Student Activities Complex, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 00:45.

Hainsworth and Sara strolled in the area around the vicinity of the Olympic pool complex.

"Keynes told me a lot about you," he started. "He offered to train you to handle firearms, right?"

Feeling a bit sleepy and very distressed by Mrs. Wilson's demise, Sara wanted to go back to her chocolate-stained bed and either sleep or cry. In such a bad mood, she glowered at the military man, "Fuck Keynes the Kidnapping Cop. Did he tell you how he tried to rescue me?"

Hainsworth chuckled, drawing a disapproving grunt from Sara. "Yes, he did. It wasn't the best course of action but he was under pressure. I believe he already apologized, didn't he?"

She sighed, "Yeah. That doesn't make me like him or wish to become his pupil."

They started to walk around the building. A few lamp posts illuminated the dead silent night. Sara felt cold because the moisture from the mist around the pool clung to her clothes.

"Fair enough," Hainsworth agreed with a nod. "At the time, they were concerned you had a substance abuse problem."

Sara halted and turned on her heels to face Hainsworth and uttered something intelligible as she struggled to keep from verbalizing what she was thinking. The guy was practically the mayor of survivor-land and although she intended to move out, she didn't want to burn that bridge. As the silence stretched and became a staring contest, she caved in.

"As I said, fuck Keynes and his 'cop instincts'," she air-quoted. Sara was becoming incensed as she talked about him and remembered the humiliation. "Guy doesn't know my circumstances and jumps straight to the stereotypes." Mocking Keynes, she pantomimed, "Oh, I am a super-duper cop and know everything, I trespass into someone's home and see this girl alone, she's obviously doing drugs and I can't just leave her alone because I want to feel good about myself so I'm going to bag her with a blanket and drag her out of her FUCKING HOME!" Her yell echoed in the silent campus.

Eerily silent, she couldn't even hear the crickets. If one category of animals could thrive in the Apocalypse, it was the bugs. Hainsworth didn't react to her outburst. The Major just studied the girl in silence and let her vent.

Sara crossed her arms and glowered at the older man, "Is this conversation over?"

Hainsworth chortled at her antics, which made Sara even angrier. She was seriously considering punching him. Then his mirth vanished as his face became stern.

"No, sorry. This is not over. There's one important thing I wanted to tell you. Are you ready to listen?"

She suspected he wanted to ask if she had calmed down, which she hadn't. Even with her Composure Skill keeping her emotions from overflowing, she was on the brink of breaking down. After a minute to catch her breath and gather her wits, she nodded.

"Go on. What's so important?"

"Keynes is dying, Sara. Not only helicopter pilots, but we also have no physicians, no nurses, and his leg stump is infected. He is taking antibiotics but is not getting better. We have no idea if amputating the stump higher will kill him or save his life, it's the flip of a coin with our limited knowledge. He dismissed the idea of more field surgery and made his peace. I wished you could forgive him to remove this burden from his shoulders."

Sara almost quipped back saying she didn't care but that would be a lie. A small part of her cared. Stupid Celestials and their impossible tasks. She refused to be a messianic figure. Keynes's loss of his leg was not her fault, she repeated to herself.

"I'll let it go," she promised. "And talk to him tomorrow." Still bothered and wishing for some solitude, the girl met the tall man's eyes. "Is that all?"

"Let me borrow your ears for a bit longer. We made radio contact with some people on the other side of the interstate. That's one of the many reasons we need to find a way to cross. They have a surgeon with them. Keynes is a good man, and he doesn't deserve to die, at least not because of what he did to you."

Her mood mellowed a little, "I don't want him dead either. Hell, I wish nobody had died," Sara said candidly as her eyes wandered around the dimly lit campus. "But I'm not clearing a way across the interstate. It's impossible."

Hainsworth nodded. "I am sure you'd help if you could."

Sara didn't reply or react. She kept her poker face on. The soldier wasn't wrong she would do everything in her power to help, but he was sorely mistaken about the nature of such help.

Hainsworth continued, "From what we know, Forest Park and the area around Lake Stonecrest were the only regions spared the meteor shower, but downtown Atlanta and the rest of the metropolitan region didn't fare too well or not at all. Nor the rest of the country, from what we could piece together. Brett has spent a lot of time scanning the radio waves using military equipment at the Fort, but we found few signals. A few sparse broadcasts here and there. Pockets of survivors. And we don't know why this happened or why. There's too many mysteries, too many unknown variables."

Sara looked away, uncomfortable. She wouldn't disclose her encounter with Verachiel anytime soon.

"Before you joined us, we sent two teams of armed volunteers to find a way to Atlanta but nobody returned. We found their bodies in exactly the same way as the ones on the Jonesboro overpass. I have the photos to show you if you want."

She didn't join them. As far as Sara was concerned, she was a guest. The library and the Gym were nice, but her freedom was better. "No need to show me the pictures," Sara dismissed.

"You are the youngest in our group," he said wistfully. "People like you and the Archie gang... the college students, I mean, are the future. We hope other places had it better than us but there's reason to seriously doubt it. The few transmissions Brett picked up paint the same tragedy everywhere. We even picked up a few short wave transmissions from other countries. The translation we managed to make hints that things overseas are... no better than ours. It seems our neighborhood was blessed somehow."

To avoid giving any hints, Sara turned around and stared at the indoor pool windows. Hainsworth probably didn't have a clue how close to the truth he was.

"I guess it's pretty bad," Sara remarked bitterly. "But this is feeling like a sales pitch, sir. Can we skip to the part where I tell you I don't need a new vacuum cleaner?"

"As I said before, Keynes proposed to teach you his skills, and you accepted, right?"

"I said I'd consider but the answer is no. I don't know how to deal with him, so I'd rather not."

"Keynes aside, would you like to learn a bit from each of us? I talked to the college kids, and they accepted already. We have valuable life skills that we want to impart to you."

"Best I can do right now is to keep it under consideration, Hainsworth," Sara compromised.

*

*

Student Activities Complex, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 01:00.

Hainsworth walked next to her back into the Athletics center until they made it back to the hallway outside the swimming pool. Both looked at the grim picture of floating waterlogged bodies through the foggy window.

"This is a catastrophe," Hainsworth bemoaned as he shook his head. Sara could feel the sorrow in the man's voice. "Perhaps something irrecoverable. Sara, do you know why we send men to war? I mean, why most soldiers are male?"

"Because men are stronger and more aggressive than women? Because that's the way the world works? I don't know, really," she admitted.

"You are correct it's always been this way, but there's a reason why countries always sent men to fight wars. The ancient people were wise and they realized one huge thing about societies. Let me show you a scenario.

"Imagine two countries with roughly the same population and military strength. They often have battles and skirmishes along the border but their cultures are opposite regarding genders. While country A sends men to war, country B sends mostly women. The ratio of victories is always fifty-fifty. In the long run, which country wins this war of attrition after a century of fighting?"

Sara sighed. She wasn't in the best mind or mood to solve puzzles. "I'm guessing the one who sends men, for some stupid reason."

"Not stupid, but a rather obvious one," Hainsworth replied. "To a population, women are more precious than men. That's why sinking ships always make a point to save women and children first. It's happened in Europe and all over the world in the past. Places where eighty percent of all men died fighting wars but the women survived. Two generations later, the population has bounced back to its original levels. But in places where most women died, civilization ended."

She could understand the logic. Without females to birth more people, a community was indeed doomed. But the abrasive mind of the girl blurted out a thought before she could rein it in.

"So women are nothing more than breeding stock. Marvelous!"

She cringed after hearing what she just said.

Hainsworth didn't comment for a while, leaving an awkward silence.

"No. In the words of a scholar, women are the gatekeepers of reproduction. They are Nature itself," He said with no small admiration. "To answer my previous question, we send men to war because males are expendable. Let me tell you another story. My late wife died years ago, and we had problems getting her pregnant. We went to see a doctor and went out with a few dozen exams to do. Ashley had around forty exams she needed to do, from blood tests to ultrasound scans to urine and whatnots. I only had one, a spermogram.

"If we as a society are to survive, we need to take care of everyone, but especially our women," He slammed a fist on the glass. "This is my failure. Our failure."

Sara sidled a half-step away from the distressed man.

"We shouldn't have left people just lying around and sulking. We should've given them meaningful tasks, to keep them engaged," Hainsworth mumbled to himself."

Sara remained silent, wishing she could go away.

"I'm sorry for your loss, sir," she finally verbalized something.

"I apologize for my behavior during the meeting. We wouldn't force you to do anything, Sara. You are safe here, I promise."

She didn't feel safe anywhere. Not since the Millers stole her future and ripped the band-aid shielding her eyes from the true nature of the world.

Hainsworth continued, "People need to believe there will be a future if they are to keep from following those women. Do you know why they did that?"

Sara nodded. "They were the Necropolis King's victims. His sex prisoners," She admitted with a heavy heart and a shiver in her spine as the girl thought how close she was to turning into one of them. Her luck was that the Necropolis King was paranoid about securing Fort Gillem and would only send his goons out when it was absolutely necessary.

The man had lost all his fighting spirit. If she had to surmise, Hainsworth felt completely defeated.

The Major said slowly, "Think about what we are offering. Life skills. A place to belong and feel safe. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to, Sara. I have a... never mind."

She was startled by Hainsworth's sudden soft tone. And it crept her a little bit. He sounded exactly like she pictured a concerned and overprotective father would. But the odds of two members of the same family surviving the Armageddon shitshow was less than one in a million.

"This," he pointed at the foggy pool on the other side of the glass, "this is a testament to my failure."

Hainsworth was talking to himself so Sara excused herself from reacting. The man looked miserable, defeated. She could tell he had a thousand things going in his head at the same time. Sara had grown a thick skin regarding the dead and death, with the knowledge Abby shared, her experiences, and Composure keeping her from freaking out. The military man, on the other hand, had only his training and grit.

It painted another facet of Major Hainsworth. The girl pondered again on whether to officially join them, or even tell someone about the System. Maybe she should try it with Kelly.

A stray thought went over her mind. Was Kelly a plant? A mole, trying to pry her secrets? Was she in cahoots with the likes of Hainsworth and Keynes?

No way.

Sara knew her answer, and she also knew it would disappoint Hainsworth. So she decided to be diplomatic for a change. "I need to think about it, sir. It's not a decision I can make lightly."

"I understand. Sara, I need two things from you. First, don't talk about this to anyone. We need to disclose what happened here carefully, or people will despair," Hainsworth sighed. "Everyone lost loved ones, family, friends. And now, ten, twelve of the new friends we made last week decided to abandon all hope. Do you understand?"

Sara truly expected him to add "capisce" to the end, like the good mob boss Hainsworth was in her mind. She did understand what was happening. From what she could read from his body language and tone of voice, Hainsworth was going to cover up the mass suicide and make it look like these people had left or something else. But Sara didn't intend to stay at the university. So she decided it was none of her business.

"As far as I know, sir, I wasn't even here," She said staring straight into his eyes.

"Good. Can you go ask Joe to come to help me take them out of the swimming pool? He's in the guard post near the main driveway."

Sara mocked a salute, went to find Joe, relayed the message briefly, then returned to her room. She had too much agitation for one night and the mass suicide was none of her business.

*

*

The classroom chocolate went to die, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 08:00.

Before the first rays of sunlight shone on Georgia, Sara had already taken her stuff from the classroom all the way to the Appleby residence on the Silverado and came back with a new bag of clothes. And a lot of water bottles on the truck bed. From the five-gallon bottles, you put on refrigerated dispensers to half-gallon sports bottles.

Sara wanted to use the university's treated water to shore up her drinking water supply and go on her own way. Looking at her bags, she had no idea why she brought fresh clothes, if she didn't intend to stay, but brought them she did, nonetheless. One of the bags held more power banks to charge. The table was covered in power cords, power bricks, and power banks charging with their cacophony of colorful blinking lights.

That's one worry gone. She would have juice for her phone.

Another of her concerns was that staying here was too convenient and she feared she would go soft.

In her mind, Sara had overstayed at the university by three days already. The conversation at the swimming pool was perfectly avoidable if only she had left when she thought she should.

Someone knocked on the door. Kelly's amicable grin greeted her. "Hey, how are you? Why the circles under your eyes? Did you sleep well?" The musician rapid-fired.

"Some nightmares," Sara misdirected. The girl wouldn't break the news of the mass suicide. That's the Major's job.

"Well," Kelly showed a steel-rimmed carrying case, "it's a good thing I brought you a makeup kit then!"

Sara couldn't help but smile. "You're an angel," she muttered. "Thanks but can we do one thing before that?"

"Shoot, anything," Kelly bobbed her head.

"I need drinking water. I have some bottles on the truck to fill."

"Why would... there's tap water on... wait, what's going on?"

"I wish to have a personal drinking water stash," Sara stated, trying to hold onto her cards.

"What for?"

"A rainy day? We don't know what'll happen tomorrow. Today there's flowing water at the tap, but tomorrow?"

Kelly sighed and shook her head slightly, "Look, if you intend to leave, just say so."

"I'm conflicted," Sara admitted.

"Yeah, let's go fill those bottles. The Environmental Sciences department had a miniature water treatment plant that takes water from Lake Swan. We can fill your bottles there."

*

*

Parking lot D, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 10:20.

They filled the water bottles and loaded the Silverado. Peterson pulled next to them on yet another Silverado, a cobalt blue one.

"Mornin'," the laconic philosopher said. "Are you guys ready to go?"

On the other side of the front bench, Amanda was staring out the window on the other side.

"We still need some time," Kelly replied. "Good morning, Amanda!"

Amanda waved back. Sara thought she looked a bit sick.

"Fine," the man nodded, "We're picking Brett at the station then. Will you be ready by the time we get back?"

"Sure!"

Peterson nodded and put the truck in reverse. He maneuvered and went on his way.

"Did you notice?" Sara asked.

"What?"

"Amanda seemed under the weather. She didn't even bitch."

"That's mean," Kelly admonished. "She's not a morning person. Come, let's get you prettier."

Kelly dragged Sara back to the classroom.

Now she was ready to go shopping, it seemed. Kelly was here, and she wouldn't take a no for an answer.

Point in case, Kelly pushed Sara out of the classroom when the woman deemed the girl ready to go. "Now, let's get to the mall to you some nice clothes. I'm getting you your own makeup kit, and then I'll teach you everything I know."

"Okay!" The girl gave up.

Sara agreed even though she was well aware it was bait to keep her around. Kelly was one of those people who could drag thousands behind her with the force of her cheerful personality alone. In another world, she could be a pop idol or something like that. It wasn't that Kelly grew on people, she wrapped herself around people's lives like the Kraken wrapped tentacles around ships. Except you kind of liked being wrapped in Kelly's congeniality, a diametrically opposite reaction to the dread of being dragged underwater by the Kraken.

"And I am sure we can find some new lingerie in the mall. Something sexy to make all those yucky boys drool after us," the woman giggled, then turned serious. "You need more lace in your brassieres."

Sara deadpanned. She closed her eyes slightly to glare at the older woman. "Hard pass. I'm fine with my choice of underwear. And I barely need bras anyway. I mostly wear them to prevent nipple chafing only."

"Nipple chafing, she says," Kelly teased back. "Some chafing can be good, you know?"

The girl let all emotion fade from her expression. "Yeah, no, thank you. I'm more fond of soft-touches and light caresses than that kind of chafing."

"So confident!" Kelly squealed. "You should've been very popular in high school, right?"

Now Kelly was truly mocking her, Sara decided. Her mood chilled as she remembered everything she went through in school.

"Sorry! Sorry! Me and my loose tongue," Kelly quickly apologized and playfully bit her own tongue before Sara could say anything.

"It's fine," Sara shook her head. "What are you going to do at the mall? Just shopping?"

"We. We are," Kelly glowered.

Sara sighed. "Okay, yeah, we. I'm coming with you. But why the mall? What for?"

Kelly tapped her cheek with a finger, "Oh, Brett read this book series, it's about the end of the world. But instead of a meteorite shower, it was an EMP bomb detonated by North Korea. Crazy, huh?"

"North Korea? Seriously?" Sara asked just to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah. Well, in the book, a hunk of an army ranger comes out of the woods and saves some college girls who were about to be assaulted by a biker gang."

"Let me guess, all the girls fall in love with the guy," Sara rolled her eyes. "And he had a huge..."

"Exactly. It's quite raunchy, by what I glimpsed. I don't know why Brett read that novel... never mind."

Sara failed to understand what Kelly meant. Wasn't it normal for guys to like raunchy novels? Just like gals liked their soppy romances.

"I still don't see what it has to do with visiting the mall."

"I'm getting there! Patience!" Kelly giggled. "In the story, they keep rescuing more and more people,"

"And everyone wants to learn to shoot with the army ranger's meaty rifle, I bet. Do they have orgies?" Sara snorted a chortle.

"No. He only has four girls. I think he gets a fifth at the twelfth book. Yes, it's a long series but Brett seems to like him."

"Pfff," Sara sputtered. "Let me guess. A redhead, a blonde, a brunette, and a black girl."

Kelly cringed, "All white."

"That's terrible!" Sara gasped. "No token black cutie? What happened to ethnic representation? Are them sisters too good for the beardy hunky army ranger? Go on, what happens next?"

So, in the sixth novel, they make a list of comfort items for the survivors in their college..."

"Oh, so they live in a college just like us. So, is Hainsworth our army ranger? Shouldn't we all fawn over him?"

"Meanie!" Kelly pushed Sara away. "No harem in real life, please. That stays with the raunchy fiction. It's like Julia Quinn, but for boys."

"Julia who?" Sara asked.

Kelly deadpanned and grabbed Sara's arm, "You uncultured barbarian. We need to go back to the library ASAP!"

She actually started dragging Sara back. Then she stopped, and both broke down in fits of giggles.

"I got it, I got it," Sara said as she tried to catch her breath. "I'm going shopping with you. But if the mall is disgusting, I'm coming right back."

Kelly grinned. "Oh, don't worry. You'll love what Brett got us."

*

*

Parking lot D, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 10:20.

Military-grade gas masks, that's what. Sara was quite happy to get one because Mr. Appleby's respirator never fitted right, even with the straps so tight it left a red ring around Sara's face. Masks meant no more smelly cadaverine and, more importantly, no more eating bugs.

Amanda seemed better but Sara was still suspicious. Peterson was helping her put her mask on. The couple's dynamics were still a puzzle to the girl.

She wasn't happy that the two lovebirds were tagging along but she forcefully reminded herself she was the tag-along, the fifth wheel on this double date.

Was it a double date, though?

Kelly and Brett weren't an item. She actually suspected Brett wasn't interested in females, period. But again, he enjoyed that "man's fantasy" post-apocalyptic novel. Unless she asked, which she wouldn't, all Sara could do was wait for the answer to fall on her lap.

At the end of the day, it was none of her business, more power to him. Sara's policy was to leave people alone and hope they paid the favor back so she played by the book and stopped wondering about the college students' emotional dynamics.

Around them, the survivors were getting themselves busy.

They watched as the loudspeaker van left with a couple of survivors, to roam the streets and see if they would find someone else alive. Also, Keynes, Trevor, and another three left in another car. The cop waved at her before getting into the vehicle to let Trevor stow the wheelchair in the trunk.

"The ice cream truck will look for more survivors in the northwest, Keynes and Trevor are checking through Fort Gillem's supplies today," Brett explained and waved a sheaf of papers. "We got the mall raid. Everyone gets a copy of the comfort item list, and some other nice things to keep an eye out for. We'll have a large truck come in the afternoon to get what we set aside for pickup, so you can go crazy on the targets of opportunity."

"We should ditch the college and move to a farm," Kelly suggested.

"It's not a bad idea," Amanda said. "There's crops and livestock in the countryside. while we have more than enough food for the winter here, we need to prepare for later. And nobody knows how to farm. We should start now."

Sara was impressed by the reasonable argument. Maybe she's been biased in her evaluation of Amanda's character.

"Moving to the countryside might be a good idea," the usually quiet Peterson seconded his girlfriend's opinion by placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Depending on what the team that went to the farms finds, we are thinking to claim one for ourselves."

Though she didn't share her thoughts, Sara knew she had to remain in the city and find as many ghosts as possible. She needed the Skill points they provided and the thought of leaving the lost souls lingering around made her sad. As painful as it was to shoulder the last moments of a dead person, the alternative brought her even more grief. She wouldn't willingly let one of them become a wraith again.

Abby chimed in out of the blue.

Sara asked, the start of a headache forming as she tried to communicate mentally.

Sara quietly nodded.

"Are you okay, Sara? Why don't we try the gas masks now? Do you want me to help?" Kelly suggested.

"I'm fine. Just remembered a dream I had last night. But yes," she lied as she took the mask Kelly pushed her way. The girl frowned as she looked at the complex straps. "Help me with the straps, please?"

Kelly helped fit the mask on Sara's face, lamenting the ruined makeup. Sara thought it was an acceptable loss if it meant no chance of eating bugs or smelling the rotten corpses. She in turn helped fit the mask on the bubbly woman while Brett helped Amanda and Peterson with theirs.

"Final check," Brett clapped her hands. "Does everyone bring their snacks and water bottles?"

"Yes, teacher," Sara rolled her eyes." She had two half-gallon sports bottles filled with filtered water. With her enhanced strength, carrying this much water was not a bother.

"Then load it on the back. Let's get going!" He excitedly went around the truck.

The five youngsters boarded the cobalt-blue Silverado and Peterson drove them to the mall.

> We are the Clayton County Council, here to help. If you can hear this, please contact us.

The loudspeaker van started calling for survivors.

"Why use the county council name?" Sara asked.

"Because we need," Brett replied with a bit of pride. "We need governance, and the majority of the population is here."

"We didn't vote on it, though," Amanda added.

"Government has to go on. Someone must step in and take the reins," Brett rebutted.

"Guys, it's just a message to make people feel safe to reveal themselves," Kelly mediated. "Nobody is taking over the government without proper procedure, right?" She glanced at Brett.

"Yes, of course. this is still a democracy," he agreed.

"Our country is a republic though, not a democracy," Sara retorted.

"She has a point," Peterson rumbled.

Sara watched the van disappear to the north. A few survivors were doing what they could to help each other while the majority just sulked in a corner and considered suicide.

Guilt struck Sara as she thought about what she's done in the last two weeks and found that she mostly looked after herself. Even now, with the opportunity to be part of something bigger, she mostly kept to herself.

Of course, that was from the point of view of an outsider.

Not only she was working on the System to help all of humanity, but what she did for the ghosts was unique, and now that she knew that an enraged soul could turn into a wraith and literally suck souls out of dogs or kill people in extreme cases, clearing the city of the restless dead was a very important task. One only she could do.

*

*

Downtown Atlanta, Fulton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 10:20.

Two survivors were scavenging the dead city for supplies. Inside a travel agency, the woman sifted through the leaflets and folders of several experiences in the Atlanta region, when she found something that caught her eye.

"We need to go north," Martha told Ted out of the blue.

"What for?" The man asked back.

She showed him one of the folders. "We need a hot air balloon. If we have one, we can cross the interstate from above and rejoin my father. You heard them. They have helicopters, but nobody to pilot them."

"Sorry, Martha," Ted lamented as he shook his head. "It's not happening."

Annoyed at the negativity, Martha demanded, "Why not?"

Ted took the folder and looked at it. He pointed at the small map printed on the back. The place Martha wanted to get a balloon from was in the rich northern suburbs.

"The Gang. Fuel. We put a balloon in the air, they'll shoot it down. Not to mention they control the northwest. We'd need to trespass into their claim to get where you want to go. 'Sides, how would we transport a balloon all the way back here?"

The woman dropped her backpack and opened it. It was rather empty. "Ted, how much food did we gather this morning? How much anything?"

"Close to nothing," Ted reckoned with great dismay.

"They have two supermarkets worth of food over there. Electricity. Hot water!" Martha protested, then bemoaned, "Phone chargers and Wi-Fi! We need to cross it over. And a balloon will fly even with a few holes in it."

"They'll aim for the basket," Ted deadpanned. "And they don't have internet access. Nobody has."

Martha grunted. "I hate it when you are the voice of reason."

"Sorry, I'm trying to keep us alive."

"They are sending a drone with supplies this afternoon," she remarked.

"Yes, I know that."

The woman glowered but said nothing. She was annoyed that he would often cut the conversation with those logical remarks, instead of letting it flow.

"I'm going north to get me a hot air balloon. If you don't come with me, I won't let you ride in it."

*

*

Intersection of Jonesboro Road and Southlake Parkway, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019.10:35

"Yesterday, some guys asked me again if you had anything to sell them," from the front seat, Amanda told Sara. "They looked desperate to buy some drugs."

"Even if I had any to sell, which I don't, what would they pay me with?" Sara challenged as she met the acrid woman's gaze head-on. "What do I need to do to prove to you I'm clean, Amanda?"

"You don't need to," Kelly moved an arm to hug her. "We believe you."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "thanks for the white lie?"

"Besides," said Amanda turning on the front seat, "Keynes searched your car. He said it was clean."

"He did WHAT?" Sara's heart sank. Did he find the keys to Christine's apartment? Was she followed during her outing earlier that day? She tried to stand up but the stupid seat belt held her back. "Stop the truck!" She demanded.

"Amanda!" Kelly berated. "Don't lie about such things! Keynes didn't do that, Sara. You don't have to worry. She's just teasing you."

The girl found it hard to calm down. Sara crossed her arms over her chest, and shut the outside world, but not before she glared at Amanda and cursed. "Bitch." Composure Skill or not, she was fuming.

"But judging your reaction, you must have something you really want to hide from us, don't you?" Amanda sneered. It was probably payback from a few days ago.

"Only a couple of dead bodies. Your mom and dad," Sara snapped before she could think better.

"Oh, no, you didn't!" Amanda hissed.

"That's not okay, Sara!" Kelly tried to mediate. "You two, wai—

The girl sneered at the woman bending around in the front seat. Then she flipped the bird at Amanda. "They were fucking when they died. Not each other, mind you."

It hit a little too close to home. Everyone there had lost their parents but Sara. Kelly shook her head.

"You little bitch!" Amanda jumped in her seat. Only the seatbelt kept her from moving to the rear bench. Peterson kept the truck going, seemingly unwilling to engage in the dispute.

"Sara! Amanda, don't you dare start a catfight. She's just a child!" Kelly tried to mediate. "Sara, please take it back!"

Sara wheezed indignantly. She had to remind herself it was Kelly and yes, she was legally a child. The teenager sounded apologetic at the start, "Yeah, sorry about that. I should respect the elderly," Sara pressed on the offense with more offenses.

Amanda hissed, then slapped Peterson's arm. "Stop the truck!"

This time, Peterson obeyed as he braked hard, jerking everyone inside the vehicle. Sara imagined that Amanda must be a really good fuck if Peterson was willing to put this much shit for a woman he met after the world ended. Maybe it was the lack of options. In Amanda's own words, they had more women than men.

Had that ratio changed with the mass suicide? Sara was unsure.

Amanda got down on the deserted road. Sara watched as the woman went around the truck, and tried to open her door. The girl held the inner handle and braced. It became a tug-of-war but Sara had a clear advantage. 'Who's the child now', the girl smugly thought.

"Amanda, what are you—" Kelly kept failing to be the voice of reason.

The woman outside was going ballistic, screaming, pulling, and hitting the metal of the door. "Get down right now, you little bitch. I'm going to teach you some manners," Amanda screeched.

Peterson put his head out the window and talked to his girlfriend in a commanding voice. "Amanda, you're being stupid, we haven't cleared this region yet. What if there's a sniper in one of these buildings?"

Sara thought that was a good concern to have. "Is there any?" She asked Abby out loud.

"What?" Peterson replied, thinking Sara was talking to him. "How would I know. I'm just trying to talk some sense into her." He offered in the way of an apology.

"Only one way to find out," That was good enough for her. Sara unbuckled her belt. Amanda finally got the door open but wasn't really expecting Sara to confront her. As she prepared to jump down, Sara's face appeared to be about to bring down Heaven's wrath on the hostile woman.

A worried Kelly grabbed the girl's wrist. "Don't do it!"

"Do what?" Sara deadpanned as she met Kelly's worried eyes. "Fight her? Pfft. Not worth it, I'm not even considering the option." She wrested her hand out of Kelly's grip, then turned her legs sideways toward the half-open door, meeting Amanda's bloodshot eyes. "Do you mind? I'm trying to get off the truck."

Kelly hugged Sara from behind and brought her face up close. "Sara, please. Stay in the car, let me talk to Amanda. We don't want to start a fight. Besides, we hadn't yet cleared this neighborhood. Peterson is right, there might be hostile survivors. Or worse, the undead."

"I—" A distracted Sara didn't get to reply because Amanda tried to slam the door on her knees.

The girl only had time to lift a foot and hold the door back. She thought about waiting until the woman relaxed her grip to kick it in her face but she really didn't want to get physical. She just lazily flexed her leg anytime Amanda tried to push the door to close, wondering that the woman was attempting to open it just a while ago, making it go back and forth like a seesaw of angst and antagonizing disgust. Each revolution made Amanda angrier and something dark inside Sara pulsed with stronger darkness. She worried about awakening her sadistic side or some other bullshit.

"Amanda, stop what you're doing and get in the car," Peterson ordered with a deep rumbling tone. It made Sara stop and reconsider her evaluation of the man. "It's not okay anymore."

Amanda paused. Sara revisited her assessment of the couple's dynamics. Amanda relaxed her grip on the door and Sara almost kicked right into her face. It took all her willpower to stop her from escalating things out of spite. She wasn't that far down the road to evil to do that. So instead she jumped off the truck and deftly put her Adroitness to work as she dashed around and away from a conflicted Amanda, stopping only when she was on the other side of the road.

"Where are you going?" Kelly shouted as she too got off the truck.

Sara returned but went around the Silverado, avoiding Amanda who was talking to Peterson.

"I got a job nearby," Sara replied as she fetched her bags and water bottles out of the truck bed. "You guys go to the mall and do your thing, I'll walk back to the university on my own."

"You what?" Amanda gasped. She was out of her game now that Sara refused to engage. Apparently, Amanda feared being alone and couldn't believe that Sara was just walking away.

The girl stared at the bitchy woman. Sara clicked her tongue and shook her head slowly in disapproval. "You guys think I'm a drug junkie, but in fact, I'm doing God's work out there," Sara said candidly.

She spun to look inside the truck's rear seat and found the poor computer scientist completely overwhelmed. "Sorry, Brett!"

Kelly nodded. Brett, watching from the back seat through an open door, tried to crack a sympathetic smile. Peterson was glaring at Amanda and holding her hand to keep her next to the driver's door.

Singled out, Amanda looked around and gaped, "You guys believe this bitch?"

"Amanda, for all that's holy, shut up," Peterson rumbled, annoyed.

Brett shook his head in silence and returned a thumbs up. With a grin and a nod, Sara slung her backpack over a shoulder and started walking away. Such useless drama.

Kelly sighed and clapped Amanda's shoulder. "I do, in fact, believe her. You disappointed me, Amanda. Sara was childish, but she is a child. We'll talk about that later," the musician started to jog. "Sara, wait! I'm going with you."

Brett sighed, then waved. "You girls take care." He shouted.

"Amanda, get in the car or I'm leaving you behind with them," Peterson threatened and he sounded serious. Amanda climbed back into the front passenger seat without another word.

With an apologetic but understanding frown, Brett reached out and pulled the rear passenger door closed. Peterson slammed the gas and the Silverado sped away. Kelly caught up with the girl. Sara didn't look back.