Daughton reclined on the bus bench with a sigh -- although anyone looking at him wouldn’t have described him as ‘reclined’ in any way. After almost two decades in the military, even at his most relaxed, Daughton’s posture would be rigidly perfect.

But for those who knew what to look for, they would see the exhaustion in Daughton’s bearing. Stopping for long enough to sit somewhere other than his desk, without a handful of reports in front of him? It was practically unheard of for Sergeant Daughton, especially considering he was in the middle of what could be called an active warzone.

But Daughton was exhausted, and savored the tiny break in any way that he could. He was an army man through and through, used to following orders and having his own orders followed. But recently, he had so few new orders to follow, and the last ones he had been given just...weren’t working.

Something needed to change.

So he had taken a break, the first one in what felt like an eternity, simply allowing his mind and body to rest in a way that was different from sleep, yet felt just as needed.

“Excuse me,” a small female voice sounded from just behind him.

Daughton sighed quietly at the interruption. But he braced himself and turned to face the speaker, ready to offer platitudes for missing relatives and assurances of future safety.

Daughton was only mildly surprised to see that the speaker was a young girl, not even yet a teenager. And then he met her eyes.

Orange and glowing.

- Sgt. Daughton, Inclusion +20 days 09:51 hours

Despite the news about the exclusion seeming earth-shaking, at the moment there isn’t actually anything we can do to act on the new information. I have to give Sam at least some credit -- it’s correct in that practically, the exclusion is one of the least important things for us to know about our new world. Yet I’m still bitter at Sam for keeping it from us this long.

Maybe that’s just my human nature and pride: a desire to be kept in the know, regardless of the usefulness.

In any case, the information doesn’t affect our immediate goal: find Melete’s home and search for survivors.

We get back on the road with a few more ideas to mull over while we travel, but after only ten minutes walking quietly, we pause once again.

We stand at the intersection of two roads deep inside one of the suburban neighborhoods, curving roads leading to cul de sacs and the occasional ruined rec center. Melete has been confidently guiding us since we left my house this morning, which is lucky because all of the roads look the same to me.

Melete turns and faces our group after a minute spent simply staring at the intersection. “So, full disclosure, none of this looks familiar.”

I contain a groan.

“...how recently was the last thing you recognized?” Styx asks.

Melete shrugs. “I’m not entirely sure. I thought I recognized the street right after we left Atlas’ house, but now I’m second-guessing myself.”

It’s even harder to stifle my groan this time. Styx rubs her face in frustration, clearly containing her own outburst.

“We can figure this out. What route did you take to get to school?” Pallas asks, his deep, calm voice acting as a balm to our group’s tempers.

“I don’t know many of the street names...but I think campus was north, and maybe a little east, from where I lived.”

“Atlas?” Pallas asks, and I pull out my compass to double-check directions.

“I lived southeast from school, and we’ve been walking more-or-less west since then...so I think we’ve mostly been going the right direction.”

“Not far enough, then?” Styx asks.

“Probably,” I respond before turning to Melete. “Just keep your eyes peeled, and let us know if you recognize anything.”

She nods, and we set out, following my compass as west as possible while staying on roads. I’m not desperate enough to try short-cutting through yards, and luckily the options for roads heading west are common enough to avoid that becoming our only option.

After another hour of somewhat aimless walking, I’m relieved to hear Melete’s whisper. “There! I recognize that!”

“Thank goodness,” I hear Styx mutter under her breath through my bond with her, and I shoot her a small smile.

Luckily, Melete truly does recognize the area, and she leads us unhesitatingly through the neighborhood until we’re standing in front of a small three-story apartment building. “I’m top left,” she says as she leads us up the zig-zagging metal stairway attached to the outside of the building, the stairs thankfully shielded from the constant drizzle.

I feel the tension ratchet as we approach what may be a grisly reminder of my own home, but Melete looks remarkably unconcerned. We get to the top floor and Melete walks past the first to the second and final door on the level.

And knocks.

We wait a few seconds before she knocks again.

“...um, you lived here, right? Can’t we just go in?” Styx asks.

“Well yeah, but I don’t want to freak my mom out if she’s been worried about monsters and raiders and stuff,” Melete replies as she knocks once more.

That’s actually a fair point. The door and windows are in decent condition, much better than most of the houses we’ve passed to get here, and I wonder how much of that has to do with the fact that we’re three stories up. But regardless, if there’s any place we’ve seen that might still be fit for human habitation, it’s here.

Finally, Melete checks the handle to the door, only to find it locked.

“One sec,” she whispers, before climbing on the sill of the nearby window and reaching into the light fixture hanging from the wall, pulling out a small house key. “Bingo.”

She slides the key into the lock and turns the handle, the door opening silently into a dark apartment.

“Mom?” Melete calls quietly as we edge our way inside. “You here?”

The dark room swallows up her words, and doesn’t respond. Cautiously we explore as a group. Through the living room, glancing into two empty bedrooms, before ending in a kitchen. All of them deserted.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” Styx whispers.

Melete just shakes her head and disappears into one of the rooms. Pallas follows her to the doorway, only to turn back and mutter, “Looking through closets.”

I nod and join Styx in the never-ending search for edible supplies. I can understand Melete’s frenzy, having experienced the same on the approach to my own house. I can only hope that we can find some sort of clue as to what happened to her and Pallas’ families. While I would never wish my experience last night on even my worst enemy, not knowing, in the long run, might be worse.

I shake my head. For a moment I almost convinced myself that it was true.

The kitchen is completely empty of anything edible, which gives me some hope for Melete. Surely a locked house without any food left behind is a good sign? After a few minutes, Melete joins us with a defeated look on her face. “Nothing,” she whispers.

We stand still until Styx breaks the silence by reaching into her backpack. “Let’s break here for lunch. Doesn’t seem like any monsters have come here yet, so we should be safe.”

Pallas and I nod at her idea and pull out snacks from our own bags, while Melete sits in a chair around the small dining table, unresponsive.

We eat our meals quietly, yet Melete doesn’t move, staring at the wall silently. Halfway through her breakfast bar, Styx moves the other dining chair next to Melete, and lowers her head until she is right next to Melete’s own hunched form, hair shielding their faces, and whispers into her ear. “Hey, Melete, I just --” I hear from Styx before I dismiss my bond with her, giving them their privacy.

I don’t know how to act with them whispering in the corner, so I just find a spot on the floor to sit and quietly eat, Pallas doing the same. Sam, as always, observes our behavior, occasionally turning its eye out the window to watch for approaching monsters.

And so the minutes pass, unintelligible whispering interrupted only by chewing, the tearing of plastic packaging, and faint whimpers. Today has been a day of silence, of walking through the streets on alert for monsters, of reflection and regrets, and of tears.

A half-hour later, Melete has perked up to a semblance of her normal self, although the song she hums is more depressing than her normal ditties.

Sam has been on watch at the living room window, and gives the all-clear for us to exit. We walk out the door into the stairwell, passing by the closed door of the adjacent apartment.

“Elise?” I hear a muffled voice from the closed door, followed by scratching as the door is unlocked from the inside. “Elly, is that you?!”

I jump back and raise my weapon, Pallas and Styx doing the same. Melete, however, steps forward.

“Ms. Kathy, is that you?” she says in a husky voice.

The door is flung open and before I can react, a woman dashes out and catches Melete in a smothering hug. Melete returns the hug just as intensely.

“Elly! It’s really you! You’re okay!” the unknown woman exclaims in a teary voice. The hug continues for a few more seconds before the woman, Ms. Kathy, seems to realize where she is, frantically looking at her surroundings with wide eyes and noticing the rest of us for the first time. “Let’s get you all inside where it’s safe.”

She stands at the door and gestures for us to enter. Through my bond with Sam, I quickly tell it to stay hidden, and leave a bit of space before entering for it to sneak inside with the rest of us.

Once we’ve entered the shadowed living room, Ms. Kathy closes and bolts the door, peeking through the blinds of the windows for a moment before turning to us with a smile. “Welcome, welcome! I was so nervous when I heard the noises next door, thinking the raiders had come back. What a surprise when I saw you out of the window, Elly! It’s so good to see you!”

I smile to myself when it finally clicks. Elise! That’s Melete’s actual name, finally reminded after all this time by her next-door neighbor. The neighbor in question is an older woman, likely in her fifties or sixties, and looks like the stereotypical kindly grandma: fluffy hair, knit sweater, large round glasses, and a gentle smile framed by laugh lines. Only the deep circles under her eyes are evidence of any recent struggles.

“Why don’t you introduce us, Elly?” I say in a mischievous voice, happy to tease her now that she’s smiling.

Melete shoots a stern glare at me before speaking. “Ms. Kathy, these are some of my classmates from school: Styx, Pallas, and Atlas,” she says as she gestures to each of us. “And please, I’m going by Melete now, for security reasons.”

“Oh, of course sweetie, just like in your little games with the twins! And it’s so nice to meet all of you, you can call me Kathy, or Ms. Kathy, if you prefer. But I should gather the twins before we go any further, they’ve been hiding in the closet since we heard the racket you made coming up the stairs.”

Ms. Kathy walks off through a hallway deeper into the apartment while we wait in the dark living room, closed blinds allowing only minimal light.

“How do you know her? Neighbor?” Styx asks in the following silence.

“Yeah, for as long as I can remember,” Melete replies. “I babysat her grandkids all the time when she had to go out. My mom and her were really good friends.” There’s a fond smile on Melete’s face as she explains. As beneficial as this might be for us to get news of what has been happening in Clayton, I can’t help but think that the greatest boon is the boost to Melete’s spirits.

We wait awkwardly for Ms. Kathy, standing in place in the small room as Melete returns to her natural humming.

Finally, there’s a squeal from the hallway as two young kids impact with Melete, small arms wrapped around her body as a chorus of “Elly! Elly!” repeats in the apartment.

“Hey kiddos!” she says, hugging them back. “I’ve missed you…” Eventually, the kids step back, and Melete continues. “But it’s Melete.”

The two kids nod seriously, taking her statement completely in stride. “I’m Phoebe, then!” the girl exclaims.

“And I’m Pallas!” the boy states.

Pallas starts from where he’s standing, confusedly looking between Melete and the boy.

Melete doesn’t look the slightest bit ashamed as she tells the kid he can’t use that name, gesturing to Pallas as she explains the name is already taken.

“Why does he get to use it though?? I’ve used it before too!”

“Well, that’s just because he couldn’t think of one himself, so I had to give it to him. He’s not as creative as you, so why don’t you come up with a new one?” Melete explains patiently, the boy preening under the compliments.

I’m distracted from their interaction by Ms. Kathy’s voice. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I’m such a bad hostess. Take a seat, take a seat. We don’t have much, but would you like a glass of water?”

“Thank you, but we’re fine,” Styx replies, as she and I sit next to each other on the small couch. Pallas takes the reclining chair, while Ms. Kathy settles into a rocking chair in the corner. Melete sits on the floor with Phoebe and the recently dubbed ‘Hyperion’ on either side.

“Ms. Kathy,” Melete says, an arm around each of the wiggling children, “what happened? Where’s my mom?”

With that single question, Ms. Kathy appears to age ten years. She looks over the four of us, at our lean, dirty faces, at our backpacks and weapons, and sighs.

“It started almost a month ago,” she explains, “when everyone lost their Numbers at the exact same time. I had just come home from a shift at work because the kiddos would be getting home from school soon. At first I worried I was having a heart attack or stroke, but there was no pain that went with the sudden weakness. Luckily, I had the news on, and in only a few minutes realized it wasn’t just me.

“I picked Thomas and… I mean Hyperion and Phoebe from the bus stop, barely able to make it down and back up the stairs, but then just huddled inside watching the news. Learned that it was the whole world that was going through the same thing, and how we could add the Numbers back in, which helped a bit.” She sighs, rubbing her brow with her fingers. “That evening was rough. We didn’t know what was going on, and it didn’t seem like anyone else did either. Some people said it was a terrorist attack, or aliens, and that it was the end of the world. Others said it was a strange, but natural phenomenon, and not to panic. Honestly, I still don’t know what it is. Except that it’s bad.

“Your mom came over that night and helped watch the kids. She was a godsend. Kept me calm when I felt like I was going to panic, cooked some dinner for all of us...you know her, always a level head. And helping us kept her calm too, I think. She called the school, who said they’d be bringing your class back from the trip early. She was so worried for you, but I think taking care of the twins helped her somewhat.” Here Ms. Kathy pauses, as is steeling herself to recount the next memories. “And then the monsters came.

“We had the news playing nonstop that first night, but every report was on the loss of everyone’s Numbers. It wasn’t until more and more monster sightings started showing up, and people started to get them on video, before someone in the news studio figured out they weren’t just crazy rumors, that they deserved airtime too.

“Everything happened so fast after that. Your mom tried to call the school again, but couldn’t get anyone to pick up. Sirens were going off in the streets nonstop, and by the next morning we couldn’t call anyone -- I’m not sure if the lines were overwhelmed or if the towers were down, but the result was the same. We stayed inside and watched the news. The president made an address, telling us to stay calm and stay inside. He ‘explained’ what was going on, but it was a bunch of nonsense, just a roundabout way of saying that he was as clueless as we were. Then he declared martial law and deployed the military to different cities. It...I didn’t know what to do. We kept the news playing all day, but I watched the twins in the kitchen instead while your mom made sure there wasn’t anything important going on. I just couldn’t handle seeing the stuff they were showing, over and over and over.” The twins, previously boisterous, have picked up on the mood in the room, and are quietly snuggling into Melete’s sides, looking for comfort.

“The next day they called for an evacuation to cities that the military had been deployed to -- for us, it was Bothell,” Ms. Kathy continued. “They came through with buses in some neighborhoods, but your mom refused to go, since you were still gone, Elise. Said she wouldn’t leave until you got back, wanted to make sure you had someplace to return to. And we couldn’t leave her behind by herself, not after everything she had done for us. So we stayed too, and tried to prepare as well as we could. Your mom had us fill up the bathtub and as many pots and pans as we could with water, and eat everything perishable. Which was a good thing too, because the next day the electricity went out. The water lasted a bit longer, but after another few days, it went out too.

“I kept thinking that it was only temporary, that one day the government would sweep through and make everything right again...but it never happened. The sirens stopped sounding from outside, but that just meant we could hear screams. It was terrible...but it was even worse when the screams stopped too. After that first week, we stopped seeing anyone through the windows -- at least nothing human.” She shudders, then glances at the twins before continuing without elaborating.

“The twins were cooped up, but we couldn’t let them outside, not when those creatures were roaming the streets. We were starting to run low on food, so your mom snuck out during the day and broke into nearby apartments for supplies. She never really told me what all she saw out there, but after that first trip she was adamant in keeping me and the kids inside. But she still made trips out.

“At first, they were short: only fifteen minutes at a time to nearby apartments and houses. But after a while, her trips got longer and longer. Sometimes, she came back empty-handed, but usually she had lots of food. Plenty, I thought, for what we needed, so I tried to convince her to stay in. But she refused, saying it would only get worse and that we needed to prepare while we still could. That anything she could grab now while supplies were still available might save us later. As if it was a competition for what little was left…”

Ms. Kathy paused, staring at the carpet under her feet. Then she looked up, meeting Melete’s eyes. “Eight days ago she left for more food and supplies. She didn’t come back.”

S: 153

D: 144

W: 389

I: 362

C: 100

0

Skills: Adjust:Self, Bond:Mental