(Update: 3/6/2019 - This chapter has been revamped)

(Optional: Read in dark font with any instrumental soundtrack you see fit.)

(Content warning: This season will have themes of abuse in multiple chapters.)

It seemed like Dora's plans aligned with Arne's desire to be reunited with his son, but her true priority was getting her family as far away from New York City by whatever means necessary. From what could be heard on the radio, New York City was already under siege with thousands of reanimated and counting—in just a matter of days. The state was now considered a red zone, and anyone lucky enough to make it through NYC alive deserved to be awarded notoriety. The drive was a long one. What started off as a labyrinth through augmented traffic eventually smoothed out into an easy drive on the freeway. Arne drove all the way until sunup, whereas Ada happily took over for Carlos since his last few days in New York City granted him with no sleep; just worries. She was unlicensed but was a fairly good driver for someone with not much experience. Her only flaw was slamming the brakes too hard and causing the minivan to jerk abruptly. While cruising behind Arne's lead, she could see the United States border swipe right past them on the opposite side of the freeway, but once Arne came to a steady stop at the Canadian border, Ada had no choice but to do the same—it just wasn't steady. The tires screeched.

Slightly reclined, Carlos jumped up from his snooze.

Ada delivered a light tap to his thigh,

"Are you awake?"

"What do you expect when you slam the brakes like that?" He yawned.

"They stopped," she informed, ignoring his comment.

Carlos peered through one opened eye and looked towards the skies, surprised that the sun had already risen. He glanced at the digital clock,

"7:07 AM?" He read aloud.

Parked at a good distance from Arne's truck, Ada exited the minivan and made sure to take the car keys with her. Just as she was approaching them, Arne and Dora exited the car. Arne announced that they had run into an obvious problem. From what it appeared, every lane at the Canadian border had been obstructed by a build-up of cars. Slightly side-tracked, Dora walked around to the driver's side and rested her palms on Ada's bare shoulders,

"Why don't you put something warm on, Adaline?"

"With what mom?" Ada asked, obviously annoyed by her mom's random overbearing parenting.

"Doesn't Carlos have a sweatshirt he can give you?"

Ada scoffed and brought her attention back to Arne, who also somewhat had a look of disbelief on his face as well. Now wasn't the time to be worrying about Ada getting chilly. Ada walked a little past him and rested her palm on the warm hood of his military Humvee. As soft breezes blew through her hair, she looked around and noticed that one of the lanes on the far right had the least line of cars; two actually. Taking initiative, Ada cautiously wandered off. Dora immediately became concerned as her daughter walked off to examine the cars. Calling her daughter's name a couple of times, she wanted nothing more than to inquire what her motives were. Purposely ignoring her, Ada carefully made her way through other stalled vehicles and approached the cars she had her sights set on. The closer she got, the clearer a faint beeping sound became. She tucked her hair behind her ears, slightly peering in through the rear windows of the last, parked car in the said lane. Gazing through, she noticed nothing but an empty booster seat and some used bottles of water. Deciding to move on the next car parked in front, she realized that the driver's door was left slightly open, officially making it the source of the beeping. Haven't walked beside it yet, a familiar smell was still capable of abusing Ada's sense of smell. Reassuming the same safety stance as before, Ada gazed in from behind the car. From what she could observe, she saw a head full of long, dark hair in the passenger's seat. She stood straight and took a deep breath, finally looking back over at her mother and Arne who was watching her with closeness, but from a distance that only made the top of Ada's body somewhat visible.

"Why'd she stop?" Dora whispered as she panicked.

"Don't know," Arne answered unsurely, keeping his eyes pinned on Ada.

Ada swallowed, bracing herself for what possibly could ensue. She crept towards the driver's side and examined through the window at a safe distance, noticing small signs such as the maximum pull of the seat belt and a shoe left behind. What could it mean? Signs of struggle? She wasn't sure. As she got closer and opened the door, she was still surprised by the sight of the dark-haired figure, especially by the screwdriver driven in her left eye. She was buckled in and it was obvious that had been reanimated before her second life was ended. She was eerily frozen in a position where her pale head was tilted upward at the sunroof of the battered car. Around her lips had marks of blood, indicating that she gave a bite before it was greeted by its demise. The young New Yorker's eyes wandered around the car, making her give a double-take at the keys still in the ignition. Giving a couple of steady breaths, she slowly reached in for it while keeping her eye on the dead woman at all costs.

"What are you doing, Ada?" She heard Dora ask, raising her voice to a non-alarming volume.

Unable to avoid breathing heavily, Ada safely removed the jingling key from the ignition. Barely holding it with just two fingers, it was easier than she thought. While the upper-half of her body was still inside of the car, she turned back to reply,

"There's keys in here!"

"Keys?" She heard Arne repeat.

No more than a second after what sounded like gurgled snarls, the dark-haired reanimated reached forward and grabbed Ada's wrist. Ada began to scream, shrieking and shaking wildly as the reanimated tightly held on to her. Being in the position that she was in, made it a lot harder for Ada to fight back. Arne immediately took off with Dora following after him. The soldier ran a lot quicker than she did but the determination had no comparison. Just as he decided to squeeze through two stable vehicles, a reanimated with a missing shoe popped out from behind a truck. Arne, taken by surprise quickly moved to the side and took a misstep. He tripped and fell to the pavement as the reanimated stumbled and dove right on top of him. Arne immediately placed his arm up and caught the reanimated at a position where he could keep it at a safe distance from his face. Being only recently infected, the reanimated still possessed much strength. Arne yelled and grunted, struggling as the heavyset reanimated snapped and gnashed at his nose. From where he was pinned, he saw Dora arm herself with a blade and swoop in from behind. She raised the reanimated's head by lifting the back of its collar like a noose around the throat. Just like last time, her arm teetered up and down multiple times. From the observation of others, it might be easy, but it took a lot of you and out of you to kill a walking corpse, even if they were no longer human. There was something extremely unsettling about it. Even destroying the soulless had capabilities of deforming your own.

"Dora!" Arne yelled.

Finally, she granted the first and final stab at the base of its neck. With the intention of cutting off the brainstem, the reanimated dropped lifelessly. Arne looked up at Dora, stunned as she released the reanimated and quickly moved on to save her daughter next. He was prompted to push the empty shell off of him and follow after her.

Still trapped in the car, Ada continuously yelled, fearful of the woman's witch-like face and pastel eyes. She wanted to yank her arm away but something in her mind made her theorize that a potential scratch or scrape resulted in something just as bad as a bite. Although Ada was still scared shitless, her screams became reserved, seeing that screaming had no part in helping. Her eyes engaged with the situated screwdriver once again. She reached up to grab it but her error was moving too gently. The reanimated snapped at her, almost taking a good chomp of her fingers. She instantly started shrieking again and jumped back, only to be reminded that she was being leashed at the wrist. Preparing herself by taking rapid breaths, she lifted her hand and screamed while thrusting her palm forward at the bum of the embedded tool. As the screwdriver impaled further into reanimated's eye, Ada could feel it puncture the massive organ in its head and tap the surface inside its skull. The hold on her wrist loosened but remained closed. Carefully, Ada loosened each digit at a time and backed out of the car as Dora closed in behind her,

"You okay?" Arne asked, quickly catching up.

"Yeah…" Ada nodded, unable to look them in the eye. She caught her breath, "I'm fine."

Dora checked her skin for marks. She reassured that she was unharmed for the last time, not wanting her embarrassing situation to hold them up any longer. Sure, she was afraid but she had to put that aside for the group as a whole. Dora wasn't ready to let it go just as yet but had no choice due to her daughter's passiveness. Ultimately, Ada went right back into devising a plan. Even Arne was left a little stunned, believing that, despite it not happening to him, he still needed to some time to process what happened. Since they now obtained the keys to the first vehicle, someone had to remove it by driving it through the toll. Ada theorized that since Arne's truck was most durable, he could use his humvee to push the final car—vehicle 2—from behind,

"I'll just hotwire it," Arne suggested.

Ada suspiciously looked at him for a couple of seconds before responding,

"You know how to hotwire a car?" She asked, somewhat impressed although it was wasn't something to admire.

"They teach that in the military?" Dora confirmed through a question.

"Uh, let's just say I wasn't the kinda kid like Ada or Jolyn when I was teen," he glanced away, "Usually, a lot of people who join the military are people with not-so-great pasts.'

Dora and Ada realized they may have stumbled onto thin ice. Like mother, like daughter, they essentially gave the same reaction and swept it under the rug. Both understood that it wasn't something he was prepared to open up about just yet. Suddenly, Ada passed him the keys without warning and walked past him and wrapped her arm within her mother's,

"Have fun," she wished.

"Wait," Arne caught it with unpreparedness, "What about the dead lady in the seat? We gotta move it, don't we?" Arne asked, indirectly requesting a helping hand.

"Isn't that a man's job?" Dora teased.

"I'm gonna let that one slide. Only because you saved me…" Arne ingenuously smirked back.

Honestly, she just didn't want to get her hands on other reanimated and she'd be damned if she were going to let her daughter go near that hellish thing again. They both turned away and Dora pulled Ada closely, obviously proud of her daughter's quick wit and wellbeing. Bouncing shoulders as they walked, she ran her hand along the surface of her daughter's hair before giving her a smooch on the cheek,

"I'm so glad, you're okay," she happily expressed.

They both walked towards Arne's truck. Walking on the passenger's side, they passed by the backseat windows and momentarily looked at Emberly, sleeping on Jolyn's shoulder. Jolyn still had on his hospital gown with the addition of his jeans. He was looking out of the other window, looking the most miserable and astray his family had ever seen him. His eyes were red with engraved bags that nearly touched the corners of his lips. It wasn't apparent but the women in his family were becoming extremely worried. Ada pulled her mother further away from the car to talk privately with her. She crossed her arms to maintain a little warmth,

"Looks like he just woke up. Do we tell him what just happened...?" Ada asked.

"No. It's better he doesn't know that right now."

"Did he...did he say anything in the car?"

"No..." Dora answered.

Ada exhaled, almost as if she were going to have a nervous breakdown,

"Mom, he's been like this for almost week now..."

"Look," Dora calmly rested her hand on Ada's shoulder, "This is a lot for all of us to take in, okay? And we're all experiencing and going through it differently. All he needs is some space and for us to be there for him."

Suddenly, Arne interrupted as if he had been overhearing what they were saying. Arne walked in from behind, already having moved car 1. All that was left was some tools to hotwire the second car and they'd be on their merry way to Montreal. Luckily, Carlos' car was passed down from his father, who was formerly a maintenance man. Snoring, Carlos was startled awake once again, but by three hard knocks on his window. He looked over, unlocked the door and comfortably resting his eyes once again. Ada opened the door herself, having already chosen to keep her predicament a secret. She wanted to avoid any type of widespread worry and from the looks of it, it seemed to be working in her favor. Things were going smoothly so far.

"Hey, is it cool if we use your dad's toolbox to hotwire a car?" Ada pointed back at the navy vehicle.

Carlos mumbled some inarticulate sounds and performed some meaningless hand motions. Hesitantly, she closed the door, hoping that it was some type of permission. She circled the minivan and retrieved the relatively weighty toolbox and held it with both hands. She delivered it to Arne, who later clarified that all he needed was a hammer and screwdriver.

Unable to get into the locked car, Arne had to force his way in by breaking the window with his elbow, giving it two mighty blows. As the glass shattered, everyone naturally looked around, hoping that it didn't alarm anything in the area. Figuring that it would come in handy during a time like this, Ada sat in the passenger's seat and examined Arne's hotwiring skills. Steps included injecting a screwdriver into the ignition to start the system, taking the steering wheel apart, and cutting & cross-connecting wires to start up the motor. Once the motor finally commenced, Arne reversed the car into a no-driving lane on the freeway, ultimately clearing the path. Meanwhile, everyone else slept, Dora, Ada, and Arne were elated that they managed to work together and remove the vehicles. Now, all that was left for Ada to do was to return Mr. Sanchez's toolbox and hit the road once again. Casually walking back to the minivan, she returned the toolbox in its proper place and slammed the trunk shut. Not even taking two steps to the driver's side, a random figure sprang out from behind and pointed a gun against Ada's head. She squealed,

"Shut up," the strange voice whispered sharply, "Shut up or I'll splatter your brains all over this back of this car."

Carlos, who was slightly disturbed by the slamming of the trunk, looked up in at the rearview mirror and instantly climbed out of the car. Once he realized that the stranger was armed, he raised his hands into the air. The armed stranger and Ada were now on the passenger's side, in the open for everyone to see. Dora, who had just comfortably climbed back into the truck with Arne looked through her side mirror and also witnessed the altercation,

"Shit!" she swore.

Just as he was preparing to drive off, Arne watched her frantically unfasten her seat belt,

"What? You forgot something?"

"It's Ada!"

Once Dora exited the Humvee, Arne looked through the rear-view mirror and was caught by total surprise. He grabbed his M4 carbine resting beside his left leg and also exited the vehicle. Attempting to sneak around. The stranger grabbed a handful of Ada's hair, rotated his wrist and tugged it. She winced, having a faint gasp escape her lips,

"Uh-uh-uh! I see you!" the gunman said, referring to Arne. He gripped her hair tighter, "Put your gun down and place it on the ground where I can see it!" He hissed.

Arne walked out into the open with his firearm pointed. But all it took was a pled from Dora's eyes for him to obey. He presented it with opened palms and slowly rested the assault rifle on the pavement. With her daughter being in harm's way for the second time today, Dora stopped walking, afraid that another step would be all it took for him to pull the trigger. She reached out with her palm,

"Please, let her go," Dora begged.

"What do you want?" Carlos asked, standing within the closest range.

"The car. No one has to die. Just give me the keys to the car. I'll drive away and we can pretend this never happened."

"Give him the keys, Ada," Carlos said.

"Let go of my hair," Ada panted, with tears running out of the corners of her eyes.

"I don't really think you're in a position to give orders!" The gunman said into her ear.

His morning breath sent tingling chills down her spine. However, Ada listened. She slowly unclenched her fist, having the keys fall to the ground. Telling her not to move, the gunman had no choice but to free his hand to quickly grab the keys. He stood back up and pressed the gun against her back,

"Do you have anything on you?" The man began to inappropriately frisk Ada, touching parts of her body that not even Carlos was allowed to touch without consent, "Cute girl," he snickered as he regained his composure, keeping his eyes on her.

Dora fell sick to her stomach, wanting more than anything to have her daughter in her arms. As the stranger studied her figure from behind, it was apparent on Ada's face that she had reached a breaking point. Carlos shook his head, recognizing a look that consisted of folding her lips inward,

"Don't, Ada…" he muttered.

"What'd you say?!" The gunman shouted at Carlos. He walked closer to Ada, pressing the gun against her back once again, "Shut the f—"

Ada looked over Carlos' shoulder, seeing her mother a couple of feet behind him. Examining her mother's body language, Dora repeatedly patted her right thigh with her right palm. As hectically as she did it, Ada felt that it was a cryptic message with the intention to save her life. Being that her arms were already spread out from her initial surrender, Ada swiftly rotated her body to the left and swiftly used the back of left forearm to forcefully shove the gunman's wielding arm to the side. Now facing his direction, she immediately rushed forward, hurling her right elbow in his face. It left him dazed. She locked his arm along her chest. And while having seize of his arm, She heavily kneed him in the groin, which caused him to further bend over; thus allowing her to snatch the gun by the barrel. Just for perks, she kneed him once again in the chest in hopes of injuring him further. As he inched away in pain, Ada powerfully swung her right arm back, cracking him across the face with the grip of the obtained handgun. He faltered to the side and crashed to the ground. Finally seeing him face to face, he looked like a very unappealing creep with the addition of a bruised face. He had graying hairs, thick round glasses, and a receded hairline. Of course, he wore a trench coat to match.

Carlos prepared to follow up with a bunch of blows next, but he was restrained by Ada, who was struggling to hold his powerful rages back. Quickly, Dora and Arne jumped in to assist. Ada objected, telling him to leave him for the dead.

If he hadn't counted his blessings before, now was the time. The man was luckily given the chance to recover and escape. Immediately, he got up and began dashing towards the opposite direction as quickly as he could. As he ran, reanimated began to pop out from behind the stalled vehicles, seconds away from grabbing hold of him. Being released into the modern wild was a far better punishment than being dealt with right then and there.

"I'll kill you!" Carlos roared after him, shaking in anger as he yelled, "YOU HEAR ME?!"

Ada rested her palm on his chest, attempting to calm him down since he was prepared to run all the way back to Vermont for her. Dora ran in from the side, thanking God and hugging her daughter. Although things could have taken a turn for the worst, she was relieved that she had enough prowess as a fighter to stop it from ever getting to that point. Never having used a gun before, Ada held in her palm. Looking back at the three pairs of eyes, she searched them all for an answer. Finally, Dora looked over at Arne, who seemed to be the most capable of dealing with firearms.

"Why don't you take it?" Ada asked her mother.

"I'm not ready for that yet," Dora admitted, shaking her head.

The unfavorable reaction to the gun was telling, yet understandable. So Arne took the gun and studied it. As much as he could grasp that city-folk weren't more than tech-savvy, he couldn't promise them that they'd never have to touch a gun again. Both Dora and Arne turned away and walked back to the truck. After Ada and Carlos climbed back into their own van, Dora turned and looked into the backseat—Emberly was wide awake with her head buried in her thermal top, having tears stream down her face. Dora knew that she had just seen everything, and she felt ashamed of that. She empathized with her, knowing that anyone would become fearful for a family member in that situation. But overall, Dora's main worry was that Emberly was also no longer safe. Without the skills that the others possessed, what could it mean for her? As the truck began moving, she faced forward and closed her eyes, mumbling another prayer.

As much as they didn't want to believe it, the infection has crossed over into the borders of Canada as well. This was especially frightening to Dora because she was now concerned on the state of her home island which, at first, seemed to be uncontaminated. Remembering there weren't many signs of the infection the moment it showed up in America, she was afraid that it might have changed since then. The reception for mobile phones had failed, therefore making it impossible to contact anyone in America, much less overseas. Dora grew immensely anxious because of this, not ever thinking that she would want nothing more but to hear the healing voices of her siblings, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, and two of her oldest offspring.

Following Arne's lead, the unofficial group finally made it into Montreal where, unlike New York City, it was sparsely populated. It was catastrophic nonetheless but there was a slight difference in the atmosphere. Montreal was a city but overall felt a lot less suffocated. The landscape was far more visible compared to the metropolitans in New York City. The only thing on a similar level was the infrastructure. The roads, however, weren't much competition, having plenty of potholes that nearly caused tore apart the bottom of a vehicle. The most notable landmark in Montreal was the Jacques Cartier Bridge, which carried them all into the city of Montreal. After a twenty-minute drive, Arne turned into an appealing suburb he claimed his son and ex-wife lived in. From the looks of it, there was no trace of military and the neighborhood was seemingly absent of civilians-there was a lack of vibrancy and everything felt bleak. Arne pulled up in front of a nice home that resembled many of the beautiful architected homes in the upper-class neighborhood. In the midst of fawning over the prosperous community, Dora was surprised to see Arne leave the vehicle so suddenly without warning. Once he realized that his ex-wife's home entrance had been left wide open, he insensibly pushed past the door and began searching every room on the first level. The bedrooms came afterward. He pushed on Hunter's bedroom door, accidentally knocking his head into it after a sudden mass from behind blocked it from opening all the way. Using all of his strength, Arne forced the door to open further and squirmed his way through, spotting a dresser on the other side. He was presented with flashy posters of superheroes and feature films, alluring electronics, and scattered action figures all over the carpet. Looking over, Arne saw a covered figure on the mattress.

"Hunter?!" Arne gasped, running to pull off the covers, "Hunter, it's daddy!"

As he yanked the comforter to the floor, he was surprised by a scruffy looking gentleman with a stained beige overcoat and torn khakis, who looked more perplexed than he did. Arne became momentarily stunned and the first thing he decided to do was unhinge. He aggressively hauled the squatter who was settled in his son's bedroom. Arne grabbed him by the coat and violently drew him from the bed and pinned him up against the wall, knocking over a fragile lamp and other items over,

"Where's my son!?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about…" the man trembled.

"THE FAMILY THAT LIVED HERE, WHERE ARE THEY?!" Arne roared before lifting his fist.

"Arne!" A voice grabbed his attention.

Arne looked over at the doorway, partially making out Dora behind the door. Arne returned his tormented gaze back at the stranger and released him, allowing him to land back on his feet. He took a couple of steps back in a state of mental and physical enervation.

"Get out of here or I'll kill you…" Arne mumbled before shoving the dresser out of the way.

The squatter squeezed through the door, more than positive that Arne would absolutely keep his promise if he got the chance. Surprisingly, no reanimated managed to make their way into the said home of Arne's ex-wife. After Arne's confrontation with the intruder, he was encouraged by the Chadwell family to offer the strange man a place to stay because he'd only be setting him up with his fate. Jolyn and Emberly didn't have much of a say but the rest of the party defended the stranger, claiming that they too would've done the same thing if they were in his shoes. It took loads of convincing but Arne bogusly submitted to the tiring request of his new acquaintances. But due to wanting to maintain their safety and due to the indirect animosity towards the stranger, the nameless man was allowed to get comfortable in the house's upstairs bathroom. But just for that night only—anywhere else was off-limits.

It had been nearly a day since anyone had last gotten rest. Since the electricity was also out in Canada also, Arne managed to find some candles in the attic. He lit them all over the house with the participation of Dora, who loved candles and sure as hell got a kick out of exploring the fancy house. Eventually, everyone converged and planned to rest in the living room. No matter how tired others claimed to be, the faintest of sound from outside was enough to startle them awake.

Arne's mentality as a father and soldier just wouldn't allow him to get a decent night's rest. He opened his eyes for the seventh time that night, feeling that he could serve himself and the rest as a useful overseer. He sat up from the rocking chair and looked around the room, noticing something a little off about his surroundings. But quite unable to put his finger on it, Arne cautiously moved on. Having removed most of his army attire, he walked around in a green t-shirt. He got up and took a stroll around the house to clear his mind and possibly reminisce about the times he used to visit his son. As he walked into the kitchen, Arne heard some strange sounds coming from the next room over. It was probably the squatter and Arne would be unhappy about that. He tromped into the next room over—the dining room from what he could remember. The large room was barely lit by the sole candle that was placed at the edge of the dinner table. As Arne walked in, he saw a short silhouette looking through one of the windows in the room. Frightened by his intruding stomps, the figure jumped and let out a high-pitched gasp. They turned around, pressing their back against the window, feeling ambushed by Arne's shadow alone.

"Mr. Rogers?" Emberly made sure.

"Oh. Hi," Arne responded calmly, hopefully, to mellow himself and Emberly. He looked around, trying to act as if the situation wasn't already creepy enough, "What are you doing up so late?"

Emberly fiddled with her fingers before answering. It was dark, so she couldn't be seen crying. She raised her arm and dried her cheeks with her sleeves,

"I couldn't sleep," Emberly confessed.

Her stomach growled afterward, thinking that maybe hunger could change the outcome of this situation. Arne went ahead and searched the kitchen and it looked as though his ex-wife had gone shopping for a couple of items before she had fled the place. There was fresh milk and unopened cartons of juice. He poured Emberly a cold bowl of Cheerios and decided it would be best to accompany her for a late night snack. He gave her a pretty, pale blue colored bowl that was drastically smaller than his own. Immediately, they both dived into it. Emberly thanked him. As she sat at the end, Arne sat close to her. It became awfully quiet between the two of them, hearing nothing but the clinking of their spoons, soft chews, and swallows. Neither one of them could be blamed though, a fascinating discussion between a middle school student and a military soldier was revolutionary but ultimately far-fetched. Arne understood that Emberly was only a child and that meanwhile this entire anomaly was having an effect on both of them, it was undoubtedly more frustrating and rigorous for her. Although they might not have been able to identify with one another, Arne came to a realization that he had made a crucial decision when running away with this family. And as harsh as it sounded, he was stuck with Emberly. He thought logically and eventually came to the conclusion that he should treat Emberly no different than he would his own son. The first step was just getting to know her,

"How old are you, Emberly?" Arne asked, putting a spoonful of Cheerios in his mouth.

"Eleven," she answered.

By the tone of her voice, it was evident she was uncomfortable for various reasons. She could barely lift her eyes from her bowl. As saddening as it was seeing her in such a depressed state, Arne could understand. He planned to avoid questions that would make her think too much of her personal life before all of this happened,

"Why were you looking out that window?" Arne asked, trying to make conversation.

Emberly looked over, staring directly at the window to her right. As Arne's gaze followed, he noticed four reanimated aimlessly wandering around the backyard of the home. Just then, one tripped over something and laid in the grass a couple of minutes before attempting to get up. It was vastly intriguing, considering how the adult and child stared at the corpse like an ongoing experiment,

"Why are they like that? What happened to them?" Emberly finally asking something open-ended.

"I wish I knew."

"They freak me out. Back in New York, one tried to attack me...and..." she began admitting as her voice cracked. She remembered Aunt Joy and the neighbor who helped her back in New York City. She frowned and looked into her lap, not wanting to be seen crying in front of a total stranger.

Arne swallowed. As much as he kept telling himself that he was being reminded of his son, it was something far deeper than that. He blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back tears of his own,

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid," He supported, having her briefly look up at him. He felt a lot of pressure, having never felt this emotional for a child he barely knew. He swallowed, "They scare me too."

"Really?" Emberly sniffed.

She was surprised that a man of Arne's profession was capable of that. He seemed so fearless and always remained level-headed.

"Yes," Arne simply put, "But we're smarter than them. We move faster, climb higher, and can be stronger. They—" Arne pointed at the window, "They can't."

"Not until they bite you..." Emberly added pessimistically.

It was one of those moments where it left you lacking with a proper response,

"They won't. Not if you let them," he thought quickly.

Arne's words may not have had a deep enough meaning to Emberly but it was something to take with her wherever she went. She continued to eat the rest of her cereal. Considering that Arne had already finished a bowl that was twice her bowl's size, she revealed that she was also a very slow eater. It was strange to admit, but speaking with Emberly had done more alleviating for him than it did for her. Maybe it had to do with his background, having dedicated his life to inspire and protect people, including the youth. Finally, once Emberly had finished her food, she sat at the table shaking her leg impatiently throughout the rest of their untensed conversation. As it turned out, Emberly had to use the restroom. Arne knew his boundaries and believed that it wasn't his place, so he recommended that she wake up one of the women for assistance. Although she already planned to, Emberly did exactly that and woke up Dora. Dora got herself together, wanting to use the lavatory as well. Being easily shaken by the shuffling, Ada woke up and decided to join them. Emberly led them through the kitchen where Arne was washing their bowls,

"Hey, Arne," Dora greeted, "Where's your bathroom?"

Arne quickly finished up and retrieved a key from one of the cabinets in the house. He led Dora and the girls into a hallway that led to a closed door. Thinking that it would reveal a bathroom it revealed stairs instead-stairs that descended into a dark basement. Standing behind Dora, Emberly peered from behind in absolute silence,

"There are two other doors down there. The black door is the boiler room and the other is the bathroom," Arne explained.

Arne handed Dora a flashlight and even though they were all hesitant to go down, he reminded that aside from the house being empty from the moment they stepped in, the basement door remained locked at all times—so it was impossible for anything to be in the basement. Better safe than sorry, she equipped herself with Jolyn's knife and carefully walked down. As she beamed the light around the pitch darkness, she noticed a leather couch, a foosball table, a pool table, and a small bar. It was essentially a game room. Damn, how rich were these people? Was all Dora could think whenever she stumbled into a new room.

Ada watched her mother from atop of the stairs, seeing her point the light around various places from where she stood,

"See anything?" Arne precautioned.

"It looks clear..." Dora tried to look behind places she missed, "Sounds clear too. Alright, you guys can come down."

Emberly nervously looked up at Arne as he held the door open. She took a couple of steps forward but found it nearly impossible to go any further. She heard Aunt Dora speaking but her drifting mind couldn't make out the words. The more she stared, she envisioned a body suddenly appearing at the bottom. It snarled with its head dislodged to the side. As dark as it was, the figure was clearly her Aunt Joy. Emberly stumbled backward and hooted once Ada grabbed her shoulders. She resistively shoved herself away, backing up until everyone was in her sights,

"Emberly…?" Ada crept forward.

"I don't wanna go."

"What's wrong?" Dora hollered, aiming the flashlight up the stairs,

Arne studied Emberly's odd behavior and looked back at Dora,

"One minute," he tossed back down to her.

Emberly staunchly crossed her arms,

"I just don't want to go down there. I don't want to go into the basement!"

It took nothing more for Ada to understand the source of Emberly's fear. Hearing her, she repressed her initial reaction,

"Just come on down, there's nothing down here!" Dora tried to encourage.

"I can hold it! I'll hold it instead!"

"Child! Just get down here," Dora said, slightly irritated by her nieces whining.

Back home, Emberly could act spoiled at times thanks to Michael's babying, but this wasn't that. Dore was simply misinterpreting it.

"Mom," Ada growled lowly. She turned and glared at her, "It's fine. You go ahead and use the bathroom. I'll take care of her."

Arne awkwardly stood silently in the middle of their quarrel as Ada elegantly defended her cousin, clearly knowing something that neither he and Dora didn't. While Dora continued, Ada looked up at Arne and asked if there was another bathroom.

"It's upstairs. But that...bum is sleeping in there."

Ada gave a deadpan look,

"Arne, this house is bigger than half the houses on our block. I know there's more than two bathrooms."

Arne eventually gave in and revealed that there were bathrooms in both his ex-wife's and son's bedroom. It was easier for Emberly to remember, so she led Ada to Hunter's room and decided to take care of business there. As the girls walked off, Arne looked back down at Dora, who hadn't moved an inche.

"Can you come down here?" Dora sighed, "I didn't mean to start any type of fuss, I just didn't want to be down here alone."

Everyone was wide awake the following evening, having all gotten a decent night's rest. To start the day off, they all served themselves some healthy bowls of cereal. Cheerios, Honey Nut Chex, or Froot Loops with cold milk. Being the desperate father that he was, the last thing on Arne's generous mind was the limitation of food. Every seat at the table was filled, just as the room was with chatter. Dora looked around the table, thinking that a time like this was impossible to ever have. She looked over at Jolyn, who became an onlooker at the dinner table,

"Are you enjoying your food?" Dora purposely asked, almost as if he were a child.

Almost in unison the entire table paused and looked over at him. Jolyn, slightly annoyed by his mother's smothering, nodded without showing much of his face. He forced a smile that only lasted for a split second. He still had not uttered a word from the moment he was retrieved from the infirmary. At first, Dora was afraid that the injury might have made him permanently unstable but Arne identified it as a form of PTSD mutism. It was something he saw with of war veterans. Jolyn functioned as he normally did. He could hear and he was completely responsive; he just didn't speak like before. Needless to say, the room became painfully mute as well. Carlos, released Ada's hand, having finished half of his bowl. He thanked everyone, especially Arne, for the alleviating gathering but exited the dining room to have some time alone. Ada watched him depart, knowing there was a type of guilt behind his exit. As unfair as it sounded, if anyone should feel guilty about Jolyn's current condition, it should be their mother. Glancing over at Jolyn, she smiled as their eyes met,

"How's your side feeling?"

Jolyn gave a response by scrunching up his nose and giving a slight shrug. He held up his hand parallel to the table and see-sawed it, implying that it was still moderately painful. Meh. So-so. His mind could say.

"Did you change your bandage?" Ada challenged him to respond differently.

However, Jolyn nodded with ease. Although she was pleased with the answer itself, it still hurt that she couldn't get a sound out of him after thinking she could. She was in competition with everyone else and if there was anyone she wanted Jolyn to speak with first, it had to be her. In the end, her pride as a loving sibling only ended up destroyed. Everyone, except Jolyn and Emberly, left the dining room to gather in the living room. Jolyn wanted to be left alone, whereas Emberly had no choice but to finish up eating.

Standing from his seat, Jolyn slowly wandered to one of the windows that allowed the evening sunlight through its beige curtains. As much as the world changed, nature managed to retain itself in some form. Maybe those ghastly things out there were a part of nature all along? Squirrels still scavaged for nuts and flocks of birds flew overhead as if life was going on normally. However, as Jolyn looked closely at the old green gardening shed in the corner of the backyard, he recognized the same man who was cast out from Arne's home, entering it. It was clear he had nowhere else to turn, so staying in a cluttered shed was his only option. Jolyn cautiously looked over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone else was close by. He then looked over at Emberly and pressed his finger against his lips.

She stopped chewing, watching him as he sneaked another bowl of cereal for himself. She knew nothing about rationing but knew that hard times were among them and that food was no longer easy to come by. Once again, he put his index finger to his lips, which narrowed out into a troublesome smile. He searched relentlessly for something, walking back and forth to different parts of the house. Finally, Jolyn went out of sight before Emberly heard the opening of a door and seeing light emerge from a separate room and bounce into hers. Quickly getting up, she followed the sounds into the other room and the last glimpse she caught was a white door being pulled shut from the other side. Quickly Emberly ran back into the dining room and approached the window by pushing the curtains aside. She watched as Jolyn frolicked into the wide lawn of grass all while carefully trying to avoid spilling the overflowing bowl of cereal. From what she could observe, the stranger was apprehensive towards Jolyn, taken aback by this strange and nonverbal encounter. But as Jolyn held out the bowl, the stranger accepted it, obviously giving nods and smiles of gratitude. However, Emberly looked closer to the window and peered at what she thought she was imagining: Jolyn's lips were moving...or at least trying to move. But were words coming out? She couldn't tell.

Emberly smiled, amazed by her cousin's actions as she rested on the window sill, but something from the far right caught her eye. Once she looked over, she could see a reanimated corpse making its way further into the yard.

"Oh no…" she began knocking the glass, shouting his name.

Jolyn turned, having his attention successfully grabbed but was surprised to see three reanimated walking towards him and his new friend. Emberly struggled to open the jammed window even after unlocking it and the more she fought and hurt her delicate hands, the more time was being wasted. At this point, she could see another reanimated making it through the opposite side of the yard, cutting off Jolyn from safely running back inside of the house. Emberly dashed into the living room to summon the others, breaking through the stale and quiet milleu.

"What is it?" Dora closed a small bible she recently found.

"It's Jolyn! He's in the backyard! Those things are out there!"

Being the only ones present in the living room, Dora, Ada, and Carlos all jumped up from their seats. Meanwhile, Carlos and Ada followed Emberly back into the living room. Dora ran towards the front entrance to summon Arne, who was drilling locks and bolts to the door. He looked up as Dora called him from a couple of feet away and immediately explained everything to him. Wired to be ever-ready by the military, Arne grabbed the M4 that might as well have been attached to him and ran out through front entrance, taking another path from the front yard to the back.

Jolyn was clearly stricken with fear as he and the stranger were becoming cornered by the reanimated that surrounded them. One of them lifted its limp arm towards him, causing him to immediately struggle with its aggressiveness once it made contact. Its rancid breath touched Jolyn each and every time it opened its mouth. The soles of his shoes slid on the soil, as he attempted to push the reanimated back, bit by bit. The remaining three eventually wandered closer to the squatter. He looked around and grabbed a rusty shovel on the ground nearby the gardening shed and wildly swung it, hitting the nearest one in the face. The blow was enough to stun the reanimated but wasn't fatal enough. He swung the shovel once again, hitting the second reanimated in the face.

However, just in the nick of time, both Ada and Carlos emerged from the house. Ada outran her far more athletic boyfriend in bedroom slippers. Holding a Phillips screwdriver, that she nabbed, in a reverse-grip, she worked towards the reanimated that now had her brother pinned up against the side of the garden shed. As she pulled the reanimated away by the back of the neck, it immediately turned around, attempting to claw at her. Maintaining her focus through its appearance and smell, Ada grabbed hold of its throat. Quickly, Jolyn moved towards the side, giving Ada the opportunity to give the reanimated a taste of its own medicine. Instinctively, she kicked it into the side of the shed and dug the pointed end of the screwdriver through the ear of the reanimated, feeling it sink in as if she were impaling hardened wax.

"Ugh!" She grunted, yanking the screwdriver from its head.

Carlos was helping divert the attention of the three other reanimated away from the homeless fellow and was also cowering away from the pursuit of one. As he backed up, he heard a loud gunshot. Naturally jumping in fright, he looked up, seeing Arne in the distance. Looking through his scope, he fired a clear shot at the second one, immediately putting it down like an enemy in a war zone. The final reanimated, however, was hard to shoot seeing that it was chasing Ada and Jolyn around. Arne contemplated, endlessly fidgeting around with the trigger. However, he saw Ada stop running, luring the reanimated into her field. She shuffled backward, still imperfect at the act of killing a walking corpse—or killing in general. As it snarled and growled at her, she finally allowed it to get close enough where she could, once again, hold it by the throat. This time, she drove the screwdriver into its eye, feeling it puncture the brain. She aggressively pulled it out, stumbling backward before the monster could take it to the ground along with it. She was out of breath, momentarily stunned by had what just occurred. Her eyes lifted from the reanimated at her feet.

"What were you thinking?" She asked her lovable brother after embracing him.

His eyes nervously jerked away from her, unable to answer,

"Speak to me! Please!" She urged.

"H-He was bringing me food…" The squatter kindly answered for him, "It wasn't his fault. They just came so quickly."

After a long pause of uncertain looks and not knowing how to process this, Arne intervened.

"Let's talk about it inside."

Ada grabbed Jolyn's hand and somewhat dragged him back into the house, where Dora was watching over Emberly and waiting for her children in unsettlement. Once they arrived, Dora welcomed all three of the teenagers with affectionate hugs, not only proud of her son's benevolence but Ada's will to quickly adapt and Carlos' immaculate bravery.

Arne remained posted outside and watched as the squatter return to his secluded lifestyle. He was picking up the cereal from the grass, carefully dusting off each grain of cereal before dropping it back into the bowl. His tongue glossed over his top set of teeth, completely susceptible to the remorse, feeling as if he ultimately failed his duty as a serviceman.

"What's your name?" He asked.

Surprised that Arne hadn't turned his back on him, he stuttered before speaking, unable to look at the man who openly showed his loathings towards him every time their eyes met before.

"M-Merwyn. Merwyn Middleton"

"Merwyn…" Arne repeated. After sizing him up, he ashamedly looked down at the ground on his way down, "Do you, uh, have a place to sleep for the night?"

A stupid question, but he answered anyhow.

"No," Merwyn immediately denied, wanting to keep the garden shed a secret.

Arne fell quiet, feeling to blame for throwing the defenseless out to fend for themselves in a world of ravaging predators. One simple thing led to another and this was undeniably Arne's fault. He stood stiffly in position with his fists placed on his hips. He was overthinking what the next step was. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the Chadwells reenter the haven they claimed as their own. The last person to enter was Jolyn, who repeatedly seemed to look back at the both of them. Once he vanished, Arne was prompted to look back.

"Why don't you come inside?" He offered. Merwyn's mouth fell open, unable to speak. He quickly began grabbing the crumbs of cereal, but Arne stopped him, "Forget that. You can whip yourself up a nice bowl of cereal and a nice cup of coffee inside. No one deserves to be out here."

Emberly, who was still looking on from the inside, watched both of them stroll back towards the house. She pulled away, closing the curtains while doing so.