and Space Kid. His friend suggested they check out the cabin and see if he can get it do open. She volunteered to help Neil with setting up their makeshift fence.

David took in their surroundings and was fairly surprised he had not noticed it before. The lake's water sparkled. He was afraid to scoop it up and taint it with his dirty hands. But the smell was starting to get to him so he sat and splashed water on his face. He scrubbed his arms raw to get rid of the decaying scent. His shirt was a goner, unless he took the time to launder it by the lake. He remembers their task at hand and made quick work of himself. Soon, he was brushing back his damp auburn hair and relishing the cool air that hit his face.

"I can't believe we just watched you take a bath," Max groaned from behind.

"The water must be so nice," Space Kid gushed. Once David stood and grabbed his bat, the kids were on their feet. They trailed beside him as they neared the cabin. He tried the door for luck but it didn't budge. They circled the cabin until he found a window. He peered inside and sighed in relief when there were no present decaying bodies inside like he expected. He swung his bat and flinched as glass shards flew. The kids kept their distance and David inspected himself for any damage.

"Why didn't we do that sooner?" Max face-palmed. David climbed in carefully, avoiding the sharp glass and made his way to the door. He let the kids in and they all stood in wonder. The cabin had two bunk beds, a desk, and a closet. David didn't need anyone to remind him to keep his guard up. He approached the closet with careful steps but relaxed when there was no threat inside. Instead, in folded heaps, there were green shirts. They looked dusty and David flipped one over.

The shirt had a dark green pine tree logo on the front. He shrugged and decided to keep it. He could change into it later after he cleans his shirt by the lake. He grabs one for Gwen too—and maybe the rest of them. The group went back and forth as they deposited things they found in the mess hall. David figured it was risky to separate the group so he pulled the dusty mattresses off the bunk beds and placed them on the mess hall's floor. The desk and the metal frames, he left in the cabin. There was not much in the drawers except a couple useless receipts and a candy wrapper.

They ended up disposing the corpses when the smell started to get around. David pulled on their lifeless bodies and dumped them somewhere decently far from them. He had to knock out two more when they came across his path. Deep breaths, he always reminded himself.

Gwen's group was not done yet when David and the kids finished arranging the mattresses on the floor and stealing the shirts from the closet. They laundered the shirts they had been wearing since the outbreak began and occasionally glanced behind their shoulders in case of...any unwanted guests.

The tension seemed to dissipate when Space Kid splashed into the water. He pulled Max in as the boy screamed profanities at him. Space Kid was undeterred. After reassuring himself that the area was clear and putting his bat within reaching distance, David climbed in after them. He took the opportunity to properly clean himself and rid himself of the scent of death.

They changed into the matching green tees they found in the cabin. It took Max a couple convincing before finally letting go of his yellow shirt, albeit begrudgingly. A moment of silence passed before they laughed at how ridiculous they all looked. It looked as if David were a camp counselor ready to lead a bunch of campers.

It certainly looked that way when he passed by Gwen's group with Max and Space Kid in tow. To say that he found Gwen's jaw-dropping astonished expression hilarious was an understatement.

"My god, you look like you're about to lead the dorkiest army on earth." She deadpanned. Preston looked at them in awe. Neil made a face at them.

"Where can I get one? I want in! We can wear matching shirts and start a revolution!" The boy pumped his fist, abandoning Gwen and Neil. Gwen exaggerated a pained expression and placed a hand over her heart.

"Abandoning your mates. Have you stooped so low, Preston?" David gave her credit for her acting. It's not every day he saw her playing along.

"I'm sorry, Gwen dear. You may be cold in my professions, warm in my friendships. But I am not throwing away my shot!" exclaimed Preston as he joined David's side.

Gwen dropped the act, seemingly unable to catch up to him. Max offers to help Neil and Gwen set up a barrier–which is currently made up of more steel wire and rope. They were putting it around the tree trunks and looping it around the next tree. Honestly, David thought it silly and it did not provide him any reassuring thoughts that this could stop the living dead. But.. it is still better than nothing.

They gave Preston a shirt and helped Gwen and Neil set up their barrier for the rest of the day. They worked nonstop and double-checked to check the tautness. With the adults' help, they were able to tighten the rope and wire around the trunks. Neil explained that, at least for the meanwhile, the rope will hinder the undead from walking accidentally into their camp. Max brought up the idea that they might crouch and crawl in. But at the time, they were all too exhausted to double their defenses. David could tell the gears in Neil's head were working when they gathered back in the mess hall to quench their hunger.

"Will wood fortify our defenses?" Max absentmindedly picked at his canned food.

"Typical resources. Wood will be efficient if we chopped the trees and cut them into pieces." Neil mumbled under his breath. "But should we sharpen them like spears? I saw it work in a TV show once. That'll take up too much time–assuming we're even able to cut down trees." Neil rubbed his face.

The kids were bickering over ideas when Gwen sat down beside David on the floor. He smiled when he saw she changed into the green shirt. "Don't say a word," she deadpanned. "I look stupid."

"What does that make me?" David laughed. He received a long look from her. He had a feeling Gwen was stifling her insults.

He cleared his throat and watched the kids from the end of the room. He can tell Gwen's about to give him a scolding for what he had done earlier that day. I mean, even I would punch myself in the face, came his thoughts. David has been breaking rules lately—which is never a good sign. He has lived up to this day because he has been following the rules his friend laid out for both of them. Will he continue risking every second of his life just to satisfy his curiosity? He has been told he acts out of a superman complex, but sometimes even David needs saving from himself.

"You wanna tell me what made you stray off like that?" She picked on the frayed ends of her jeans, seemingly concerned and annoyed with him at the same time.

"I do. I think I'm becoming delusional," he gulped. He recounts the whole thing to her in detail, watching her expression. She still had a look on her face that screams "you seriously eff'ed up, David. And now I have to sit here and listen to you like the good friend I am". He mentions his encounter with a particular corpse and suddenly, she's all wide-eyed.

"You're telling me," she started. "That the guy you saw the other night may or may not have recognized you through the window," David winced, nodding. "And he... didn't bite your head off. I mean—he helped you," she looked at him warily, as if clarifying what he's told her.

"Yup,"

"I'm honestly not sure what to say, David," she said, "either you are delusional, or the infected are slowly becoming smarter than we thought they'd be. And that's a whole lot scarier," a shiver went down their spine. If the virus in their brain—hypothetically speaking if this virus was a living entity—somehow managed to understand and adapt to their surroundings, then they will be in big trouble.

Silence stretched between them, the direness of their situation settling on their shoulders. The kids have decided to crawl onto their mattresses, leaving one bed empty for the adults. David was envious of how these kids could sleep so soundly. They had nothing to worry about; they had adults who'll protect them. Their lives rested on David and Gwen, which doubled the weight on them. They were the only hope left of humanity. Youth meant a chance of prolonging their existence—of humans who aren't infected. Who knows, maybe the next generation could be exposed to said infection and be immune to it. But that was just David's wishful thinking.

"You go on ahead," David found himself offering to take the first watch. But after recent events, Gwen gave him a reasonable look of disbelief.

"You're fucking with me," she said. "David, I think you should rest. I don't mean to sound like a dick but, I can't trust you to your own devices." She got up. "What if something went wrong and you..." she trailed off, knowing she's done enough to belittle him. David looks down to hide the shame evident in his face. He knew full well that he could screw up anytime. Gwen was only looking out for them.

But something told him to fight back. He won't screw up this time.

"It's okay, Gwen. Really," he stood up as well. "I won't do anything that'll potentially harm any of us," he looked around at the peaceful sleeping faces and felt his heart twist. These children don't deserve to be put in this horrible situation. Nobody did.

"I got this," he looks at her dead on and refuses to look away. Gwen challenged back but a yawn escaped her. "Look," he softens up. "I promise I'll wake you at the first sign of danger. I won't go out on my own or do anything that'll attract attention." He looks out the window and sees no more than three corpses walking. The other one was a silhouette in the distance.

He looks back and he almost jumps out of his skin when Gwen's machete is pointed right at him. She looks down on him from the end of the blade, calculating eyes and a frown marring her face. She maneuvers it toward her and is now offering it to him by the handle.

"Just in case a little threat managed to come by and you couldn't help yourself," she said, lowering it on his shaky hands. "It's a lot easier to use than your bat. Lighter, sharper, kills quicker," she mumbles. He accepts the machete like a blessing and stares at her dumbfounded.

"Goodnight, David." She turns and heads for their mattress. He watches her from across the room, wondering what made Gwen summon that kind of courage to part with her weapon. The man feels a sort of pride swell within him. Gwen still trusts him. After everything.

So he grabbed a chair they moved in from earlier and faces the window. He is going to keep an eye out and not do anything stupid. Not go out into the woods at night. Not fulfill his urge to run away, anywhere, that could provide a safer abode than this. He's going to sit and do his job.

And wait he did. He fiddled with the blade, careful not to get cut. But as hours ticked by and the familiar lull of the darkness enveloped him, the brunette was blinking himself awake. He could not help the heavy lids that yearned to close for the night, but he fought to stay awake. In his state, David felt like he was half-dreaming.

'Darla was nursing her wounded knee. She claims she got scrapped up while they were being chased. That would explain the thump! he heard when they were running and the voice from behind him calling out "I'm fine, keep going!". They rounded a corner and crawled behind an overturned car. They waited as three people ran by, guns in the air and yelling obscenities.

A week has passed and the virus isn't the only thing people are afraid of anymore—loss of supplies, territory. They have broken their unity in fear for their own safety. It didn't take long for the assholes to start showing up. They were usually the ones holding a gun threatening to shoot anything that moves. He and Darla had been lucky to escape these lunatics.

"Are you sure you're okay?" David crawled toward her, looking at the small cut on her knee. She hissed as she tried to cover it with her hands. David insists they wrap it up, even if it was small. He tears up his sleeve, folds it, and ties it around Darla's knee. The space between them was filled with bated breaths—and on Darla's part, unspoken words. When the man finished up with the makeshift bandage, the girl held onto his wrist fast before he could back away.

Shocked, he looks straight up at her. It looked like she wanted to say something. Her mouth opened and closed like she contemplated saying something yet she formed no words—but her eyes were intense. She looked deep into his eyes, silently communicating. But David can't understand what she was asking for, until she leaned in and almost closed the distance when David backed away in panic. He hit the wall hard. He rubbed a sore spot on his head and couldn't focus on what Darla was saying. She seemed to be explaining herself and showing concern for him all at once. It was an awkward experience none of them mentioned of ever again, but David knew there was something more to her concerned looks and prolonged physical contact. Then Gwen came along and David noticed Darla distancing herself.'

"Hm?" David jolted awake, shaking his head to rattle the sleepy spirit within him.

Looking around, he remembers he is tasked to keep an eye out. His attention is brought to the window when a soft tapping emanated from the glass. A silhouette of a man showed through the slits of the boards. David stands up immediately, almost knocking the chair back. He looks around, down at the kids, and sighs when they are all sleeping.

The tapping does not stop. He carefully approaches the window, machete in hand and gait wavering. The tapping on glass synced with the pumping of his anxious heart. Once David nears the window, he can make out the unmistakable blue eyes looking back at him from the other side. He almost drops the machete in fright, the same time the tapping stops.

It can't be, he repeated over and over. He took a step back. His eyes never left the silhouette. Their camp was fenced with rope. Granted, they could crawl in, but not if these things found nothing interesting to go after. It was a weak theory and they have yet to test it.

This one managed to get in. And getting this close to the window meant he easily avoided the trip wires too. If the tapping meant anything, did that mean he knew David was awake? The ceasing of it clearly means he has already seen him. He stands there, in front of him with only glass and wooden boards separating them.

"This is so insane," David mumbles under his breath, looking at the man outside and at the door to their cabin. It's locked, but that didn't give him any sense of security. Surely, this man wants something. He isn't like the corpses he saw the other day, or the last. He wasn't like any of them except his inability to speak. The brunette steps forward again, coming close to the window. The man watches him closely from their distance. Goosebumps run up his arm.

Close enough to reach through the glass if he wanted, but he does not. David squints at him. A compelling thought enters his brain. Go outside and talk to him.

He wants to tell himself it is to put an end to this weirdness. He wants to tell himself it is to make him feel comfortable without having this one weird zombie—okay, he finally caved in—follow him around.

He walks to the door.

He wants to tell himself it is to put Gwen's machete to good use.

He puts a hand on the chain wrapped around the door's handles.

He wants to tell himself it is really nothing and will not put anyone's lives in danger.

He hesitates, looks back and is relieved to see the silhouette still there. He hasn't moved.

He wants to tell himself... but he can't. He is a curious individual who will stop at nothing to get his answers. He unchains the door, closes it behind him and walks out with a different objective in mind. The crunching of his boots on the ground resonates in the quiet area. The brunette tightens his grip on the machete as he tells himself to stay calm. He rounds the corner where the window should be facing.

The man is gone.