"Tell us, Dr. Neville, why did this tragedy occur to our dear sectors?" the news reader on the radio said.

"It has to be the hand of our enemies," the guy pretending to be Neville said. "A rain like this doesn't just occur in nature on its own."

"But how could something like this be created by mere humans?"

"I don't think it really matters how it was created. We have seen in the past decade of strafing what the enemies are capable of. The Republic of Vardin–the cornerstone of culture that it flaunts itself to be--is nothing but a brewery of machinations. Their military ally, Moudrin, is no less of a threat. The same Moudrin whose expatriates and emigrants we took in eighty years ago when it de-colonized. And they keep inventing these means of destruction. First the dandelion fever and now this–"

Marie slammed a fist on the radio and turned it off. "What a load of crap." She sneered under her gas mask. "None of them created the rain and that's not Neville speaking."

The mention of real Dr.Neville not being around made Clint swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "N-No, it isn't."

Next Marie slammed down on the steering wheel. "Stupid piece of crap! This damn clunker has run out of gas at the right moment!"

Clint put a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, honey." He pointed at the backseat where Zack had fallen asleep. "Let's just get out and find a place to squat for a while," he whispered.

Marie frowned before nodding. Clint gently lifted the boy into his arms and Marie took Zack's backpack along with her own. It was nearing dawn. Orange sunlight was peeking over purple clouds. Dead, shriveled trees stood bald and withering.

The slight scraping their boots made against the road sounded like chalk grating against a blackboard in an empty classroom. The hiss of their respirators was shrill like the wind inside a hollow bamboo.

They'd driven for eight hours straight in which Clint had managed to doze off here and there but Marie was vigilant throughout the journey. Her eyes were wide awake, yet her face under the visor of her mask was a bit long from the fatigue.

Clint shuffled a bit closer to her as they kept walking. "Are you okay?" He frowned in concern.

Marie knit her eyebrows and rolled in her lips. She kept looking ahead.

"You didn't sleep all night. And also, there wasn't any music on the radio," He said with a slight smile. "I'm seriously worried that you didn't even complain once that there wasn't any music. You used to get so cranky back during our road trips." He blushed a little. "You used to look so adorable when you did."

Marie looked at him only to find him shyly smiling away. She couldn't help but smile herself, despite everything that had transpired in the past twenty four hours. She shuffled closer to him too and linked her arm into his. "I'm more glad that we made it alive before the rains."

Clint nodded. "I hope Cathy and...Neville's wife did too." He looked up at the sky. "Do you think we'll meet her again? Cathy must've gotten on that plane with the lady."

"Does it really matter that they did?" Marie said. "I'm just glad to think that they managed to survive it all."

Zack stirred a bit in Clint's arms. Clint patted the boy on his back as if soothing him back to sleep. "You're right. There's no point in dwelling on that plane thing again," he said. "It wasn't meant for us anyway."

Marie gave a strained nod. She absently rubbed Clint's arm as they walked down the empty street.

Clint licked his lips, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked ahead. "I-Is now the right time to talk about...what you asked earlier?" he said. "About Nick?"

Marie frowned. "I don't know, Clint."

Clint groaned, but rather quietly, so as not to wake up Zack. "I didn't do it. But," he bit his lip. "I..."

Marie dared herself to look at her husband, her eyes wide with concern. "Why did you trail off? What is it?" She was gripping his sleeve.

"I...I was relieved when it happened." Clint shut his eyes tightly, as if not ready to face whatever Marie's reaction was.

"You were...relieved for Nick's death?"

Clint groaned again. "I-I didn't like having him around Zack," he said. "Or you."

"Clint, he helped--"

"I know!"

Zack whimpered a bit in his sleep.

Clint grimaced. "I know," he whispered. "I know he helped you when I was away and you both needed help but I...I didn't like the influence he had on you both."

"He didn't influence anything, Clint." Marie's grip on his sleeve loosened. "He was just a friend. Both to me and to Zack."

"I never said my feelings were one hundred percent valid. It's just what I felt. And then I felt guilty for feeling that way. And I feel even worse for what I did to Neville. I..." He shook his head, his body slouching a bit as he held Zack in his arms. "I'm a monster."

Marie's arm slipped out of his and he kept walking, muttering to himself. She watched as he got ahead of her, feeling a tightness in her chest to see him like this. Marie reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her head against his back. "You're not a monster," she said softly. "You did what you felt was right in the moment."

Clint set his jaw and felt his breath shiver in his nostrils. "Marie, we're talking about a person's life. Whether it is Nick or Neville, how did I get so heartless? I always valued human life above everything else. How could I–"

"Don't beat yourself over it," Marie said. "Those things are beyond your control. Nick's death was an accident. Neville's death was inevitable. You think you could've done anything in either case?"

"But murder is still a crime."

"Not anymore. Not in this part of the world." She tightened her embrace before letting him go. She stepped around and in front of him. She looked him in the eyes. "There, I justified your so-called crime for you. I guess that makes me a monster as well. Do you feel less bad now?"

"Absolutely not!" Clint grimaced. "The last thing I want is to drag your or Zack down with me to my level."

"Then what?" Marie narrowed her eyes. "You'll abandon us? In the middle of this hell? For what? Just cuz you feel guilty and Zack deserves a father who didn't kill someone?"

Clint looked down shamefully, scuffing his boot against the asphalt. He had no answer for her.

"Clint, you are still alive. And still here with me and Zack. Doesn't that amount to something in this dump we live in?" Marie clenched her fists. "We have been through a hell and a half. And we are still together. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Don't you trust yourself anymore? Don't you trust us?"

That's when Clint felt the weight of his son who was soundly asleep in his arms. He finally looked up and met Marie's gaze. She was right. This was indeed a dump,it had been a dump for a decade now. There was no crime here anymore because there was no law anymore. There was no moral high ground to look down at the world from. All that remained was them. Wasn't that what had mattered to him all along?

He took Marie's hand and pulled her closer. Involuntarily, she sank into his embrace. Engulfed in the warmth of his family, Clint felt what he hadn't felt in a long time--peace.

###

The house on the Red Birch street was a two-storey cinderblock structure with a little patio in the back. The decontamination unit at the front door was still intact. The suction strips on the windows and the doors were still in working condition. Also, there weren't any infected inside.

Marie took Zack on her lap as he slept while Clint moved the coffee table aside and set out the sleeping bag for the boy. His brows were furrowed in focus, his forehead creased a bit as he smoothed out the vinyl blanket attached to the sleeping bag.

Marie chuckled as she watched him work. Clint looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"You look so serious," she said, still chuckling. "Like you are about to dissect the thing with a scalpel."

That made him smile, his face turned red. "Yeah, well I was just making sure--"

"And there you go with the explanation." Marie shook her head, smiling wryly. "You never really changed all that much Clint. You were like this even back at the university."

Clint's smile turned into a grin. "Nah, I was way more dorkier back then."

"Still just as handsome though."

Clint scoffed. "You were the only one who thought that." Then he smiled again. "You were the only one who mattered anyway."

Marie blushed, her face turning a deeper shade of pink and she looked down, still smiling.

Clint patted the sleeping bag a bit. "Well, his majesty's royal bed is all set. Let's tuck him in."

Marie nodded and put Zack in the sleeping bag. After tucking the boy to sleep, the couple sat back on the couch.

Marie took Clint's hand and laid her head on his shoulder. Clint stroked the back of her hand with his thumb as their fingers remained entwined. They stared at the dark television screen in front of them that would never light up again. "What do you think we would've watched if it still worked right now?" Clint said absently.

"I don't think Zack would've let us watch anything except cartoons."

Clint frowned. "But he doesn't know what cartoons are like," he said. "He was just two when the war began, and all that the televisions showed then was the live footage of the field or government news bulletins. Animations stopped. So did the soaps. So did those pathetic talk shows where film stars used to come and pretended to be humble."

Marie scoffed. "Those were awful." Then her face sobered up. "I can't believe I still miss it so much." She turned her head away. Her eyes happened on the square shadows on the wall. Shadows that photo frames leave behind when you take them off after a long time. She rose from the couch and walked over to the wall. Her eyes never left the shadows. She frowned. "They left," she said.

Clint raised an eye brow. "What?"

"Whoever was here left the place," she said.

Clint shrugged. "So?"

Marie sighed. "Clint, the back door and the front door are both intact. So are the windows. Even the decontamination unit works just fine. It's a good place to stay. Why did they leave?"

"Maybe they didn't leave?" Clint said. "Maybe they just...got the virus or something."

"No, they packed up and left the place," Marie said, pointing at the shadows on the wall. "Look at these, there used to be photo frames on this wall. That's what forms these shadows. Looters or scavengers don't steal photo frames. That means the family took it before they left."

Clint leaned ahead, frowning as well. "Marie," he said as a drop of sweat trickled down his forehead and into his brow, "we didn't check the first floor."

Thud!

Both of them perked up at the sound. Marie's eyes were wide. Clint's jaw was clenched. Zack stirred in his sleeping bag.

Thud!

Marie moved closer to Zack. "Clint, we should leave," she said.

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"This is a good place, Marie. You said it yourself."

"Well, we are not alone in here."

Thud!

"We can deal with whoever is in here."

"It's dangerous!"

Clint let out a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. He looked at Zack who was still asleep.

"Wake him up," Clint said.

Marie did what she was told.

"Argh, what happened? I don't wanna go to school." Zack mumbled, rubbing his eyes. When the haze was lifted off his vision, he saw that his mom and dad were both wearing gas masks. And dad was checking the gun. Mom walked into the living room with a meat cleaver in her hand.

"Found this in the kitchen," she said.

Clint's eyes went wide under his mask. "Woah, there! You don't need it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you don't need it cuz you aren't coming up with me to check who is making the noise."

Marie threw him a glare. "No, I'm coming with you and you can't tell me otherwise."

"Marie this is not the time to argue," Clint said. "You should wait outside with Zack and if I don't come back in ten minutes, you leave."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, as if you think I'm gonna do it just like that." She crossed her arms. "I'm done with you throwing yourself in the harm's way like this. If you're gonna investigate that noise, I'm coming with you. If I walk out of this house, then you are coming with me. No more heroics, Clint."

Zack nodded and stood next to his mom. "I agree, dad. We shouldn't separate. Not again," He said the last part rather quietly.

"Marie, this will only be for ten minutes."

"Did I stutter, Mr. Harris?" Marie glared at him. "I said 'no heroics!' Whatever we do, we'll do it together. Or we don't do it at all!"

Clint groaned. "You guys are impossible!" He ran his hand through his hair.

"Please dad," Zack said, taking Clint's hand in his.

Clint frowned at his son then at his wife. He was almost ready to argue again. Almost.

###

"I'm proud of you, Dad!" Zack said as he bounced merrily from one foot to another as they walked down the empty street again.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Thanks, son. But I guess, I should really be thanking your mom." He pouted at Marie.

Marie scoffed. "Don't give me that look, dear. You and I both know this was only gonna end one way."

Clint crossed his arms. "I thought we were a team."

"And that's exactly why we are out here walking together and not in that dangerous house, watching you do something stupid," Marie said.

"Stupid?!" Clint looked up at her. The sunlight reflected sharply against her visor, making him flinch away. "You think walking out in this boiling heat is somehow smarter than being under shelter?"

"I'll take the boiling heat over the death-trap house, any day."

"Sure, death-trap. Cuz I found it?" Clint snapped.

Marie didn't say anything.

"Go on say it." Clint poked her arm. "Say that it was all my fault. You like to doubt me for everything these days, don't you?"

Marie ignored him and pointed at the building ahead of them. The fiberglass sign propped up on its roof said Sector 24 City Hall. "That looks safe," she said, taking Zack's hand in hers as she kept walking.

"Why is that place so safe?" Clint hung back, crossing his arms. "Just cuz you said so?"

"It's the City Hall."

"Oh yeah? Suddenly you have a lot of faith in our government?"

"The doors and windows are still intact," Marie said as she pushed open the big front doors and stepped inside.

"So was the case with the house we just left!" Clint called out. "The house you made us leave!"

From where Clint was standing, he could hear the distant hiss of the decontamination unit.

"Marie, I'm not gonna squat in a government office." Clint huffed. "I listened to you when you insisted. How about you do the same in return?"

The building stood silent as Clint glared at the open doorway.

"Marie, if you make me sleep in there...I-I'm not gonna talk to you!"

Still no answer.

Clint frowned. "Marie?" he mumbled, more to himself. "Zack?"

The answer that he got was the screaming of his wife and son.