I bounce on my toes as I stand at the gates, giddily ignoring the few murmurs from the townspeople as they walk by. Finally after a good week and a half of staying inside I'm anxious to go out and actually do something besides working in that God-awful kitchen. I hate that place, mostly because I have to do the dishes, also known as my most hated chore as a child.

Plus it'll get me away from Milo, Willis, and now Penelope's (still quiet but a bit more brave) constant following. It's flattering really, but that paired with Caleb constantly trying to make sure I'm okay and Sam apologizing for his words... it's becoming a tad too much.

"Raise the gates!" Sam yells, the familiar yet slightly less annoying alarm sounding off. "And go."

I sprint off out of Abel, grinning when I see there's no zoms I have to avoid. Since it's been a week or so, it'll take me a few minutes to get warmed up, so not having to worry about any zombies starting off is a blessing.

"Hey, Runner Five..." Sam says softly, "how are you doing after that night run through zombie territory?"

I sigh, tapping out my reply over my mic. 'It's been over a week. I'm fine-'

"I know you said you were okay," He argues, although his voice still has its calm tone. "But you did try to, you know, hang yourself just so you wouldn't get bitten. So, are you sure you're-"

"Runner Five is doing fine," an American voice cuts him off. "Did the checkup myself-just the normal effects of shock and cold."

Really regretted leaving that jacket.

"She had no cuts, no broken bones-"

"No bite marks." I can hear the smile in his voice as he says that.

"And the only contusions she got were from the fall when she arrived and uh, from the rope." There's a bit of hesitation in the doctor's voice but I ignore it, and instead focus on keeping my breathing steady.

It wasn't the smartest choice I ever made when I tried to kill myself, but I would have definitely had to put an axe through my brain if I had gotten bit. So what other choice did I really have?

"It's useful for us," the doctor continues. "We're building evidence that the walking dead may have poorer vision than we thought.

"Yeah, although..." Sam lets out a very forced laugh, "not poor enough to start doing night operations, right? Right?"

God, I hope not. Because I never want to put myself through that again.

"I don't think anyone sees any need for that, Sam."

"Good," He breathes, "because I can't cope with another one of those."

'Took the words right out of my hands, Sam,' I tap quickly against the mic, smiling when I hear a airy chuckle in response.

"I'm guessing she said something funny?" Dr. Meyers guesses.

"Uh, yeah. Sort of..." He responds, and I wait to see if he'll explain my little joke or not. "So, ah, what's on the cards today, Doc? See? I could've said 'what's up, Doc?' I don't that'd be inconsiderate but I like to make my own material every once and awhile."

I roll my eyes, grabbing my backpack strap for a quick second. I roll my shoulders in experimentation and wince at the pain that comes at doing so, but still noting it isn't nearly as bad as it used to be. With my neck and shoulders still needing to recover I can't swing my arms like I'm used to. It messes up my rhythm and I'm not too fond of it.

Dr. Meyers says something in response to Sam's comment, but I don't quite catch it. Then she addresses me.

"Just a quiet training mission today, Runner Five, just to see how you're fairing. You'll be passing through an area where med pacs have been dropped. I wanna get on a research project but I don't have enough basic equipment yet." I nod as she continues to explain. "And then out to the old mill-east of the city-we think there's some food stored there. Ready? Time to run."

'Did you think I've been frolicking through the field of daisies picking flowers for Caleb this whole time?' The sarcastic remark probably isn't the smartest thing to say, and it's not even a good one-most of my church friends would be disappointed-now that I think about it. But really, I'm already starting perspire. That doesn't just come from me standing here.

"What did she say?" She asks.

"She asked if you thought she was frolicking through..." Sam's voice trails off. "Wait, why Caleb?"

'That's what you got out of my really stupid sarcastic remark?'

"N-no, I'm just wondering. And you're right, that was terrible sarcasm."

"What's she saying, Sam?" Dr. Meyers asks again, but apparently he ignores her.

"But seriously, of all people, why Caleb?"

'He was just the first on my mind,' I snicker. 'Would you like me to pick you some daisies too, Sam?'

He scoffs, but says nothing. I grin at how easy it is to get him just annoyed enough to be agitated, but not enough for him to be angry. Although really my question is why does he seem to care so much about me talking about Caleb, and about getting him flowers?

I shrug it off, listening to the music that's been put on for me. After a good ten minutes of running I hear Dr. Meyers speak through my headset.

"You should see a few med kits left in front of that old shack. Be sure to get as many as you can carry. If there are any left we'll send another runner after them."

I nod and head towards the shack, picking up the four medical kits and shoving them into my backpack after removing my axe. But my eyes wander to something just around the corner of the shack-a small box.

"Be quick, Five. We still need to get the old mill," She reminds me, but I ignore her and pick up the box. The writing on the paper has been worn away by the weather, so I tear at it to see what's inside.

Jackpot!

I smile widely as I look at the shot gun shells in the box. I shove it in my backpack, still making sure there's enough room for whatever food I may find in the mill.

"What'd you find, Five?" Sam inquires. "I saw you pick up something from the camera."

'Nothing big. Just a box of shotgun shells.'

"Five, that's awesome. We've been running low on those, and I can hear the sarcasm, even if you're using Morse Code."

I smirk. 'I'm impressed. Not many can pick up on things like that.'

"Well, I think I've gotten pretty good at reading you, Five."

'I'm going to keep letting you think that.'

"Are you saying I don't know you as well as I think I do?" He questions teasingly.

'That's exactly what I'm saying,' I respond.

"Well, you'd be surprised-"

"If you two would quit flirting and focus on the mission, that would be great," The doctor interrupts. "And what'd she find?"

I nearly trip over my own feet at that, sending a glare at no one in particular. I make a mental note to punch Caleb since I can't do that to the doctor because... well, she's a doctor.

"F-for one: we weren't flirting," Sam answers, sounding flustered. "And two: Runner Five found a box of shotgun shells."

"That's great," She exclaims, continuing on without a second thought on her previous words. "You're doing well, Runner Five. Everything looks clear."

That's good, I think to myself, shaking off the twinge of embarrassment from a second ago. Because these med kits are heavier than I remember.

"Have we heard anything from New Canton since the attack?"

"Heard from?" Sam repeats. "You mean they'd actually communicate with us? Without using bullets? Nah, not so much, no. All quiet on the New Canton front. My guess is they tried to trap one of our runners, failed, and are cooking up on something else."

"That's what we get for not joining the New Canton collective, I guess," She muses.

"Yep," He chirps in agreement.

'Okay, now I am being one the left out. What is the New Canton collective?' I say, curiosity getting the best of me.

"Oh, right. Sorry, Five. I forgot you haven't heard about that."

"It seems like ancient history," Dr. Meyers sighs, "but maybe you never heard the story."

'How'd you guess?'

"What'd she say?"

"Oh um, just another sarcastic remark," He replies and I huff.

'Thanks for ratting me out, Sam.'

"Anytime." I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Short version of our history with New Canton: When the world went mad everyone was seeking shelter," She explains in a slightly annoyed tone. "New Canton started off as an old castle; ample food supplies, extra protection, guns and excellent sniper positions on the tower."

I listen with interest as I reach down and grab two objects as I pass by. Looking at it I see yet another spots bra and a brass pin. Another thing to help the Township as well as a new trinket for my collection. I've missed that the most in the few days I was forced to stay cooped up in Abel, because now I can say I found another thing that I can call mine and mine alone.

"Perfect place to survive the apocalypse," Sam says. "Also, perfect place to imprison a bunch of people and force them to live according to your dictates if they want to live."

I blink in surprise.

Wow. I had a feeling that New Canton was bad but I never thought it would be that bad. I wonder if they're anything like the AMTB.

But I immediately reject the thought. No, no one knew the AMTB was as bad as it is, not even most of the officials. The only ones who did were the those three liars who held power, those who they persuaded to work for them, and...

And those like me. The unlucky ones.

"We don't actually know if that is what's going on over there," Dr. Meyers counters, to which Sam 'tsk's in reply.

"We don't know anything about what's going on over there. That-that's the whole point. Everywhere else you get radio guys talking to each other when the atmosphere is right; runners passing info; chatting on Roufflenet."

"Do we have to call it that?" The doctor asks, and I roll my eyes.

'You do realize the internet had a thing called 'Yahoo', 'Wattpad', and 'Kik', right? 'Roufflenet' really isn't that much of a stretch for odd names.'

"Yeah, that is true," Sam mutters, "but aside from Five's reasoning-"

"Which I didn't understand."

"-the world's ended. We have no time for dignity. Anyway, most of the other places you hear from but New Canton? Official orders, communicays, and the occasional refugee. And there was a time they weren't mopping up survivors; they came to us. A team of three people-not military, but really stiff-two guys and a girl. Told us if we wanted to survive then we should head over there."

The old mill comes into my view, but it's still a good few minutes away. I can see figures around the mill. Or at least, I think they're figures, but I can't tell if they're people or zombies from the distance. With the sun right in front of me it makes them look merrily like dark skinned humans, but judging on the amount I see, I very much doubt it.

"Well, the Major," He laughs, "you don't threaten the Major."

"Not even by accident," Dr. Meyers adds. "Since then, well... if you're not with them, you're against them. You should be coming up to that old mill pretty soon."

I internally groan when I see all the rotting flesh bags surrounding the mill, the sun now hidden behind the actual building and giving me a clear view of the disgusting creatures.

"That's quite a few zoms," Sam mumbles. "Maybe we should wait before looking for food. Distracting those zombies and turning around to get the food would use a lot of energy, and this doesn't seem like a very good solo mission."

"You're right," She agrees. "You seem to be doing okay, Runner Five, but you should probably turn to head back. We don't want you to exhaust yourself after a week off."

I'm not exactly sure if that's the best idea, since the food maybe gone next time we come looking for it, but since this is my first mission after being the cold night of the zombie wilderness, I trust Sam and the doctor.

"Help! Help! I'm trapped up here!"

What the hell?

My eyes scan around the mill in search for the mystery voice and my eyes widen as Sam speaks.

"Or... mmm... maybe don't head on back just yet," He says as I keep my eyes locked on the man onto the roof of the mill. "Okay, Runner Five. From what I see on the scanner there's a pack of probably fifty surrounding that old mill, and I can see one person on the roof."

'Yep, that summed it up about right.' I answer, and Sam makes a noise in acknowledgement.

"He's..."

"Help me!" The man yells from his spot on the roof. I can't exactly see his face with the sun just peeking out making him practically a silhouette, not to mention the distance. But the tone in his voice is clear. He's scared, but now hopeful to get out of here alive.

"Uh... so yeah, Five. Looks like quite a few of the zoms are wearing New Canton overalls." He scoffs. "Do you believe they took time to make their special overalls in the apocalypse?"

I squint at the outfits worn by the New Canton zombies. If they did take time they didn't take much of it, because they don't look all that great.

"I think they're just repurposed Crota Brankroff company overalls with 'NC' written on the back with market pen," Dr. Meyers corrects, and there's a small fraction of silence that follows.

"Uh, yeah. That makes more sense to be honest."

"Help me!"

"Anyway, looks like that guy on the roof might be the last survivor of a New Canton supply expedition."

"If you make enough noise they should chase away from here," the man shouts, "then I can come down! If you circle back then we can run back together! Hurry!"

I'm a bit wary of helping him, giving the story my radio operator and doctor told me on this very mission, but I remind myself that a life is a life. It's a very valuable thing, especially now.

Sam groans into my headset, snapping me out of my mental talk with myself. I look up and flinch as I see the zombies making their way towards me, jaws open with reached out hands eager to grab onto some fresh meat.

"Yeah, I-I think they're chasing you anyway, Runner Five. You haven't got much choice," Sam informs, but by now I'm already gone, leading most of them away from the mystery New Canton runner.

"Run!"

I breathe in quick pants as I run, taking a quick look over my shoulder to see those chasing me, and fortunately only see a few running after me while the rest simply jog or shamble along. They must've recently changed-the faster ones. Given by their slightly jerky movements maybe three days or so.

"Okay. Okay, you're doing well," Sam praises. "Uh, now they've got your scent, or your sight or whatever it is zombies get but they're not too close. Keep going and then you'll circle around and then head back to the mill while they're still stumbling after you. Could work."

'That's not very reassuring,' I tap but still do as Sam instructed.

"Sorry."

"Could we really trust that New Canton runner to still be there when Runner Five gets back?" Dr. Meyers questions, and I can't help but wonder that myself, or wonder if he'll try to pull anything.

"Well, if not, no harm done, right? Runner Five's fast enough to get out of there."

"Over here!" The man calls as he jogs his way over towards me, laughing-happily and not psychotically, much to my relief. I study his features once he's close enough, and I see that his looks match his raspier voice; broad shoulders, dirty blond hair, ocean eyes, and a five-o'clock shadow. Overall he looks like a pretty nice person, but I've come to the realization that looks can be very deceiving.

"I'm out. I'm down. I'm okay. That was a close one. I don't mind telling you I'm glad to be alive." He reaches out and gives my hand a good shake, causing for me to stumble a bit and struggle to keep upright and running. "Name's Lem, or Runner Thirty-eight-that's what they call me. From New Canton, and you just saved my life. Grateful doesn't even cover it."

He smiles at me and I give a small smile in return. Lem looks ahead and presses one finger to his headset. "Yeah? Yeah, it's a runner from Abel Township. No, not hostile. This runner here just saved my life."

He lets out a chortle and looks at me with eyes shining, and I find it hard to believe someone like this man would be a part of the city that tried to kidnap me just a week and a half ago.

This could just be an act. He could be faking every word, just like somebody else I once knew...

"Operators back at base, they just don't know how it is here in the field, am I right?" His smile broadens as I nod slowly, looking behind to see the zoms not too far behind. "I don't mind telling you, you got me out of quite a jam in there. We were looking for extra food stores down at the mill. Open up the basement, found it full of the undead. They were just lunging at us to get out.

"Three of my buddies are gone gray. If you hadn't come up, I don't know what I would've done."

I smile awkwardly at the flattery. 'Thank you for the kind words, although I don't see much need for them.'

"I don't know much sign language, but I recognized the thank you," He replied. "And you shouldn't be thanking me for anything. They've had me trapped up there for two days already, and I had to fight off the few that didn't chase you as I was coming down. One of them almost got his teeth into my arm, but I don't think it broke the skin."

I look at his arm, and the blood instantly drains from my face. Lem notices my expression and looks down at his arm, his eyes widening as he sees the crimson blood running down his arms to his hands and finally dripping off his fingers onto the hard dirt ground.

"Shoot, it broke the skin. That's not good." As if on cue, he starts to cough, and I can't stop the pinched look that appears on my face as I know what's happening. "And they're still on our tails. Run!"

I keep running, my eyes glancing over to Lems figure every few seconds as his coughs become more violent and frequent. He tries to muffle them with his arm but it does little good.

"I guess I should run as far away from you as I can, huh?" He coughs, peering over to meet my eyes before looking forward and placing a finger on his headset once more. "Nadia? Nadia, there's nothing you can do. I'm bit. I'm gone already."

I see his face scrunch up as a new found sadness appears into his blue irises. "Oh, Nadia, don't cry. We've had a good time, haven't we, honey?" He coughs violently, gasping for breath but each inhale leads to an exhale of more coughs. "More than most people got. I don't want you to hear this, honey. Don't want you to hear me change.

"Just you remember me the way it was, okay? You promise? That's a good girl. I'm turning off the mic now." He flicks a small button on his headset and turns to me. He uses his arm to help muffle his raging cough. A heavy weight settles into my stomach, growing heavier and heavier with each strangled sound that leaves the man's mouth.

"Abel Township Runner, you tried to save my life and that at least means something." He takes off his headset and hands it to me. "Here, take this. Humanity can't afford to waste tech, right? You take that headset, and do something with it."

I reluctantly wrap my fingers around the headset, keeping it in my hand since it could get crushed in my backpack. With my free hand I sign the out 'Thank you.'

He nods somberly. "I'm gonna head off that way, make as much noise as I can to draw the pack away from you. Do something with your life, Runner, and don't forget me."

His ragged coughs start to drift as he runs away from me.

"Come and get me, you disgusting fiends from hell!" He hacks. "Come and freaking chase me!"

As his voice and the zombies' growls and moans fade away, I'm welcomed with only the sound of my footsteps treading into the ground with my pounding heartbeat to match the rhythm.

"Was that... Ace Rimmer?"

"He's dead, Sam. Show some respect."

"Sorry. Sorry," He says, laughing a small bit. "I-I... yeah. It's just, yeah. Sorry... what a guy. He's uh, he's bought you a bit of time there, Five, but keep running. Still a long way from home."

Music fills my ears, it's tune happy as upbeat, but I ignore it, my mind filling with guilt.

I could've done something-made more noise, not run as fast so I would've caught all of their attention.

There's nothing I could've done...

I'm just saying this to keep myself from feeling guilty.

But I'm not guilty...

Isn't that people said about Wes? I killed him. I'm responsible. Everyone I know who's died is because of me and me alone.

I know...

•

"Okay, you're nearly here," Sam states. "Just keep running steady like you're doing. That's great."

I smile at his compliment, but it quickly slips away as I acknowledge the fact that I don't deserve it.

"What was that thing Lem gave Runner Five?" Dr. Meyers asks.

"Headset, I think?" Sam hums. "Technology?"

'It's a headset,' I tap quickly. My face is void of emotion as I keep running forward, swinging my arm without thinking and clenching my teeth at the ache that appears in my shoulder.

I deserve it.

"Oh, alright," He responds with an emotion in his voice I can't quite place. "I guess we'll take a look at it when Five gets in."

I keep running to the music with a straight face, only raising a brow when I hear Lem's headset crackle. I pull it close to my ear, immediately regretting it thereafter.

"Runner Thirty-eight?" A female voice calls out pleadingly, and I grit my teeth and close my eyes just for a minute. "Runner Thirty-eight! Lem, report!"