away from Ben Parish, afraid that I would get lost in his eyes and embarrass myself by drooling or doing something else completely mortifying.

The officer nodded at the group and gave them a stern nod before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

"I'm Dumbo," a dark skinned boy spoke up, "That's Poundcake and Oompa," he said, pointing at a young rather plump boy and then at another boy with crooked teeth.

I nodded and gave them a slight wave.

Dumbo appeared to be young as well, and was an owner of evidently large ears (hence the name, I guess).

"I'm Teacup," a small girl piped in.

"I'm Nugget," an even smaller boy added, standing out of line to raise his hand.

I gave him a small smile, feeling a strong sense of pity pang my chest. He was so young- probably the youngest of all the kids in the room. It horrified me that, at such a young age, he had been thrust into a world of terror. And if that wasn't enough, he was now training to fight the thing that had brought that terror upon him.

"The name's Ringer. I don't like to be touched, pestered or talked to," said a tall pale girl.

She looked to be around the same age as I was, but the way she had talked to me suggested that she believed she had authority over the rest of us. I was immediately envious of her seemingly perfect black hair and clear skin (it really wasn't fair that some got to skip over the whole acne and awkward teenage years while the rest of us had to suffer through them).

Ringer stalked away and the last boy (aside from Ben, who still hadn't bothered to say anything) stuck out his hand for me to shake, "Flintstone," he said, "But you can call me Flint," he continued, adding in a wink for good measure.

I forced a small smile, trying to ignore the fact that a guy, with the largest uni brow I had ever seen, was trying to flirt with me.

"Nice to meet you Flintstone," I said shaking his hand, "Canary."

The feel of my new name on my tongue was foreign, rolling off in a new, somehow comforting, way.

After shaking hands for what seemed to feel like forever, I gave Flintstone another awkward smile, wishing he would drop my hand and leave me alone. Every second he stood in front of me made me more and more uncomfortable.

There was a deep cough behind him and Ben rest a hand on Flintstone's shoulder, signaling for him to move away.

He rolled his eyes at Ben and went to go join the other kids who had resumed their games of cards they had been playing prior to my arrival.

Ben stuffed his hands in his front pockets, a behavior that reminded me all too much of the old Ben.

"Your backpack and clothes are on your bunk over there," he said, nodding to the bunk in the corner of the room (which, If I'm being completely honest with myself, I really hoped was near his).

"We'll start with some basic fight training tomorrow and then Ringer will be giving us our first shooting lesson," he said, letting out another smaller cough. "Do you have any skills you can offer the squad?"

I narrowed my eyes slowly.

Did Ben not remember me? Did I not even look vaguely familiar to him?

"Ben," I said, lowering my voice so the others couldn't hear.

Ben brought his arms up to his chest, crossing them in a defiant manner, "Zombie," he said, stressing each syllable of his new name.

His lips remained stationary- in no rush to give me one of his signature smiles. My heart dropped, looking at the boy in front of me as disappointment ran through my veins. This was not the charming Ben Parish I knew.

He looked over at the group playing cards before returning his attention to me, "It's Zombie now," he said softer, kinder.

My lips parted, ready to let protests tumble out.

You can't leave me a lone in this.

You're the only person I knew that's alive, don't you understand how important you are to me?

Ben, or rather, Zombie, opened his mouth as if he was about to say something else, but closed it before I had a chance to get excited.

I pursed my lips, letting my eyes drift down to the floor. Talk about 'raining on my parade'.

It wasn't like Ben and I had been close or anything, but I figured he would've been at least a little relieved to see someone from his old life alive.

"Training is tomorrow," he repeated, "It'll be hand to hand combat, so be ready."

With that, Ben Parish left me, heading over to his bed to lie down alone. He brought his hands up to rest behind his head just as I dragged my gaze away from him.

He looked like Ben Parish but he wasn't Ben Parish.

His hypnotizing smile was gone. The light in his eyes had dimmed out. His energy and charm were no longer existent.

He was uninterested, tired, and on guard.

He was a soldier, with war clouding his mind and death shadowing his eyes.

I shook the thoughts from my head, deciding to grab the bag from my bed (which just so happened to be the one above Ben's) and get changed.

"Join us, when your done?" Oompa asked as I walked by them on my way to the bathroom.

I gave him a smile, "Sure," I said.

It was reassuring to know that although the lot of us had been put through unimaginable things the last few months, some people were still resistant to change. Oompa's kindness was something I was grateful for- reminding me that that there was still hope somewhere in the swamp of dread known as our earth.

Flintstone looked up from his hand of cards to give me a suggestive smile and I quickly looked away, not wasting a second escaping his gaze.

Maybe a shower and a good night's sleep was what I needed to wake up from this nightmare. Hopefully, tomorrow, I'd get up from my bed at home and get ready for school. Hopefully, tomorrow, I'd go to drop off some football jerseys and I'd see the real Ben Parish. Hopefully, tomorrow, Canary would only be the name of a little yellow bird, not the name of a grief-stricken soldier.

~*~*~*~

"Rise and shine, Girl scouts!"

My eyes shot open, surprised by the sudden outburst.

What was going on?

I looked over the steel railing of my bunk and down at the officer standing near the entrance to our room.

With a megaphone in hand, she stalked over to my bed, weaving in and out of the other kids, who were hurriedly climbing out of their beds and dashing off to get ready (or whatever they were doing, I still had no clue).

"Canary," the woman said, stopping at the end of my bed, in perfect view to let her hard, devilish eyes seep into my soul.

I pulled my sheets away from my body, slowly moving to get out of my bunk, still making sure to maintain eye contact with her as I said, "Sir, yes, sir?"

I remembered the way the others had addressed her last night, and figured it was the only appropriate way of talking to the lady in front of me.

"What are you doing?"

I stopped moving, afraid that anything and everything I did would somehow be used against me. "Getting out of bed," I said, "Sir." I quickly added, almost slapping myself for nearly forgetting.

"Is that what you're doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "It seems to me you're already slacking off."

I opened my mouth to give her a piece of my mind, but she turned on the megaphone and swiveled around to face the room before I had the chance to stand up for myself. "Squad 53, it is in your best interest to prevent any slackers from not taking part in their daily duties. Slackers will not only hurt themselves from lack of ambition, but will also hurt the squad. Keep that in mind," she said, before giving me a hard glare, marching out of the room in a defiant manner.

"Nice going, Canary, already starting off on a strong foot," Flintstone laughed.

I quickly climbed down the ladder to my bunk and tossed him a glare, "It's not funny," I said.

Oompa placed a hand on my shoulder, "Nothing to worry about," he said, "Reznik picks on everyone."

"Is that her name?" I asked, "Who is she? Our instructor or something?"

Oompa glanced over at Ben, who had just come from the bathroom, his shirt already tucked into his pants and his boots already laced up tightly. "You mean Zombie didn't brief you about all this last night?" he asked.

I shook my head, "He didn't really say much."

Oompa nodded, "That's Zombie for you," he said, sighing, "Anyways, Reznik is the regiment's senior drill instructor. Never address her as anything but 'sir', don't ever talk back, and always do as you're told," he said, "If you don't, she'll make you do push-ups, give us extra time at P&D, or knock us down in the ranks."

I nodded, as if 'P&D' and 'ranks' meant something to me.

"If you somehow screw up our squad graduating, I'll kill you myself," Ringer said, pushing past us.

I opened my mouth to bark back at her, already completely done with her 'I'm so much better than you' attitude.

Didn't being a part of the same squad mean working together? Treating one another as family? Not killing one another?

"Don't mind her," Oompa said, "She got kicked out of her old squad for disciplinary issues. You'll figure everything out eventually."

I unclenched my fists, deciding to wait to rip her throat out during hand to hand combat practice instead.

"Thanks, Oompa," I said, nodding in thanks before grabbing my clothes and rushing off towards the bathroom.

I'd already gotten in trouble once this morning. Not in a million years did I want that happening again.

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One word: GIF

Anyways, I'm really excited for the next couple chapters, so stick around! Any predictions?

Vote, comment, fangirl over Ben Parish.. y'know all that jazz ;)