* Placed somewhere at the end of season 2 . BEFORE Lucy is born . AFTER we have Hector as a friend . AFTER Cassandra is dead. AFTER the Nukes.

* One Shot in two chapters, I guess. There's more I want to put down but I don't want to make an entire story of it. So, Enjoy!

Under a Pale Blue Sky.

It starts with a carnival on wheels.

A caravan of circus performers who will do what they have all always done in an art that is still relevant to the day. They will perform wherever the road takes them, in whichever place seems populated enough to set up and trade. This is how they make their lives in a world of little happiness and release. Two trucks with their beds covered and both towing trailers full of props and gear. The trucks drive between three vans that are full of people, and ahead of the frontmost van is the leader who drives the 18 wheeler. The zombie specialized, outward pointed plow mounted tracker trailer is driven by none other than ringmaster, PocketPosie. A man who is just as disgusting as the name leads him to sound. On the side of the cargo container reads, "PocketPosies': Destination exhiBITEion."

PocketPosie is a man as horrible as his name leads him to sound and is the equivalent to every part-time sideshow host, full-time addict carnie type of character written in horror stories. He's a top hat and tailor suited wearing man whose adjusted his looks too sharp spikes and strapped guns in place of sequence, microphones, and canes. He's towing the exhibit that contains the most precious of the groups' cargo. Cargo named, Miss. Operation BiteMark. The name comes from an announcement that PocketPosie had heard on a radio broadcast three years ago but was never able to respond to. The static voice of a Citizen Z was speaking to an Operation Bite Mark and was explaining an abomination that didn't match up to what he had tied up in the back of the trailer. For one, he was actually a she.. And no way was her name, Murphy.

Everyone needs trade these days and Operation BiteMark was his most popular attraction outside the gambling slots and racks of good booze. Everyone wanted to know her story and this had always been the trade he was best at. So, PocketPosie, with his 5 o'clock shadow and yellow rotting teeth, smiles with a cigar between his teeth, the smoke trailing out of the slightly cracked open window. They would drive until he would announce they would stop and set up. Most often outside of a civilization and on possibly populated roads. But, for now, he smiles as he drives his rig on into the sunrise, listening to the radio static to life.

It's gonna be a good day.

...

Things had been going rather pleasantly as far as pleasant could be in the almost three years since the apocalypse and things had become routine which was another sort of comfort these days. Mercying was a daily event as was travel and rationing, but their bags had been filled and a successful trade meant water, and a refill of medication and with that, some security. Murphy was near his normal insufferable but had settled into a notch in the hearts of the group. 10k had traded skins for ammo, and Addy added a new side weapon to her always favorite bat. A rotating spiked knuckle weapon that was curved sideways and allowed for a fast death to the brain in just a twist of the wrist.

Right now, they were split into two vehicles and were eagerly awaiting the next time a car looked like it held the slightest bit of gas. Unlikely though, they were on a long stretch of a two-lane country highway and the last of the available gas had surely been taken years ago. Hector would ride aside Murphy who sat behind Warren and with Addy in the passenger seat. Not extremely social or keen to the kind of conversation Murphy regularly supplied, the car ride was rather quiet aside from the staticing of changing radio channels as Addy twist the dial, listening for anything. She'd suddenly pass the noise of recognizable chatter and a flicker of a message and with a passing glance to Warren, she twists the dial back slowly.

Come one! Come All!" The car comes to life with the sound of an excited calling. "To PocketPosies Traveling Destination Exhi-BITE-ion!" Paused for a chuckle. "Just follow the signal and look for the orange tents, we have games and attractions and prices relevant to ALL situations. Follow the signal! Look for the orange tents! See Gladiators fight and bet on your favorites, see the daring tricks of Master Eight and his team! And of course!" A drum roll noise, "Miss. Operation BiteMark! The Zombie Queen. The Controller of EVIL! Follow the signal now, look for the signs of the big top we all wish to remember from better days! Orange Tents! Come now!"

But Murphy didn't hear what the others had, he didn't see the stiffening in the seats or he would have been one of them. He didn't see the looks that were passed but he would have passed his own around. Instead, his eyes were closed and his head was resting on the folded jacket that he was using as a pillow to rest against the window.

"Zombie Queen." Warren cocked her eyebrow at Addy before glancing behind her to Hector, then to the sleeping Murphy. "Is he okay?" She asks as she turns back to the road.

At first glance, it seemed like Murphy was simply just sleeping, but if you didn't look away so quickly and took some care and time to analyze, you'd see his body was twitching. His eyes and the edges of his lips would twitch. His shoulders would filch and his legs would stiffen and at times kick out just slightly.

"Murphy," Hector said, giving a slight push to the man's shoulder.

Nothing.

"Murphy." He tried harder with another, harder push.

Nothing. And with a look to Warren who was watching in the rearview mirror, Hector gave her a shrug.

"Hey! Murphy!" She yelled.

Nothing.

"Murphy!" Warren and Addy called at once.

And like a bolt that startled everyone, Murphy opened his eyes wide and jumped forward, his hands grasping the back of Warrens seat with a such a sharp start that Warren flinched too, but quickly corrected the twitch she made at the wheel

"What was that?!" She commanded and was quick to pick up on Murphys gasping breaths.

"Where are we?" He said in a startled rush, eyes darting out at all the windows at once.

"On the same road." Addy sighed, still twist around in her seat watching him. "We wanted to know if The Murphy wanted to go to a carnival." She spoke in a joking tone, like a mother to a child.

"Pull over.."

Addy laughed.

"No, I'm serious." He urged, suddenly turning quite pale for his very blue shade. "Pull over. I'm going to throw up."

"Murphy." Warren tested.

"No. Really." He urged his hand already on the door handle.

Warren raised her eyes and cocked her head to the side as the man heaved and quickly, she pulled the truck over onto the side dirt road and stopped but not before Murphy was already halfway out.

It was a further fall to the ground than he had expected and he would stumble a bit but would keep the dignity of standing on his feet when a step later he would throw up with his back to the vehicle. With every heave, he would vomit away vital food and liquids but he couldn't stop even after his stomach was cleared... Sighing between two heaves of nothing, he hears the car pull up behind them and Docs voice come from out the window.

"He okay?" The old man yelled but wasn't given the answer by the man who was at this point regaining his breaths and uncurling his back, but instead, his voice would come from Warren who answered a simple and impatient, yes.

Standing up straight he was ready to turn to either side, arms raised in defeat once again, but it was as he stood upright did he see out across the flat, very dead and trampled farmland. It looked like a gathering of some sort of tall chain gated walls with brightly colored fabric tent looking domes.

"What is that?" He called to whoever would answer but instead, his voice brought people closer.

"That must be the carnival." Addy shrugged.

"The Carnival?" Doc asked, now standing behind the open door of the car.

10K would be heard above the rest and the group would turn to an approaching bright orange minivan that slowed to a stop. "Incoming."

With hands on their guns, the group turned and waited for whoever would climb from the vehicle.

Clowns.

Three dirty clowns, but still it was clowns who presented themselves with smiles from the back and passenger seats. With entertaining, rather foolish looking jumps towards the group. Both pulled out papers once they were close enough and pushed them forward towards the group.

"Come, come!" The woman said happily.

"Prices worth haggling for." the woman's mirroring male counterpart beamed.

"And prizes worth risking for," The third woman winked at Hector and flicked out her hip.

"And friends worth making." The first concluded with a smile at Murphy. A smile that faltered just slightly.

But there was something else in her eyes that Murphy was not alone in noticing. It was the same look as when you see something extraordinary that you had only seen once before and expected to never see again. A chilling hint of unfamiliar familiarity stumbled over the woman's red painted look but only lasted a moment though because suddenly the three would laugh loudly and without allowing any questions they ran off back to their car. With a revving of the engine and the slamming of doors the car was off and driving down the road.

"We need to go there." Murphy's voice would return them to the conversation, a very apparent urgency pushing him a few steps further off the side of the road and into the gravel.

A quick turn and he yanked the flier out of Warrens grasp before facing the tents again. The paper was basic and listed all the attractions, vendors, offers and finally, in the largest letters, the leading act.

"Miss. Operation BiteMark" He whispers to himself and his eyes narrow on the longest of the orange tents.

"We... We need to go there." He pushed himself from under the weight of the many eyes but gave a sharp nod as he started back to the truck.

With no real argument of why not, Warren shrugged at Doc who shrugged back with his arms before he headed back to the second van and to 10K who was waiting.

"All, right." She sighed loudly as she turned on her toe. "We're taking a small detour everyone."

..

It was a half mile later when the car turned into the dirt top parking lot and stopped in front of the bright orange tent set ups. They were not the only cars as they were not the only visitors as well as not the only teams. As they got out of the cars the entrance was clear as it was the only opening into the gated arena. There was a sign held between two stacks of hay that asked for weapons to be put away which they would abide by out of respects.

The tents created a circle that was closed in by gates that buzzed with threatening electricity. There are string lights that hang from the tents and twist down posts but it's still far too bright out to be able to see what colors they shine. It was fairly easy to tell who was a worker and who was a visitor because all the entertainers had face paint or masks on and all looked exactly as terrifying as one would imagine a zombie apocalypse style clown would look.

As the group slowly moved from their car, Murphy, who placed himself in his normal spot behind in the back of the group, pulled his hood over his head and slipped a pair of black sunglasses over his wandering eyes before his hands were stuffed in his jacket pocket. He had learned his lesson in staying concealed, and although he didn't like it, he did like this specific group he was forced to travel with.

"I hate clowns." Hector looked around as they walked up to the entry booth to be greeted by a male and female clown who mirrored each other exactly and wore opposite bright to dark outfits and matching machine guns.

"Welcome! Welcome!" They said in unison, "We have but one request. Please keep this area of truce and merry cheer. Keep your weapons down and holstered, and there won't be a single thing to fear."

"Okay." Warren nodded, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Thank you now, and thank you when it's time to leave. Please enter here and have a beer!"

With matching back flips the pair flipped away and the group, lead always by Warren would take their first steps into the carnival.

Inside the circle, right away there was live music. Flutes played along with drums and strings that played on a stage in the center of the circle while all around shops and games were faced inwards and were open for business. There were people playing games of chance while others were at trading stalls that included signs for food, medicine, ammo, apparel, and yes, gas. Each with a sign above their opening, it was the long orange shipping container that was the first thing they saw as they walked in.

Miss. Operation BiteMark. The Zombie Queen. The banner waved in the light wind.

"That." Murphy nodded his head and Warren looked over her shoulder at him before turning to the group.

"Calm down." She urged before looking around the modestly full, gate protected carnival. "Let's get our sights and some ammo before we walk straight into the shipping container. Make sense?"

As Murphy mimicked Warren silently, it was then that a clean faced, slicked back haired entertainer approached. A round man, his suit fits his body and his teeth glisten like bleached bone.

"Welcome to my creation! To my chez magnifique. The one, the only, The Traveling. Destination Exh-BITE-ion! I am your ringleader, PocketPosie. How can I help you, good people, today?"

"PocketPosie." Warren chuckled.

"Why do they call you, PocketPosie?" Addy asked.

He smiled a bright white smile and shimmied forward at the hips and shoulders in a sort of bow.

"Because I smell good, and I'll make you feeeeeel good."

All in good heart, the man seemed overall pretty happy and good-natured. Clearly one for the business, his aura kept the air loose among such a hyper-vigilant society.

"Pocketposie?" Doc laughed nodding his head. "Like from the nursery rhyme?"

"Like the Black Plague. Yes."

"No one smells good in the apocalypse," Addy snorted.

"We," He beamed. "Have a specially designed shower system and the power to run it." A wide smile broke over his lips. "With heat."

"Heat?" Doc laughed, simply amazed.

"For rent, my friend." He smiled at the group, his eyes holding just a moment longer on the individual in the back whose head was cast down, a black hoodie shading his face.

"Well, how much!?"

"We're here to see Miss. Operation BiteMark." Murphy broke his silence just as PocketPosie looked back at the others.

Still wearing his bright smile, PockeyPosie slid his eyes right back up the group and landed on the shadowed faced man, whose blue tint was still visible enough to someone who knew what to look for. A familiar, chilling spark flicking through his eyes.

"And, uhhh. What's going on with your friend over there?" PocketPosie asked Warren, gesturing to Murphy.

His voice was just off enough to grab the attention of the ever perceptual group. Warren narrowed her eyes just slightly and reset her behavior.

"He's sick." She shot down any further conversation. "How much for everything?" She waved her hand towards the space around them.

"Our tent games are priced at the front poles. Your winnings are directed at what your needs are to the best of our abilities. We have food, drugs, meds, gas, and bullets. Most of everything else including the showers are barter stations but if you try and insult us, you'll be asked to leave."

"I'll be over there," Murphy said at first release and as Warren watched PocketPosie as PocketPosie watched Murphy.

"Thank you." She smiled at the ringleader. "You! Wait."

And Murphy would but would act harshly and impatiently. They had to know where each other was going, and like always, a plan had to be made.

"Well, I want a shower." Doc pushed once they had circled a private distance away from earshot.

"Me too." Addy sighed and Warren held her tongue as she looked at Murphy who was staring at her eagerly.

"You need to tell me why you're like this." She directed.

Murphy shrugged. "Like what?"

"Like you have a firecracker up your ass."

He had been pushing the limits of his discourse since he woke up in the car, his head on a swivel and his attention peaked. He was jumpy and acted more like a drugged squirrel than the sane person they needed him to be.

"It's nothing." He shuffled suddenly pulling back into himself. "I like carnivals."

"Than what's almost got you so pale you're almost back to normal?"

He was quiet for a minute, his weight switching back and forth between legs, his arms dug into his pockets. He was lying and had never really been a good lier but wouldn't say anything so all Warren could do was trust him.

"10K. Doc and Addy, you can go shower." She looked at 10K who nodded. "And I will go with Murphy and.." She passed a look at Hector who whose expression alone spoke his words tenfold, "...will come with us to find out more about this, Miss. Operation BiteMark."

The 18 wheeler was open in the back, it's pulled out ramp decorated and acted as stairs to the darkness within. Over the doorway, a red spray-painted ZQ is on a black, flapping blanket. PocketPosie would bring them over to the shipping container himself once he saw the group disband and he'd wave his arm outwards at their destination.

"Please, pay up to start the tour."

"What is, the tour?" Hector asked before he even touched his pocket.

"Miss. BiteMark is the first and only known survivor of not one, but six zombie bites. She stays here, as our main attraction making a comfortable, safe living. The exhibit includes Ms. BiteMark herself along with an exhibition of her abilities to control the zombies we all fear."

The display had remained over theatrical and his hands waved as brightly as his smile and eyes but Warren and Hector looked disbelievingly in return as they both felt the gaze of Murphy who looked at both of them with a fiery urgency. She had to do this or he would alone. Regardless of how much of a scam this was, Murphy was one who she knew would act independently regardless of danger. She knew the mood he was in and although she didn't understand it, she told him she would so that's what she would do. With a sigh and a heavy hand, she drops her payment as does Hector and Murphy and with a smile and a thank you, PocketPosie begins the tour.

"About three, four years ago now, the zombies overran human society but right before that, there was already a treatment in the works. As if the populous was always right and the higher-ups always knew what they did was wrong."

Out of the darkness of the box, dressed up human zombies popped out and began a dance fight between human looking dancers on the very thin ramp.

"It was a very dark time for the rest of us. A darkness only followed by Black Summer that killed off the last of the weakest." The humans theatrically fall off the ramp and onto the ground, "And we were there with you. Watching the sky filled with bombs and the mega hoards ravished the land... Afraid and hungry we were, tired of just trying to make a living. I was traveling like you, and was picking up the team I have now to grow the dream of stability."

He waved them into the trailer and although this was not a situation Warren liked very much at all, she followed Murphy and passed PocketPosie up the steel pull out the track through the waving tarp that blocked the view of inside.

"I don't like this," Hector whispered to Warren as Murphy's fists were almost white as he pulled himself up the walk and out of view.

"I know."

PocketPosies' smile shifted, suddenly growing dark as they stepped into the trailer.

"But there was one of us who was not afraid… There was at least one of us who a had taken a vaccine that would make her a god in this hell."

The top of the trailer was lit with light bulbs that hung from the ceiling in a single line and illuminated the inside of the crate bright enough for a comfortable feel. There was enough room to walk around and on either side, there were artifacts, pictures, and some documents but it would be all ignored by Murphy who was almost running down to the end.

The clear plexiglass wall that separated the trailer was a room that included a couch behind around table that faced the glass, a radio on a desk in the further wall and in the center of the floor lay a round, frayed matt As Warren inched closer, a single form became to fade into shape that grows upwards from this rug and turns into a figure that looked very much like a woman. Already standing at the glass when she's reached and Warrens jaw will drop when she's close enough to see the hew of her skin. As Murphy landed toes to the glass the two stare at each other as Warren and Hector slowed to a stop on either side. It wasn't just that the skin was blue but it was the same blue, if not darker with the dryish texture that resembled Murphy's skin. Pocketposie pulls the trio from their bewilderment with a heavy laugh that the container would use to create the sensation of rolling thunder.

"You like? No?" He nods at the woman as he lands against the wall, eyes narrowed her for a moment before turning back to Murphy and moving onto the others.

The womans hand has dropped and she watched Pocketposie as she stepped back exposing her battle scars a proof of her trials. That's about when Warren noticed her eyes.

One eye was the same orange lined cell formation that matched Murphys', a very personal trait that could not be faked but there it was. It was just her right eye as her left is full pale white eye of a zombie.

Warren would look between Murphy and Pockeyposie who would stand staring at the girl who stared at Murphy. She's only wearing a torn black shirt and very short shorts because this is what showed her wounds. Shes missing chunk from her right calf that looks healed but tainted black. Her right hand had the bottom three fingers missing, also healed. and her stomach had a few healed scar patches as did her shoulder with one in particular so close to her jugular it's amazing she surivied that at all. As she turned around, she also had three on her back.

It would be noticed that the woman who appeared in her late-twenties was also wearing a collar around her neck that had a small, green light that would flash occasionally. With a side look, Warren noticed PocketPosie held a rectangular device in his furthest hand which was when she decided she had enough of the scene and looked away, unable to keep her eyes on the clearly exploited woman. Murphy, on the other hand, couldn't look away from her, mesmerized or hypnotized, his eyes held strong.

"Ms. BiteMark was mentioned on the radio not to long ago, but I'm afraid such an agency of power got their information incorrect." PocketPosies arms were crossed now as he watched her watch Murphy, his voice rather blank.

"Incorrect?" Warren asked as her eyes were locked on the standing body before her.

"Well first, he is obviously a she and there is no way her name is Murphy." He laughed but just at the end of his laugh he landed his eyes on the blue tinted man who watched his ward so intently.

Hector looked the figure up and down again, eyes holding on her calf. "What is her name?" he asked.

"I don't know. She won't tell us. We call her QZ for short."

"Can she talk?" Warren asked.

"Yeah. She just won't." His fist clenched the device.

By now the woman would look right at Warren for the first time, then Hector, and then quicker than the rest, she passed over PocketPosie. Back to Murphy, she takes her first steps back toward the glass with a limp that matched the missing patch of flesh. Her body was clear and exposed and as she approached she only became that much more exploited in a way that even had Hector glancing off uncomfortably.

The scene of pure flesh was overwhelming even though she looked clean and in decent health. No infections, her half-shaved head had her hair pushed over on one side but the closer she got the more definite the blue of her skin became. Warren's stomach flipped as she knew and felt that just from her face that this girl was not here willingly...

"Unfortunately, a heavy bite to the achilles means she cant move extremely fast but that's no worry for her."

"Why not?" Hector asked as he looked her over again.

A small squeak and Warren turned back to the glass to see the woman's toes were to the barrier, her eyes locked with Murphy who had yet to look away though had dropped his palm.

"Press that green button will you?" PocketPosie motioned to Hector who looked at the wall next to them. There was indeed a green button and as he extended his arm, he looked at the girl behind the glass who glanced at him casually before looking back up at Murphy.

With a nod from Warren, Hector pushed the button and a door inside of the cage opened and two rather large and very thin zombies stumbled into space, spitting and grunting as they looked around. But the girl behind the glass did nothing, not even flinch. She kept her hand up, palm pressed against the glass and watching Murphy who in that moment would raise his own hand to hers and press his palm against the glass.

Everything became too real when the zombies just stumbled through the room but stopped behind her shoulders, their teeth snapping at the air and grunting angrily but doing nothing to actually attack her. This was seemingly allowed to carry on for only a minute before she closed her eyes and with that, the zombies took a step back and went about stumbling across the room as if she wasn't there.

PocketPosies laugh echoed as Murphy stood straight-faced and pale, his hand now a fist, his eyes continuing to stare down at the woman with a growing panic, not for her safety within the cage, but what could be described as a personal rare bout of personal objection. A reaction neither Warren or Hector were used to seeing from him.

...

They left quickly after that and once outside Warren would beeline it to the car where Doc and the rest were waiting with Hector picking up the back in a slight jog and Murphy at her side. Their discomfort must have been more apparent than any of them realized because the group they approached frowned the closer they got.

"Everything okay?" A very clean looking Doc asked as he rubbed a clean looking black towel behind his head and through his hair.

"No," Warren answered as they all met by the front of the car.

"What happened?" Addy asked.

"Murphy was right." Hector leaned against the side of the jeep. "There's someone in there."

"In the trailer?" Addy asked.

"Yes," Warren answered as she looked at Murphy with a look that meant a few different things that all were in regard to the unspoken situation.

"Well, what is it?" Doc asked.

"It's... Umm.." She looked at Hector before looking back at Murphy. "It's another, him."

"What?!" Addy exclaimed rather loudly, throwing down her towel.

"Yup."

"Not like Cassandra?" 10K pushed nervously as he tapped his heels against the driver's side window from his sitting position on the roof of the jeep

"No. Not like Cassandra…" Warren crossed her arms. "PocketPosie said she was injected."

"Well," Murphy asked looking around like a worried meerkat, clearly no more comfortable. "We have to do something." He announced indefinitely.

"Woah. Woah. Woah." Addy laughed. "Aren't you the guy who has at least once, left all of us behind because you're the mission? We don't have a fight here.."

"And, how do we know she's legit?" 10K asked doubtfully as he shifts his seat. "Citizen Z never mentioned another one of you."

"She passed the "zombie in the cage," test," Warren informed.

He paused, "it could have been a trick," 10K urged, looking over the heads of everyone and towards the long trailer.

"We also can't just leave her with them." Warren looked at Addy who looked away nervously and rubbed the side of her head.

"Regardless of if she is the real deal, I refuse to leave her with these men and I say we act on that if for nothing else."

"Okay." Doc shrugged after a minute of silence passed between the group. "What's the plan?"

...

With only Hector, she would approach PocketPosie. She left Murphy back at the cars with everyone else, telling him to behave and not to run off. The advice she hoped the twitchy man would follow.

"How can I help you?" The ringleader chuckles.

"Can we talk to you?" Warren asked and the smile faulted just a bit.

"Yeah, sure."

They'd walk off to the side and Warren would drop the news.

"I'd like to take, QZ."

He laughed disbelievingly. "What?"

She kept her strength and looked the man who was growing more and more grotesque with his setting in anger.

"We're going to take QZ to California."

"And what, my dear, is in California?"'

"The CDC, they're already waiting for us. They're waiting to make the cure."

He laughed again and with his laugh, his hand waved a signal to those they didn't know.

"No." He was suddenly very serious.

He turned away and into Hector who shook his head. "You need to give us the girl, senior." He advised calmly, "We don't want to do any of this."

"Well, you can take her when I'm dead. Hows that?"

"I'm sorry that's your choice." Warren sighed sadly, bring the man's attention slowly back to her.

Warren nodded slowly, and from behind her, she pulls a smoke bomb whose wick is sparking threateningly.

...

Murphy ducked around the gunshots and kept himself down and behind the tents as he made his way closer and closer to the trailer. There would be security waiting of course, but nothing a simple bite couldn't fix or a shot couldn't handle, especially with 10K ordered to watch his back. Out of breath and out of sight, had made it to the front of the truck and as he climbed over the bodies, he opened the door using the keys he'd taken from a bitten carnie who handed them over nicely after he asked for them. Climbing over the bed, he pushed open the back door which, once he found the latch, was easy to open.

"Hey" He called out into the plexiglass walled space. "Come on. We're getting you out of here."

Nothing.

"You have to come with me!" He urged as he entered the shipping container.

Quickly, he moved around the small room but it wasn't until coming behind the couch would his steps stop instantly as he looked down. She was so limp as she lay, and the way she positioned made it look like she had been dumped and hadn't moved since.

"Come on." He tried. "You have to get up."

Her head shook no before her eyes tightened up.

"What?!" He dropped to a crouch. "Why not?"

"They," Her voice sounded quite faded and when she couldn't say anything else, her right arm limped out and turned upwards showing him the red, still bloody injection sight. "Protocol."

Her eyes were so heavy but he could hear her sarcasm and saw her missing fingered hand give a lazy wave. He gives a small laugh as her lips crack into a weak smile as he nods his head. A loud and very close round of automatic shooting was heard and Murphy stood up and looked around.

"Okay. I'm going to.. Just…" He slid his arms under her and lift her surprisingly light frame up and into his arms. Maybe it was the zombie ability, maybe she was just very underweight. Either seemed plausible but his mind was on other things, like getting them both to the truck.

"Wait," She huffed in his ear as he lowered her onto the driver's seat of the cab.

"What?" He froze.

"There's... a group of zombies. In the second trailer. If...if you get that open you can push them over and create a distraction."

He looked out the door than back and the heavy-lidded woman. "Okay..?" He said uncertainly.

"Leave me. Get to the trailer. Release and push out the zombies. Come back for me.."

"Right." They looked at each other as he nodded his head and she used what she could, to pull herself upright into the driver's seat as Murphy crawled out the passenger side and closed the door behind him.

Breathing heavily, she tried to keep awake but failed miserably, losing the battle against her drooping eyelids.

...

She had been right, and there hadn't been a lock on the trailer so when he lift up the sliding door he smiled when he lay his eyes on 8 or 9 zombies just standing there, making weak noises and staring into the dark.

"Guys!" Murphy snapped, gaining their attention, "Go!"

It was quite a pathetic walk, but just then a carnie ran by and one of the faster, probably hungriest zombies struck out and with a trip over his outstretched leg, the clown fell and was quickly devoured.

"The rest of you, go!"

Murphy would watch them go out into the battlefield, knowing damn well he couldn't control who the mindless attacked in this situation and would pass a thought of hope for his group to get out safely. He, on the other hand, had one more stop before he could leave and back to the truck he turned, staying outside the gate and ducking behind tents as he went. He had turned the corner around the front of the truck when he froze and met eyes with PocketPosie who stood with his handgun against the head of the limp woman who he had pulled from the cab.

"Quick question." The ringleader asked as Murphy let out a growl that came from deep within his chest. "Is she, like you? Are you the Murphy?"

"Let her go." He ordered

The gun was cocked with a click. "YOU, are The Murphy, eh? Well, hows this?" He stepped out of the way of the open truck door and pressed the gun harder into the girls head so that she winced. "Get into the truck."

"No." He mocked the obviousness of his answer.

"Get into the truck."

"No," Murphy said simply, giving a shrug.

"Get into the truck or I will fucking kill her!"

That would be the last that the Ringmaster would ever say. A skilled shot by 10K sent a bullet through the man's head which limped his wrist. When he fell so would she, but he would catch her and would pull her from the grasp of the man whose eyes stared into the nothing of death. With a sharp swooping motion, she was in his arms again and he was running towards the big black truck that drove at him.

...

From the open bed of the truck, Murphy watched the firelit carnival as they drove away from the sight. He was not alone, Addy sat on one side, and Doc sat on the other and the woman who was still unnamed, and whose blue skin was so much like his lay against his chest and in his arms, asleep and far away from the world around her. His arms held tight around her stomach but the rest of him was limp as he looked around the barren farm fields. At one point early on, Doc had covered her already shivering body with a blanket. He had covered her with his long coat as Addy used her scarf and leather jacket on top of that. A sudden loud explosive bang brings the back of the truck to flinch but even this won't wake her, and he promises himself not to look at the two who keep staring him as if he had their answers.

"Is she okay?" Doc finally asked.

"She's drugged. She'll sleep it off."

It wouldn't matter what he said or how uncaringly he said it, his actions had already explained everything for the group and Doc would fall back against the wall of the bed with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Alright then."

"Are you okay?" Addy asked, and Murphy would pass her a mixed look between disgusted and insulted.

It would be about an hour down the road when Murphy would finally relax his jaw and had been resting with his eyes closed and his head bent back against the cold metal when a knock to his legs woke him up.

"What?" He looked down first and the woman was still asleep and then outside the walls to see the van was parked on the side of a thin, forest walled road.

Warren was standing next to him and when he noticed her so close, he flinched as a small smile that was sitting on her lips immediately put him on edge.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing. I'm just checking in. How is she?"

"She's fine." He answered confidently.

"Sleeping a lot."

"Drugged." He answered shortly as he tried to find something interesting in the forest to look at.

She stared at him before she nodded her head, "Okay." She pats his shoulder and changed her expression to one that he understood, but sighed and rolled his eyes away from.

"Stop." He grumbles.

"I didn't say anything." She turned to Doc and Addy. "We're going to keep driving at least another hour before we hit a town. We'll find a place to hunker down there."

"Sounds good." Addy nodds.

"When's dinner?" Doc asked just as she turned to head back to the jeep.

Warren looked around, "Umm." She motioned for Hector, who was driving the truck to hand her some packaged food and a set of blankets from the back seat that she passed to the three awake in the bed along with a supply of water.

"Watch over her, okay?" She landed a heavy hand on him. "We'll aim for a good camp."

"Okay." He agreed with a head nod of his own, and for the first time, he felt not alone in a world so evil.

His grip on her tightened as the truck started back up, destined for the closest spot they could call safe for the night. There were many questions that needed to be answered, some investigating to do, and as Warren drove she thought about Citizen Z and this blue woman in the back of the truck who slept against what could quite possibly be her antidote holding counterpart.