I hit the call back button. It went straight to voicemail. By this point, I gasped for breath. I dialed my brother, Ben. Another voicemail. I didn't bother checking the messages from Sarge. I dialed him instead. "Collins. You're alive."

Four years later...

A tap sounds at my door. "Go away! I'm sleeping!" I snap the lie because at least I'm trying to. It's in the middle of the night for fuck's sake. The door opens, which only pisses me off more. "What?"

Guido's disgusting form darkens the doorway. He stands sideways and his chest glitters from all the gold he wears there. "Git up Mac boy. Git yer little bag of goodies. I need yer services."

"For what? Unless someone is dying, it can wait till tomorrow." The only person I'd get up in the middle of the night for isn't here. My best friend is on his own death wish mission.

"Might be too late, see? Purty boy done brought back some dame. She's sick. Infection." He wrinkles his nose. "Nasty cut. Yew should see it."

Pretty boy. He's talking about Rudy. I sit up and try not to show how relieved I am the bastard is still alive. I'm trying not to think of the implications of how he got to Julie, let alone get her out. I'm assuming it's her that's sick. "She's not going to turn, is she?"

He shakes his head. "She wrecked 'er car. Didn't know she had a gash on 'er head. Now, she all feverish. She could heat the place up."

"Fine."

After putting on a T-shirt and straightening my dog tags underneath it, I slip on my boots and tie them quickly. My medicine bag is already by the door when I pick it up and glance at my bed. No need to make it, I'll be right back.

He takes me to the women's dormitory of the community he's been building on for around three years. The room I walk into automatically makes me want a tetanus shot. It smells like someone had a sex marathon in a puddle of vomit. The chick on the bare mattress catches my attention. The heat on her face emanates to my skin before I touch it. Flushed with fever hell... she needs pain reliever and IV antibiotics. I sigh, I have a lot of work to do. "Where's Rudy?"

Guido smiles and shows his need for dental hygiene. "Gettin' me some dead 'ems."

I repress the urge to look revolted. This cockroach and I have a very loose, uneasy truce. Keeping my mouth shut on his extra curricular activities with zombies is important. "This isn't Julie." I state.

Guido's eyes draw together. "Who's Julie? Chickie is Kan, purty boy told me. Don't want nothin' happenin' to 'er. Won't be happy he said."

I bend down in front of her. No, she is not Julie. The complete opposite, really. Who is this girl? The position she's in on the bed causes her T-shirt to stretch across her chest. Nicely rounded-a little more than a handful, I'd bet money on it.

Guido interrupts my prognosis. "You gonna help her or keep staring at her? Yew boy is paying me good to nurse her sweet ass back to health."

"Shut up and get out." I wave my hand towards the general direction of the door.

When the door closes behind him, I glance at a huge pack at the end of the bed. First things first, I search for the gash. It looks like it's been cleaned recently, but puffs around the edges in an angry red. The gash itself is raw and bleeds a bit. Her body trembles when I feel it. Her flushed cheeks round into a heart-shaped face. Breaths come out of her in soft pants. The biggest problem is her dread locks. They're crusted over with blood around the gash. They soak it up like sponges. She trembles again, giving me a show down her V-neck shirt.

"Better be glad you have nice cleavage going on, or I'd shave these fuckers off."

I reach for my bag as she responds. "I have to put the fire out." Drowsiness thickens her voice. "It will draw zombies while I sleep." Her eyes open to look at me. They are light surrounded by thick lashes. Nice.

She tries to get up, but I gently push her back down. "I'll put your fire out." I say, only half joking. After giving her a little dose of fever reducer in her arm, I begin setting up an IV of antibiotics and look back at her to find her still looking at me.

She smiles, touching my face with surprisingly rough fingertips. "I miss the beach." She says as her eyes drift closed.

I blink at her sickness-induced conversation and inject some heavy narcotic for any pain she might have, which I should try and ask her about, but all I can mange is, "The beach?" Didn't we all?

Her eyes pop open and she shakes her head a little. "Your eyes, dumbass. They remind me of the beach."

"Think I'm handsome, do you?" That'd be no less than awesome.

"Maybe." Too bad the medication makes its way through her system. She passes out on me.

As I clean her wound and rinse her hair of encrusted blood, I study the rest of her. Her boots are caked with dirt, dried blood and famished debris. Lean and cut with feminine muscle, her arms have thin threads of scabs all over them. I swallow, taking in the rest of her.

I suture the gash closed not really paying attention to it. She needs clean sheets on the bed. I have half of mind to take her to my room, but think better of it. I don't know her, and her sweet face isn't enough to convince me she isn't crazy. You have to be to have survived this long. Not to mention, the very familiar bandana tied around her dreads.

I run to my room to use an iron to sterilize sheets. When I get back, I have to lay her in the floor while I put them on the bed. She's not all muscle but soft in the right places. When I put her onto the clean sheets her face falls toward me. Her lips are parted as a thick thread of drool drips from the corner of her mouth onto the sheet. I laugh, but after all the medication I've pumped into her she doesn't respond.

I go to the end of the bed, picking up the pack. Underneath it sits a pistol crossbow. There was an arrow in it ready to be shot. They are store bought and look as old as everything else she has. The pack has a double-sided axe and a machete hanging from it. They both look worn from use. Where the hell did Rudy find this girl?

I'm almost reluctant to see what else this girl has, but I have to find out. I dig through it, coming up with canned food, clothing and at the very bottom, a laptop. I almost dismiss it as a means for pictures and home movies from before the outbreak, but the massive amounts of different cables give me pause. Why would she have these? I open the laptop and power it up. A strange screen pops up. A strange logo stares at me, waiting for a command. It tells me to push escape for the operating system. I expect the desktop to be a picture, but it's a plain blue with dozens of unrecognizable icons.

When I open one, an intricate line of babble looks back at me. Upon opening the other ones more babble I don't understand, but I know enough to know this isn't an ordinary laptop. The question is, what should I do with it?

I look to Kan still sleeping and hardly looking like a computer geek, but the best ones don't look nerdy nor do they speak of what they can do. If I turn her in, she'll be thrust into doing whatever they want from her. My stomach drops at this thought, especially since she's the perfect candidate they're looking for. I can always just turn in her name as alive and active. Nothing else, but what if she has something against her? Am I willing to take that chance before getting to know more about her? And what the fuck is it anyway? I usually wouldn't have a problem turning this in, but I never thought I'd come across the likely person. Especially considering the morons that surround me on a daily basis.

I'll wait and find out as much as I can before I come to a decision. After powering the laptop down, I stuff it back into her bag. So Rudy doesn't want anything happening to her. Knowing the fucker's standoffish quirk and attitude against women in general, she must be something special. I can't wait to find out what it is.

Sitting at the bar in the Clap Trap, I'm taking in all the empty cages and beams. It seems Guido is pretty desperate for famished. It's still warm out, so of course he had Rudy go looking for them. It's obvious Rudy was in a big bind when he got Kan here. He knows he could have come to me, and I would have helped Kan free of charge. He probably came looking for me here, since he knows I hardly sleep.

The alcohol makes itself known in my bloodstream. The mildew smell of the bar is no longer pronounced. Maybe I'll catch some good shuteye tonight.

Reece sits beside me, rubbing his tattooed head. A habit I think he does when he's drunk and wallowing in his past. "Come on. I'll give you one for free," he says. There's a bead in his goatee getting ready to fall out.

"No way. If I wanted a prison tattoo, I'd do it myself." I doubt I'll ever willingly put an open wound on my body in a world full of famished. Reece is always trying to give someone a tattoo. He needs a new hobby.

A massive shadow drapes over Reece and I as the squeak of one of the famished cages open. The bitch boys are stuffing one in. A female, and she puts up one hell of a fight. Snarls ensue from her throat, and she's unaware of her tits bouncing everywhere.

"I see you haven't lost your touch. Where did you go? A strip club?" I joke at the source of the large shadow.

"Damn, Rudy." Reece says, eyeing the zombie in contempt, but he brightens and looks back at him. "Think of anything yet?"

"I told you if I ever think of something I want on my body forever, I'll let you know." Rudy sits in the stool on the other side of me, his body tense, but he shakes his head, watching the zombie with a hint of disdain. Rings circle his eyes as if he's lost sleep. "You should see the one he wanted up there." He jerks his chin up to the loft overlooking the Trap where Guido spends most of his time doing whatever he does.

I screw my nose in revulsion. "I'll pass."

"I have to go, but I wanted to talk to you first."

This might be interesting. "Wouldn't have anything to do with your newfound taste in women, would it?"

Reece raises the bushes he calls eyebrows and leans in to hear the answer. Rudy's jaw clenches, but he realizes it and goes for neutral. "It's not like that."

Trying not to look surprised or happy about it, I say, "Where did she come from?" I almost curse myself because he looks at me sharply, already knowing I looked through her stuff by that one question. I should have worded it differently, but something flashes in his eyes. He's worried about this one. I pick up my moonshine to sip on it.

"I don't know. She crashed an SUV near the base. She was going right in the middle of the dead zone."

Surprise causes moonshine to go down the wrong pipe and up my nose. The burn waters my eyes, and I cough until I can speak again, "What fucking for?"

"Same thing as me. She has someone there. I have a couple of rounds in the ring, so we'll be here for a few weeks at most. Says she'll help me get into the base, and Guido's rounding up a few guys, too."

This all makes a lot of sense. He's paying for it, but at least he won't be going by himself anymore, but for some reason, I want to go on the death mission, too. He continues, "I need a favor."

Even if I want to, I can't. "You know I can't go."

"That's not what I need." When I glance at him, he's staring at me as if he can convey what he wants though ESP. I almost laugh, but his features sharpen. He's serious. Deadly so, and I already know I'll do what I can. "I need you to keep Kan under wraps."

It's what I expected. "Already figured I should look into her more before coming to any decisions. But why would you care?"

"Because she has no problems wanting to help. I believe she thinks she owes me. She has some conclusive theories." He glances at the dance floor filled with drunken bodies. "She can hold her own. Even when sick and dizzy and riding piggy back, she fought the famished." He looks back at me with that intense stare he has. "We were a split second from being trampled by them."

"What?" Reece says at the same time I say, "Piggy back? Really?" I'm a tad envious, but at least I know what it is now. They connected during the heat of battle.

Rudy smirks at us while tightening his bandana. The one he doesn't normally wear. "Not something I'll forget anytime soon. Kind of badass, but she doesn't know much almost like she's been... hiding and somehow a loved one ended up at the base in the dead zon-" He cuts off, catching sight of something across the warehouse. Smacking the bar, he rumbles, "Time to go."

Reece and I follow his line of sight and laugh as he strides to the side door of the Trap.

"Hey! When's your next fight?"

"Day after tomorrow," he throws over his shoulder.

He looks back at me, saluting with a tipped smile. Poor guy is always running away from women. Looking back at the redheaded hooker who scowls at the slamming door, I don't blame him a bit.

Then...

Climbing into my car, the radio gave me the same news as the Sarge. Right then, the big cities were in states of emergency with everyone being told to stay in their homes. From the look of it, there's nothing anyone could do. If Jaclyn would have had cable, we'd have found out a whopping eighty-one percent of the country was sick.

I didn't know it yet, but my commanding officer was dead within twenty-four hours of our conversation. Everyone died, because they did the exact same thing as I did. Instead of following strict orders, I went to my mom's house. I still have dreams about everything I saw on the way, but I never stopped to help anyone. According to the Sarge, anyone sick or bitten was considered dangerous. He was extra interested in Jaclyn's symptoms, but I didn't really know or pay attention since she said it was normal.

The car still sat in the driveway. I held my firearm up when I noticed the driver's side door was slick and shiny with blood, and the garage door wide open. My mom's wooden table was turned over, but it looked like a struggle and not something she did for the project itself. I reached a shaking hand to turn the doorknob of the house. When I opened it, blood covered the hallway walls. A handprint stuck out to me, and my eyes burned as they took in the kitchen. More blood streaked the floors with footprints. Even on the spot I had found her curled into a ball the day we got the call.

I strained to hear anything going on further into the house. From the voicemail message, I knew I needed to see the bedroom. I had to know.

Upon investigating, all I found was more gore and no bodies-meaning she probably left the house on foot-as one of them. My throat wanted to close in on itself as I dropped my arms to my sides still gripping the pistol. I swept the room with my gaze, landing on a folded flag in a glass case. Backing out of the room, I swallowed repeatedly. A ringing started in my ears as I walked down the stairs before a high keening sound came from the top. I turned in time to see a man stumble down the stairs, taking me with him. We turned over twice before we landed. Teeth snapped in front of my face as I held him back to shoot him. The aim was a little off and I got him right in the face as blood and thicker things stuck to the wall and my arms.

I jumped up and ran to the sink as my body trembled and scrubbed my skin clean, watching the frantic movements of my own hand under the water. When I was done, I leaned against the counter. There was only one thing to do. Report for duty.

Now...

I walk in Guido's loft without knocking not bothering to look around at his appalling abode. He shoots me an irritated glare, but my eyes go directly to Mago sitting on the couch-a stark contrast against the light color of it. That's right, he's here for a put on show. I would apologize for interrupting, but I'm not sorry. It's not like they were doing anything important. Guido's rolling his cigarettes.

I ignore Mago. Even though I don't want to say what I have to say in front of him, I do anyway. "You're getting some guys up for Rudy?"

Guido nods, "Yeah. So? Purty gorilla payin' for it."

"Count me in."

"Why? Who gonna git me my shit? No good to me dead. And all those peeps goin' might as well be dead now. Unless yew want to bring back gorilla boy as a dead 'em, I know he got ta have-"

"You're a sordid human being." I spit, cutting him off before he says what I think he's going to say. Rudy already hit the jackpot in the-I'm a huge motherfucker-gene lottery. I don't want to think about the bastard's-my junk's so heavy I always have to reposition it-problems. A smile stretches across Guido's face as if he likes people thinking he's disgusting. "Doesn't matter what happens to me, I'm replaceable."

"I don't think so, we gots somethin' special yew and me." Guido glances at Mago. "Yew gonna bring back Mac boy as a dead 'em?"

Sitting back against the couch, Mago steeples his fingers with dark, dangerous eyes. "I condone your idiosyncrasies. Not revel in them."

I laugh because I'm right there with him. Guido turns back to me, "Fine, but I need some supplies before yew leave and another fight from purty boy."

"No more fights." I glare at him, daring him to argue with me.

He doesn't, knowing he has what he has because of me. "All good," he mumbles, returning his attention back to his cigarettes.

Suppressing a comeback, I turn and leave. The door doesn't close behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see Mago standing on the landing. The door closes and he speaks, "You know what you're doing?"

"Yes, and I don't need you speaking a word to anyone. It would be good to have your help."

"It's not time."

"Not going to stop these people from getting killed."

"You can stop them," he says.

"No, but I can prolong it."

When I make it to the Trap, Rudy is already there taking shots of moonshine before his fight. "You throwing this one?"

Smiling, he shakes his head. "If I was, I wouldn't tell you." He's right. The last time he fought, he let Isaac kick the crap out of him, but it was because of the deal he made with Guido.

"Kan wake up?"

Rudy shifts in his seat and situates his package discreetly. "Yeah, but she's not coming."

I snort, "Right." And I let it go when I see Guido walking towards us. "Good luck, man. I didn't bet on your ass this time."

He answers by taking his shot before I walk away. I'm heading toward the hallway to leave when the outside door opens. Glinda walks in and she laughs with Kan.

Kan says something to her and Glinda gives her a look. I scoot up against the wall to watch them and absently pick glue from my fingers, an unfortunate result of making arrows. She turns her attention to the warehouse with wide eyes, taking everything in. Walking to the bar, she grips her pistol crossbow as if she might have to use it any minute. Glinda grabs her, pulling her away from where they stand. Glinda hands her a shot that looks to be tequila from the color. She takes it easily and keeps looking around. They laugh at something being said. The sound carries to my ears even over the music.

I notice when Kan spots Rudy because she freezes and steps back as if she doesn't want him to see her. Candy walks up to Rudy as I smirk at how he tenses up. She rubs him and Kan watches curiously. She looks away and takes in the assorted famished littered throughout the warehouse.

The DJ announces the fight and the patrons scream the announcement with him. A barely-there top catches my attention. It's a small tank top and huge tits are poking out the sides and over the top. Peaches, the source of the slutty top and every single bout of crab rumors, strolls up and smiles at me.