My hands furiously sign in hopes to get Sarah to talk to me about Project Greenshoot, but she ignores me and continues running, talking to Sam when he tunes in. I grit my teeth in frustration as I try not to strangle the older runner then and there.

You can't just say stuff like that and expect me to keep going like this is a casual thing! That's not how this stuff works!

Oh, how I wish I could growl in frustration right now.

"How're you doing, Five?" Sam questions. "You've been awfully quiet."

'I'm always quiet, Sam,' I reply, my fingers tapping harshly on the mic.

"Well, uh-uh yeah but usually you say something, you know," He stumbles. "A lot of the times it's really, really bad sarcasm and I'm not making this any better for myself, am I?"

"Don't mind her, Sam. Five's just feeling a bit down since she had to take out her chopper pilot," Sarah cuts in. "She'd just turned when we got there."

"You mean she was alive this whole time?" He asks in disbelief. "But how-"

'Emergency food and really good hiding skills,' I answer quickly. 'If we would've come earlier she... would still be alive.'

"Don't feel bad, Five," Sam reassures calmly. "You didn't know."

I don't answer. I can't not feel bad about this. In the moment, I felt barely anything. I was too worried about saving my own skin to feel guilty, but now... now I feel terrible.

I reach down and pick a wooden pencil. It's small, but useful, plus keeping the eye out for random items helps distract me... just a little.

"So you found everything you needed to?"

"Oh, I think so," Sarah chirps. "Although Five here is still as nameless as ever, unless you want to call her 5572148."

"What?"

I scrunch up my face in a grimace. I was never called that at Mullins, but still that's who I was-who I am. My old name died when I left the AMTB. This 'name' I have... it's what Mullins paid to have me.

"That's what it says on her name."

'Since my name was not important enough to be put on my card it's not important enough to be talked about.' I keep my lips pursed as Sarah sends me an odd look, but I pay her no mind as we get closer to Abel.

"Oh, y-yeah. I guess so but... yeah." There's an awkward pause. "Raise the gates!"

I ignore the blare of the gates and run inside the town, opening my pack and dumping out the contents to be inspected. Following the doctor to the small tent, I stay silent and do what she says to make this as quickly as possible. As soon as I'm finished, Sarah comes in.

I click off my headset, walking through the Township in frustration. Why won't she tell me about Project Greenshoot now? Why wait?

This isn't some weird story where I have to be 'ready' or be told when 'the time is right'. This is what I was sent here for-to do this mission then... then go back home... or stay or whatever it is Project Greenshoot calls for.

"Runner Five," Willis calls, rushing towards me with Milo and Penelope on his heels. "Runner Five, did you find anything cool on your run?"

'Sure, if you think a pencil's cool,' I answer, although my face shows no indication of joking.

"Oh, that's actually not cool since we need those for school." Milo spits out the last word like it's poison, but his face immediately brightens. "But it means I can draw more. Look at this stretch I made last night."

He pulls out a folded piece of paper to me. "I wanted to show you this morning, but you got oatmeal doused all over you."

I remember.

I study at the sketch in my hand, my eyebrows lifting sat the skill of it. It's a house, but the detail in it is amazing.

There's little smudges drawn on the windows and patches of paint peeling off the door. The little shed to the house's right has a pad lock around the chain which surrounds the doors' handles, and the windows in it are drawn dusted and in desperate need of a wash. There's a scratchy engraving on one of the trees in the background.

"It's our old house," He explains, "before all this happened."

I tip my head to the side questionably as I hand the drawing back to him. 'You remember your house?'

"Yeah, well, Willis and I do. Penelope was only three." A shadow casts over his face and my mind panics in need to change the subject.

'Where's Caleb?' I ask quickly.

"I think he's packing," Penelope all but whispers, and I blink at the girl, trying to comprehend her words.

'Packing?'

"Well, yeah. The people from Brunswick will be leaving in a few days, remember?" Willis shrugs, and Milo nods, his previous mood gone.

'Where are they going to?'

And most importantly why didn't Caleb tell me?

"Back to Brunswick. The ones who stayed finished rebuilding a few days ago, I think," Willis answers. "I overheard my teacher talking about it."

"Speaking of school if you're only a few years older than us why don't you go to it?" Milo questions, and I keep a straight face.

'Because I already have a job as a runner and knowing how to do Trigonometric Functions isn't going to help me with it. Plus I can't exactly sign the combined term of 'you all' so English has no use for me either.'

The three all stare in silence for a few moments.

"Do you mean 'ya'll'?" Willis sends me a funny look when I nod. "Who even says that?"

Arkansans and Texans.

'I do, or did. Anyway, where is Caleb's tent? I need to talk to him.'

Willis shrugs. "I don't know. He's never really invited us over for cookies or anything. The people from Brunswick are somewhere near Janine's farmhouse though."

'Thank you,' I sign quickly, before walking off towards those said tents.

Why would he not tell me he'll be leaving soon?

At that question I mentally smack myself in the head-something I should have done when I first asked it. He isn't obligated to tell me anything, just as I'm not obligated to tell him or anyone else here in Abel anything. We may be friends (although the only person I specifically told was my friend was Sam) but that doesn't mean he has to tell me this, although it would've been nice if he had.

After several failed attempts of looking discreetly in the tents for Caleb-a shoe was thrown at me by someone who lost definitely didn't want to be seen-I find his. He's doing exactly what Penelope guessed-packing, not noticing me as I stand there silently. There really isn't much to pack; Just a few clothing items, an old notebook, some CD of an artist I've never heard of...

"Are you going to come in or just stand there staring?" He smirks, his gaze flickering to meet mine before continuing to stuff and cram his belongings in his pack.

I ignore the blush of embarrassment spreading across my face and slowly step inside. The tent is barely big enough for one person, much less two, but still I stay. Standing there awkwardly I watch as Caleb grunts in annoyance as he tries to shove a shirt in his bag.

"Did you come here to talk or watch?" He asks, a certain irritation in his voice as he averts his attention to me.

'Well, it's kind of hard talk if you're attention is elsewhere. I am mute, you know.'

"I know." He lets out a huff of air and sits on his sleeping bag. "What is it you wanna talk about?"

'I kind of want to rant about something but since only a few people know about it, I can't. So I just came because I heard you'd be leaving in a few days.'

Caleb's face darkens at that. "Yeah. Everyone seems so excited too. 'I can't wait to get out of this awful town and go back home,'" He mimics before rolling his eyes. "Home. That place is not home. It's boring and isolated."

'You don't want to leave?' I question. Caleb stands and forcibly laughs.

"What gave it away?"

'Don't sass me. I will use sarcasm.'

He laughs at my threat, but I can't tell if the laugh is mockery or if it's genuine. "Your sarcasm is terrible."

'Exactly, which is why I will use it.'

He rolls his eyes in a more playful manner, but his smile fades just as quickly as it came, which results in my smile diminishing as well.

"I don't want to leave," He admits in a low whisper. "I don't want to leave because there's actual people my age here, there's fun here, or as fun as you can get in the apocalypse; there's socialization here, you're here."

My eyes widen in surprise at his confession, but I don't say anything, mostly because I don't know what to say. What do you say to something like that? I'm sorry? Yeah, that wouldn't make you sound stupid at all.

"I don't want to go," He whispers. His voice almost sounds broken and he refuses to look at me. "I don't..."

His words stop as he lets out a noise of discomfort and presses the palm of his hand to his chest while the older grabs the tent's pole for support. With panic I rush over to him, but really in this cramped space it's maybe just three or four steps.

"It's alright," Caleb mutters as his breathing quickens. "I just need to sit down."

I reach out to help him but he keeps himself from my grasp, plopping down on the sleeping back with a small thud. He doesn't look pained, just uncomfortable, but is breathing is too labored for my liking.

I kneel down in front of him and watch with worried eyes. His icy ones meet mine for a split second before traveling down to my hands, already knowing I'm going to ask questions.

'What's wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to get Dr. Meyers?'

"No, I'm fine." He gives a wave of his hand to dismiss it, but I notice something else.

I reach out and grab the hand he was previously waving around, and the intake of air he takes sounds almost like it hurt. I inspect his fingers, before turning my attention to his shock filled face.

'Your fingers are swollen,' I state, the worry only growing in my chest as he shrugs. 'Are you having an allergic reaction to something?'

"No, I-I be fine. This is just-" He stops his words quickly before continuing a different route. "I'll go see the doctor later since I have to help in the hospital anyway, but I know it's nothing."

'How?'

"I just do," He snaps a bit harsher than I think he meant to be because his eyes soften not even a second later. "Look, don't worry about me. The worst thing this could do is keep me from leaving which I honestly wouldn't mind."

I frown as he lightly laughs at his own joke. This doesn't feel right. It's not the 'gnawing in the stomach and tightening of the chest' feeling I had before New Canton tried to capture me. It's an uneasy feeling that seeps beneath the skin and bleeds is way into your bones. It's the type of feeling that will eventually consume you if it's dwelt on for too long.

Lucky for me I have experience in that department, but it has been quite a while since I've had to push down worry and concern. That being said, I'm probably going to be tossing and turning for a long few hours before I fall asleep tonight.

"So, what's this thing you want to rant about but can't say?" He places his chin in his hands and gives me a closed lipped smile.

'I told you, I can't say.'

"Oh, come on, Five. You can tell me anything, remember?" He dramatically fakes offense. "I can't believe you don't trust me after we friend hugged."

'You literally wrapped your arms around me and refused to let go,' I remind him, crossing my arms afterwards.

"You liked it. Don't lie."

I bite the inside of my cheek to suppress a smile. 'I never said that.'

"Just because you didn't-"

"Runner Five, there you are." Sam pokes his head into the already crowded tent. His breathing is quick and uneven, and his face is slightly flushed, as if he's been running. "I've been looking for you."

"Why?" Caleb questions before I can.

"Evan wants to see her," Sam answers with a slight frown. "It's about her I.D. But don't worry, Five. I know you're who you say you are."

I bite my lip at that. Well... I mean it's kinda true.

"Anyway, come on," He gives a slight jerk of his head towards the outside. "They're waiting for you at the armory."

They?

I turn back to Caleb one more time, still wary of what happened before. 'You're sure you're alright?'

'Don't worry,' He signs back, another closed smile on his lips. 'I promise I am okay.'

I nod, leaving the tent and following behind Sam as he leads me to the armory.

"Um, Five," Sam mutters with caution in his voice, "I uh, I'm sorry about your helicopter pilot. I know if we had gotten there sooner she'd still be alive most likely and... uh, yeah... I'm just-I'm sorry."

'It's alright,' I shrug. 'You didn't know. None of us did.'

But I were there when the crash originally happened. I could have found her and dragged her to safety.

It's my fault.

"Were you close?"

I shake my head. 'Barely knew her, but still I can't help from feeling guilty.'

"You? Why would you feel guilty?" He studies my face with curious eyes, and while there's no judgement in them, I can't help but clench and unclench my fists in discomfort.

'I just feel a little guilty that I'm alive and she is not,' I confess, although that's only half the truth.

I feel guilty because I'm glad it was her instead of me.

"Everybody feels like that sometimes," Sam answers simply. "Sometimes I-I wonder why I'm the one who's still alive and Alice is... dead."

I see a hint of pain flash in his dark eyes, but he forces a toothy grin and keeps walking. "But then again I'm grateful that I'm alive-that I still have the chance to do something with my life, even if it is rambling over the coms and playing terrible music since we only have about a dozen tracks to use."

'Who said your music choices were terrible?' I snicker.

"Oh, so you like listening to 'Eye of the Tiger' and 'Five-Hundred Miles' on every single run?" He jokes.

By now we've reached the armory, and even with our playful banter, I'm feeling a bit nervous, since there's only a few reasons I'd be called here to talk about my identification. I resist the urge to grab at the backpack strap that isn't there.

The armory isn't much. Just a few buildings surrounded by a cement gate just high enough that no troublesome teenagers or drunken idiots would be able to climb, and a barred entrance that seems very sturdy. It's nowhere near as good as the armory at Mullins, but it's the best part of the town of Abel.

I can see why, though. There's very valuable things here in need of keeping safe.

A part of me wonders why we'd meet here, but I quickly shut down my imagination to tell myself it's because this place has privacy.

Yeah. It's totally not that they're planning on shooting or stabbing me or anything... Yeah. Yeah.

"Don't worry, Five," Sam reassures, as if sensing my anxiety. "With how much you've done already here at Abel, I know you'll be in good favor with Evan and the others."

'Aren't you coming?' I ask, desperately hoping he'd say yes.

"Unfortunately no. This isn't any of my concern, at least that's what Janine said. Plus my break's almost over and I've got more runners to direct, but don't worry. I know you'll do fine."

I give a half-smile. It's nice to know someone truly believes in me.

I'm not sure how it happens. One minute we're just standing there, smiling like the idiots we are; The next my arms are wrapped around him in a hug. And as much as I hate to admit it, it feels nice...

Until I realize exactly what I'm doing.

I pull back in a flash, the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck slowly flowing to my face.

Why did I do that? That was a very, very bad decision. Why did I do that? When's the last time I initiated a hug anyway?

While I'm having a mini panic attack over my really, really dumb actions-I've been doing that quite a bit lately-Sam is still standing there, frozen as if his brain is malfunctioning. His expression is complete shock and surprise, and I smile sheepishly.

I'm an idiot.

'Friend hug.'

The movement of my hands seem to snap him out of whatever glitch he's in, and he laughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. "Heh, yeah. Friend hug."

"Ah, Runner Five."

I turn my attention to the gate, seeing Janine and Evan with arms crossed and faces stoic. They're both eyeing me in a way that nearly makes me squirm where I stand. That is until Janine turns her gaze to Sam, breaking whatever bizarre staring contest we were having.

"Thank you for retrieving Runner Five, Mr. Yao. You may leave."

"Oh, uh, right. Right. I just-"

"Have runners to guide?" Janine finishes, and Sam nods, casting a quick glance at me.

"Uh, yeah. That's it. I'll, uh... I'll just be going then."

He turns on his heel to leave, but not before giving a small wave, whether it was for everyone or just me I'm not sure, but I tell myself it's the latter. That's a much better option to believe, in certain ways.

"Come with us," Evan states. He only makes a small gesture for me to follow before turning and walking inside the armory and into another building, with Janine at his side and me not far behind.

We enter one of the buildings, only to see that it's bare. I'm not surprised though. It's common for the first room to not have any weapons, just incase someone does infiltrate the armory and try to steal weapons. They are most likely hidden behind some wall, or a secret room or underground. It's nice to know that even with the Township being as... it is, they still put the most important things first.

But after noticing the room I also notice the other two people in the room-Sarah Smith and Runner Seventeen, also known as Summer Swan. I recognize her from my sign language classes.

'So, is there a reason I'm needed here?' I ask, which Summer quickly repeats to the others.

"Yes, we'd like to talk about your I.D." Evan's tone is calm but I can tell it has that hint of arrogance as if the answer should've been obvious.

'I thought you said this I.D. would be enough.' I give Sarah a narrow eyed look.

"It would have been, but I got to thinking, what exactly does this number mean. I thought that might be your running I.D., but it says your runner number was Forty-Three."

I have to physically keep myself from flinching, although I do close my eyes for a brief moment. Out of all the things they had to keep from the AMTB, it had to be my running number.

"So what exactly does that mean, Runner Five?" Janine questions, and the suspicion in her voice is anything but hidden.

'It is a number. That's all. No significant meaning whatsoever.'

"Then why would it be in place of your name?"

'Because apparently 5572148 is easier to remember than my own name.'

Summer looks a bit nervous as she translates my words, but in all honesty I don't care. It has nothing to do with them or Abel Township, so why are they so curious.

"I've seen other Mullins' I.D.'s," Sarah buts in, and I mentally choke her. "And in everyone else's they had their names. This is why we're curious, Five. It seems like you're still hiding something from us."

I grind my teeth, so hard my jaw begins to ache from the pressure.

'Fine. You want to know what those numbers are? It's a document. One about the research on zombies. They give transfer Runners names of documents.' The answer is true but not true enough. It's not everything, but just telling this takes everything in me; brings back memories I don't want to resurface.

Summer seems a bit shocked at my answer, and it takes her a good twenty seconds before she realizes she has to repeat my words.

"Document?" Janine mutters, her face breaking the hard mask to show a slight sign of confusion.

I nod. 'And Mullins being as closed off as it is, you aren't going to get to read it.'

It's not like they have it anyway.

"But why would they name transfer runners after documents?" Evan asks skeptical. "Why would they name you after that specific document?"

Because that's what they had to give up to have me.

'Because apparently those pieces of paper are more valuable than my name.'

A/N: Happy Easter, everyone! I really hope you liked this chapter and if you did be sure to vote and comment! Speaking of voting and commenting, I'd like to that those who have done so on my other chapters. It really means a lot to me. Thanks, guys. Have a blessed day!