It's been six days, and yet I can still see that V-Type staring at us from the cliff in my mind.

The thought of it, and everything else that happened that day, distracted me from the fact that it was my birthday. In all honesty, I didn't care that it was my birthday. I just wanted that day to be over. I thought if it was over then we could move on with our plans on the burns cubes and I could stop picturing that V-Type studying us.

But I still haven't. I still remember. It haunts me. Janine says what happened caused us to feel confused, afraid, disoriented, but I'm not so sure about that. I love Peter, truly. He's my closest friend and the thought of him dying absolutely terrified me, but I don't think that caused to just make up what I saw.

That zombie was watching us, and then it just jumped into the sea for no reason. Zombies don't do that.

I grit my teeth, hastily shucking away my dirty clothes before smoothing out the wrinkles of the clean ones I'm wearing. Even the supply run I just finished didn't help or ease my mind.

I can tell Peter's thinking about it a lot too, although he hasn't said much about it. I really haven't let him. These last few days I haven't been talking to him because one thing that didn't escape me after our mission was the fact that Peter literally jumped off a walkway to lure a V-Type away when he wasn't sure if he was really infected or not!

I've been giving him hell for it the past few days, but he's dealt with it because he knows I'm right. Other than a few angry comments, I haven't talked to him as much, although I've decided I no longer am going to hound him for his actions. I'm sure Janine will be holding this over his head for a while and he doesn't need me to keep bringing it up too, no matter how hurt and afraid I was at the thought of losing another friend.

Plus he did believe he was infected and he didn't want to hurt me and Jody. As angry as I was, I know why he did what he did.

After tying up my damp hair so it doesn't soak the back of my shirt, I head out of the shower area and back to the coms shack. Sam is preparing for another run, since Janine has been packing his schedule with scouting runs to make sure the V-Type horde isn't moving too closely to any settlement. Since we have so few burn cubes, we must make sure our plan will go smoothly and efficiently. One wrong move could mean the end of humanity.

We're almost positive that no more Last Riders remain. Those that followed us to Sigrid's island died by plant gas and V-Types and volcanic fissures. If there were any left that didn't follow us to the island, then there will be far too few for us to worry about. At least, not now. We have bigger things to worry about than a few strays that want revenge.

When I make it back to the coms shack, Sam is there waiting, sitting in his swivel chair and leaning forward to watch the other runners out in the field.

His eyes flicker to me for just a moment, a smile spreading on his face. "Hello, darling."

"Hey," I reply softly. I walk over to him and lean against the back of his chair, smiling as I admire the faux leather pressing against my skin. Sam notices immediately.

"What's that look for?"

"Oh, I'm just grateful that when I pull away there's no duct tape that's going to pull the hair off my arms." I glance down at the spots on my forearms where the hair is slightly different in texture. Those spots are from where the tape from the old chair ripped the hair off and it grew back slightly different. It's nothing too noticeable, but it was painful.

He chuckles. "Yeah.  I really was glad when you found this."

"I'm surprised the one you had lasted as long as it did," Nicole says, and looking through the monitor I can see her running with Paula.

"It's just like anything else in Abel-long lasting," The redhead adds, and I'm sure Nicole rolls her eyes as I push away and head for the bed. I lay down, barely registering the feeling of the soft covers against my skin, just like I can barely register whatever turn the conversation between Sam, Nicole and Paula takes.

Even now, when the air is filled with chatter and the room full of light and comfort, my mind can't stop wondering back to whatever happened with that zombie. My shuddering breath that's released as the memory resurfaces is enough to make Sam raise a brow at me over his shoulder. He lifts his hands up.

'Are you okay?' He asks silently, and I push myself up into a sitting position to sign a reply.

'I'm okay. Just thinking.'

He nods, but before he can think to sign or say anything else, Nicole speaks up.

"I can see a few zombies to the east, Sam. Don't seem to be moving like V-Types. Probably regular zoms."

"Yeah, I can see them on my cams. Looks like normal zombies," He says as he looks back at the monitors. "Still, you should pick up the pace. If they get too close and start making a lot of noise, it could attract V-Types."

"Has any other scouting groups seen where the V-Type horde is heading?" Paula asks, and he huffs.

"Well, I mean, we know they're moving. They don't seem to have a particular place in mind, but we can't get too close to them or else we'd risk either losing a runner or leading a couple hundred V-Types straight to Abel. From what I've picked up on my cams, they move in really weird patterns. I've shared the feed with Ronnie so she can analyze it. Although I think she's more interested in that finger from the uh... healing immortal zombie that bit Peter a few days ago."

"Have you heard anything about that yet?" Nicole asks, and I cock my head to the side, curious about his answer, although the soft sigh tells me it won't be very rewarding.

"No, not really. Even though Veronica's servers are working better because of all that updated equipment we got her, she likes to keep to herself. She was the same when she was human, so I'm honestly not too surprised."

"Do you think she might have mentioned anything to Nadia?" I ask, getting him to glance over at me once more.

"Maybe. I'll send Nadia a Roufflenet message and ask later."

We go quiet for a moment, not really having anything to say and content in the quiet. At least, content for a moment. Just like before, though, thoughts of what happened last week resurface. It's like an itch in my mind, and no matter how much I ignore it I keep coming back to it.

I suppose it makes sense, since last week was something newly uncovered. I'm sure Peter's been thinking about this for a bit too. He knows I'm angry at him for running off when he got bitten, but the fact that he knows that he can make V-Types with cell regeneration... it must be getting to him.

I'll probably see him and Tom later tonight, try to think of some small talk that my help him keep his mind off of it, even if I can't keep my mind off of it.

There was a quote I heard a lot of when I was a kid. "Do as I say, not as I do." I always found it a stupid quote then, and for the most part I still find it stupid even now, but I understand it a tiny bit more in some of these cases when it comes to putting others' mental health above my own.

With a sigh of determination to get these thoughts out of my mind for the moment, I reach down to the floor and grab a book from under the bed. I'd stashed it here a few nights ago before falling asleep when I was too tired to actually go put it away in the coms desk drawer. I haven't had much time to actually get back to reading it.

It's interesting enough. It's a series of short stories all around this make-believe utopian city called Autodale. It's in an apocalyptic setting, and is, as far as I've read, the only town that is still standing. Sam says he doesn't understand why I'm reading it, since we're literally living in an apocalypse, but I read it because it's not like the way we live.

The people in these short stories are like cogs in a machine, idealizing the auto-men that are in the city. They push away individuality, never asking questions, just trying to be model citizens and then allowing themselves to be brutally murdered when they are labeled 'ugly', which is really just being no longer useful. They are labeled ugly when they become too old, or if they're disabled or infertile or... well, different. And the 'ugly' people don't even fight it. They're totally loyal to the system even when they're killed because of it.

It's interesting because it's from the point of view of characters who fully believes what's going on is normal. I think that's what Sigrid was going to try to convince the people on her island, that living this way was normal. The only difference from her island dream and this story is that in this story there are no rebels, no punishment. People strive to be model citizens, to be good, to be pretty and well working cogs in the machine, no longer individual.

It's terrifying to know that it could have become a reality if we hadn't stopped Sigrid in time. But in a way, I'm thankful for this story because it reminds me that things aren't as terrible as they could be.

I'd hate to live like this. Well, I hate it because I know it's wrong, but if I were in this story, I'd be happy and content knowing I was to grow up, get married, have a child, brainwash my child that living this model life was all there was to life, then grown old and happily have my head bashed in because the work is done.

I've already lived through years thinking I was just a runner, that I was replaceable, but to believe that and be content with it... It's sometimes too hard to grasp.

"Reading again?" Sam asks, causing me to look up. He must've turned his mic off for now. I nod, standing and walking over to him with my book in hand.

"This newest short story is about an automated character called Friendly Shadow," I reply, sitting down in his lap. "He's not like the Auto-men. He seems to possess critical thinking skills and morals and he has an actual face, which is kind of strange since even the humans in the town wear masks."

"Hmm. Is he like an AI?"

"I don't know. He seems to have a voice in his ear. Calls her Hive. She doesn't sound like an Auto-man either, but she definitely doesn't speak the way the humans do in this series."

"From what you've told me, they all are weird."

"They're brainwashed," I reply, and my lips pull into a frown. "And what's sad is there was actually a chance something like this could have become reality for some people if Sigrid would have won."

Sam's eyebrows furrow together. "Have you been thinking about her island again?"

I scoff. "You can't tell me you haven't."

"Not as much as you have." He kisses my cheek. "You need to stop worrying so much. We will have a plan."

"I know. It's just... hard sometimes."

"Yeah, but we'll make it through. We always do." He glances down at the book in my hand. "Can't say the same for some of the people in that book though."

"I think the short stories will tie together in some way. I mean, they have references to some of the previous short stories, and they're all set in the same universe and town. They just don't have an exact main character or setting. I think-I think the author was trying to get people to think. I mean, the terrifying thing about these people is that they aren't afraid of the auto-men or the weird AI system... thing that's been hinted at, or the Mayor who has been newly mentioned in this short story. They aren't afraid of messing up and getting killed. They don't secretly wish they could run away or rise up. What's scary is the fact that they are perfectly happy living this life and they have no concern or desire to question the system and how their lives are."

"If it's so scary, then why do you choose to read it?" Sam asks, and I shrug.

"Because it's fiction, and while something similar did almost become reality, this fictional world with its fictional creatures is just that-fiction." I pause for a moment, resting my head on his shoulder. "Sometimes it's best to just leave this world to go to another, even if that world is just as terrible as this. Because at least in that fictional world, I can hope or pretend that things get better. And if I'm not presented that in the canon, then I can just pretend in my head that things happen differently, and no one can say anything about it."

He chuckles. "I mean, people do that in real life too. Remember the fanfiction?"

The scowl I send him only makes him burst into giggles. "Why did you have to bring that up? We were having a relatively decent conversation without that resurfacing to my brain."

"Sorry," He replies, but with how his brown eyes shine I can tell he's not very sorry at all.

"Yeah, well, you're going to have to work for your forgiveness," I reply, and he gives me a sly smile.

"Oh, really?"

"Really," I say as he tilts his head down, lips just ghosting mine.

"Hmm. I wonder just what I'll have to do to earn it then."

"I think you can already guess." My words come out as just as a whisper as my lips brush against his, grinning into his mouth. Unfortunately, we only get a second of connection before I can hear Nicole annoyingly yell,

"Sam, we're at the gate already! Are you going to let us in or what?"

He frantically pulls away from me and turns on his mic. "Sorry! Sorry! I uh, got distracted."

"Oh, I can only wonder what distracted you," Paula teases.

"Gross," Nicole mutters while Sam orders for the gates to be raised. He sends me an annoyed look when I giggle.

"Okay, I think that earned you your forgiveness," I tease as the alarms of the gates blare. Sam simply rolls his eyes at me.

"I'm glad you find my embarrassment funny."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes at his dramatics before kissing him softly. "Dramatic dork."

"Smart Alec."

"Your smart Alec."

He grins proudly. "Always."

•

It's damn near freezing out here. The sun has long since set, and bits of snow and rain fall to the earth as I walk along the have paved roads looking for Peter and Tom. They weren't at their normal meeting space, but I don't find that particularly surprising. Every once in a while they head out somewhere else to change things up, not always telling me since I don't always join them out here.

I can't exactly be upset at them for that. They don't tell me because they know I'd feel obligated to come even if I was feeling good enough to get a good night's sleep. Being the gracious friends they are they'd rather take the risk of me wandering around the township to find them than showing up when I clearly want to be in bed.

I do find them, eventually. They're in the park, with Peter smoking a stale cigarette and most likely complaining about it, his grumpy attitude seeming to be enough to bring a smile to Tom's lips. They don't notice me at first, but Tom with his oh-so-amazing hearing seems to notice a presence the second my feet hit the wet and cold grass.

His head snaps to me, and the sudden motion scares Peter so badly he nearly drops his cigarette. Once he realizes who it is, he relaxes.

"Oh, hello, Five. Didn't think you'd be joining us tonight."

I smile half-heartedly as I head over to them, pulling up the hood of my coat as several rain droplets and snowflakes fall on my head. "Couldn't sleep. Why'd you choose the park? You know you'll get in trouble if anyone finds ashes on the grass."

"Does anyone actually come around here during the wintertime?" Tom questions, and I nod.

"Fair enough." I look out, taking a moment to survey the barren trees that are slowly becoming covered in snow, covering the dark branches and the dead grass. Give it a few hours and it will be nothing but white-pretty, but cold. So cold. And it will leave me running back to Sam to snuggle up with him while he complains how cold my skin is.

"Are you guys excited for Christmas?" I ask after a few minutes of silence.

"It'll be nice to have a bit more of a festive spirit," Tom says with a small smile. "Might bring up morale."

"Maybe. Anything you guys want in particular?"

He looks at me with just a hint of a smile on his face. "Planning on getting us gifts?"

"I get all my friends gifts for Christmas. I mean, for my birthday you guys gave me gifts."

"You sure you want to call what you got actual gifts?" Peter asks, and I frown.

"The charm bookmark you got me was nice, and I've actually been putting it to use. And it's an apocalypse. You don't expect grand gifts when the world's fallen apart."

"Well, after what you went through on your actual birthday, you might deserve a better gift."

I rub my arm nervously. "Well, I mean, it's kind of on par to all my other birthdays here in Abel. I mean, for my sixteenth birthday I was in New Canton because the township got blown up; my seventeenth birthday I was on the Laetitia Greenwald and I nearly drowned; my eighteenth birthday Steve and I nearly died in a cave filled with zombies and I had Moonchild talking to me in my head; and my ninetieth birthday we barely celebrated since we were focused on stopping Sigrid. And even before I came to Abel my birthdays kind of sucked when the apocalypse began. On my thirteenth birthday I was quite literally tortured, so..."

I don't know if my rambling makes him feel any better, but he doesn't seem to realize I'm lying when I say it was on par with the other birthdays. The other birthdays bad things happened to me. It's different when it's someone else. It's so much worse when it's someone else.

"But my birthday isn't the topic right now. It's Christmas. Now what do you guys want?" I ask, raising a brow expectantly. Neither of the two say anything, which makes me huff. "Fine. Don't tell me. But don't get upset when I get you a crappy gift."

"Hey." Peter frowns. "I can't just answer right away. You put me on the spot."

Tom snickers, but nods. "This is kind of a random question for tonight."

"I ask you guys this every year!" I exclaim, and they both roll their eyes.

"It's not even December yet, Callista."

"It will be December in like..." I pause, trying to figure out what time it could possibly be, "maybe an hour? And I want to get gifts for a lot of people, so I want to get an early start."

Tom crosses his arms, intrigued. "And what's gotten you in such a giving mood?"

"Like you said, the holidays may boost morale. Heaven knows we need something to give the township a pick-me-up."

"Well, we can't actually blame them for being down in the dumps, now can we?" Peter asks. "S'not like things have been going smoothly for us."

"No, but it's no fun being miserable, especially around Christmas. If I can get a few gifts and make a few people happy, it's better than nothing."

"And what exactly do you want for Christmas?" He asks, and I blink in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

A scoff leaves his lips. "Oh, come on. You can't just ask what we want and then not expect us to ask you the same thing."

"You haven't even told me what you want."

"You can get me a new shirt," Tom replies casually, and I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to explain because that's a very... vague answer. "Much of the clothing here is old or patched together or stained. You know how to sew, don't you?"

"Well, yes. I'd have to really practice though if I wanted to make an article of clothing and not just alter it."

"Well, you have a month."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. It's a least something." I turn back to Peter. "And I don't really want anything for Christmas. Well, nothing that you can get me anyway."

Peter's brows furrow together at that, almost looking offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I open my mouth to reply, but close it when my vision blurs, my body seeming to become like Jell-O as exhaustion suddenly hits me like a truck. I stumble a bit, but manage to pull enough strength from my suddenly fatigued muscles to keep from falling in the snow. I blink multiple times to get rid of the black dots that dance in front of me, but it's a bit hard to tell if my vision's normal again when it's already so dark out and the only lights are from the lamps near the building entrances-buildings that aren't all that close to the park itself.

"Uh, you okay?" Peter asks, and I quickly nod.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Suddenly lost my balance there," I lie, but I don't give him or Tom the time to question, because I know they will since they both know about my visions, at least vaguely. Weird. I don't feel like I'm close to having a vision. I'm not getting the headaches or the nose bleeds. Maybe I'm just tired.

Or I'm about to do or say something stupid and my body's telling me to go to bed before I do so...

"And I mean what I want for Christmas is something I can't exactly get from you, or anyone." I shake my head. "It's stupid. Just forget it."

Peter looks over at Tom, as if to ask if he knows what the hell I'm talking about, but Tom just shrugs., thankfully. By the sideward glance he gives me, he knows exactly what I'm talking about. Although he doesn't know that I've been talking to Veronica about my immortality, he knows I want to be rid of it more than anything. Even with Veronica, it's something I won't be able to get for a while. She's sent in more reports, but still advised us not to come forward with the findings just yet, since she's unsure if it will be enough to help Maxine or Paula or any of the scientists here in Abel to create a cure for me and Peter.

Still, Sam's printed out some of the reports she's given, making sure to hide it just in case Nicole gets any ideas about breaking into the coms shack again. I was smart and locked the door this time, having the key in my jacket pocket.

Peter doesn't look impressed. "There are things I want that I know you can't get me, but I'm still going to try and think of something so you don't pester me about it."

"I pester you either way."

"Yes, well it seems I'm going to be pestering you back so you can think up something." He pauses, face scrunches up in thought. "It's always weird when you're cryptic like this. Don't you know I'm supposed to be the sad brooding one in our friendship?"

Tom snorts, which nearly makes me burst out in laughter as well.

"Sorry to disappoint you?" I laugh. "But I mean it. The things I want aren't in my plane of reality just yet."

"Just yet?" He repeats, and I nod. For a split second I see a flash of bitterness in his eyes as he looks down at his unscarred hands. "Well, you're already ahead of me in your wishes. I'd give anything to be completely human again, but we all know there are no chances of that ever happening."

I glance over to Tom, not surprised to see that his eyes are already boring into mine. I bite the inside of my cheek, weighing my options. It's not time yet. I've seen how it's supposed to go, how I'm supposed to tell him, but I can't just stand here while Peter's looking like this. There's so much hurt and anger and self-hatred.

I can't tell him about the search for a cure for us, but maybe...

Maybe I can meet this fate a little early. It probably won't be that much different... right?

My mind is already screaming that this is a bad idea, and memories of the last time I tried to change a vision flashes up within my mind. I know this isn't going to end well. I know I'm being stupid, but I can't just not do anything. If I say something, or try to, then I can at least say I tried.

"Hey." I place my hand on his shoulder. "I... I know how you feel."

He scoffs, face twisting in barely hidden fury that I would dare to say such a thing. "I know for a fact that you don't."

"No, really, I..." I sigh, unwilling to look him in the eye. From the corner of my eye I see his expression change. I see a flash of something. Confusion? Fear? He glances over at Tom, who looks surprisingly neutral, brow quirked in slight interest.

"What do you mean?"

I blink, fatigue eating away at my again. I have to force the words from my mouth.

"Well, there's something I need to tell you. You-you know how I said I knew there was something I was hiding that I would need to..." I trail off, shifting slightly, feeling that wave of exhaustion hit me once more. "Sorry. I just lost my train of thought. What was I saying?"

"That there was something you needed to say," Peter says. He looks conflicted, as if he wants me to say it but also doesn't. I'm sure his mind is already jumping to the worst possible conclusion, which unfortunately in this case is the truth.

"Right. Right. I-I just need to tell you that I understand because-"

My legs give out from underneath me, and I find myself too tired to even try to fight it. Surprisingly though, I'm not too tired to find myself cursing at myself for being so stupid.

I tried to change fate and now I'm suffering the consequences.

I don't know why I thought it would be different now.

Because I didn't think it would be different. I knew deep down this would happen, but there was a stupid part of me that hoped things would be okay.

"Woah, woah, Callista!" Peter grabs my arms and hauls me to my feet, but I still sway unsteadily. The laugh I give is forced and strained.

"God, am I stupid. I should have known better. It's not time yet." I close my eyes and let out a curse.

"What's not time yet?" Tom asks, and I lean against a nearby tree, looking up as a few snowflakes sway past my hood and hit my face.

I'm so tired.

"I've told you this before. There's a time and lace for everything." I turn my head to Peter. "I wanted to make you feel better, but trying to say it now seems to be making things worse."

"Say... say what now?" He looks horrified, and I can't tell if it's from the fact that I can barely stay conscious or that he knows what I'm implying.

Too bad I never get to answer him, because the next thing I know the world is black and cold.

That is, it's black and cold until I open my eyes again...

Then my world is electric lights and the odd feeling of moving even though I'm sitting down.

I'm not in Abel anymore.

I'm sitting down on a train, not just any train. The ObanExpress.

"Oh, this is so exciting!" Halima says, turning to me with wide eyes. "What are you most excited to try out first, Cat?"

I remember the last time I was dreaming of this. We had just boarded this train. I heard someone coughing as we started moving.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Oh shit.

A/N: Happy Birthday to me! I'm now in my second decade of life! Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed, and just so you know the short stories Five was talking about is based off of animations that you can find on YouTube. The creator on YouTube is called Dead Sound. You should check it out.

Thank you and have a blessed day!