#GingerbreadWrites

[notforconsumption]

I’m gonna regret this but if you’re still doing those drabbles, could you do “Mourn Me?” With Sam and Five?

Leave a “Mourn Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character mourning another character’s death. 

No spoilers in this one, just pure, unfiltered angst.

It’s generally accepted that there are about five stages in grieving a loved one, stages a person must endure to move on. Sam stumbles at the first hurdle.

Your name is Sam Yao and your best runner just died.

No, correction. Your name isSam Yao and you just heard your closest friend choke of their own blood, takeone gasping, rattling breath, and then stop. You heard nothing else. Theequipment was on, is on, and functioning perfectly fine.

You are the radio operatorfor Abel Township, pioneers of the apocalypse, and you’re screaming into yourmicrophone because Runner Five isn’t responding. They haven’t made a noise inseveral minutes even though the little red light next to their number tells youthat their headset is still transmitting and Five is quiet but there’s quietand then there’s dead quiet.

It takes three people to drag you away from the comms desk whenthey finally hear you and come running. No one knows what happened becauseyou’re not exactly coherent. It’s pretty clear, though, from how you’re stillcrying their name and no no no no please no despite how much yourthroat hurts and how they’ve taken the microphone away from you.

It’s difficult to tell whathappens next but you wake up the next morning and for a long time you’re no oneat all. 

You’re adrift.

It feels like it should feelgood. You’re floating and everything is pillowy, even the spring-shot oldmattresses of the Abel hospital have all the give in the world to them. It’slike tumbling through an infinite goosedown duvet, not that you’ve ever slepton goosedown. This is what you imagine it must be like. Soft. Light. Painless.That’s what is missing.

It takes feeling nothing toremind you where you are and how you probably got there and that your name isSamuel Yao, radio operator for Abel Township, and you just led Runner Five intoan ambush. You just led Runner Five to their death.

Sitting up results in fallingout of bed onto hard linoleum with a resounding smack. You’re throwing up fromeither the morphine vertigo or from coming back into your own head - there’sburning in your throat and in your eyes something fierce. There are hands inyour hair, gentle but shaking, and the thickness of tears in Maxine’s voicemakes the retching worse.

The pit of your stomach isempty and then some by the time you can sit up. There’s acid on your tongue andacid burning on your mind.

The room spins, you let it. Nauseameans precious little to you. It all begins to stay, eventually, the worldsettling into place around you. There is no dream. There is only Maxine,beautiful brown eyes shot through with red looking at you like you’re the one withbits torn out of your chest.

At some point you’re moved,Maxine guides you like you’ll float off into the great blue sky without herhand on your arm, to the farmhouse. You’re not alone here- on the contrary, itfeels like the whole of Abel has forced its way inside to spectate yourfailure. If you weren’t already swaying on your feet it would make you dizzy.

All you want is foreverything to stop.

No, correction. You wanteverything to rewind. So desperate your heart aches in your chest like your ribcageis slowly crushing it - you need everything to go back. To reverse the lasttwenty-four hours and consign them to your far-flung nightmares.

Everything stays how it is.The people around you talk and you don’t so much listen as you absorb the wordsthat sigh and grind and struggle through the air.

Nothing is new to you, butone by one they confirm something you sort of already knew. No one saw RunnerFive die.

You heard them, yes. The wetsound of liquid filling their airways, the sudden lack of any sound at all. Butyou did not see them go.

There’s a certain irony toit, your mind tells you as you sit on the sunken sofa in Janine’s living roomand half listen to the things people are saying. Strange - that you wouldn’tsee Five die. You who have watched them for a thousand hours through a thousandcameras from an infinite number of angles. You can recognise their stridethrough screens that are more static than image. You know the tilt to theirhead when the signal is bad in the same way you know the shake in their whenyou crack a joke.

Only sometimes, though.Sometimes your jokes are pretty terrible.

The night passes so slowly once everyone else has left andthere’s no longer a crowd to drive home the many people you’ve robbed. The walkback to the comms shack is unfamiliar in the pre-dawn light, as unfamiliar asthe silence that waits for you on the other end of the radio. The little redlight burns on until morning, when the sunrise bleeds through the dusty windowin a sickly pink - the colour of blood in water. It stings your eyes but youdon’t miss the LED begin to flicker, despite your hoarse please, please, please no,don’t go. It blinks out.

With the day comes nothingmuch new. The comms are still quiet. There’s still a sizeable hole in yourchest somewhere beneath your sternum. A team is sent out - Jody volunteers, sodoes Owen and Lou and Ed even though he’s not a runner and so many others youforget - to find Five. 

They don’t. 

You name is Sam Yao and rightnow you’re not an operator because you’ve been relieved of duty until yourdirect superior and assigned medical professional deem you fit to resume work.Janine and Maxine may have barred you from the shack but they can’t stop youfrom waiting on the wall above the gate where the snipers sit.

You see them come home, theretrieval team. They bring nothing with them, not a body to burn and not thevaguest idea where it even is.

Then it’s tomorrow, the samestory, and the next day. The snipers have begun to give you a wide berth. Likeyou’re infectious, which is silly. If you were, well. They’ve got their guns.

After a week the others stoplooking. Logically, the body must have gotten up and shambled away. But Fivewasn’t bitten. It could have been eaten. But, again, you’ve seen some peopletorn apart by the hoards. There are bones left. Bits of clothing, anythingnon-organic like Five’s headset, their backpack, their lucky trainers. Thatwould have been left even if nothing else was. You throw up again, when youthink about this, over the wall this time. The burn is familiar now.

“We’ll never stop looking,Sam, not really.” Jody tells you after the final failed retrieval mission. Shelooks like she hasn’t slept in days. Both of you are hardly eating but despiteall the searching all they’ve found is a congealed puddle of blood. at the endof that damned dead end, the blind alleyway you send Five down to their end. “Ifwe even think we see Five you know we’ll stop what we’re doing. Go after them.Bring them home, if we can.”

There’snothing much you can do but say you understand. So you do, and then you go backto the wall to your watch as Jody watches your back retreat. At some point you’vetaken to searching the horizon for that familiar stride, that certain width ofshoulder and turn of face.

Becauseif they haven’t found them, perhaps there isn’t anything to find. PerhapsRunner Five is out there, still. They’ve made it home before, through far worsethan this. Through gunfire and grasping hands and the vast hunger of theapocalyptic night they have made it home to you.

Yourname is Sam Yao and you will wait as long as it takes for Runner Five to come backto you. 

This is not the first night you’ve stayed up waiting for your runners. It’s not the first night you’ve stayed up for Five, pouring your heart into a dead frequency. This is no different. Tomorrow night will be no different, nor the night after that. There can be no end to the book you were writing together without the final page.

You remain constant in your vigil. You remain on the wall even as the autumn chill creeps into your bones and makes a home there. Even as your eyes smart with water, irritated by bright red light of the beacon flashing atop the radio tower. It stays. Five knows to follow it home.

Your name is Sam Yao and you are still waiting.

[notforconsumption]

So for the prompt thing if it's okay to ask away: maybe some Sam/Five or Sara/Five bonding? Not very specific but maybe about bonding over gardening, or killing zombies, or things they miss from before the apocalypse? I feel like that would be very sweet!

This is a very sweet prompt and I might have got carried away with my brain wanting to strongarm in every element you suggested. 5000 words isn’t that long, but definitely longer that I’d intended. Let’s hope it’s worth the wordcount?

Fair warning that it’s been proofread once, just now, and I’ve had two gin and tonics.

The sky had bled into vibrant streaks of orange so strikingthat Runner Five had almost paused to take in the scene. A part of her, an echoof someone she once was, wanted to reach for the phone she no longer had andsnap a photo. It was a good thing that Five didn’t actually stop. She hadbarely made in inside the walls when whomever was on duty dropped Abel’s heavymetal gate on a fast zombie that had been far too close for comfort.

Safe, finally, Five slowed from a run to a walk to astumble. Behind them, the earth was stained with the dark blood of the undeadwhose reaching fingers still twitched. The gate had fallen exactly on its headand crushed it like an egg.

Five laughed, breathless but joyful. She had been out forhours and was pumped full of the adrenalin rush she only got from these kindsof runs. These runs, of course, being those she shared with Sara.

“See, Five, I told you we would make it back beforesundown,” Sara said, unable to hide the way her grin bled into her words evenas she, too, fought to catch her breath. “We were totally fine.”

“Don’t look now, but I think someone might disagree withyou,” Five said, having spotted their radio operator emerging from the commsshack behind Sara looking as stern his face allowed.

“Five! Eight, you’re both alright?”

Sam looked more dishevelled that he usually did, which was atestament to how he had spent the last two hours running his hands through hishair and tugging on his clothes as his runners clambered through an abandonedmegastore. One he had explicitly told them was too dangerous to chance.Especially so close to the end of the day.

It looked like, for a moment as Sam’s arms fluttered at hisside unsurely, that he was going to hug Five. Any such reunion was postponed oncloser inspection of the runner. She was covered in blood and grime, so much itwas hard to tell where runner ended and zombie viscera began. Instead, Samcrossed his arms across his chest to tamp down on his fidgeting.

“We’re fine, Sam,” Sara waived a dismissive hand. “We alwaysare.”

Sam made a pained noise somewhere in his throat and Fivefelt her heart twinge. While she trusted Sara, and her own ability to outrun orgun most of anything outside of Abel, she hated seeing Sam upset and now it waspretty clear he was. It was at least in part her fault.

“Sorry, Sam.” Five said, cutting off whatever he was goingto say to Sara. “For making you worry. But we are good at what we do. And itwas worth it.”

It looked like Sam was going to retort, but then hisshoulders relaxed and the corners of his mouth tugged up reluctantly. He’dtaken her reassurance, Five saw, and she wondered how much of that was becausehe actually trusted her and how much was because she honestly felt like shecould take on the world in that moment. There was a faint tremor in all Five’slimbs but, if asked, in that moment she could have run the day again. It washard to sound unconvincing when you were ready to fight a mountain.

“Well you’re right, obviously, but,” he shrugged helplessly.“Please. That was too close.”

None of them looked at the smear by the gates but they wereall thinking about it. It had only been a couple of meters behind Five as shecame in. The snipers usually took out anything that got within spittingdistance.

“We’ll be careful, Sam. But for now I think Five and I aregoing to hit the showers and get checked out. If we stand around much longerlike this we’ll start attracting flies.”

Sara was still smiling, but she was right. It had been easyto ignore the mud between toes and the brain matter in hair when blood andstakes were high, but back within Abel’s walls Five’s skin began to itch. Theurge to be clean again overwhelmed her. The showers were so close.

Reassuring Sam some more could wait. Everything could wait,actually, until Five had scrubbed herself raw and new.

With a nod to Sara, Five shrugged off her pack and offeredit to Sam with a cheeky smile. Technically, the Runners were supposed todeliver their own packs and help who ever was on duty sort through what they’dbrought back. Alert them to any special purpose something had, warn them of anypossible sharp objects. That kind of thing. At this point, hours after she hadbeen scheduled back, Five just wasn’t feeling it.

It seemed like Sam wouldn’t take it, he did his his best tokeep his arms crossed and look disappointed with her, but the operator hadalways been weak to Five’s smiles. Even when she was covered in filth. Fivegrinned a little more genuinely and Sam’s face may or may not have flushed. Itwas hard to tell in the amber half-light of sunset. With a put-upon sigh, he tookher pack from her, eyes wide as he felt how heavy it was.

“What did you guys find, an untapped supply of lead? I hateto break it to you, but this is a zombie apocalypse, not a nuclear apocalypse.”

“Mainly cans, Sam.” Sara said, removing her knife from herown pack. “And electrical supplies. You might want to track down Janine, she’llbe happy with us. Or our haul, at least. Not sure how she’ll feel about thebreaking protocol part.”

The smirk told Five and Sam that Sara knew exactly whatJanine would think, but so long as it was her on the run and not one of theother runners they were safe from a dressing down. Whether it was for theirfriendship or the strange, unconditional trust they shared, Janine seemed totake everything Sara did at face value.

Sam grunted as Sara’s pack hit him in the chest and hescrabbled to keep it from dropping to the floor with all their precious spoils.

“Hey!”

“We’ll see you at dinner, Sam.” Sara waved over hershoulder, already turned about and on her way to the quarantine shower block. Five waved too, trying to memorisethe image of Sam struggling to hold up the two backpacks and pouting afterSara’s retreating form, before jogging away.

                                                              *

The water hit Five’s bare back and the feeling of antscrawling on her skin vanished with the first layer of grime.

Somewhere to her right, closer to the door, Sara sighed witha relief similar to what Five felt. It wasn’t normal that they came back lookinglike they’re fought their way through a small army, but then it wasn’t everyday that they did fight their way through a small army. They’d had to cutthrough so many undead that the blood had soaked into the wooden handle ofFive’s axe so deeply it was certainly stained. She didn’t know if it was safe to use anymore.That would be something she would have to ask Maxine about when she had thechance. Residual infection risk and the like. But, later.

The thoughtof her axe swam in her mind then was washed away by the warm spray, likeeverything else. Runner Five retraced the shape of the day in her mind as shescrubbed her arms clean, letting it pass her by.

The day had started well, they’d had a good run. Thenanother- and then the megastore. Five wasn’t sure that could be called a goodplace, only the outcome was good. They were both alive. Unbitten. They hadn’tbeen checked over yet but neither of them were the type to hide something likethat. And they had enough fuses and wiring to keep the electrics ticking overfor a month at least.

Perhaps Five could categorise this one as a good run. A goodday? Maybe. One worth remembering.

“Five?” Sara called, her voice muted by the rushing waterbut still cutting into whatever circle Five’s thoughts were falling into.

“Mm?”

“You okay there?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good,” Sara said, and Five could hear the amusement in hervoice. “Because if we’re going to get to the mess before they throw theleftovers to the goats we’re going to need to get a move on.”

Five blinked and came back to herself properly. She haddrifted away somewhere in the comfort of the warm water, long enough that Sarawas already towelling off and getting dressed in fresh clothes someone hadbrought them while Five had been spaced out.

By the time Five was dried and dressed she was contemplatingjust skipping dinner and letting the goats take her portion. The rush that camefrom killing and not-quite dying had faded and left in its place a weaknessthat shook through all of Five’s muscles.

“On second thought, I might just go to bed. Food isoverrated.”

“Oh no you don’t, Five. You are not leaving me to sufferSam’s fretting by myself.” Sara threw a heavy arm over Five’s shoulder in agesture that Five interpreted as the threat it was. You walk, or you getdragged.

“Ugh.”

There was no fighting it, not unless she wanted to make adash across the Township, the thought of which made her legs pre-emptivelywobble in protest. Instead, Five resigned herself to another hour or so awake.She supposed it wasn’t the end of the world. Sam would definitely still bethere, even though they had taken a while getting washed up. He was like that.

It was a testament to how late they’d made it back that themess, a kitchen with a glorified awning really, was mostly empty. Usually comedinner time it would be heaving, the kitchen churning out as much as it couldand a line would form around the interior walls. People would be squished alongevery bench and those with younger bones or less scruples would find a patch offloor to sit on.

As Five and Sara entered through the door, a barely-therething pilfered from an old shed, they immediately clocked about twenty peopleincluding some very familiar faces.

“Hey! Over here,” Jodie called, standing up to wave themover. “I’d say we saved you seats but they kind of emptied themselves.” She wassmiling, but it looked a little too wide to be quite natural at them justjoining her for dinner. It took a second for Five to clock that Owen was theother end of the bench Jodie was on and obviously edging closer, barelyacknowledging their appearance.

The people on kitchen duty fretted at making more work forthe clean-up crew when they had already begun to pack away the day’s remains,but one thing Five had learnt is that ‘no’ wasn’t something that happened toRunner 8. She wasn’t sure whether it was the implications about food suppliesshe made or Sara’s generally intimidating aura, but whatever the method theresult was Five and Sara walking back to their table with generous portions ofsome approximation of shepherd’s pie.

Sometimes, Five remembered that Sara had been a mother andwondered what that was like, that family. Two teenagers with characteristicstubbornness clashing with the Sara Smith. Immovable objects meeting anunstoppable force.

Evan, who had apparently finished eating a while ago and wasjust sticking around for the company, waved to Five, gesturing to the emptyspace beside him at the table. Before Five had to make the decision between blowingoff Evan and leaving Jodie to the uncomfortably tender mercies of Owen thedecision was taken from her as Sara slid onto the bench beside their Head ofRunners without a word. Evan started, turning in his seat to look at Sara who ignoredhim, digging into her food.

“Hi,” Five greeted as she came up behind Jodie and fought tocontrol her laugh at the pure relief that her friend broadcasted to her throughher eyes.

The bench was hard with no give to it, but Five collapsedonto it anyway. She closed her eyes and took a moment to savour the feeling ofnot being on her feet.

“Tough run?”

“Oh, not so bad.” Sara said around a mouthful.

Opening one eye, Five’s hand shot out and she stole one ofSara’s carrots from her plate and munched on it, staring into her eyes as shedid.

“Easy for you to say,” Sam said, dropping down into the seatacross from Five, apparently back from returning his crockery. “You’re notafraid of anything. I’m pretty adverse of seeing my runners get eaten alive fora few cans of beans. But you know, that’s just me.”

“And fuses,” Five chipped in between bites of her dinner.“Those too.”

“I’d rather have you in one piece that a handful of fuses!”

The way Five’s heart took that wasn’t how it had probablybeen meant, but her face warmed anyway and she had to duck her head and focusvery hard on the pile of mashed potato and veg on her plate. Was it reallyshepherd’s pie if it had no mince?

“What went wrong? Youguys were out for ages.” Jodie asked, saving Five from having to say somethingelse, or not say anything else and make it awkward.

“Five and Eight decided to raid the megastore out by the leisurepark. Because, apparently, a small army of the undead is a minor inconveniencewhen there’s cans of spaghetti hoops on the line.”

Owen’s head snapped around to fix Five then Sara with anopenly awed stare. “You got some spaghetti hoops? What do you think’ll happento them?”

“The same thing that happens to all the food,” Jodie sighed,pointedly not looking at Owen. “They go to the kitchen. Like they always do.It’s not exactly a mysterious process.”

It looked like the two were going to fall into a spell ofbickering over Five’s head as she tried to eat, and Jodie had an edge to hervoice that was tired enough to really snap back. Sara was briefly distracted bythis, watching in wait for the explosion from one or the other of them. Fivestole another a piece of broccoli from her plate. Her distant smile flatlined.

“Whose grand idea was that?” Evan cut in, face severe. “Thatplace is a marked red-zone. Out of bounds for runners without expresspermission, let alone two of our best we can’t afford to lose.”

“Ah, but surely if we’re two of the best we should be fine,Seven.” Sara laughed, but it was a dangerous laugh. Five had never been able topin down those two. They seemed like they should get on, but evidently someoneknew something she didn’t. “And look at us both, not a scratch on us. Or no importantones, anyway.” Sara examined her right arm, a little scraped from manoeuvring afire axe into zombie skulls within the tight confines of a service corridor.Evan moved further along the bench, away from the danger-zone of Sara’s sharpelbows as she twisted to examine the raw skin more closely.

“One success does not a precedent make. Honestly, you’vegotten worse recently. All this risk-taking.”

“He’s right, actually,” Sam said, eyes cast upwards as hethought about it. “You’ve been taking bigger risks, ever since, oh.” Samblinked.

“Since?” Jodie said, having briefly forgotten her wish to pushOwen off the bench.

“Since you started going on runs with Five, Sara.”

There was a moment where everyone considered this and foundno rebuttal. Instead of denying it, Sara just shrugged.

“So it’s better to risk two lives than one?” Evan sniped,evidently not over whatever animosity that lay there.

Sara snorted into her water. “More like it’s better to havesomeone watching your back. Five and I work well together, we can do more as apair than I can alone. Some of us are willing to put the good of the townshipbefore ourselves. And,” Sara added, as if to ease the sharpness of what she’dsaid, “it’s fun.”

“Huh.” Runner Five put down their fork and then it struckthem. “Oh. I’m an enabler.”

The table dissolved into laughter and conversation thatwashed away the residue fatigue and tension of the day, and Five took theopportunity to steal Sara’s last carrot. Just because she could.

                                                              *

It was rare that Runner Five got a lie-in. It was rarerstill that they actually got to enjoy one when the opportunity rolled around.

Sleeping in the runners’ block had its perks, not least ofwhich was that many of Five’s precious people lived in the same building. Italso had its downsides. One of which was the noise. Come six or seven in themorning people started dragging themselves out to chase the dawn. It was goodetiquette to keep noise to a minimum if you had to head out early but there wassomething about the sound of people moving around in the same building thatrefused to let Five sleep. Instinct, probably, from her time before Abel. Safewalls meant nothing to her when her eyes were shut.

By seven thirty or so the morning after the slightmisadventure of her last run, Five was tired of lying in her room and watchingthe patterns her eyes made on the ceiling. She fully intended to enjoy her restday, but the last months had left her ill suited to staying still for longperiods without purpose. It didn’t help that everywhere around her there weresounds of movement, of readiness.

It took only a little exercise of willpower to leave thewarmth of her bed and get dressed for the day ahead. Runner Five already knewwhere she was headed that day so she pulled on one of her lesser-loved tops andsome thick, worn jeans that were a little too big around the knees where thecotton was frayed almost to splitting.

Outside the door, boots tied tight, Five took a moment tobreathe in the new day. Even though the sun had only recently risen, she couldfeel what it was going to be like in the first rays that warmed her face. Theair was cold still with leftover winter, but spring had sunk in its roots. Thesun was bright, glinting off the armoury’s razor wire as for the first time ina week it wasn’t raining. Pulling on the hoodie she had pinched from Sam lastBonfire Night (and he hadn’t asked for her to return yet), Five strode awayfrom the runner’s rooms and towards the farm.

While Janine always insisted there was no shortage of workto do, there was no obligation for the runners to work on their rest days. Not,after all, when they were such a precious resource. However, Five felt spendingtime on the farm wasn’t work in the true sense of the word. It was physical,sure, and the list of to-dos always outstripped the list of done-thats. It wasdirty and demanding and sometimes frustrating. There was joy in it, though. Inturning over the soil and seeing your hard work flower.

There was victory and bitter triumph in cutting down azombie (or sometimes something less dead but just as rotten) but little joy. Vindication,but none of the light feeling Five got in her chest as she ran her fingers overthe smooth-worn handle of a pitchfork stuck in the soil.

The gardens were quiet, mostly, that day. Not far off therewere people wrangling the goats for milking and chatter from the greenhouses,but there was no one out in the beds where Five came to a stop.

Little had changed since she had last been there. In winter notmuch grew, and that which did had been planted months before. The majority ofwork for the farmers focused on the upkeep of the animals, the crops they couldgrow in the hothouses, and protecting their stocks. It especially wouldn’t doto have another attack of potato rot.

Where Five had stopped to look over the farm was especiallybarren. The outdoor beds were all empty, except where they were littered withthe slowly decaying greenery of the last harvest and a singular bed of leeks.It was her favourite place in Abel, when it wasn’t so dead.

From a little way’s away someone called and Runner Five’shead snapped up, eyes searching. It was one of the farmers, waving to her from theentrance to one of the greenhouses. It was someone Five had worked and talkedwith before, Oliver, if she remembered correctly. He had worked in a bank once,Five knew. Something lowly he didn’t miss as much as he missed the allotmenthe’d kept with his father, so when he’d come to Abel he’d been put to work growingthe Township’s veg supply. It should have been strange to see someone taken tothe end of the world so well. It was, surprisingly, not so unusual. Five knewbetter than most there were still things you could find when you had losteverything else.

“Heya! Hey there, Runner Five, you here to help us today?”Five nodded, gesturing to her soil-stained jeans. “Of course, excellent! Thanksfor coming along, now, we’ve got a lot to do so you’ve got some options, if youwant me to go through them?”

She does, but she already knows what she will end up doing.There’s something about working out in the garden. This far from Abel’sboundaries with the tents and housing blocks on one side and the animalenclosures on the other everything is muffled, only the occasional groan floatsby on the wind. It’s quiet, yet still outdoors. Almost like before. When Fiveputs her head down to work she can’t even see the walls.

                                                             *

It was maybe three or four hours later, the sun high inearnest, when Sam came to find Five where she was perched on the edge of one ofthe raised beds.

Behind her the soil was churned up and ready for compostingand planting before the next bout of rain came to undo all her work. Severalother beds stood similarly overturned, with the withered remains of the lastcrop piled upon the paving slabs.

His footsteps alerted Five to his approach and she lookedaway from the little bird she had been watching to wave. It was always good tosee him, but it was a different sort of good to see him when they were offduty. When they weren’t operator and runner but friends. It reassured her toknow that she wasn’t just work to him. The thought fed the warm feeling nestledunder her ribcage, and the warmth in her cheeks.

“Five, hey there!” Sam half jogs over to her. “Fancy seeingyou here, Five, I was just out for a walk. Stretching my legs. Getting some air.Air I haven’t already breathed five times today, you know?” Five laughed, shedid know, and she also knew that Sam’s walks always happened to pass the gardens,and pass them again if he didn’t see her there the first time. She brushed somesoil of the plank next to her and gestured for him to sit.

“Ah, thanks, Five. I can’t believe you’re out here on yourday off, I mean, it’s a nice day, I guess. But if I’d had a day like you hadyesterday I’d want a week off. A day in bed at least.” He said as he sat downnext to Five and stretched out his legs across the path. His jeans were alittle less worn than hers. Fewer holes.

“This is restful,” Five said, and Sam snorted, pointedlylooking around at the tilled soil. “And it’s not like Sara’s resting.”

Sam frowned. “You know, you’re right. She’s running decoythis morning, actually. I’m not sure how she gets away with being out as muchas she is. I used to wonder if she was blackmailing Janine or something but,well. I’m pretty sure Janine doesn’t feel fear.”

“Would you want to try to keep Sara still?”

“Good point, yeah, no.” Sam laughed softly and they lapsedinto a peaceful quiet. It was easy to be quiet around Sam, if only because hegenerally talked for the both of them.

Even surrounded by their friends, Five’s words wouldn’t comequite right, and the worse they came out the less she wanted to speak. Here,with Sam, it was a little better.

“So,” Sam drawled, unable to keep a silence for very long.“Gardening?”

“Yes.” Five turned a little where she sat so Sam could seeher raised eyebrow. “We are, you see, in the garden.”

Sam sputtered. “Well, yes. It’s just that I meant to askwhy.” Sam paused, then realised he hadn’t really elaborated at all. “I was justcurious. You’re a runner, so you don’t have to do anything on your off days.And if you want to there are choices.Like helping Maxine, or gun maintenance. I thought something like that might bemore your thing, considering you came from Mullins. On my days off I at leastlike to savour being clean.” He gestured to her, with her muddied jeans and thedirt caked thick under her nails.

Sometimes Runner Five wondered if Sam would recognise her ifshe wasn’t covered in sweat and dirt. With tidier hair and civilian clothesthat weren’t mismatched and full of holes. The her from before the end andbefore Mullins.

“I miss it,” Five said, rubbing at a smear on her arm andmaking it worse. “I’ve always loved gardening, and now it’s good to dosomething that’s not killing. Or running from being killed.”

There was a moment of quiet and Five glanced to her left tosee Sam staring at her, eyes a little wide, and she realised she’d made themoment serious. Was this a moment? If they were having a moment, she was afraidshe was ruining it.

“Or, whatever. It’s just nice. Nice to see something grow.It’s rewarding.”

“Huh.” Sam huffed, and his face coloured at something shehad said. He turned to look over the empty and dead beds that currentlydominated the area they sat in. “I can’t relate, I don’t think I’ve ever keptanything alive longer than a week.”

“You’ve kept me alive.”

“That’s different.”

“I’m sure you’re not that bad.”

“Five,” Sam reached over to grip Five by her shoulders and stareintently into her eyes. “Once my roommate asked me to look after their bonsaitree and it started losing its leaves before they’d even left the dorm. It wasolder than I was and I killed it without even doing anything.” Five snickeredinto her hand, but Sam wasn’t done. He leaned in closer and whispered, eyeshaunted. “Five. I once killed a cactus.”

“No!”

“Yes. I can’t be trusted with plants, Five. I’m a killer.”

At this Five couldn’t help but laugh properly, and Sam lether go as she toppled back to lean onto her hands. In between her fingers thesoil was cold and gritty and good. The light feeling she’d been floating on allday surged in her chest and if her boots weren’t so heavy she might havefloated away right then.

“So now you know. My dark secret.”

“I think you’re being a quitter. I think we should find youa little green friend for the comms shack.”

“Five, no, that is an objectively terrible idea.”

“Hmm, I think it’s good. We could get you, hm. Let me think.”

“Five, no.”

“What do you think about some herbs? Or a little tomatoplant? The kitchen would be happy to have some basil.”

“I think you’re not listening to me, Five.”

“Or, oh, what if I find you a little tree on my next run?You can look after it, to make up for your sins.”

Sam sighed. “Honestly, I think whatever ship carried mygreen finger has sailed. I’ll stick to the things I’m good at.”

“You’re good at a lot of things,” Five shrugged, eyestracing the fuzzy corners of clouds. “Important things.”

Sam didn’t reply immediately, but Five could feel his gazeon the side of her face as he thought about what she’d said. It had been meantcasually, but Five remembered the things Sam had said that night she had beenstranded, thought dead. Things about how much of a failure he had been. How hemight miss his parents, but at least if they were dead they’d never know howmuch of a disappointment he was.

Not for the first time, Five wondered what the runners meantto Sam. What she meant to him, as a runner, as a friend, as his latest Five.

The weight of Sam’s head dropped against Five’s shoulder andshe started out of her thoughts. Sam was no longer watching her but had alsoturned his eyes to the sky and the little clouds drifting past. Five had neverseen Sam wearing glasses so she supposed he saw a different version of the skythan she did, but the blue was couldn’t have been any less bright, or the sunany less sweet.

It was a short while later that Janine rounded the corner ofone of the greenhouses and Sam jumped up, remembering suddenly he was taking awalk and should really get back to doing that. Immediately.

-

It was only the next day when Sam trudged into the commsshack shortly after the sun was up, harried on by an urgent mission, that hefound the thing Five had left for him. With eyes still bleary from sleep he hadalmost missed it.

On the far corner of his desk, atop a stack of dissected PCtowers and beneath the shack’s singular window, was a terracotta pot. Only alittle chipped around the edges, from it sprung a bright huddle of daffodils.They were the brightest thing in the room, so much so Sam had to pause to blinkat them. Yellow, vibrant, like yesterday’s sunshine, and orange the same as thejumper he still hadn’t asked Runner Five to return.

They sat there for the whole of that spring, and Sam evenremembered to water them.

[notforconsumption]

For the prompt thing: How would Abel treat your Five on her birthday?

This is such a genuinely sweet prompt and since I’m in late Season 3 I almost went very dark with it but then…

This fluffy thing happened. There’s a little bit of angst but it’s mainly sickly sweet domestic nonsense. I’m sorry it took so long to respond to this, life happened, then it kept happening. What a nuisance, right? Real life, ugh.

(Also, for the record, when I said my Five is an arsehole, this is kind of what I mean.)

It was raining over Abel Township, a heavy, constant rainwhich had been there all day and showed no signs of stopping.  It being an English November, this wasn’texactly unusual.

Sometimes they had dry Novembers, with crispy leaves slowlygiving way to sweet rot, but this was not that kind of November. It had beenraining when Runner Five had woken up that morning, it had been raining whenthey’d gone out for their decoy run, their supply run, their liaison with NewCanton. And it was raining now, still heavy, still constant.

It was almost enough to make Runner Five feel sorry forEugene and the couple of other Abel residents who had originally come fromoverseas. When people described England as ‘wet’ they didn’t always explainproperly, she thought. Saying that a place saw a lot of rain didn’t prepare aperson for this. Not for the solid weeks of downpours interspersed with periodsof light, cloying drizzle. Not for the burst riverbanks or mud splashing overyour wellies.

But she didn’t. Feel sorry, that is, for anyone.

Despite how the water seeped into trainers and sometimes gavethe runners horrible blisters, Runner Five loved it. The feel of the rain onher bare shoulders, in the tangles of her hair, running down her face then downher neck. It was cold and so very clean. One of the few things that hadn’tchanged.

On this day, a couple of years ago, there had been a massivestorm over where Five had lived at the time. No warning, no trace of it in theforecast. Just sudden, heavy clouds that fell into the dip her town sat in onthe coast to unload an orchestra of thunder and pounding rain and forklightening.

Five remembered laughing that day, hysterically, almost. Shewasn’t laughing now but nor could she control the silly smile on her face.

She had made it through the day without anything going wrong.It was near enough a miracle, given her track record of birthdays.

They tended to start off well, and then go horribly wrong asif to mock her for daring to enjoy the day. Sometimes they began badly and onlygot worse as the hours ticked by.

Come the end of the world, no one knew her birth date anymore, so Five had allowed it to slip away from her, uncelebrated, unacknowledged.Sam had asked, once, and Five had shrugged. He hadn’t pressed. There were somethings now that people wouldn’t pursue. They were all far more aware of eachother’s open wounds than they used to be, which worked just fine for Five.There was already enough attention on her as it was these days.

The sound of someone striding through the deep puddle that hadgathered on the quad, the ground too saturated to absorb any more, ousted Fivefrom her thoughts. She opened her eyes and blinked the rain out of them.

“Runner Five, is that you?” Even through the rain, Janine’s voicewas clear and clipped. She was dressed for the weather, decked out in longwellington boots and a leather bushman hat atop a heavy raincoat. It made her silhouettesolid against the slanted rain, unlike Five who stood barefoot in her just her runningshorts and vest top. “You look like a drowned rat.”

“Thanks, Janine. You look like a sensible and well-dressed individual.”Five replied, turning around to face her and splashing more than necessary,just because she could.

“Um,” Janine started, thrown off. “Yes, well, the last thingwe need is one of our runners coming down with pneumonia so I have been sent tocollect you.”

“I don’t get sick,” Five said and she wasn’t exactly lying. “Wait,someone sent you?”

“Yes,” Janine sighed, casting unsubtle glances back at thefarmhouse.

“No one sends you, you send people.” Five said and the peaceof the evening began to wane from her mind. If it was something serious enoughto force Janine out into the rain it was probably unpleasant.

“Sara requested that I retrieve you,” Janine said. She crossed her arms with a squeak of wet fabric. “And Iagreed that I would have been in remiss of my duties as leader of the Township hadI allowed you to carry on with whatever it is you are doing. And you canexplain what you were in fact doing on the way to the house.”

The tension that was climbing up Five’s throat receded. IfSara was involved this increased the likelihood that nothing was wrong or, ifit was, then at least Five wouldn’t be facing it alone. That was the true calamity.“I was standing about,” she said, starting off towards the house. “I thoughtthat was kind of obvious.”

“Five.” Janine ground out in what some of the runners likedto quietly call her ‘authority voice’ as she fell into step beside Five.

“I was just enjoying the rain, Janine.”

“If I’m not mistaken it’s no higher than two degrees out,Five. I’m not sure there’s much enjoyable about this.”

“It’s relaxing.”

“It’s awful.”

Five threw her hands up, flicking water into the air. “Janine,you can genuinely find it within yourself to play FIFA, and even enjoy it. I’mnot sure you’re allowed to talk about awful.”

“Video games are, by definition, supposed to be enjoyable.”

“So are romcoms, and yet they remain the worst thing to everhave existed. Any yes, before you ask, I am including zombies in this analogy.”

“You have a point,” Janine said after a pause that was a fewseconds too long not to be suspicious. Five peered up into her face, eyesquesting for some kind of tell. Janine stared forward, her focus fixed on the glowfrom the farmhouse’s windows.

“Oh my God. Oh my entire God,” Five laughed and skipped forwardso she could walk backwards, facing Janine. “You like romcoms. Janine De Luca, fearlessleader of Abel Township, enjoys horrible, cringeworthy romcoms.”

Janine’s face turned thunderous and Five couldn’t help her snickering,imagining Janine curled up in a pair of fluffy slippers and a bath robe,sobbing into a bowl of popcorn at the predictable climax of a big-name,low-effort chick flick. Her laughter lasted until her back hit the door to thehouse and Janine closed in on her, looming over Five with her broad rimmed hat blockingout all else.

Behind tangled strands of hair, Five looked up into thetight-lipped, stony expression of one of the most dangerous women she knew. Theintimidation lasted until Five’s imagination conjured up the image of Janine devouringicecream straight from the tub as she watched some housewife heartthrob beg hissweetheart to take him back.

She could barely stifle giggles trying to bubble up.

“Listen,” Janine started, and whether she was about to denyor threaten Five wasn’t sure, but then the door opened behind Five and she stumbledbackwards into the dry, airy boot room of the farmhouse. Someone caught her bythe shoulders and whirled her around, the heat and light and movement dizzying.

“Five’s here!” Evan called over his shoulder, towards thekitchen, where someone repeated his message and the quiet murmur of conversationrose to a chatter. “God,” he said, running his hands down to Five’s elbows. “Yourskin is like ice, what were you doing, going for a dip in the pond?”

“Nah,” Five smiled from under the mess of her fringe. “I only go skinny-dipping on Tuesdays.”

Evan sighed and stepped back, dropping a towel over Five’shead that he’d apparently been carrying for just this purpose. Strong hands,Janine’s, Five realised, rubbed the towel over her head quickly and efficientlywiping away the worst of the water. What Five had told Janine was true, she wasenjoying the rain, but being suddenly in the warm had made her realise how thecold had snuck into her bones. Her skin was so pale it was practicallytranslucent in the electric lighting, blue veins stark as if they were drawn onto her with marker.

“Here.” Evan said when Janine deemed Five dry enough to passinto her home, holding out the jumper he’d been wearing a moment ago.

“Are you sure?” Five asked, humour dampened suddenly. Shewanted to take it and maybe not give it back, but didn’t want for it to begiven unwillingly. Or out of some sense of duty. Whether that was as Head of Runners,or because someone knew what today was and Evan felt pressured. Birthdays didthat to people.

“Five, your lips are blue. I’m far more attached to you,still breathing, than I am this jumper.”

“You might not want to say that in front of Runner Four,” Janineremarked as she passed them and vanished into the house, pushing the damp towelinto Five’s arms as she passed. “It took her a while to repair all those holes.”

“Then, thanks,” Five said, taking the jumper carefully as ifit would break should she drop it. There was a running joke amongst part ofAbel about Five’s propensity to wear (and steal) other people’s clothes, butshe never took without knowing the owner was actually comfortable with her borrowingways. Even if they didn’t see it the same way, to Five it wasn’t just clothing. It was personal, something she approached with caution when it was someonenaturally reticent and private, like Evan.

Turning her back on Evan, Five wiggled out of her soaked topand wrung it out over the doormat before hanging it up on a coat hook to beretrieved later. She briefly considered taking off her soaked bra, but thatmight have come off a bit weird. Not to mention that the jumper was woollen andFive did not need that level of discomfort in her life.

Scratchiness aside, it was warm from body heat and wonderfullydry when Five pulled it on. She remembered anew, as she always did, how thesecond-best part of rainy days was getting warm afterwards.

When Five turned back, Evan had put a hand over his eyes outof some peculiar respect for her modesty. Peculiar, because on various occasionspost-runs they’d showered in the same containment block with only a thin partitionseparating the halves of the building.

“Done,” she announced, waving with one sleeve-engulfed hand.Comfy as it was, the sweater was made for someone Evan’s size. That was,someone about twice Five’s size.

Evan removed his hand and scanned her briefly. With such animpassive face it was impossible to tell whether she’d annoyed him or not. Fivedecided to believe ‘not’ until otherwise proven since he hadn’t actuallycomplained.

“I know it’s a bit large, but it’ll do until you warm up.Come on through, everyone’s in the kitchen.”

“Everyone?” Five asked, following him through the corridor.Her stomach dropped. This was obviously not an urgent situation butsome kind of social occasion. Five just hoped it had nothing to do with her,not on this day. Any good was always followed with so much more bad.

“Mhmm,” Evan agreed unhelpfully, and then they were throughthe heavy oak door and in the kitchen’s stifling heat.

As they entered Five saw Janine, attempting to oust Sam fromthe carver chair that was her favourite, and Sam, holding his ground the besthe could under her glower. At the table also sat Jody, hands working away atsomething as they so often were, and Maxine who watched her with a mug claspedbetween her hands and sleepy eyes.

At the huge stove there was a general clattering as Sara beatsomething fiercely in a large ceramic bowl and to her right Simon, someone Fivenever expected anyone to let near the antique cooker, was ladling somethingfragrant and steaming into a chipped mug.

“Five!” He called, brushing past Sara to push the mug intoher hands. “There you are. We were starting to worry you’d been washed away.Gone to the great puddle in the sky.”

“No, well.” Five shrugged and the jumper slipped down one ofher shoulders. “Not yet I haven’t. Give it time.” Simon grinned and flickedsome of Five’s fringe out of her face.

“Come sit down, Five.” Sam called from the table gesturingto the empty seat to his left, ignoring Janine’s sour stare as he continued tooccupy her chair.

“What’s the occasion?” Five asked as she manoeuvred her wayaround the table, careful not to spill her drink. It was something that smeltsuspiciously similar to a hot toddy and therefore was too precious to waste. Samsmiled genuinely at her as she sat, but Five saw concern in his face, too. Forher generally dishevelled condition, or for other reasons?

It could have been just paranoia, but if so it was justifiedparanoia. Over the years correlation had resolved itself into something thatfelt too much like causation and Five was not in the market for anothercalamity any time soon.

She had good reason to keep this date unmarked anduncelebrated.

“No occasion,” Sara said as she poured some of the battershe had been making into a hot pan with a sizzle. “We just thought, well, it’sbeen a week of rain so everybody’s feeling a bit dour. Then, on my run today Ifound a few things I haven’t seen since the early days of the outbreak. Thoughtwe could all do with some downtime.”

“The grog was my idea,” Simon said as he flopped into thechair opposite Five and Sam, leaning as far as he could across the tablewithout crawling onto it. “I’m not sure it’s proper grog without cinnamon, butI think you’ll find I’ve done a pretty bang-up job. Even if I do say so myself.”

“It’s not like we have much in the way of options,” Evansighed as he slid into the chair between Jody and Five. “Especially not withall the strong stuff vanishing straight into the hospital.”

“Hey,” Maxine perked up from where she was half dozing overher mug. “Those are vital medical supplies. I didn’t hear you complaining when Istitched up that gash in your arm last week.”

“No, no, I’m very grateful. It just seems like a lot,especially since it’s not everyday someone has a run in with a zombie wrappedin razor wire.” Evan rested his forearms on the table and Five glanced overthem, having not noticed a cut of any kind before. His shirt sleeves obscured anywound, but five did note his empty hands. He was the only one at the table withouta mug of something spiked and steaming. It was, Five supposed, the price ofcriticising Simon’s brewing skills.

Or just the price of being Evan around Simon. She wasn’tsure what Simon’s issue was there, but she supposed it was equally possibleEvan just wasn’t drinking. Five wasn’t about to make it awkward by asking.

“Yeah, and didn’t Five and Sara find eight bottles of whiskeythe other day? Really nice, old stuff.” Jody chimed in.

“Would have been worth a fortune,” Sara said without turningaround, still working at the stove. “If money still meant anything.”

“Eight?” Maxine asked, looking a little more awake all of asudden. “I’m pretty sure it was only five bottles they found.” She frowned and,seeing as Sara’s back was to her, she focused on Runner Five who was suddenlyvery invested in the swirling mist of her grog.

“Um,” said Jody. Her knitting slowed to a near stop.

“Five? Were there eight bottles? What happened to the otherthree?” Maxine asked. All of her drowsiness had vanished as if blown away by aquick breeze. Five wondered if it was too late to go back out into the rain.

A clatter of crockery saved her as Sara deposited a stack ofplates on the table in front of Maxine and dumped a handful of cutlery in thecentre of the table.

“Be a dear and pass those around, would you,” she said as shepicked up the large serving plate she’d set beside the stove and brandished afish slice. “Pancakes are ready.”

“Pancakes?” Five sat up ramrod straight and felt the anxietyshe had been dousing with grog be completely turned over by hunger. The hungerfor pancakes, as everyone knew, trumped all else.

Sara laughed as she doled out thin, crispy miracles onto theplates Maxine was passing around to those at the table. “While I was rootingthrough an abandoned shelter I found a few cartons of almond milk which, luckyfor us, doesn’t ever really go off. The chickens are laying well, and what elseshould I find in my search but this.” Sara held up a small green bottle with ayellow cap and Five’s heart jumped.

“Sara,” she said and could not find it within herself to feelthe least bit embarrassed by the near-religious reverence in her voice over asmall bottle of lemon juice. “You are the light of my life.”

Winking, Sara turned back to the stove to put on another batchand from there the evening lulled into a comfortable rhythm of sticky sweetnessand laughter. At one point Sam got up to refill everyone’s cups and Janinestole back her chair while pretending not to be smug about it at all, and as ifshe hadn’t been waiting over an hour to do just that.

The spell remained unbroken throughout. No one mentionedanything about birthdays, though Five was sure Sara knew, or knew something wasup at least. There was little of substance Five could keep secret from her, butshe had her own tells. A particular way she smiled when she knew something sheshouldn’t, for instance.

Evidenced perfectly by the warm smirk she was currentlywearing as she bustled around, as at home here as when she was crushing heads.

But she didn’t say anything. Not when she joined them at thetable, defending the virtues of banana pancakes against the united front ofJody, Five, and Simon. Not when she straightened Five’s slipping neckline andmussed her hair to say goodnight before slipping out into the rain.

She never said anything and Five didn’t cry, but she almostwanted to. Midnight came and nothing was ruined. There was no cliff at the endof this incline.

When Five curled up to sleep on one of Janine’s sofas thatnight, wedged between Simon and Jody, she did so still in Evan’s jumper. Shereasoned she wasn’t invoking birthday privileges, not really. Not if she didn’tgive it back the next day, either.

(She didn’t.)

[notforconsumption]

A reunion, of sorts. 

Complete with friendly violence and deeply conflicted loyalties.

[notforconsumption]

Runner Five has had more uncomfortable conversations in her life, but at least one of those was with a cannibal so they probably don’t count.

Simon, for his part, does his best to make it worse.

[notforconsumption]

Features musings on the nature of ridiculous murder gangs and a timely downpour.

Five uses the opportunity to get ahead.

[notforconsumption]

Third chapter because I haven’t the requisite self-control to wait a few days to post it like I ought to. 

In which Runner Five says goodbye and it’s just about the hardest thing she’s had to do.

[notforconsumption]

Second chapter, and things begin to go horribly wrong as the story gets going.

[notforconsumption]

This chapter is mostly suffering, and it’s mostly Five’s.

Someone dies. It’s not the runner, not this time.

[notforconsumption]

Bruises and Bitemarks

Chapter 1

Characters: Runner Five, Simon/Runner 3, a bit of Sam, a bit of Veronica Rating: General audiences (for now) Warnings: Some violence (the zombie kind) Massive spoilers for Season 2 and the first half of Season 3

Life is direly unfair sometimes, and Five knows this better than anyone. Life takes it a little far, however, when Five finds herself mortally injured far from home, and further from any reliable source of help.

In a pinch, she supposes Simon will have to do. 

The trial had been going better than expected, which should have alerted Five to the fact that death was imminent. Nothing ever seemed to go smoothly anymore, not where it counted. And getting into that Comansys lab, finding the missing people from Abel? That ranked pretty highly on Five’s list of Things That Counted.

The spray Veronica had synthesised from various undead bodily fluids and the peculiar vines had been keeping the undead from tearing them apart so far, but it only lasted so long and they were running out of decoys. Another of the collared zombies fell under the teeth of its fellows and Five was no longer sure which way through the hoard was out. Neither she nor Veronica were tall enough to see above the heads of the shambling bodies and they’d gotten turned around while messing about, celebrating the feeling of freedom Veronica’s success brought.

Sam wasn’t seeing any easy route out for them either, calling out commands only to redact them, cursing himself, the zombies, the situation. He was no longer in control, and the hysteria in his voice made it painfully clear that he knew this. Runner Five was, once again, in mortal peril. It would almost be just another Tuesday if only there weren’t so many of the things.

Five and Veronica were on their own, and the zombies were beginning to take notice. All sixty, eighty, hundred or more of them.

“I think, Runner Five, I think we’ve run out of time. The spray,” Veronica swallowed down the crack in her voice. “The spray only has a limited effect and we’ve been running, raising our body temperature. Burning it off more quickly.” Her eyes flickered frantically, her lips moving as she ran through and dismissed all the ways she could think to fix this under her breath.

“Go,” Five signed, tapping Veronica on the arm. “Go, you have to run.”

“I’m not going to just run blindly through the hoard! This is my stupid mistake, we can fix this.”

“What?” Sam called over the radio, interrupting his own frantic, half-aborted plans of guiding them out of the steadily amassing throng of undead bodies. “No, no you’ll both be fine! We just need, God, we just need a clear route out. Or a distraction. But there’s no one near you, God. Stay put, I’ll try to raze Runners Four and Sixteen.”

With a crackle of static, Sam was gone. It was just the two of them, and there were undead eyes beginning to fix on them.

“Do you have any more,” Five signed, then frantically tapped at her neck. They’d lost sight of the last decoy zombie a minute ago and if Sam couldn’t magic up a distraction they’d have to make their own.

“The collars? But we might attract even more of them. The woods might be surrounded.”

Five pointedly looked around them at the hundred or so zombies that were already surrounding the two of them, then back at Veronica. “Rather be eaten now than later?”

“I suppose that’s a good point,” Veronica conceded, her mouth twisting in displeasure as she began to root around in her bag for one of the controls she hadn’t already used. “I must have at least one left, I didn’t set them all off, I know I didn’t.”

Five side-stepped a swaying, one-and-a-half legged shambler and sidled closer to Veronica, putting her back to her. Her right hand loosened her axe from its snug hold on the side of her pack, her left rested on the butt of her gun. She took a moment in the eye of the storm to reflect on how she used to genuinely enjoy science, in the time before. Before zombies, before ‘science’ ceased to mean reading issues of National Geographic and instead morphed into having experiments performed on her in various unpleasant ways.

At least in this instance, Five reflected, she wasn’t handcuffed to anything. She would have the full, free use of her limbs while being torn apart by the rotten mouths of the undead.

Her headset buzzed. “Nothing yet, sorry guys, I’m working on it! Runner Sixteen is too far away and Jodie is having her own undead problems. But don’t worry, we’ll figure something out, we’ll get out of there-”

“Yes! I knew I had one left!” Veronica spoke over Sam, holding up the small remote triumphantly, and pressing the button. Above the sound of the constant moans and dragging footsteps, they heard nothing. No small bang of the release mechanism, no ‘poof’ of released pheromones. “What?” Veronica pressed the button again, but the little light on the remote remained green instead of turning red like the others had.

Five tilted her head, and raised her hand from her axe to sign “What?”

“It can’t not be working, that’s absurd.” Veronica said, pointing the remote off into the crowd and trying it again. And then again, swinging her hand around thirty degrees, still nothing. And again. And again, only this time her hand was caught by another and the zombie that was probably once an accountant moaned loudly, sinking chipped nails into Veronica’s forearm as it reared forward, mouth wide.

Veronica shrieked, and her hand flailed for something, anything, to hit the zombie away and Runner Five didn’t think. There was just the zombie and the girl and then there was Runner Five between them, bashing its head away with an elbow strike to the temple. Then she hit it again, forcing its head away from Veronica until it refocused on Five and reached for her instead, and the second it gave was what Five needed to draw her gun and shoot the thing straight through the eye.

For a blessed second there was silence, then the moaning began anew, a cacophonous warbling and gargling as the hoard turned inward, seeking prey.

“Oh God, Five,” Sam began, but didn’t manage to finish, as then everything started to move far too quickly.

Five gripped Veronica by the shoulder and wheeled her around, pushing her forward. “Go go go,” Five signed, pointing where there were glimpses of green occasionally between the bodies. Stumbling from the shove, Veronica found her feet in a run and kept going, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Go where? Go where, Five, is this your plan? Run and hope for the best?” Veronica glanced to her left to see Five’s answer, then the right. “Five?” She looked back over her shoulder and caught the runner’s eyes for a moment before the noisemaker began to wail and the zombies closed the space between them.

“Sam! Sam, what is she doing?” Veronica called, but all that answered was the moans of the dead and the realisation that their only headset had been left with Runner Five. Veronica was on her own, and all she had was Five’s last order. Go. So Veronica ran, away from where Five had stood with her axe and her gun, and towards where the field opened in front of her. The dead shambled past, turning towards the sound of gunfire and the noisemaker, and towards the most human-smelling thing left in the field.

Veronica ran, back past the cages they had released the zombies from, back to the safety of the vine-tangled woods where she finally turned around. From the trees above the field she watched the hoard seethe and ebb around a central point, where there were too many of them to tell what was happening or what they were doing. But whatever it was, she didn’t see Five come out, and she heard no more gunshots.