After an uncomfortable car ride back to base - half of which was filled with my soft, ashamed sniffles, half with awkward silence - Emma tore the car door open and stomped out. Lincoln hurried out in quick succession, calling after her.
“That’s trouble right there if I ever saw it,” Holden drawled with an amused grin. “She’s pitching a hissy fit with a tail on it.”
“She’s… what?” I blinked at him, his dialect going over my head. “You know what, never mind,” I sighed, wringing my hands as I watched Emma storm over to Coralee.
Holden shook his head, “Don’t you worry yourself, Marina, Lincoln’s been fixing to get a hiding from day one. He’s got a temper like nothing you’ve ever seen on him. Speaking of which, are you alright?”
I nodded quickly, flushing at the memory of my humiliation, one he’d borne witness to. Before he could say any more on the subject, I removed myself from the car. The hot, midday air wrapped around me oppressively just as shouts began to ring out.

“He’s out of control,” Emma fumed at Coralee, who was looking between her and Lincoln as they stood before her.
Lincoln threw an angry, pointed finger in my direction without even casting a glance over, “What the hell were you thinking sending that fucking idiot with us?”
“Are you questioning my decision?” Coralee asked, raising an eyebrow.
Emma, who was red faced at this point, burst in, “Of course he is. That’s all he ever does. He’s a fucking loose cannon, Cora.”
“Who do you think you are?” Lincoln growled, turning on Emma in rage.
“Your actions today were totally unacceptable,” Emma spat at him. “You nearly got one of our team infected.”
“She needs to fucking learn,” he raged back, thrusting his finger at me once again.
Emma whipped back to Coralee, “Don’t you ever put me on another run with him.”
She stamped off, Lincoln hurrying after her, still trying to engage her in argument, as Coralee threw her hands up in frustration.
“For god’s sake,” she huffed as Holden lazily got out of the car. “Get over here, you two. Perhaps you can give me a clearer account of what’s happened.”
I followed Holden as he sauntered over, seemingly unconcerned by Emma and Lincoln’s display, to fill her in.

“What the hell happened this time?” Coralee asked, looking at Holden for an answer.
“Aww, come on, Cora,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know Lincoln, that boy could start an argument in an empty house.”
“Hmm, but it takes a lot to get Emma all fired up,” Coralee countered, narrowing her eyes. “So, what happened?”
Holden sighed, looking over at me apologetically, “Marina here got on the wrong side of him.”
“And?” Coralee pressed, raising an eyebrow.
“Lincoln may have held her face to face with a biter,” he mumbled, reluctantly. Coralee pursed her lips tightly, a thunderous look coming across her face.
“Is this true?” she asked me, her fury leaking into the question.
I nodded, “It is, but it’s really okay.”
“It’s not okay,” she cut in, sighing exasperatedly. “That boy’s had more than enough chances, he’s back to farm duty.” She looked to Holden. “Next time you’re on a run, you’ll be taking Cole instead. He’s more than capable now.”
“He’s still a boy, Cora,” Holden argued, “I ain’t taking him.”
“Yes, you are,” she maintained, sternly. “He’s fit for it. I’ve had no problems with him - except for him being a little trigger happy, but that means you’ll be well suited,” she finished, raising an eyebrow.
“If you’re sure,” Holden relented, shrugging.
“I’m sure,” Coralee reiterated, turning to me. “Are you alright, hon?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, giving her an unconvincing smile. “You need me to help on the farm or something?”
“No, no. Take some time out, Marina,” she replied, waving me off. “Now, where’s that hot-headed buffoon gone?”

I left Holden and Coralee as they began their search for Lincoln, who, as it turned out, was currently in the room below mine and Hallie’s, still engrossed in an argument with Emma. Our room was, predictably, empty - save for the angry buzz of the spat on the floor beneath that was vibrating out from the walls. I took the opportunity to change from my blood spattered clothes to a fresh set without the awkward, fumbling rush that I was used to. Hallie would always avert her eyes when my skin was on display, but I’d hide away anyway; the last thing I needed was the string of questions my thighs would prompt. I ran my fingers over the uneven texture, looking at the ugliness in the cold light of day. I swallowed, quickly covering up the lacing of angry red etchings I’d decorated my skin with. I was torn between not understanding why I continued to do it to myself, but also fully understanding. Deep down, the conflict still burned within me; a heated pushing and pulling of blame and responsibility. Ultimately, the ball always seemed to land in my court, and Lincoln’s earlier outburst gave me an indicator as to why. I’d always seen the infected as people, unaware and helpless against their affliction. He’d smothered that part of me now, though. My compassion for them, the hope that there was something left of them to be salvaged, he’d squeezed it tightly until it had withered to nothing. He’d changed something in me, and I wasn’t sure it was ever coming back. I wasn’t sure I could ever come back from it. Sitting down on the unforgivingly hard wooden floor, I drew my knees to my chest and let his words echo around the room, bouncing off of the walls and crashing back into me, again and again. He was right. They weren’t people anymore, they were… biters.

I stood, gripping at the straps of my pack. Every few minutes, a plague of apprehension would set upon me, making me falter. I looked back over my shoulder, but I was now no longer able to see Brian’s house. Running through the inner ‘do I, don’t I’ monologue once more, I forced myself forwards, feeling hopelessly lost. It wasn’t a physical matter, it was a disorientation that emanated from somewhere deep inside, far beyond the help that maps and compasses could offer. The ongoing conflict in my conscience over Hallie made me feel like I’d been blindfolded and spun until I had no idea where I was, or which way I should go. I was painfully aware that I was leaving her behind, it weighed down every step I took; but still I pressed forwards without her, pushing on until the sun hung low in the clear sky, painting the asphalt before me with brilliant pinks and oranges.

Another block passed by, and another. Each one came with less hesitation and fewer guessing games, until there were none left at all. I was focused, instead, on Viola. I needed her right now, or at least something that felt more real than the memories I’d been left with. From the side of the road, a car caught my eye, beckoning me. It didn’t look too old, or beaten up, but there was a pile of bones in the driver’s seat. I cocked my head to one side, trying to look at it objectively. My fingers crept onto the door handle and I hesitated as a shudder ran down my spine. They’re just bones, I told myself. I reinforced it over and over as I ripped the door of the car open. Oh, Jesus. The smell. There was no flesh left to be seen, but the heavy scent of death had apparently been embraced by the fabrics of the seats, where it still remained. I tried to shake off my nausea as I threw the bones, one by one, from the car. Once I was sure there were none lurking, I nudged at the seat cautiously with the toe of my boot. Did I really want to sit where a pool of decomposing human had once sat? It was probably worth the extra miles I wouldn’t have to walk. Could I really pass by a car that was sat with the keys in the ignition? I poked my head into the car as I flicked them forwards. It worked, and it had a full tank of gas. Wow, this guy must have been seriously underprepared if he hadn’t even managed to get away with a full tank of gas, but it could still get me somewhere anyway. Gritting my teeth, I slipped my pack from my shoulders and tossed it into the passenger seat. I took a deep breath of fresh air as I braced myself for a long journey with the stench that lingered in the car. Sitting heavily in the driver’s seat, I wound down every window I could reach and tried to stem the urge to throw up as I turned the engine over. After a couple of tries, it sputtered into life. I chewed my lip for a moment, looking in the rear view mirror back at the steps I’d taken. Was I really leaving anything behind? I’d already lost everything I held dear. California was not what it should have been without my sister. I pulled my eyes away from my past and put the car into gear.

Notes

Short and slightly fluffy, but it gets us where we need to go! :)