My hand glided across the smooth paper of my thick black journal. I wasn't sure how it was still in one piece after being in my small backpack on the road for almost two months. It endured nonetheless, the only visible mark that could distinguish it being so old was the paper itself turning slightly brown - yellow.

I translated thoughts in my head on the paper, dismissing pain recurring in my wrist. I have been writing for a while, turning and filling page after page. For the first time since the outbreak I had something else to say other than that we crossed the borders again, or that we successfully hid from the Infected or that Miracles was welcoming or even that the Ground Zero is not what it seems.

Insead I wrote:

Is it crazy to say that in the middle of the pandemic you could find something worth living for? Something that keeps you going in the midst of the world ending? In the midst of giving up on hope of life getting better?

Seventy, thirty, fifteen days ago, I would say it was completely delusional. It was denial luring you into its deep, dark, endless cave and once fully in, trap you and never let you go.

It was a glimmer of hope that terrified me. Hope is what makes you vulnerable, easily breakable in the world that is today. So, I never put my guard down. And it worked. Until fourteen days ago.

And there is only one person that I blame for letting hope envelop me, break down the walls I worked restlessly to build; make me feel other things than fear and loneliness.

One person with gray eyes, golden blonde hair, a smile that makes you feel nothing is lost yet.

Jake Smith.

I wished I didn't let him. Wished I never asked him to help me train. Wished I didn't spend most of my day at Ground Zero with him. Wished I didn't bring myself to care about him in this place, at this time.

But once I did it was inevitable. I sailed my faith. I can't say that I hate it. Part of me needed to feel it. Something else other than longing. If it's for the worse or for the better, only time will tell. The only thing I can do is wait and hope it's the latter.

Jake groaned, closing the History Of The United States textbook. Muttering, he tossed it onto the coffee table and slouched in the chair further. His eyes were closed as he said, "I've never been this bored."

I looked up from the book, rolling my eyes. "So you've said. Four times now."

"And I'll keep saying it until you do something about it."

I brought my hands up in surrender, shrugging, "There is nothing to do...plus we have the test in two days."

"Who cares about the test?" He stood up, dismissing my point. He took the book out of my hands and closed it, stacking it on top of his. "What are we studying anyways? American Revolution that started in 1778?"

"It started in 1775, actually. " I gave him a smile as he shot me a glare.

"Whatever," He took my hand, bringing me to my feet. "Nothing of that matters. When you look at it, we are going to be the real history."

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to hide the smile on my face. I liked Jake because of this. His carelessness. His lack of worry. He lived. Even with the pandemic, he lived however he wanted to.

"Fine, then let's go." I walked to the exit of the library. He followed right behind me asking, where?

"Where do you think?" I thought of the only place I loved in this building. The place where I instantly knew that Jake was going to be important to me. The place that made me feel free. That made me feel alive. "The rooftop."

"You still have the keycard, right?" I asked. We walked down the staircase, onto the first floor. It was around lunch time so the majority of the hallways were empty, everyone being in the cafeteria.

"Always."

I still wondered how he got the card. He did tell me he stole it, but I wanted to know more. From who? When? How did he not get caught? Even after spending hours with him, I felt like I still didn't know him. Maybe I was in no position to say anything because he didn't know much about me either. But neither of us really bothered to ask about each other anyways.

As we rounded the corner, I almost bumped into Chase. I took a good look at him. It appeared he just came back from the run.

He wore the black jacket over his tight black shirt alongside the black pants. I could see droplets of red smeared on the side of his neck. I wonder if it was the Infected or someone else's. It definitely wasn't his. His black hair was messy, some strands falling into his eyes. Sweat rolled from his temple, as he stopped to look at us.

"I was just looking for you." He spoke, his brown eyes focused on mine. His voice sent a shiver down my spine. It was deep, and clear, rising the hairs on my arms. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About?"

He looked at Jake and his expression said everything. I instantly knew that he was aware Jake knew about me joining the trainers.

I instinctively spoke, nervously, "I didn't mean to tell him. He just - just found out."

"I don't care, that's not my problem," he said, shrugging. "You can tell that to Commander when he finds out. Wonder how he's going to take it."

I hated Chase sometimes. His indifference. Nothing mattered to him. There was no emotion in him. Ever. It was always like I was talking to a wall. It seemed like he never got angry, sad, afraid.

"What did you want to tell me?" I asked, ignoring the frustration in the pit of my stomach.

"I think you're ready," He stated, not bothering to look at Jake. I'm sure he knew him, since everybody did. I don't think they ever talked though. Jake and Chase couldn't be more opposite. "For the first run."

My heart skipped a beat, and subconsciously I found myself resting my hand against Jake's. It was a mere touch, but it still brought me some comfort. I knew this day would come. I just didn't really want it to.

"Are you sure she's ready?" Jake spoke for the first time, looking at him closely. His voice was off, on edge, different than it was seconds ago.

I found Chase's eyes resting on my and Jake's hand. Instantly, he looked up nodding.

"She trained with me this past week," He explained, and I recalled my nights with him. Us in the training facility, alone. Him telling me how to keep my body straight, to not ever let my guard down. All the training was always after the curfew. It was the only time he was free.

"She got good at shooting which I'm sure you had something to do with it. Was already a good runner and knows how to work with a knife. She is ready."

Jake didn't respond, and I knew he was thinking about it. I couldn't help asking the question that seemed to be burning on my tongue. Thousands of thoughts were swimming in my mind. I feared the answer he was going to tell me.

My voice was quiet, the thumping of my heart overwhelming me, "When are we going?"

"Early tomorrow morning."

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There it is guys! Finally updated after so long. Sorry for delay, I had midterms this month and I was busy with a bunch of things.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please comment, vote and share, it helps a lot. Also, feel free to share your thoughts. I would love to hear them.

Thank you for reading, next chapter should be uploaded soon.