"Yes, I love this movie." I state and go back to watching.

His mouth opens to say something else, but I hold up my hand. "Fuck off." Saccharine laces through my tone.

His brows lower and ripple together, face twisting he says, "What? You think you're too good for anyone here?" A smirk crosses his thin lips as his dark brown gaze roams over me. Attractive, but I don't want anything to do with him.

"That never crossed my mind." I get up and start walking toward the open hall door.

"Kan?" The voice is thick with excitement. Knowing the voice right off the bat, I bite the inside of my lip, so I won't explode on the dumbass.

I do anyway, "What the hell are you doing here, Kale?" He looks around, swallowing. "I thought I told you to go south." He looks better than he did before, with hair covering his ears, wearing a long sleeved T-shirt with some kind of logo on it, and jeans with a pre-made hole in the knee. I've seen Sam wear that logo before but don't know what it means. Some kind of skater gear, I assume.

"Uh, I followed you here. Speaking of which, where have you been?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

"Around." I remember how pleasantly relieved I was, getting rid of him the first time.

He grabs my arm, "Let's go talk for a minute."

Jerking my arm away, I say, "No!" I stare him down and he visibly shrinks back, pissing me off that he doesn't have the balls to stand up for himself. Although, him flinching from me makes me feel bad. "Later, okay? You have no idea what I've been through."

He nods, smiling his smile that had once kind of charmed me.

"Besides, I'm pissed. You should have gone to Birmingham." Everyone stares at us. A few of the girls glare daggers at me. Apparently he's been turning on the charm. Turning back to Kale, I say, "You're already causing me to get glares from other people." I think for a second. "You know Bridget thought you left with me? I had to knock her out."

"You went back?"

I nod, slipping a quick grin. "To set my house on fire. Then again to get my books." I pause before going on, "Harley is dead." Ice blue eyes blink at me, Kale probably assumes I killed him.

"You're different." He studies me, mostly my hair.

"No, I think I just found myself."

He shakes his head, throwing hair out of his intense gaze. "Maybe, but you're talking."

He's right. I hardly communicated with them when they were guests in my bunker. Now, I'm chatting it up like he's my long lost friend. He wants me to elaborate, but I'm ready to get out of here. "You should have gone to Birmingham, Kale." With that I turn to go back to the dorm.

A few hours later, I'm under the covers sleeping with Mac's shirt when someone shakes me awake. I look out to see a young woman standing beside my bunk. Her fair, curly blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, but cute little curls escape in ringlets around her face. A belly sticks out, looking way too large for her petite body. A black and white printed maternity blouse hangs stylishly off one shoulder, and a red, beaded necklace with a huge red heart pendant rests between her breasts. I know who this is, and I glare at her.

"Hi," she says, as awkwardness hangs in the air between us. I keep glaring, better than telling her she's stupid. She swallows, "I'm Julie. Donna said you asked for me? I've never seen you though. Did one of your dorm mates request me?"

"Mistake," I turn back over.

"I know you don't want to be here, but if you give it a chance you could have a family, and be happy." An awkward silence follows, and her feet shift as fabric smoothes together as if she is fidgeting. Good. Let her squirm. She thinks my glaring is for being held captive. That would make her half right. A dip moves the bunk as she sits. "I hope we can be friends. I guess I'll take you on the tour tomorrow as planned." This piques my interest.

"No. Take me now."

She's shorter than me, even with her red patent pumps. Who wears pumps while pregnant? Keeping my arms crossed, I don't look at her as she tells me about the different buildings. I notice she skips over several, and when asked about them, I get the, 'Dr. Finnegan usually does the tours,' and she doesn't know much about them. What is with everyone and their lies? We go to a small setting with little brick houses lining the way. Several mature trees line up behind them. She tells me this is the independent family housing. Each house has been landscaped to fit the personality of the owner.

She takes me to her little house, landscaped with holly bushes, and she planted buttercup bulbs for the spring. Like I care. She introduces me to her husband, Jonathan, who's nice, good-looking, and tall with light buzzed hair and matching light brown eyes. A nurse at the medical ward, he's happy to see Julie through her pregnancy, which explains the green scrubs he wears. Being excessively friendly and uplifting, he gazes at Julie with adoration. For how nice they are, they must get some kind of incentive. A bonus if my attitude turns around to become ultra happy.

She offers me little chocolate chip cookies. The chocolate chips arranged into a smiley face on each cookie. The house is neat, clean, and normal. Normal for the late seventies, that is. The walls are wood paneled, and brown shag carpets cover the floor. An avocado-green refrigerator sits on top of vinyl flooring, and an old oak table with matching chairs make up the small kitchen.

The living room and its furniture cast a variety of warm colors: yellow, orange, and red with splashes of green to accent. Not a kitten knickknack out of place. Julie's knitting basket is full of little, pink baby crap.

I snap to as they talk to me. I haven't said anything the whole time, and Jonathan begins to fidget, feeling uncomfortable with me. That makes two of us. Julie gets me out of there as fast as she can.

We go to a playground where kids play and parents push their children on swings. Laughter heightens as the merry-go-round spins faster. These poor kids don't know what's happening, being sheltered and caged like animals, livestock.

"Tell me this Julie what does it take to be fed to a zombie?"

Her eyes widen as she looks at me, studying me for a time before nodding, coming to a conclusion. "When someone is terminally ill, too old they need help to live or as punishment for something severe, like killing a person. Otherwise, they feed them...domestic bovine." Her tone changes as she says bovine.

"So if your baby," I softly pat her belly, "comes down with leukemia at age five, you'll willingly hand it over?"

She pauses, obviously not thinking of this on her own. "There are risks, of course. I'm willing to chance it. We get the best prenatal care. You are under prenatal care too."

Like good prenatal care prevents cancer. "That's what you want for your child? To grow old and be fed to zombies like a cow? Maybe in the meantime, watching a terminally ill child of their own get thrown to the wolves?"

She gets flustered, her face turning pink. Good. She will give me information that way. "If you step back and look at things, you will see that it's the only negative thing out of it. Do you want someone to change your shit diapers when you're old? No? Who does? Before the infection, old people cost money. It's the same with criminals and terminally ill people, all the housing, food, medical care, and research they needed to stay alive." Her chin juts out.

My jaw hangs open, and I snap it closed. I can't believe this is the crap they sell. It's true, but still. Everyone deserves to live, no matter how they chose to live their life. It's not up to us to play God.

She goes on, obviously knowing I'm not buying. "Not to mention the six billion people population destroying the earth, and the war coming. Something had to be done. You should consider yourself lucky you weren't killed in the process, and be thankful you still have a life. You should try to live it as much as you possibly can."

Chills break out across my skin. "What do you mean something had to be done? How do you know zombies won't infiltrate this place?" I blurt all at once. My brain is going into information biohazard alert zone.

Her eyes narrow as I try to straighten out my thoughts. "I think the details you want would be better coming from Dr. Finnegan. Besides, this compound has excellent security."

We stare each other down. By the way her chin is set, I know she isn't going to say anything else. I'm angry about more than what she just told me. I really can't help myself for what I say next. "Looks like you have moved on nicely since the outbreak." I gesture toward her belly, and purse my lips as this sinks into her thick skull. "Congrats on your marriage. How are you going to break the news to your other engagement?" I ask with a voice that could possibly freeze water. She steps back as her hand flies to her mouth in shock.

"RuRudy?"

I can't hold it back. "How could you do this to him? He's been running around figuring out ways to get to you, and you couldn't wait. You have no idea what he's been through. You don't deserve him."

She shakes her head, "You don't under" She freezes and stands up straight, giving me a new kind of scrutiny, baby blue eyes narrowing to slits. "You love him."

I blink as if in slow motion as my heart picks up speed. "Of course, he's become a great friend to me."

She shakes her head. "That's not what I mean. That's why you've been so cold to me. You're in love with him." She sounds as if this is amusing. "I've seen it so many times before."

I ignore her, getting angry. My fists turn to hard balls. "No. He helped me, so now I'm helping him. He's coming to get you, and you better be ready," I say so close to her face I can see her pores. I release my clinched fists, not willing to hit a preggo.

She looks panicked. "He can't come here! How?"

I lift a shoulder, and pick at my cuticles, "We've been planning it for a while with a team. They won't stop because I'm not there."

"He can't!" She all but screams at me. Her peachy-pale face turns pink high in her cheeks. I wipe her spittle from my face. I want to reply, but she turns and runs the other way. Definitely not my brightest moment.

Julie's information makes me sit and stew. She made it sound like they're repopulating to make the world a better place. Bullshit. How does anyone know what goes on with the rest of the world? Something else she said niggles my brain, giving me alarming chills. She said the earth was being destroyed. No shit about that, but she also said something had to be done? What does that mean? I still can't figure out how the zombies are controlled like puppets. I saw them pick up the living without bringing them to their mouths. Julie hasn't seen them, so she wouldn't know. Maybe she does, but I doubt it.

I find my own way back to the dorm. The girls hustle about getting ready for dinner. I don't want to talk to any of them as they sound happy and worry free. Don't they care? Well, I do. I don't care how safe you are, or how safe it seems to be, something is wrong with feeding living people, sick, old, criminal or not, to zombies. It makes me sick to think of the world that way.

Even though much was wrong with how things were, and how people thought, it balanced itself out. Still, people are born to live their lives how they see fit. Someone decided to take advantage of zombies and use the situation to their selfish benefit, at least that's what I got out of it. Why should just the healthy get to live? I need to talk to this doctor.

At dinner, I get a bowl of tomato and basil soup, even though I'm not hungry from lunch. My spoon stirs around swirling the basil specks. Several guys make advances I quickly shut down. Dalton and Kale stay clear of me, even though I can tell Kale wants to sit and talk, but he opts to charm a handful of girls instead. I want to get out of here badly. The smell of this cafeteria will stick with me for the rest of my life.

I can't believe the government hasn't taken this place down. It makes me think of other zombie camps, a scary thought. How many of these places are there? What is more important, what can I do about it? What would I do with the correct information if I get it? Someone snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Here you go." A blonde nurse in green scrubs hands me a little cup with a pill in it.

"What is it?" I'm sure skepticism is written all over my face.

She smiles, not bothered. "A prenatal vitamin." Julie was right about good prenatal care. It won't hurt me, so I take it. "Thank you, Kansas." She says before going to the next person.

Several of the guys in black canvas come in and look around. They have buzz cut hair, and are about the same height. Where did they find these guys? They spot me and make a beeline. Great. What now? I notice Dalton look this way.

"Kansas Moore?" I nod with a raised brow. "Please come with us."

I stand as everyone stares, making me feel like I'm back in high school. I would flip them off if I was six years younger, but I've grown up a bit, and stuff the urge back down.

"What's this about?" I ask in a bored tone as we walk at a rapid pace down the hall.

"Dr. Finnegan has requested to speak with you."

I perk up a bit. "Oh yeah? I feel special having to be escorted by four guards," I quip. The guy that spoke peers at me with interest. Great. Going across the grounds, we head to a building resembling all the other buildings. Go figure, but one Julie avoided telling me about. It perks me up a little bit more.

We walk through a front waiting room with dark green Berber carpet and wood paneled walls lined with metal folding chairs. I'm starting to think the decor isn't their choice, but it was original when this place was built, or maybe redecorated.

A wooden door leads us into a white painted, brick hallway. All the doors are closed, and I can't make out anything more.

I'm taken to an interrogation room. It doesn't have a two-way mirror though. Bummer. I've always wanted to do the two-way mirror test. Of course I did in dressing rooms, though I never caught any perverts. The mirrors are always legit if they show a space between your finger and your mirror image finger. A two-way glass wouldn't have that space. Supposedly, anyway.

The door being the only way out, I sit facing it. Stone boy positions himself next to the door, standing as still as Atlas holding the world on his shoulders. He's no Greek god, with buzzed hair, and eyes like black orbs staring at me. I lean back, putting my feet on the table as a man enters the room.

Average height with a decent haircut, he wears khaki pants and a long sleeved white dress shirt. He's younger than I pictured him, putting him in his forties. Very plain. A person that doesn't stick out, and is easily forgotten. His point, maybe?

"Kansas." I put out my hand to shake his, but he doesn't take it. I mentally added rude to my mental list of Things I Do Not Like About Dr. Finnegan.

"Dr. Finnegan," he introduces, seeing my look. "Ah, southerners. I'm not trying to be rude. I don't shake anyone's hand. I'll get right to it. We have an informant telling us you know plans of an onslaught?"

His choice of words alarms me, and I inwardly curse. "Why would I know anything about that?"

His eyes narrow. "You understand, it's not safe for the walls to be destroyed?"

"What I don't understand is how the zombies are being controlled," I get right to my point. His face shows nothing. "Yeah, I've seen them. They picked up humans, carried them around like flour sacks. In fact, I was probably carried by them."

"You have it wrong," he shakes his head. "They aren't being controlled, just satisfied." My bullshit meter starts going off. "Just tell us what you know."

I'll get more information if I give him a bone. "I don't really think they are coming. They would have been here days ago. I was kidnapped before plans were fully to a point."

"How did they plan to get in?"

"Guns, trucks." Explosives I helped make. Omitting this information becomes top priority.

Finnegan leans back. "Gray, put out an alert just in case." He looks back at me. "If you didn't think they were coming, why did you tell Julie that?"

"I never said anything about a full out attack, but she's engaged to someone else. He wants her back. I suppose I was mad at her for marrying some other guy. Simple as that." I shrug.

"Rudolph Hawthorne?"

I cough to hold back a giggle. Rudolph? Poor Rudy. No wonder he accepted my name without a blink of an eye. He's named after a reindeer with a glowing red nose.

"If you're talking about Rudy, then yeah." I say, still trying to hold back laughter, glad he's not here to see my effort. Maybe he's just named after a great uncle. My humor dies at the thought of never being able to tease him, or make him blush again. Oh no. I'm in trouble.

Gray comes back in and stands in the same place. "Why would you care who she married and didn't? Her choice," Finnegan asks, never taking his eyes off me.

"I don't. Rudy saved me from a pickle, and I told him I'd help him get Julie back. In the meantime, we became good friends. So, it's only natural when I find out Julie moved on, while Rudy risks his life everyday for her, for me to get angry," I say matter-of-factly.

"You do know he is the one who left?"

Yeah I did, I shrug at him, picking at my sore cuticles.

"Gray? Take her back now," Finnegan goes to stand.

"Wait! What about the zombies?"

"Kansas, the zombies won't last forever. They will die out. Even if they turn the rest of the people on earth, they will still die out. It could be twenty-five years down the road, longer or shorter than that. The," he hesitates, "the virus was made that way. Until then, the vaccine keeps everyone safe. You will get it when you prove your loyalty." Virus sounds like a foreign concept coming from his mouth. He omits something, something important. Did I seriously think I would get anything more than he's already told me?

I let my mouth hang open and snap it closed as it dawns on me this man has something to do with the outbreak. "What the hell kind of doctor are you? And what's this about a vaccine?" I try to sound curious instead of over-eager, or worse, angry.

"Gray." Finnegan gestures to me.

"Wait!" I scream as Gray grabs my arm. "The virus was made?" An electric outrage flows through my body like a lit fuse. If he's going to give me answers, I'll fight for them.

Dr. Finnegan shoots me a mock smile. "Of course."

My dad, my mom, and Malachi flicker across my mind. The fuse ends, and I explode, throwing myself at him, and driving my palm up toward his nose. Bone crunches, but the table slides keeping my arm momentum to a minimum. He jumps away quickly, still alive. Damn! Blood sprays before Gray tackles me to the ground.

I try not to show my disappointment when I look up. Finnegan wipes his nose with his sleeve. "I'm going to ignore that. Killing me won't make anything different, Miss Moore. Gray, if she causes anymore problems, give her an injection."

Injection? Dr. Cuckoo leaves the room holding his nose up. "Hold on girl!" Gray whispers harshly as I elbow him in the gut. "Listen!" he grunts, holding me down as I struggle to get him off. "You have to calm down. There is already a red flag on you." I will myself to calm down. He's helping me? "There, I know it seems crazy and it is, but..."

"He's at least partly responsible for a planet of people dying you asshole!" I elbow him in the jaw as my dad's face flashes through my mind opening the wound fresh. Malachi's did nothing but put salt on it. Calming down, I say, "Please, let me go."