"Now you people don't make me want to throw up," Gordy said.

"I wish I could say the same for you," Lou said.

"Ha ha," Gordy replied.

"Enough fun and games," Wes said. "We need some essentials. Everyone grab a backpack and fill it with a change of clothes, some bottled waters. Ajax and Ariabod, you two get to carry the food."

The gorillas nodded.

"Oz," Wes said, "we're going to need something to fight with. Come with me."

Everyone dispersed. Wes and I headed to the sporting goods section to gather up some weapons. Much to our delight, we found plenty of archery equipment, hunting knives, and camp axes. We were in business.

"Don't grab more than we need. It's best if we travel light," Wes said.

We gathered knives and axes for everyone, a couple of replacement crossbows, and plenty of arrows.

"We'll need flashlights, batteries, and rope, too," Wes said.

"On it," I said. I moved to the center walkway and looked for the sign for flashlights. I spotted it six aisles down and hurried to the aisle. I found six of the smallest flashlights in stock and turned to find the rope when I stopped dead in my tracks. A Taker stood at the end of the aisle. It chattered and sprawled its arms to the side. It was just a tad shorter than the shelves on either side of me. Slime dripped from its body.

"Easy, boy," Wes said from behind me.

I swallowed hard. "I'd forgotten how scary they are."

The Taker growled at the sound of my voice.

"It don't seem to like you much," Wes said.

"Misunderstandings are bound to happen. I did kill its queen after all."

The Taker opened its massive mouth and lurched forward. Thankfully it was too wide to enter the aisle way.

"I thought these things were overgrown pussycats now," I said.

"All bets are off since the Delons have lost control," Wes said. "We should assume that our friend here has bad intentions."

"That's not hard," I said.

"Back away slowly."

I did as instructed, and the Taker seemed confused by the narrow expanse of the aisle. It examined the shelves of goods on both sides. Placing one massive hand on the top of the shelves to its left, it began to rock them back and forth. The metal creaked and scraped as it began to give way to the Taker's strength.

"Quick step it," Wes said, a touch of panic in his voice.

"You said to back up slowly."

"Changed my mind..."

A thunderous pop echoed through the store as the Taker pushed the shelves over. I turned and ran to the other end of the aisle, zooming past Wes. The Taker bounded toward us, shaking the ground with each heavy footfall.

"Any ideas?' Wes yelled.

"Split up," I said.

"Not a chance..."

"This thing's after me, right?"

"So."

"So, he'll follow me wherever I go. You can get the others and take this sucker out before it eats me."

Wes hesitated. "Fine, but if you get ate before I get the others, I'm gonna be pissed."

"Hurry up then."

With that Wes broke off to the right and headed down an aisle that housed small kitchen appliances. I took the first left and pumped my legs as fast as they would go. As expected, the Taker pursued me and ignored Wes. I wanted to be relieved, but I couldn't really manage it. The Taker chattered and roared. I got the feeling it sensed that catching and eating me was just a matter of time. I hoped that it was going to be disappointed.

I rounded the next aisle to the right and stopped suddenly to prevent myself from running into an unexpected obstacle. I stumbled and fell to the floor. A hand reached down and helped me to my feet. Tyrone.

"Ty..."

He motioned for me to keep moving. "I got this." He pulled a hunting knife out of its sheath.

"C'mon," I said grabbing his arm.

He shook loose and ran in the direction of the Taker which by now was barreling down on us with more speed than I thought possible even for a mythical beast.

"Stop!" I said.

Tyrone dove across the floor and slid between the Taker's legs, slicing away at the monster's calves. The greasy beast screeched in pain and put on the brakes with such haste that it lost its balance and fell to the floor with a raucous thud. Ty was on his feet in a split second. He leapt on the Taker's back and started hacking away at it with his hunting knife. He was possessed. Mad.

The Taker was only momentarily disabled. It flinched and, in doing so, flung Tyrone from its back and stood. It was panting. It extended its claws and slashed a display of stuffed teddy bears. Tyrone scrambled backwards, trying to get to a distance where he could stand and mount another attack. The Taker stomped forward, slashing as he did. I was no longer its primary target. I reached in my backpack and pulled out a crossbow. I prayed I still had decent aim. I loaded it and quickly fired. The arrow lodge into the creature's lower back. It took no notice. In an instant, it wrapped its huge hands around Tyrone's waist and picked him up. The monster's mouth opened wide, and its jaws unhinged. Tyrone was about to be swallowed. I grabbed another arrow. My hands were shaky. I struggled to reload the crossbow. Hearing clicking behind me, I turned to see Kimball tearing across the polished concrete floor. He leapt through the air and buried his teeth into the Taker's backside. The creature roared and swirled around, knocking display items to the floor as it did. Tyrone fought to free himself from the monster's grip.

The Taker swatted at Kimball. The German Shepherd clamped down harder. The creature let out a nerve rattling howl as it stumbled and crashed to its knees. Tyrone wriggled free and instead of running for safety, climbed on the monster's back. He raised the blade of the knife and brought it down with all his might into the back of the Taker's head. The monster let out a pained squeal and then went limp, collapsing on its barrel chest.

Tyrone screamed and repeatedly smacked the now dead creature in the back of the head. I approached slowly. I was more frightened of him than I had ever been of the Taker.

"Ty," I said quietly.

He continued to beat on the creature.

"Tyrone," I barked.

He turned to me, his entire body heavy. His teeth were clenched together so hard that I thought they might crack. His eyes were blood red.

"It's dead."

He looked at the Taker and then slowly climbed off its back, stumbling when his feet hit the floor. He somehow managed to keep himself from falling over. Just before walking away, he kicked the Taker in the ribs as hard as he could. "Not dead enough," he said. "Not dead enough." With that, he strolled past me and headed for the front of the store.

Wes approached from behind me.

I barely noticed him. I was focused on Tyrone.

"How'd you kill it?"

"I didn't. Tyrone did."

"Tyrone? Goodness knows. The boy's growing up."

I shook my head. "I'm worried about him."

"Worried? The kid just killed a thousand pound greasywhopper. You should be proud of him."

"You didn't see him. He was out of his mind."

"It's Valerie," I heard Lou say. I turned to see her standing next to Wes. There was a pained look on her face. I knew what she was thinking. It was her fault. Valerie was dead because of her. Because she trusted a Silencer. That Silencer killed Valerie. I knew that's what she was thinking because I was thinking it, too. I hated myself for it, but I couldn't help myself.

"He's going to have to get over it," I said. It was cold and uncaring. I didn't plan it that way, but it came out of my mouth that way. Wes and Lou looked horrified. Gordy and April had approached from the other side. They had heard me, but didn't react. "This is war!" I shouted. I'm not sure why. I wasn't mad. It was as if I wanted to make sure the entire world heard me. "People die in wars. People we know. People we love. People... we kill. We have to start accepting that. If we don't, there's no way we can win."

Wes cleared his throat. "This ain't war, son. This is survival. Dying kind of ruins that."

FOUR.

Leaving the Walmart was harder than I expected. After we got over the shock of the encounter with the Taker, we settled in and gathered up as many supplies as we could find. The store was in pretty bad shape, but it was familiar The truth was that little by little, day by day, you forget about your previous life. The first time you realize you can't remember a certain smell, or sound, or face as well as you used to, it bothers you. You'll give yourself a headache trying to recall it, but the really bad part is when you don't spend the time or effort to try and remember. It means you've totally given up without even realizing it.

The store was cold. I was cold. Numb really. I was back with my friends... my family. That's what they were, my family. I would die for them. I would kill for them. But at that moment, I felt like I was a million miles away. Something was not right. I should have been happy because I was back with them after being away for so long, but I wasn't. I drifted away from everyone else and found a corner in the stockroom where I could just sit and... not feel the others staring at me. It felt as though their eyes were always on me. Watching every move I made. I didn't know why exactly, but if I had to guess I'd say they were wondering if I was the same Oz that I was before I disappeared. I wasn't. Not by a long shot. But I wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing.

I settled in behind a pile of overturned boxes. They had been ripped open and emptied of their contents long ago. I took a deep breath and was surprised when I felt a lump form in my throat. I choked and coughed. Tears started to fall. I was crying. For no reason, or maybe for too many reasons to count. I fought to cry in silence. The more I did, the more it hurt. I needed to just break down and have an all out crying fit, but I couldn't let myself go. I could be discovered at any moment, and this wasn't the time to lose control. If they saw me crying, they'd be even more concerned about me. They wouldn't trust me, and I wouldn't blame them.

I thought I was past crying. I wasn't a kid anymore, not mentally. I was a warrior. "I am Creyshaw," I whispered in between sobs.

The word conjured up an image of Scoop-face in my mind's eye. Only I didn't picture him as Scoop-face. I saw him as Archie. The Delons had him. That was almost certain. The Myrmidons wouldn't be here otherwise. Those were the rules. Once a Storyteller is captured, their destroyer breaks through from... wherever it is they come from. The Myrmidons were little Bobby's Destroyers. They were his creation, and Archie was his warrior.

I looked up and gasped at the sight of April standing in front of me. I didn't know how long she had been standing there. I quickly hid my face and hoped she wouldn't realize I had been crying.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

If she knew I had been crying, she didn't let on. "Settle in for the night," I said. "We'll hit the road in the morning."

"That's not what I mean," she said.

I studied her face. I had not really looked at her before. She was older than me, but the lost look in her eyes made her look years younger. "About what?"

"Bobby... Archie, they're still alive."

I sighed, brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my hands around my legs. "No way of knowing for sure." I knew in my heart that they were, but I wanted there to be doubt among the group to make my decision to go on without them easier. These are the tough decisions warriors have to make. That's what I told myself anyway.

"Yes there is," she said. "We should go back."

I was surprised by her assertion. I didn't know her well, but from what I did know about her I got the idea she wasn't the type to go all Marine on me and not leave a man behind. "Too risky."

"We can't just leave them."

"The Delons got Bobby. We know that because of the Myrmidons. If they got Bobby, that means..." I refused to go on.

"But you said they might not have been captured." she insisted.

"I was trying to be... optimistic." I stood. "It just doesn't make sense to go back."

"But Archie..."

"Stop," I said sharply. "Archie is either dead or... praying for death. Either way, we can't help him."

She started to shake. "I don't want to be the only one."

I furrowed my brow. I had no idea what she meant.

"They're gone."

I cleared my throat. "A lot of people are gone..."

"They're gone!" she screamed. "Tank, Bobby... Archie. I'm the only one left."

I understood. She had lost her family for the second time. I knew how that felt. I guess I should have told her that the fact that she survived meant she still had work to do, that she was destined to do something important, but I didn't believe it, and she would have heard the doubt in my voice. So I told her something I did believe. "You'll be gone soon enough."

She looked at me, horrified. "What do you mean?" "I mean what I said. You're not going to be around much longer. None of us are." With that, I walked away but not before catching a disappointed look from Lou. She had been standing in the shadows listening to our conversation. I had a feeling she was sorry she had.

We dipped into bags of trail mix for dinner. The expiration date had come and gone long ago, but we were hungry enough to chance it. Beyond being a little chewier and stale, they were edible.

Tyrone ate with a faraway look in his eyes. No one really talked during the meal, but Tyrone somehow made his silence more noticeable than the rest of us. I caught a glimpse of his profile and was struck by how old he looked. Not older, but old. His complexion was gray, and he had huge bags under his eyes. Of course, I'm sure I did too, but I know they weren't as noticeable as his. He didn't just look tired. He looked like he was on death's doorstop.

Wes crumbled his empty bag of trail mix and tossed it aside. "That ain't gonna do for a big boy like me." He grabbed his extended stomach and shook it. "This belly is getting harder and harder to maintain."

Ajax grinned and nodded his massive head.

"How do you stay so fat?" Gordy asked without any malice.