Final Fantasy XIII 1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Sazh eased the four-wheel drive to a stop in front of the supermarket. Cities were out of the question, and even the big towns weren't safe, but an out of the way place like this might still be okay. He left the engine running and took a good look at the area around the vehicle. There were a few abandoned cars in the parking lot, along with a few more on the road, but other than that, there didn't seem to be anyone, or anything else around.

However, there were buildings all along the street, and even if nothing had come as he'd driven past, that didn't mean they were empty. The Infected didn't always come out right away, but it wasn't like he could stay in the car either. He and Dajh had been running pretty low on supplies for almost a week now, so even if it was a bit risky, they didn't have much choice. They could stop and try to scrounge up some supplies, or they could keep going and probably starve in a few days. If it was just himself, he probably would have kept on driving, but he wasn't about to let Dajh go hungry. The whole world might have gone to hell, but one way or another he'd put food on the table for his son.

Satisfied that the area was clear, at least for the time being, he shut off the engine and pocketed the keys. As he got out of the car, he patted himself down to make sure he had everything. There was the shotgun with a flashlight taped onto the barrel, a pistol for the holster at his hip, and a knife. Anything more would slow him down, but anything less might not be enough to keep him and Dajh safe. Taking another look at his surroundings, he nodded to himself and then went around the other side of the vehicle to open the door for Dajh.

Dajh hopped out of the car, a flashlight of his own clutched in his hands. He had a lighter in his jacket too, along with a few boxes of matches. "Are we going to go shopping, daddy?"

Sazh nodded, eyes never leaving the area around them. "That's right, son, but we need to be quick. I'm not sure this place is very safe."

Dajh looked around quickly, taking in all of their surroundings, just like Sazh had taught him. "Okay."

"Now, before we go in there, Dajh, I want you to tell me the rules, okay?" Sazh reached into the pockets of his jacket. Good, he had a spare pair of batteries in there in case the ones in his flashlight went flat.

Dajh checked his own pockets just to make sure that he had everything. Checking things was important, but the rules were the most important of all. The rules were the only reason that he and daddy were still alive. He'd seen other people not following the rules and the Infected had gotten all of them. That was why it was just the two of them now. They hadn't seen anyone else for almost a month now. "There are three rules," Dajh said, the words so familiar to him now that he barely even needed to think about them. "Rule #1 is to always stay close to you daddy. Rule #2 is to always keep my eyes and ears on everything around me. And Rule #3 is to always listen to what you say, daddy."

"Good." Sazh reached down with one hand to ruffle Dajh's hair. "That's right, son. You follow those rules and we should be just fine. Who knows, we might even find some chocolate in there." Sazh smiled at the grin on Dajh's face. It was nice to now that even with things so bad, the thought of candy could bring a smile to his son's face.

The two of them made their way over to the front of the supermarket. As usual, Sazh kept on an eye out for things in front of them, and Dajh kept an eye out for things behind them. To make sure they weren't separated, Dajh kept a firm hold on the edge of Sazh's jacket.

They stopped at the automatic doors that led into the supermarket. There wasn't any power, probably hadn't been for months, so the doors were stuck almost shut. Sazh took a quick look inside, hating the fact that the glass made it difficult to see past the doors, before he wedged his fingers into the small gap between the doors and pulled. The doors came open fairly easily, and he pulled until the gap was wide enough for both of them to fit through without any trouble.

Inside, the front of the supermarket was reasonably well lit. It was just going on midday, so there was plenty of sunshine coming in through the windows and the doors. Further back though, past the messy lines of trolleys and the checkout counters, the supermarket was dark, the lights on the ceiling dead after who knew how long without power. Sazh had learned the hard way that even if sticking to the light wasn't a guarantee for safety, heading into the darkness was just asking for trouble.

There was an empty can of tomatoes at his feet right next to a long streak of dried blood, and he reached down to pick it up. If there were any Infected in here, the best place to fight them would be right here at the front of the supermarket where he and Dajh could see them coming, and if necessary, run for it. Taking a deep breath, he drew his arm back and tossed the can of tomatoes at the ground.

The can hit the ground with a loud clang and then rolled noisily along the floor until it hit one of the checkout counters. Shotgun up and ready, he waited for a few moments as his eyes and ears strained to catch any sign of movement. Finally, when a minute or so had passed without a sight or sound of anything, he lowered his shotgun.

"Okay, Dajh, let's go get what we can," Sazh said as he went over to grab one of the trolleys scattered around. It was a bit dented, but it stilled rolled well enough to use. "Remember the rules, Dajh. Now, turn your flashlight on, you're going to need it."

They headed deeper into the supermarket, and as they went, Sazh was careful to keep track of what was in each aisle. The quicker they were, the better it would be. As they neared the frozen produce section, he winced. Without power, all the frozen meat had gone off, and the smell of it was almost unbearable.

As they made their way over to the canned goods section, he made sure to keep his shotgun moving from side to side so that the flashlight on it covered everything in front of them. There were bloodstains on the floor and the walls, and even on the shelves. The Infected must have come through here already, and with any luck they'd already moved on.

Finally, they got to the canned goods section, and Sazh breathed a sigh of relief. The shelves were far from full, but there was more than enough there for the two of them. "All right, Dajh, start filling the trolley."

As Dajh started putting cans into the trolley, Sazh thought back to when things had first gone wrong. Back then, both of them had worked to fill the trolley, but that had turned out to be a mistake. The cans made a lot of noise, which in turn made it hard to hear the Infected until they were right on top of them. That mistake had almost gotten both of them killed, and after that, Sazh had decided that since he was the only one who could use a gun, Dajh would have to fill the trolley on his own. It was slower, and he hated to see his son straining to lift some of the bigger cans, but it was the safest way to do things.

For his part, Dajh just grabbed whatever he could find and tossed it into the trolley. The boy had learned pretty quickly, that he couldn't afford to be picky anymore. If he were, then he might not eat. Besides, canned beef stew wasn't all that bad, especially if they could heat it up and have it with something like rice.

Suddenly, there was a noise from the end of the aisle as something knocked some cans to the ground. Sazh had the shotgun pointed there in a heartbeat and he felt his pulse race until he realised what he was looking at. It was just a cat, most likely trying to scavenge for food, just like them. The cat hissed for a moment as the light played over it, and then vanished. Still, the cat was a good sign. Animals didn't like the infected too much, so if the cat was around, there probably weren't too many Infected nearby. Of course, the cat could also have run because it sensed the Infected coming.

"You done, son?" Sazh asked quietly.

Dajh nodded. "Yes."

Sazh put one hand on the trolley to push it. "Good, then let's get going."

They went from aisle to aisle, moving as quickly as they could in the darkness with only their flashlights to show the way. Most of the aisles were bare. When the Infected had first started appearing, people had panicked and grabbed whatever they could find. Still, things must have happened pretty quickly here, because there were still a few bags of rice left, along with some camping supplies like matches, and fuel for the portable stove that Sazh had managed to scavenge from a wrecked motor home a few weeks back. However, they really hit the jackpot when they found several cases of bottled water. It would be heavy – and the trolley was already close to full – but with good, clean water so hard to come by, it would be worth the extra effort.

Their second last stop was in the candy section of the supermarket and for a moment, Sazh felt his heart sink. As he ran his flashlight over the shelves, there didn't seem to be anything left, which was a pity. Chocolate didn't just taste good. It had a lot of calories, and it stayed good for a long, long time.

"Sorry, son, it doesn't look like there's any left," Sazh said.

Dajh let out a disappointed sigh as he ran his flashlight over the shelves too. And then he smiled. There, almost hidden under all the empty boxes, were several bars of chocolate. "Look, daddy!" he cried.

"Well, look at that," Sazh said. "Let's go get it then."

After putting the chocolate bars into the trolley they headed back to the front of the supermarket. This was the only supermarket for miles, so Sazh was pretty sure that it would have sold firearms and ammunition. The only question was: would there be any left? The weapons counter was up near the front, and Sazh could only purse his lips at how little there was left. Other than maybe a dozen shotgun shells, the counter was empty. Still, every bit helped, and with the Infected wandering around, ammunition was worth its weight in gold. The counter was locked, so he used the stock of the shotgun to break the cabinet glass.

"Looks like we're done," Sazh said. "Let's get out of here."

They were almost to the front doors when Sazh heard it. It was the telltale scrape of feet moving across the linoleum supermarket floor, feet that didn't belong to him or Dajh. He spun, pushing Dajh behind him as he brought his shotgun up and levelled it at where he thought the noise was coming from.

The light from his flashlight played across the empty aisle as he moved it back and forth. He'd heard a sound, he was sure of it. Breathing beginning to speed up a little, he eased the trolley back toward the door, keeping himself between the rest of the supermarket and Dajh. A can rolled noisily across the ground and he pointed the gun in the direction it had come from. There, half-hidden in the shadows that draped much of the supermarket was one of the Infected.

The Infected was a woman, or at least, it had been once. The rags of a shirt were tangled around its upper body, and its pants were worn and ripped. On its feet, there was only one shoe, and the flesh that showed through all the mangled garments was a sickly, pasty white. It must have been hiding somewhere in the back of the store, maybe in one of the storerooms. That would explain why it had only just come out now after he'd broken the cabinet.

For a long moment, the Infected just sort of crouched there its eyes twin pools of black bitumen without any hint of reason in them, only hunger. Then it lurched to its feet and charged straight at them with a keening wail. Sazh fired and the Infected jerked backward, spinning as the shotgun blew one of its arms clean off, and ripped away a good portion of its chest. But that wasn't enough to kill it, and it rushed forward again, the fingers on its remaining hand formed into claws as it bared its teeth and howled. Sazh waited a second to steady his aim and then pulled the trigger again. The shotgun roared and the Infected toppled to the ground, its head gone.

"We need to get moving," Sazh said as he pushed the trolley out the doors. "If there's more of them around, they'll be coming here." Loud sounds had a way of drawing the Infected, and the shotgun for all its merits, was very loud indeed.

They got back to their four-wheel drive and rather than try and store the things they'd taken in an orderly fashion, Sazh simply got the boot open and started throwing them in. They could get them organised later, but right now they needed to get moving as soon as possible.

"Dajh," Sazh said as he handed the boy the keys. "Get it started."

Dajh nodded and hurried to the front of the four-wheel drive to get it started. He was too small to drive, but Sazh had taught him how to start the vehicle. And it was a good thing too. The trolley was still half full, but already several loud shrieks had split the air. A dozen Infected ran down the street, drawn by the sound of the gunshots, but now whipped into a frenzy by the sight and smell of fresh prey.

"They're coming, daddy!" Dajh screamed from inside the four-wheel drive. "Hurry!"

Sazh tossed the last of their supplies into the boot and then lifted his shotgun. He fired twice. The two closest Infected went down, not dead, but out of the way for the time being. Then he ran for the front of the car and threw himself into the driver's seat. The tyres squealed as he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The Infected gave chase, one of them lunging at the back of the vehicle, only to miss as the four-wheel drive finally began to put on some speed and pulled away.

"Good work, son," Sazh murmured as he steered the four-wheel drive around the burnt out remains of an SUV. "Good work."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off this.

Well, what can I say? Everybody loves a good zombie apocalypse. That kind of scenario also gives me a chance to see how everyone's favourite characters cope under extreme circumstances. I've also been meaning to write something with a bit more Sazh and Dajh in it, so, here you go.

My apologies to those expecting an entirely new chapter (this chapter appeared as a teaser in the extended author's notes for Stetsons and Fal'Cie), but the teaser was only supposed to be the first couple of pages, but I ended up getting carried away. Still, I do need to post the first chapter to the get the story started. After all, you can't have a second chapter without a first chapter. However, I do intend to get the next chapter up in the next couple of days, so hopefully reposting this wasn't too much of a disappointment for those who've already read it.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Lightning scanned the road ahead of her and then lifted one hand from the steering wheel to scrub at her face. She'd driven the whole night and almost the whole day before that too. She blinked slowly. It was too much, but every minute she spent resting or sleeping was another minute longer to Eden City, another minute longer that Serah would have to –

An abandoned car loomed up on the road ahead.

She cursed and slammed her foot on the brakes. The wheels of the sedan she was driving screeched and the car began to skid. Frantically, she fought the steering wheel for control, and the car finally came to a stop, just a few inches shy of the abandoned car. For a moment, she could barely breathe, her grip on the steering wheel almost painful.

"Stupid," she murmured. "So damn stupid." She swallowed thickly. She was breaking down. Under normal circumstances, she'd never have taken her eyes off the road, let alone missed the abandoned car, but these weren't normal circumstances. "All right," she whispered. "All right." She looked down at her hands. They were shaking. "Calm down."

Slowly, finally, her breathing began to ease up. She pried her hands off the steering wheel and sank back into the driver's seat. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed to rest. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time that she'd gotten some sleep. But she was afraid to close her eyes, afraid that if she wasted even a minute of time getting to Eden City then Serah would –

She jerked back upright. It had happened again. She'd lost herself in her thoughts and exhaustion and what scared her most was that she wasn't sure how much time she'd missed. Panting, she lifted one hand up and slapped herself across the face. Pain flared in her cheek and she did it again, and then again until she felt the prickle of tears at the corner of her eyes. Good, she thought. Good. The pain kept her alert, focused. And right now, the last thing she could afford to do was lose her focus.

Shaking her head slowly to clear it, Lightning put her hands back on the steering wheel. Her hands shook for a moment and then stilled as she forced them to obey. Gently, she backed the sedan away from the abandoned car, and then steered around it and back onto the open road. She needed to find a place to rest and soon, otherwise the next time she might not be so lucky.

She drove for what felt like a long time before she finally found a place that looked like it might be safe. At the end of a dirt track that branched off from the main road was a small farmhouse surrounded by an overgrown paddock. Provided that the farmhouse was clear of Infected, it would be a better idea to rest there than at the side of the road in her car.

The car jostled up and down on the uneven track as she watched the paddock for any sign of the Infected. The grass growing there was only knee high, but she'd learned the hard way that the normal rules of combat didn't apply to the Infected. They weren't like people. They didn't get tired, they didn't fear, and they could appear absolutely anywhere –

She jammed down on the brakes just in time to avoid crashing into the fence in front of the farmhouse. Damn it. She really was slipping. She reached for the rifle in the seat beside her opened the car door. She needed to check the farmhouse now, while she was still alert enough to realise her problems and compensate accordingly.

Stepping out of the car, she checked her rifle over, along the sidearm at her hip and the survival knife in her belt. Biting the inside of her cheek, she used the brief stab of pain to try and get her focus back. Once she'd checked the farmhouse for Infected she could rest, but until then she needed to stay alert.

Quietly, she opened the gate in front of the farmhouse and strode up the stone steps to the front door. She tried the door, but it was locked. For a second, she considered simply kicking it in, but even if that did get her inside, it would leave her exposed for the duration of her stay. No, there was a better way. Circling around to one of the side windows, she peered inside for any signs of movement. There were none.

With a quick jerk of her rifle, she broke the window closest to her open and then reached inside to undo the latch. She lifted the window with one hand and then climbed in, her rifle held in front of her, her finger on the trigger. The early morning sun made for more than adequate lighting, and she took a quick look around.

This had to be the dining room. There was no food on table, but the fine china had been laid out along with silver cutlery. She walked over to the door at the far end of the room and flung it open. At the same time, she stepped back, her rifle raised and ready to shoot anything that came through the door. Nothing did.

With a quiet sigh, she poked her head out of the dining room and into the corridor. The scent of dust and old blood hit her, and she felt her pulse quicken. Had the Infected already come through here? As quietly as she could manage, she crept down the corridor. She checked each door as she went along, but every room came up empty. Still, she couldn't shake a sense of unease. Everything in the house was so orderly, from the dining room to the bathroom with all the toiletries neatly lined up above the sink and along the edge of the shower. If the Infected had come through here, they would have made a mess. But if the Infected hadn't come then what had? Had the people living here simply abandoned it when the infection hit?

She got her answer when she checked the next room. It was the master bedroom. There were two bodies on the bed, a man and a woman, the flesh all but gone from the bones. A blanket had been pulled up to cover them up to the waist, and the scene would almost have looked peaceful if it wasn't for the fact that the two were dead. And the cause of death was all too easy to determine. There was a pistol on the bed and a bullet hole through the temple of the woman. As for the man, the bullet hole went from under his chin up through the top of the skull. Suicide, she thought as she turned away. Most likely when they'd realised what the infection was doing, how hopeless everything had become.

Closing the door to the master bedroom, Lightning moved to check the last room of the house. She immediately wished she hadn't. It was another bedroom, and in it were the bodies of two little girls, their arms still wrapped around each other. She lurched back, tasting bile, as the full extent of what had happened hit her.

The parents had probably heard how bad things had become, and here, just off a major road, they'd undoubtedly witnessed horrible things too. They must have thought long and hard before coming to the conclusion that there was nothing they could do, that the world as they knew it had ended. So they'd done the only thing they could think of to get away from a world that had gone to hell. She could see it now, the father opening the door to his daughters' bedroom, his hands shaking as he saw them sleeping, their arms wrapped around each other. He would have fired twice and then, his daughters' bodies still cooling, he would have tucked himself into bed beside his wife and finished things.

She looked back at the girls on the bed. They couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old judging from the toys stacked neatly in the corner. They should have been playing in the paddock outside not rotting away in a house filled with death. A sob threatened to break past her lips. It was easy, far too easy, to see her and Serah there on the bed in place of the girls.

No.

Serah was not dead.

She was not dead.

Or was she?

A vision of Serah lying in some grimy corner of Eden City filled her mind. How long would it take for her sister's eyes to lose their colour, for her hair to fall away as her scalp rotted off to reveal the skull beneath?

Suddenly, horribly sick, Lightning stumbled out of the room. The air inside the house was too thick, the scent of death too heavy. She needed to get outside.

Blindly, she stumbled out of the house and then collapsed onto her knees on the overgrown lawn. Her breathing came in great, heaving gulps and her stomach clenched. Wildly, she fought for control, but in the end she had no choice but to toss her rifle aside as she retched until her stomach was utterly empty. She managed to stagger away from the mess she'd made before she flopped down onto the grass.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there, but finally, she found the strength to stand back up. Swallowing thickly despite the horrid taste in her mouth, she went back for her rifle, and then staggered back to her car for some water. As she washed her mouth out, she turned her eyes back to the farmhouse. She was not going to go back in there. Even if it would be safer to sleep inside the farmhouse, there was no way she could go back there. It was bad enough coming across people that the Infected had killed, but to see people who'd taken their own lives, who'd decided to kill themselves rather than face the horror of the Infected… that was too much, far, far too much.

Careful not to look at the farmhouse, Lightning climbed back into the car and locked the doors behind her. Then she eased the driver's seat back as far as it would go and lay down. Dimly, she realised that she was shaking even though it wasn't cold. She closed her eyes and forced herself to think of anything but what she'd just seen.

"Please," she whispered as she felt her awareness begin to slip away. "Don't let me dream."

Lightning slept, at least for a little, her dreams a cruel mix of the people that she'd already failed to save and the one person she refused to let down. Then she was awakened by a sound like thunder.

She heaved up into a sitting position, her rifle up and ready in an instant. Her eyes went to the windscreen, scanning the area in front of her for trouble. There was none, but from the look of the sunlight outside, it was already late afternoon. With no sign of trouble in front of her, her gaze flicked quickly to the windows on either side of her and then to the back window of the car. There was a tall column of dark smoke rising from the main road.

For a few moments, she considered her options. She didn't know what the smoke was coming from, but smoke meant fire, and fire meant trouble. If she stayed near the paddock and it caught fire, she could easily be trapped, and although she couldn't imagine a worse death than being caught by the Infected, burning to death wasn't far off. Of course, the fire could also mean that there was someone else there, someone that had managed to survive. They might need her help, and even if there wasn't anything she could do for them, there might be something there that she could salvage.

Mind made up, she started the sedan and drove quickly down the dirt trail, coming to a stop just shy of where it met the main road. She went the rest of the way on foot, her rifle held tightly in her hands. The sound and smoke were sure to have drawn any Infected in the area. Out on the main road, it took her only a second or two to spot the source of the smoke.

Perhaps a hundred yards away, a four-wheel drive had veered off the road and crashed into a tree. The vehicle was burning and silhouetted against the flames were at least half a dozen Infected. They were moving rapidly toward the wreck, their speed at odds with the freakish, jerky way that they moved. Screams filled the air, followed by gunshots as the Infected closed in on the four-wheel drive, and Lightning realised belatedly that someone had made it out of the crash alive.

With the Infected near the crash distracted, she took a quick look around to make sure that there were no more of them, and then she broke into a sprint. She waited until she was only thirty yards away before she opened fire. Years of military training told her to aim at the chest. It was a bigger target than the head, and on a normal human being, a few rifle slugs to the chest were more than enough. However, the Infected were not normal human beings and shooting them in the chest would do nothing except waste her already scarce ammunition. Instead, she forced herself to aim upward at the heads on the Infected.

She snapped her shots off two at a time. Some of the more tenacious Infected survived single shots to the head, but two was always enough. The first Infected went down without a fight, but the others turned at the sound of the gunshots, their inky eyes locking onto her as their heads tilted back and forth in a sick parody of childish curiosity. Then, with a series of harsh, inhuman cries, they charged at her. She fired quickly, but efficiently. Her rifle jerked against her shoulder as the two Infected closest to her reeled back, their heads all but gone. The three others continued their mad dash and without the time to line up a proper shot on each of them, she aimed for their legs instead. The Infected toppled to the ground, their legs riddled with bullets. They weren't dead, but they weren't able to move properly either. Conscious of her scarce supply of ammunition, she lowered her rifle and reached for her sidearm. The pistol felt good in her hands, and she savoured the feel of it for a moment before she shot each of the Infected in the head twice.

With the Infected no longer a threat, she reloaded her rifle, and then picked her way past the debris scattered along the road until she reached the survivor. He was a middle-aged man, probably in his mid forties, and he seemed average in almost every way, from his height to his build, except for the overly large glasses on his face. Idly, she wondered how he'd managed to survive this long. He didn't look like a soldier. If anything, he looked like an accountant. There was blood scattered all around him on the road and she stiffened as she noticed the bite marks on his arm and neck. He'd been bitten.

"Wait…" the man groaned as he tossed his pistol aside and looked up at her with weary eyes. "Just… wait a second."

Lightning lowered her rifle – she hadn't even noticed that she'd raised it. "You've been bitten," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the crackle of flames coming from the ruined four-wheel drive nearby.

The man swallowed thickly, and she could see him try to fight past the pain so that he could think and speak clearly. He followed her gaze to the bite marks on his arm. "Yes, I have."

She glanced away from him for a moment. The four-wheel drive seemed to have stopped burning. She looked back at him and then spoke, voice carefully held neutral. "You'll become one of them."

"I know." The man tried to stand but failed. It wasn't hard to see why. His legs were a mess, one of them crushed almost entirely below the knee, the other clearly broken. Lightning wasn't sure how much of that had come from the Infected and how much from the crash. "Believe me, I know." He flopped back onto the ground. "Are you going to kill me?"

Lightning's finger twitched at the trigger. "Yes. I have to."

"Good." He gasped and then tears started to trickle down his cheeks, half from pain and half from frustration. "Don't let me end up like them." He gazed past her at the bodies of the Infected. "Please."

"Don't worry, I won't." She lifted her rifle and levelled it at his head. "Wait… what's your name?"

His eyes widened, and beneath the pain carved into his features, she saw surprise, as well. "Why do you want to know?"

Feeling more tired than she could ever remember, Lightning shrugged. "I… don't know." And she didn't, not really. "I guess… I guess it's because you're a person and people have names. The Infected don't. They aren't people anymore."

He nodded slowly. There was a trace of understanding in his eyes, but they had already begun to glaze a little. "My name is John Smith." It was an ordinary name, Lightning thought. But he seemed like a very ordinary man. It was a pity that they lived in extraordinary times. "I… I lived in Eden City. I was a… a manager at a firm that handled data storage." He coughed and it was a wet, wet sound. "I was going to meet my wife and daughter for a holiday in Nautilus but… but…"

"What happened in Eden City?" Lightning whispered. "Please, what happened there?"

John shook his head slowly. "It burned. It all burned. The Infected… the Infected were everywhere and somewhere along the line a fire started… but there was no one to put it out… so it burned… all of it…" The tears came harder now, angry, helpless tears. "It all burned and everybody was dead."

Lightning's hands shook. "My sister goes to Eden University," she said, refusing to use the past tense. "How many other people got out of Eden City?"

He looked at her and somehow through all the pain, he understood for she could see the lie forming on his lips before he'd even spoken. "I… I think there were others. There had to be others… who got away."

Lightning's jaw clenched. It was a lie. He hadn't seen anyone else get away. But at least he'd tried to make her, some woman he didn't even know, feel a little better.

He coughed and blood bubbled out from between his lips. "Have you seen Nautilus? Did… did anyone get out?"

Lightning closed her eyes. She'd been there in Nautilus when the infection broke out and within a week everyone else had been dead. The city had torn itself apart in a frenzy of blood and horror. For just a second, she thought about telling him exactly how things had been, but the words died on her lips. She couldn't do it. This man, this office manager from Eden City, had somehow found the strength to get out of Eden City and head for Nautilus. But his journey was going to end here, in the middle of nowhere, with his legs crushed, and staring down the barrel of a rifle held by a woman he didn't even know. Sometimes ordinary people did extraordinary things, and sometimes that still wasn't enough. It was so unfair that she almost wanted to cry, but she'd cried enough, more than enough, when she'd had to leave Amodar behind, after he'd made her leave him behind because he was hurt and she'd never have survived trying to protect him too.

"I came from Nautilus," she said. "The Infected were there too, but some people did manage to get away." She hoped with everything she had that he wouldn't see through the lie.

He didn't.

He smiled shakily. "Good. That's good. If anyone made it out, I know they would have." His body shook and his breath came out of him in a hiss. "If… if you see my wife and daughter… can you tell them… that… that I tried to get to them?" He coughed. "My wife's name is Jane and my daughter's name is Emily… please… tell them…"

Lightning nodded. "I promise," she whispered as she lifted her rifle and tried not to think about the bodies strewn all over Nautilus. "And I'll tell them that that you didn't suffer, that it was quick." She bit her lip. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. She was tired and hungry, and now she was going to kill a decent man because it was the nicest thing she could do for him, maybe the only thing she could do for him. "And John…" she cleared her throat. "It was nice to meet you. My name…" she swallowed thickly. "My name is Claire Farron."

He closed his eyes. "I'm glad we met, Claire." He smiled. "I'm glad we met."

She aimed her rifle at his head.

She fired.

And then, just to be sure, she fired once more.

Afterward, she went to take a look at the crashed four-wheel drive. There was no way she'd be able to drive it after it caught fire, but there was a good chance that some of the things in the boot might have survived. Inside the boot, she found some food and fuel, and even some ammunition. She went back to her sedan and drove it closer before she moved everything she could use into it from the four-wheel drive.

She also found a blanket, a nice, warm, thick blanket. Her own blankets were much thinner, but she couldn't bring herself to take it, not when he was just lying out there on the road for the world to see. He hadn't been a monster when he died. He'd been a man. And she'd known his name. So rather than take the blanket with her, she draped it over his body. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Once that was done, she stood there, her gaze drawn first to the farmhouse and then to the blanket draped over the body. What would happen if she died? Would anyone else remember John Smith, the office manager from Eden City? Would anyone else remember the family who'd chosen death over the Infected? And would anyone else remember her?

A bitter laugh bubbled up from her lips and it grew until tears were running down her cheeks. What was the damn point? Everyone was dead. Everyone. Was. Dead. She leant back against her car and scrubbed at her cheeks. Even if she got to Eden City, she'd never find Serah. There would be nothing there, nothing except ashes and the Infected, and what little hope she'd been clinging to all this time, what little had kept her sane would be gone. Maybe she should just put a bullet in her head now and save herself the trouble?

Her gun was halfway to her head before she realised what she was doing. Horrified, she dropped it and scrambled away.

"What are you doing?" she growled. "Get yourself together."

Serah was alive. She had to believe that. And if… if she were wrong, then she'd deal with it when she knew for certain. Until then, she had to assume that Serah had gotten away somehow, that there was still a reason for her to go on living. Slowly, she picked her gun back up and went back into her car.

"She's alive," she whispered as she started the engine. "She has to be." Then she was driving down the main road and away from the farmhouse and the crash. She refused to look back.

That night, as she lay in the car, a blanket wrapped around her to stave off the cold, her thoughts wandered back to the man she'd met. He'd believed, even as he lay dying, that his wife and daughter were still alive. He hadn't given up. No matter how impossible it seemed, she couldn't afford to give up either.

"Good night, Serah," she whispered as she closed her eyes. "Just wait a little bit longer."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off this.

So a quick update to make up for the repost, and Lightning enters the story. The previous chapter was definitely more action and suspense oriented, but in this chapter I wanted to go into some of the psychological effects of the outbreak. Unlike Sazh and Dajh, Lightning is on her own and that is not a pleasant situation, at all. She has to realise that the odds of Serah having survived the initial outbreak are slim to none. At the same time, however, she has to cling to the hope that Serah has survived, otherwise, what does she have to live for?

If you're wondering about whom John Smith is, he is, literally, an ordinary man, hence the name. As Lightning thought, sometimes ordinary people do extraordinary things, and sometimes that still isn't enough.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Good morning, Primarch Dysley, and thank you for taking time to speak with us and address some of our viewers' concerns."

Nora turned her attention from the kitchen window to the small television set into the wall near the stove. Smoke had been rising from the middle of Eden City since she'd woken up, and there had been hardly any mention of it at all on either television or radio except for a few scattered words here and there. Perhaps the Primarch would finally be able to tell everyone what was going on.

On the television, Primarch Galenth Dysley projected an air of calm and experience. His expression was one of grandfatherly concern as he stared right back into the camera. "Thank you for having me on the show. It is my responsibility as Primarch to ensure the maintenance of public order and safety."

The news anchor nodded. "Of course." He shuffled some papers and then got straight to the point. "Primarch, if you'll excuse the rush, I'd like to ask you directly: what is going on at Eden City University? Smoke has been seen rising from the campus grounds since early this morning, and there appears to be a Sanctum Security cordon in place preventing the approach of civilians and the media."

The Primarch's mouth firmed into a thin line. "There has been some… unrest at the Eden City University."

"What kind of unrest?" the news anchor asked.

"It would appear that early this morning, the university was attacked by several armed groups. These groups have seized control of a number of campus buildings and are currently holding hundreds of students hostage." Galenth folded his hands on the news desk and leaned forward. "Due to the delicate nature of the situation, it was decided that the safest option, for both those inside the university and those outside, was to establish a Sanctum Security cordon until the situation has been resolved."

The news anchor took a few moments to process the information and then pressed on. "So this appears to be a terrorist attack of some kind? Have any groups stepped forward to claim responsibility, and have there been any casualties amongst either the students or Sanctum Security?"

The Primarch smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, I'm not yet in a position to comment on those issues. At this stage, several operations are taking place to resolve this issue, and until they are completed, it would be dangerous for me to say anything further. However, let me assure you and all of the citizens of Eden City that everything that can be done is being done. These criminals will not be allowed to harm anyone and they will be brought to justice. Peace and order will be maintained."

The news anchor nodded. "I see. Primarch, there have also been reports of unrest in other parts of the city and throughout the country. In fact, some of our viewers have even mentioned riots taking place in the shopping district, along with additional fires. Can you provide any comment on that?"

For an instant the Primarch's expression slipped. The grandfatherly expression vanished and in its place was a look that was half fury and half fear. However, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and Nora couldn't be sure that she'd even really seen it in the first place.

"At this stage, I can say that several Sanctum Security units have been deployed into the shopping district to deal with what appear to be several isolated incidents of unruly citizens taking advantage of the situation to misbehave." Galenth put on a faint smile. "As for the reports of unrest in Nautilus, well, it is almost time for the yearly parade." He chuckled. "I've no doubt that it's just a few young people celebrating a little too much."

The news anchor laughed, as well, but quickly fell silent. "Of course, Primarch. The parade is known for being quite high-spirited. However, our viewers have phoned in to inform us that the entire shopping district has been cordoned off. Surely there are more than just a few isolated incidents…"

The Primarch raised one hand to cut him off. "It is true that the shopping district has been cordoned off. However, that was done as a precautionary measure. Past experience shows that the best way to head off any trouble with rioters is to prevent them assembling in large numbers. The cordon was established for exactly that purpose and I have no doubt that it will be gone within a few hours. It may seem heavy handed, but I would rather be over prepared than under prepared."

The news anchor frowned faintly. "I see. Well, I suppose that would help prevent the spread of rioting." He smiled. "Now, I understand that you're a busy man, Primarch, so we only have time for a few more questions. Is there anything that you'd like to say to our viewers?"

The Primarch smiled warmly at the camera. "Some troubling events have taken place today, but you can rest assured that they are being handled by the best possible people. In the interest of public order and safety, I would like to ask all the citizens of Eden City to remain in their homes until this situation has resolved. I would also like to caution any citizens thinking about joining the rioters in the shopping district. Sanctum Security has been deployed and anyone engaging in criminal acts will be arrested and charged accordingly. The safety of the public is paramount to the Sanctum, and you can rest assured that it will not be long before order is restored."

After that the interview shifted away from the unrest at Eden City University to what the Primarch hoped to achieve in the next budget. Turning her attention back to the kitchen window, Nora couldn't help but frown. A terrorist attack wasn't quite what she'd expected, but perhaps it wasn't that unlikely. Although Oerban separatists hadn't attacked since the peace accord was signed almost ten years ago, there could easily be extremists that wished to continue the conflict.

However, what really concerned her was the talk of riots in the shopping district. Her family's apartment wasn't very far from the shopping district and the last thing she wanted was for her and her son, Hope, to get caught up in an actual riot. Hopefully, Sanctum Security would be able to handle things.

Nora leaned out of the kitchen door. Her son was sitting at the dining table with his laptop. "Hope, has there been any news on the InfoNet about what's been happening?"

Hope looked up from his laptop and shrugged. In typical teenage fashion, he was still walking around in his pyjamas, even though it was almost lunchtime. "Not really, mom." He slouched into his chair. "It's just the same stuff as on TV and the radio. They think it's terrorists or something."

Nora sighed. "Okay then." She grinned. "How about you change into something else, Hope, it's almost lunchtime."

"But, mom!" Hope complained. "It's holidays, and it's not like we're going anywhere till this evening anyway."

"Hope Estheim," Nora said. "Either you change into some proper clothes, or I'll change you into some proper clothes myself."

Nora smiled softly as Hope practically sprinted to his room. It made her a little sad sometimes to realise that her son wasn't a little boy anymore. He'd grown up so fast, and now he wouldn't even let her hug him without fidgeting and complaining. When he'd been younger, he'd been the complete opposite, always wanting to hold her hand and follow her around.

As her son stomped around his room in search of clothes, she went back to the kitchen. She was still a little worried about everything, but there was someone she could call. Her husband, Bartholomew had a job as a senior area manager in the Eden City branch of the Sanctum Bureau of Civil Affairs, the department responsible for running basic services like water and electricity. With all the cordons in place, there was a good chance that he'd know more about what was going on.

She dialled his number and then lifted her phone to her ear. "Bart," she said as he picked up. "How are you? Have you been watching the news?"

Her husband sighed wearily over the phone and she could almost picture him taking his glasses off to wipe them clean. It was a habit he'd had as long she'd known him, and as strange as it was, she'd always found it quite… adorable. "It's all I'm hearing about, honey. We've had requests from Sanctum Security to shut down power to the university and the shopping district." He sighed again. "I doubt it's going to do anything to the terrorists and I've been fielding complaints from angry shop owners all morning."

Nora frowned. "I can imagine. Is… is everything going to be all right? It's just, they're not telling us anything on the news."

Bart made a reassuring sound. "Of course, it'll be fine. Sanctum Security is out there right now, so it shouldn't be too long before all of this gets resolved. I think they just want to keep it all quiet until they've got everything settled." He paused. "They probably don't want to get people's hopes up just in case there are any casualties or anything."

"I guess." Nora felt her worry ease a little. Bart must know more than he could say over the phone, but he seemed confident that everything would be fine. "By the way, do you think you'll be home late tonight?"

Bart took a deep breath. "I think so." He paused and despite the fact that she couldn't see him, Nora knew that there was an apologetic look on his face. "Look, I know we were all supposed to go out tonight, but…"

"I know, and I'm sure you didn't plan on this happening," Nora said with a small grin.

Bart sighed. "It's just, I know Hope was really looking forward to going out night."

Nora poked her head out the kitchen door. Hope had a sour look on his face as he adjusted his shirt. He was growing quickly these days, and it didn't take long for his clothes to get too small. "I'm sure he'll understand." She went back into the kitchen. "He's just at that age, Bart."

"I guess." Bart's voice was a little sad. "I'll try and get back as early as I can though, maybe I'll make it back in time. If not, then I guess we can go out tomorrow night, okay?"

"Okay." Nora smiled. "And, Bart, don't beat yourself up over this. It's not like anyone expected this to happen."

He chuckled. "Well, when it comes to Hope, I don't always seem to get things right."

"Enough of that," Nora said. "Now cheer up, and I'll see you tonight."

Nora put the phone down. Well, there wasn't much she could do now but wait for Sanctum Security to sort everything out. Still, it was a real shame. It wasn't often that Bart got time off work, and she'd been hoping that the three of them could go out to dinner and then catch the newest movie. Hope and Bart had never been that close – not only was Bart not good at dealing with other people, he was also away at work most of time – but lately, they'd been drifting even further apart. It bothered her to see the two most important people in her life at odds, and on more than one occasion she'd been very tempted to just yell some sense into them. Take last week, for instance. The three of them had sat down to eat dinner as a family and the two of them hadn't said a word to each other. Instead, Bart had talked to her, and Hope and talked to her, and the whole time they hadn't said a thing each other. It made her want to scream.

The saddest part was that it wasn't even the case that Bart didn't care. He just wasn't good with words, at least, outside of work. Instead of words, he used his work to show he cared, working as hard as he could to make sure that they always had enough money to get the things they wanted. It was the way he'd been raised, and while Nora understood that, Hope was still a bit too young to understand that there were other ways to get feelings across than saying them out loud.

There was a quiet cough from the kitchen door and Nora looked over to find Hope standing there.

"Dad's not going to make it tonight, is he?" Hope asked. He tried to act nonchalant about it, but Nora could hear the disappointment buried beneath his matter of fact tone.

"Probably not." Nora put on a smile. "But, you know, he would have if it weren't for all that's been going on today."

Hope sighed and slouched against the wall. "I guess." He put on a shaky smile. "Do you think we can get pizza or something for dinner then? It's been a while since we've done that."

Nora smiled. "I think we can do that, but, Hope, you do know that pizza and your computer don't mix."

He scowled, and as his mother, she couldn't help but find the expression more cute than anything else. "I'm not going to get fat, mom. I get plenty of exercise." He made a disgusted sound. "I'm pretty skinny anyway."

Nora stepped forward and ruffled his hair. "Oh, don't worry, Hope. Don't worry about filling out until you're a bit older. You're still just a kid."

"I'm not a kid," Hope countered. "I'm fourteen, mom."

"You're my son, Hope," Nora replied. "And that means you'll always be a kid, at least to me."

Hope rolled his eyes, but made no move to stop her from ruffling his hair. "What do you think those terrorists want, anyway?"

Nora shook her head. "I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out once all of this has been dealt with." She smiled. "Now, why don't you get started on your homework?" Hope groaned and Nora grinned. "Yes, I know you've got homework over the break, and I know it's horribly unfair, but you've still got to do it, so you might as well do it now."

"Fine, fine," Hope muttered as he trudged back into the dining room.

Nora smiled. No matter what he said, he was still her little boy.

As the day wore on, Nora busied herself with a few chores around the apartment. However, the sense of comfort she'd had after calling Bart was quickly fading. Out the windows, she'd seen more columns of smoke form, and not just from the university. Some of them seemed to be coming for the shopping district, and others from the residential areas nearby.

Looking for a bit of reassurance, she turned the television and radio on again. Like before though, there was very little in the way of information. Instead, every channel seemed to be reading out the same prepared statement. According to Sanctum Security, the situation was under control and would be dealt with shortly. However, if that was the case, why hadn't the fires been put out? In fact, when she went out on the balcony of the apartment and listened closely, she could almost have sworn that she heard gunfire.

"Hope," she said as she went into the dining room. "Can you look on the InfoNet again for me?"

Happy to be doing something other than homework, Hope was quick to agree. But his brows were quick to furrow, and his fingers flew over his laptop before he made a quick dash over to the study and then back. "Uh… mom… the InfoNet seems to be down or something."

Nora frowned. "Down? What do you mean?" It couldn't be down. They were in the middle of Eden City. The InfoNet was never down around here. Ever.

"Well, I'm not getting anything." Hope had an uncomfortable look on his face. "I checked all the connections and everything, but the only site that seems to be up is the official Sanctum information site."

"Oh." Nora left the dining room and went back into the kitchen. This didn't seem right at all. Quickly, she picked up her phone and called Bart again. "Bart, what's going on?"

Her husband's voice was tight with tension. "Nora! Good, I was just about to call you." He was breathing hard, she realised. "Listen, it's all a lie – there aren't any terrorists. Don't ask me how I know, okay, just… just get Hope and leave the city."

Nora nearly dropped the phone. "What? Bart, what do you mean? That doesn't make any sense!"

She heard the thump of Bart's fist hitting his desk. "I don't know, okay. I don't know, damn it. No one is saying a damn thing, but they've just asked us to raise all the bridges out of the city." He paused and dragged in a deep breath. "Whatever is happening, it's bad. You need to get out now. Take the bridge on the south side. You know the one. It's the old stone bridge, the only one that we can't raise."

Nora swayed and put one hand out to steady herself. "Bart, what's going on? You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, I know." Bart's voice was a strangled whisper. "Whatever's happening is bad, and the trouble is starting to spread. They've just deployed more Sanctum Security units around the southern edge of the shopping district, and they've expanded the cordon around the university. I don't want you two to get caught up in it and –" 

His words were lost as a deep boom ripped through the air. Nora dropped to her knees as the window closest to her exploded in a shower of glass. A second later, car alarms all along the street began to wail.

"Nora!" Bart shouted. "Nora, what happened?"

"I… I don't know" Nora waved Hope away as he ran into the kitchen. She walked out onto the balcony and looked up and down the street. A tall, dark plume of smoke had appeared at the edge of the shopping district and this time the sound of gunfire was unmistakable. "There was an explosion and now… now I can hear guns."

"Damn it," Bart growled. "They must have done it." He slammed his hand on his desk. "That was the Western Bypass Tunnel, the one that takes you from one side of the city to the other. They must've…" he had to force the words out. "They' must've blown it up."

"Blown it up?" Nora's knuckles turned white as she clutched the phone tighter and tighter. "Who, Bart? The terrorists?"

"No," Bart said. "It's… it's a containment measure. I just never thought I'd see the day when they actually used it." His voice was frantic. "Look, Nora, take Hope and go. Don't wait, just go. Go, right –"

Static.

"Bart!" Nora shouted. "Bart!"

More static.

"I'm sorry." The voice did not belong to her husband. It was a pre-recorded message spoken in a calm, vaguely pleasant monotone. "But your call cannot be connected. There appears to be a problem with the network. Please call later, or contact your service provider. We apologise for any inconvenience."

Nora sank to her knees on the kitchen floor. Almost on autopilot, she tried to get back through to Bart almost a dozen more times before she gave up. Her phone wasn't even getting a signal anymore, and neither was the landline. Hope's phone didn't work either.

"Hope," she said softly as she turned away from her phone and stood. "Hope, get some clothes and food packed. We're leaving."

Her son's eyes widened. "What? Leaving?" Hope looked back and forth. "Mom?"

Nora bit her lip. "Yes, we're leaving, getting out of the city. Your dad says that something bad is happening, something he doesn't want us to get caught up in." She looked out the window. Tall sheets of black smoke billowed down the street from the shopping district and the gunfire was getting closer and closer. Cars had begun to fill the street, and she realised that if they wanted to get out, they needed to go as soon as they could. "Come on, Hope. We're going now."

After grabbing a few clothes and some food, the two of them raced downstairs into the garage of the apartment. There were other people down there too, and all of them wore the same grim, harried look. A few quick questions confirmed Nora's thoughts. They were all going to try and leave the city.

As they drove toward the south side of town, Nora did her best to ignore the lead weight forming in her gut as she took in the number of other cars headed the same way. The people in all of them looked scared and worried, and it didn't help one bit that the radio kept telling everyone that everything was fine. She almost wanted to turn it off, but she didn't want to risk missing any important announcements.

"Mom, look." Hope pointed behind the car. "Look at that."

Nora glanced into the rear view mirror. The shopping district was almost completely hidden behind a wall of smoke now, and every now and then the deep bass boom of an explosion rocked the ground. No matter what the radio and television said, things were not fine. The shopping district was on fire and there was fighting going on, and no one was saying a thing.

It took them a long time, but they finally managed to make it onto the bridge out of the city. It was a majestic structure, two hundred yards of finely polished stone spanning the river that wound its way through the city. All of the other bridges had been changed to reflect modern standards, but this bridge had been left intact as a reminder of the past.

However, after almost an hour, they had hardly moved at all. The sun was now a dark orange, its light thick and almost oily amidst all the smoke as it sank toward the horizon. Prying her hands off the steering wheel, Nora wound down her window and tapped on the window of the car beside hers. The man at the wheel looked at her for a moment and then wound down his window too.

"Hi," Nora said. "Do you know what's going on? Why isn't anyone moving?"

The man frowned. "I don't know, but I don't like it." He glanced back at the two children in the car with him. "They're not telling us anything."

She nodded. "I know. I… I have a husband who works for the Bureau of Civil Affairs. He said to get out while I still could."

The man's eyes widened. "Really? Well, it's a good thing we're almost out then."

They talked for a few more minutes before a ruckus from up ahead drew their eye. There was someone running their way, and Nora was shocked to see that he was limping badly with a broad splotch of red across his shoulder.

She opened her car door and caught him as he stumbled. "What happened to you?"

The man tried to steady himself, but his eyes were wide and frantic. He pointed back at the end of the bridge. "They've sealed off the end of the bridge!" he cried. "And… and when my brother and I tried to break through… they… they shot at us." He sagged in Nora's grasp. "My brother's dead! They shot him!"

"Hope," Nora said quietly. "Can you pass me the first aid kit we keep in the back?"

Hope nodded slowly. "Okay."

Nora helped ease the man down next to her car. "Just lie still, I need to stop the bleeding." The man's breathing came in short little gasps. "Now, can you tell me what happened?"

"It was Sanctum Security," he said. "They shot us when we tried to get out!"

Nora's eyes widened. Sanctum Security? But that was crazy. Sanctum Security wouldn't shoot at civilians would they?"

"Hey!" the shout came from the man in the car beside her. "Listen, lady, turn your radio onto 102.9!"

Nora was about to stand, but Hope leaned forward to adjust the radio.

"It's okay, mom," Hope said. "I've got it."

There was a moment of static and then a voice came in over the radio, a voice filled with panic and terror.

"It's all lies!" the radio announcer screamed. "The Sanctum has been lying! It's not terrorists of anything like that!" He gasped for air. "There are… there are people wandering around… people who've been… I don't know how to… to put it… They're… they're attacking people and killing people but… but the people they kill aren't staying dead…"

"What?" Hope breathed.

"They're not people any more!" the radio announcer growled. "They're monsters and if any of you can hear me then you need to get out now, get out before those things get you, or Sanctum Security shuts the whole damn city down! Don't stay! Get out now, while you still can!" He trailed off into a sob. "Maker help me, I saw some of them outside and… and… they were… they were eating people!" The radio announcer laughed brokenly. "They're all over the place now. So, if you can you need to –"

There was a crash and the radio announcer let out a scream.

"Don't you point that gun at me!" the radio announcer roared. "You might be Sanctum Security, but the public has a right to know! You can't hide this! You can't –"

Gunfire.

Static.

"We regret to inform you that this radio station is no longer available due to technical difficulties." The words were delivered in the same voice as Nora had heard earlier on her phone. "For further information, please check the official Sanctum station. Updates on the situation are available every fifteen minutes. Above all, please remain calm. Everything is under control."

Nora stumbled against her car and covered her face with her hands. This was insane. What was happening? She felt breathing quicken and had to force herself to calm down.

"We need to get out of here," she said, looking around at the panicked faces in all the cars. They'd all heard the radio broadcast. "We need to get out of here now." She pulled Hope out of the car. "Come on, the traffic isn't moving. We'll have to get out on foot." She bent down to help the injured man up. "You too, you're coming with us."

But before they could even think of moving, people began streaming back from the far end of the bridge toward them.

"What are you all running for?" Nora asked as she grabbed one of them. "What's going on?"

The woman she'd grabbed twisted free and yelled over her shoulder. "They're going to blow the bridge!"

Nora froze. Blow… the… bridge? She swallowed thickly. She wanted to say that she didn't believe it, but right now, she did, she really did. "Let's go."

They were about halfway across the bridge when there was a sound like thunder and the whole bridge began to shake. Nora turned and saw bits of stone flying up into the air along with cars and people. Screams filled the air, but they were drowned out as another explosion rang out and then another and another.

The bridge gave a great groan and then the stone beneath her was moving. Suddenly, Nora was airborne. Lumps of half melted rock and metal streaked past her, and her ears rang. Hope's hand was torn from hers and the two of them were flying, twisting, falling through the air. Beneath her, she saw the whole bridge collapse, people falling into the river. Cars smashed into one another, and she saw the injured man she'd tried to help vanish into the churning water.

Something hit her – a person, their body a mass of mangled and burnt flesh – and she twisted so that instead of the river, she was looking at the horizon. It was beautiful, a haze of orange and gold, its light shimmering through the cloud of smoke that shrouded the city. And then she was falling, the river rising quickly to meet her.

"Hope!" she cried. "Hope!"

And then there was nothing.

X X X

Nora woke on the riverbank somewhere downstream and out of the city. She couldn't tell how much time had passed, but as she forced her battered, aching body to stand, she caught sight of Eden City. It was burning, the tall, graceful buildings wreathed in smoke and flame.

It was almost beautiful.

She took a step and then tripped as her foot snagged on something. She managed to catch herself and then looked down. It was a body. She felt her gorge rise and forced it back as she turned the body over. It was a man, the same man she'd tried to help, but there was nothing she could do for him now, not with his neck bent at that unnatural angle, and his eyes wide and glazed.

A wave of dizziness rushed over her, and she swayed. Blindly, she dropped to her knees and waited for the dizziness to pass. Finally, it did, and she forced herself to stand back up. Where was her son? Where as Hope? She needed to find him. Swallowing back the nausea that came with each step, she picked her way down the riverbank.

She passed a few more people, but all of them were dead. The panic she'd been fighting down since she'd first left the apartment began to bubble up and before she knew it, she was stumbling down the riverbank screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Hope!" she screamed. "Hope, where are you!"

She wasn't sure how long she did that, but finally, finally, someone said something back.

"Mom…" It came out as a low groan, but it was unmistakably Hope's voice.

Ignoring the pain that flared through her body, she broke into a ragged jog, and collapsed onto her knees beside her son. He was lying on his back with a big gash across his forehead and a big bruise on his chin. She probably looked just as bad, but right now she didn't care about herself. So long as he was okay it would be all right, she would be all right.

"Hope!" she cried. "Hope!"

He turned to look at her, but his eyes were slightly glazed and he didn't seem to be able to focus on her. "Mom?"

She wrapped her arms around him and then stopped as he let out a wince. "Are you okay? What… what hurts?"

Hope groaned and managed to sit up. "I… I hurt all over and… and I think my vision is a bit blurry."

Nora nodded. It was most likely concussion. Quickly, she checked him over, but apart from a lot of nasty bruises and the gash to his head, he didn't seem to have any particularly serious injuries. "Can you stand?" she asked. "I… I don't think we should stay here."

He winced again, but managed to stand with her help. "Mom, what are we going to do?"

She looked around. They were both wet and covered in mud. Their first priority had to be to get to somewhere dry and warm, somewhere safe. But before she could say anything, a terrified scream split the air. It came from somewhere further down the riverbank and it lasted for a few seconds before it gave way to screaming of an entirely different kind. It was almost like someone was being torn apart…

"Mom?"

Nora swallowed thickly. That last radio message had spoken of people… people eating each other. Slowly, she bent down and picked up a tree branch that lay half-submerged at the edge of the river. It was about the length of her arm and thick enough that it would make a decent weapon. If that radio message was right, she might need it.

"Come on, Hope," she whispered as another scream filled the air, only to be cut off just like the first. "Let's get out of here."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off this.

I've always had a soft spot for Nora, and I thought it would be nice to give her a little more 'screen time'. The previous two chapters were both set after the outbreak of the infection. However, this one is pretty clearly set during the actual outbreak itself. What I wanted to do was look at how the outbreak might appear to those caught up in it, especially if the government, that is, the Sanctum, decided to try and cover it up.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Fang reached up to adjust her backpack so that it could sit a little more comfortably across her shoulders. It was a little on the small side, and it had certainly seen better days, but Vanille had given it to her, which meant that she wouldn't be getting rid of it any time soon. She chuckled and ran one hand along the worn shoulder strap. It was starting to become a bit of a running joke among the other rangers for the Oerba National Park, but it was all in good fun. Most of them had grown up in Oerba, so they understood that Vanille was the only family Fang really had. Besides, the last person to make fun of the old backpack had ended up taking a bit of a tumble down a hill. Well, not really. Fang had pushed him, but she'd hidden it well enough for it to seem like he'd tripped.

In all seriousness though, she really did need to get a new backpack. Oerba National Park took in some of the toughest territory in the country, and bad equipment could mean the difference between life and death. It wasn't enough that the mountains that dominated the park were tall, windswept peaks that were locked in snow most of the year. No, there was the forest to worry about too. It was thick, reaching right from the outskirts of town to the slopes of the mountains where the icy cold and bitterly sharp wind made it too difficult for even the hardiest plants to last long. Naturally, the park was also filled with wild animals, the vast majority of which were none too friendly.

Of course, the harsh, untamed nature of the park was why it was so popular with tourists. They wanted to come and see the sights, to take in one of the last unspoilt places in the world. Rangers like her were there to keep an eye on them. It was bad for everybody if the tourists got into trouble. Not only was there a lot of paperwork to fill out – seven different forms, actually, if someone decided that it would be wise to pick a fight with a bear – but ever since the peace accord with the Sanctum, the whole region had fallen back on tourism to help rebuild its shattered economy.

Fang, however, hadn't decided to become a ranger for any particularly altruistic reasons. No, it was much simpler than that. She'd seen the way city life chewed people up and spat them out. She didn't want to end up in an office slaving away at some desk filling out forms for the rest of her life. It might be tough, and sometimes it might be pretty dangerous too, but she liked the outdoors and nature too much to do anything else. There was just something right about going about her day with nothing but the sky above her and the earth at her feet.

Spending her time patrolling the park also helped take her mind off Vanille. Ever since the other woman had started at Eden City University, Fang had found herself feeling a little… well, not lonely, but maybe a little detached from Oerba. She liked the place well enough – she'd been born there, after all – but it wasn't home, not without Vanille there, anyway. Sometimes, she wondered if maybe she should have followed Vanille to Eden City. She could have gotten a job there easily enough as a member of the local police force, but she knew, even if Vanille wouldn't say it, that the red head was trying to find a little bit of independence. Vanille had always relied on Fang for everything, but now, well, she wanted to see if she could make it on her own, at least for a little while.

With Vanille gone and apparently settling in very well at university, Fang had jumped at the chance to take on a few extra patrols. Poachers were always a problem for the park, given how rare some of the animals were, and Fang was a better tracker than most. It also helped that she was a very good shot. Not that she'd had to shoot anyone in a while. Putting a bullet into the ground an inch or two from a poacher's foot was usually enough to convince them that trying to run or shoot back would be a very, very bad idea.

Coming to a break in the trees, Fang looked out across the park. It was quite a sight, the kind of thing that made hours of hiking worthwhile. A sea of trees spread out before her, some of them more than one hundred and fifty feet tall. In the distance, the mountains rose through a mist of cloud and snow, each peak a jagged pyramid flung up toward the sky. She sighed. As good as the view was, it was time for her to head back to Oerba. Not only did she need to resupply, she also needed to report back about the poachers. She hadn't found any, but there were signs that a couple had passed through. A few extra patrols were probably in order, although she wasn't looking forward to filling out the request forms too much.

However, there was also another, altogether more pleasant, reason for her to head back to Oerba. Vanille's mid-semester break was coming up in about a week and Fang was hoping to go over there and surprise her. She'd actually been trying to get through to some of the other park rangers stationed in Oerba over the radio, so that they could book tickets for her on the next plane to Eden City, but she hadn't heard back from them yet. She wasn't too worried about that though. A big storm had rolled in about a fortnight ago, and it had probably knocked out the radio tower again. She rolled her eyes. Honestly, that thing was in even worse shape than her backpack. If it weren't for how much of a hassle it would be to replace, they'd have gotten a new one years ago.

A few hours later, and Fang was only a stone's throw away from Oerba and civilisation. A grin slipped onto her face. As much as she loved the outdoors, there was something to be said about a nice, hot shower and an actual bed. The thought of some junk food – French fries and a hamburger – was pretty appealing, as well. It might not be particularly healthy, but she did more than enough exercise to make up for it.

Yet as she got closer to Oerba, Fang felt the first stirrings of unease. Normally the dirt track she was on was bustling with tourists. So far, though, she hadn't seen anyone else. She could also smell a bit of smoke, although that could just be coming from one of the campsites. Lips pursed, she swung her hunting rifle off her backpack and leaned it over her shoulder. She was probably just being paranoid, but maybe a bear had wandered into the campsite just outside of Oerba. It wouldn't be the first time, and it would definitely explain the lack of other people.

Rifle at the ready, she eased down the track and into the campsite. There were tents scattered everywhere along with upturned pieces of furniture. The contents of backpacks littered the ground too, the backpacks themselves ripped apart and tossed aside. Eyes narrowed, she reached down for her radio. What a time for it to stop working.

"This is Fang," she murmured into her radio. "We've got trouble down at the campsite near Oerba. Does anyone copy?"

There was nothing but static, just like she'd gotten for the past fortnight. Damn. She tried one more time.

"This is Fang, we've got trouble down at the campsite near Oerba. Does anyone copy?"

Nothing.

Turning her attention back to the campsite around her, Fang took another look at everything. There didn't seem to be any bodies around, which she supposed was a good thing, but there was some blood, actually, a lot of blood splattered across some of the furniture. Whether it was human blood or animal blood, she couldn't be sure, but whatever it had come from couldn't have gotten far.

A light rustle came from the edge of the trees near the campsite and she whirled around, finger on the trigger of her rifle only to relax a moment later. It was just a rabbit. The little animal stopped just outside of the trees and sniffed the air. A second later it bolted. The smell of blood must have scared it off. Sighing, Fang turned back to the campsite. There wasn't anyone here, but there had to be someone down at the campsite office a bit further down the track that could tell her what was going on.

The campsite office was a wooden log cabin set off the track about half a mile past the campsite. She wanted to run there, but she forced herself to walk. If there was an animal on the loose, then the last thing she wanted to do was just rush in. A bear could kill in the blink of an eye, and her rifle wasn't nearly strong enough to bring down a bear with anything less than a perfect shot. In any case, by the time she got to the campsite office, she was feeling very nervous.

"Hey, anyone there?" she called as she walked up the steps. "Hello?"

She tried the door and when the knob turned, she pushed it open, half expecting to see a pair of her colleagues slacking off over a cup of coffee.

That was not what she saw.

The inside of the cabin looked like a war zone. Paperwork was scattered everywhere and almost every piece of furniture inside was broken. Florid streaks of old blood marred the floor and walls and ceiling. Stunned, Fang took a slow step back. She wanted to close her eyes, but they remained stubbornly open, cataloguing the horror in front of her.

Beneath the toppled table was part of someone's arm. Who it belonged to, Fang couldn't be certain because apart from the palm of the hand and about four inches below the wrist, the rest of it was missing. Forcing back her nausea, she staggered forward. In the corner of the room, propped up against the wall was a park ranger. His arm was covered in bites, but the cause of death was something else. He'd blown a hole right through his own head.

"What the hell is this?" Fang whispered as she sagged against one of the few clean patches of wall. "What the hell happened here?"

Mind still working on autopilot, she took a step closer to the dead ranger. The bites on his arm were far too small to have come from a bear. They didn't like they'd come from a wolf or mountain cat either. No, Fang thought as bile surged up her throat, they looked a lot like they'd come from a person.

Unable to fight back her nausea anymore, Fang stumbled out of the cabin. When she'd finally managed to regather herself, she headed back inside. Despite the carnage within, the cabin had a phone, and someone needed to know about what had happened here. If she was right there was some kind of maniac on the loose.

She dialled the number on the phone and then lifted the phone to her ear. Nothing. There wasn't even a dial tone. After trying a few more times, she put the phone back down. All right, so the phone wasn't working. That was okay. Maybe the phone line had gone down, that had happened before. Hell, maybe whoever had killed the other rangers had brought the phone line down. She'd just have to walk into town then. It wasn't far, and she'd be fine as long as she kept alert. Whoever had gotten these two rangers wouldn't get her.

The walk down to the outskirts of Oerba was only about two miles, but it felt more like two thousand. She hadn't seen anyone else alive yet, and now that she was closer to Oerba, she could see a few thin trails of smoke rising into the air. There was something very, very wrong.

Finally, she stepped off the dirt track and onto a proper road again. Her eyes widened. There were cars on the road, all of them abandoned. They were scattered all over the road, almost as though people had just slammed on the brakes and run off. Swallowing thickly, she realised that there was blood on some of the cars, their windows broken and smashed in. Rifle held tightly, she followed the road back into Oerba.

The town itself was even worse. Just like on the road leading into Oerba, there were cars scattered everywhere, but more than that, there were bodies too. They were covered with bite marks and scratches, and many of them had gunshot wounds too. The windows of all of the shops were broken, and there didn't seem to be any electricity. Hands shaking, she knelt by one particular corpse. It was a young woman, and her legs and chest were riddled with bullets. What sort of person could do this to someone else? And why had they bothered to shoot her in the head, as well? She pulled away. Half the woman's head was missing, and if she looked at it any long she was going to throw up again.

Shell shocked, she continued toward the centre of town. There were more corpses, and all of them had either been shot or else attacked in the most savage of manners. One man's throat had been mangled so badly that his head was barely attached to his body. Not far away, a young boy lay slumped against the broken glass of an electronics store, his arms still raised as though to try and ward off his attacker.

Fang slumped to her knees. What had happened? She'd only been gone three weeks and she'd come back to a town peopled only by the dead. Had the Sanctum attacked? No, that couldn't be it. Even if there were still a few separatist extremists around, there was nothing they could have done that could have earned this kind of response. Besides, if the Sanctum had attacked, they would have used military tactics, and the last Fang remembered biting people's throats out wasn't something soldiers did on a regular basis. Something else must have happened, something horrible. Forcing herself to stand back up, she checked her rifle again. It was fully loaded and she had more ammunition in her pack. If the things that she'd seen were anything to go by, she'd need it.

Right now though, she needed to find some place safe, some place where she could get to a working phone, and hopefully find someone who knew what was going. Her apartment was out of the question. She hardly spent any time there, and it was on the other side of town. The closest place was the orphanage. She and Vanille had grown up there and if anyone could tell her what was going on, the matron could. She was a fixture of the town and nothing happened without her knowing about it.

Mind made up, she jogged down one of the main streets, keeping an eye out for anyone else. Along the way, she did her best to keep her mind focused on her goal. She needed to think about the orphanage and how to get there in one piece. The bodies sprawled on the pavement, and the blood splattered on the streets, those were things she could worry about later. For now, however, she had to push them aside because if she didn't she'd break down, and she absolutely could not afford to do that now.

She passed a gas station, the petrol pumps burning, and then stopped. There was a person there, his silhouette lit by the flames. He must have been in shock or something, because he was just standing there, his shoulders hunched, his face turned away from her.

"Hey!" Fang shouted. "Hey, you! Are you okay?"

She took several steps toward him and then stopped. At the sound of her voice, the man had turned and there was something very, very wrong with him. His eyes were completely black, like two pools of tar, and there was dried blood all over his mouth and down the front of his half-torn shirt. Half of his face was gone, and his movements were stiff, like he'd been doused in icy water.

"Are you… okay?" she asked, taking a slow step back. "Your face… can you talk?"

And then the man let loose a piercing shriek and sprinted right toward her, his hands extended forward like claws, his mouth open and teeth gnashing at the air.

"Stay back!" Fang yelled. "I'm warning you!" He might be injured but every instinct that Fang had was screaming at her that he was dangerous. "I'm telling you, stay back!"

The man lunged at her and Fang ducked beneath his outstretched hands. He whirled around, far faster than she thought possible, and tackled her to the ground. They went down, and Fang's rifle clattered from her hands. He lunged for her throat with his teeth, but Fang slipped one forearm under his neck and shoved him back. As he reeled away, she kicked out and he slammed into a nearby telephone pole.

"What's wrong with you?" Fang growled as she shrugged off her backpack and scrambled for her gun. "Why are you attacking me?"

But the man said nothing. Instead, he screamed wildly and charged at her again. Fang brought her rifle up.

"Stop, stop, or so help me, I'll shoot you!" Fang screamed. "Stop right there!"

He didn't stop.

The rifle jerked and the gunshot snapped out as loud as thunder. The bullet him the man right in the shoulder and he spun in a crazy circle. Then, to Fang's utter disbelief, he steadied himself and charged again. On reflex, Fang pulled the trigger again and then again. The first bullet caught him in the thigh and the second caught him square in the chest. It should have stopped him in his tracks. Hell, it should have killed him. But he was still on his feet, mouth thrown wide open, the muscles in his neck straining as he staggered forward again.

"Sweet Etro," Fang whispered. "What the hell is going on?"

The man stretched one hand out toward her and then rushed forward again, his steps harsh and ungainly as a bone in the thigh she'd shot broke and stabbed out through the skin. Breathing coming in harsh, ragged gasps, Fang raised her rifle and fired, this time at his head. The man's head jerked back and he toppled to the ground. He twitched for a few moments and then lay still.

Fang leaned against a wall. What had just happened? She'd shot him three times before shooting him in the head and any one of those shots should have been enough to have him down on the ground screaming in pain, but he'd just kept on coming like they hadn't even mattered. Only shooting him in the head had done anything. She ran one hand through her hair almost viciously. This was some kind of nightmare. She had to be dreaming, right? Nothing else made any sense.

She got back to her feet. She had to keep a hold of herself. She couldn't panic otherwise… her thoughts trailed off as three people came around the corner.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Hey! Do any of you know what's going on?""

Almost as one, the three people turned to her and she recoiled away as if she'd been struck. They looked just like the man she'd killed, with the freakish black eyes and the strange, jerky movement. Hands shaking, she lifted her rifle. Please Etro, she thought, please don't let them be like him, please don't let them be like him, please don't…

They screamed. And then they charged.

"Stop!" Fang yelled. "Please, stop! For the love of Etro, stop!"

They didn't stop.

Fang fired until her rifle clicked empty, and when she lowered it, the three people were dead. Their twitching bodies lay on the pavement, a hole in each of their heads. Barely able to keep her hands steady, she reloaded her rifle, and then staggered off into an alley to be violently sick. She'd never been bothered by gore before, but then again she'd never had to shoot other people in the head before, either. This was crazy. All of it was damn crazy. She needed to find out what was going on.

Rifle at the ready, Fang sprinted the rest of the way to the orphanage. As she ran, she couldn't help but think about those… people she'd killed. They'd come after her like wild animals. No, not even wild animals attacked like that. They were like that rabid bear she'd had to track once. It had taken her more than ten shots to bring it down, and it hadn't felt a single one of them until she'd finally gotten it in the heart. People like them must have gotten to the campsite somehow. That would explain that arm she'd seen, although it wouldn't explain why the other ranger had shot himself.

Finally, she reached the orphanage. Despite everything that she'd just seen, despite all the broken windows and wrecked shops, it looked just like she remembered. The matron who ran it had been a fixture of Oerban life for decades. The kindly woman had never been able to have children of her own, so she'd converted her own large house into a home for children without parents. It hadn't felt like an institution, not like some of the other orphanages that she and Vanille had been in, it had felt almost like home.

She climbed the steps and tried the door. It was locked and as she circled around to try the windows, she realised that they'd either been boarded over from the inside or blocked with shelves, tables, or other pieces of furniture. Whatever had happened to Oerba, the matron must have had at least a little time to prepare. Of course, that meant that Fang was now stuck outside and the longer she stayed outside, the bigger her chances of running into another one of those crazy people were.

It was a good thing then that there was another way into the orphanage. Back when she and Vanille had been little, they'd used the tree out in front to sneak in and out all the time. It would be a little tougher with her rifle and backpack, but she should still be able to do it. As quickly as she could, she clambered up the tree and then across the branch that led to one of the second storey windows. After a bit of fumbling, she managed to get the window open and she slipped inside.

Inside the room, she felt a fresh stab of worry. There was dust on the shelves, and the matron had always liked to keep things clean. It was also awfully cold even though there was a heater plugged in and set up in the corner of the room. But the worst was still to come. On the bed, tucked in just like he was sleeping, was a little boy. But Fang couldn't hear a thing, and his chest wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. She staggered away and then forced herself over to the bed to check so that she could be certain. He was dead.

Fang felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. He was just a little kid and he was dead. Damn it. What had happened? Where was the matron? She'd never let something like that happen, not if she'd been able to. Was… was she dead too?

Frantic now, Fang went from room to room. In each room it was the same. The children were tucked into their beds, just like they were sleeping, and all of them were dead. Finally, she reached the matron's room.

The matron was covered by several blankets, and for a moment Fang thought that she was dead too, but then she noticed that the old woman was shivering, quaking like a leaf. It had to be the cold. Due to its position up near the mountains, Oerba was cold almost all year round. Even the tourists that came to look around knew enough to dress warmly, and every house had at least a couple of heaters lying around. Dropping her rifle, Fang ran to the bed.

"Matron!" she shouted. "Matron, it's me! It's Fang!"

The old woman stirred and blinked up wearily at Fang. "Fang…" her voice was a dry rasp and Fang felt her hands shake as she helped the matron sit up. "It's you… you're alive…"

"What happened?" Fang asked as she fought back a sob. The matron felt so thin, so light. Fang felt like she was holding a little bird in her arms, like one wrong move could break her. There had been a time when Fang had thought the matron was the strongest person in the world, as solid as a mountain and as certain as the ocean. "Matron, please…"

The matron drew in a deep, ragged breath. "You're real… aren't you? You're real… Fang?"

Fang nodded frantically. "Of course, I'm real! What happened?"

The matron shivered miserably and Fang could tell that it took everything she had just to talk. "Two weeks ago… two weeks ago… people started getting sick… soon… everyone else was sick too." Her breathing hitched and the matron swallowed a sob. "Then… then they changed… started attacking everyone… they… they were like animals… killing people and eating them… and when people got bitten… they got infected too… and turned into them…" She coughed and the sound was a horrible thing to hear. "I was supposed to go shopping the day it all went wrong… but… but I had a cold… I'm not so young anymore, you see… so I… I stayed home…" She shook. "I… I barred the doors… and the windows… and we all hid… but then the power failed… and we ran out of food… and then the water stopped working…" The matron began to sob, and without even realising it, Fang began to rock her back and forth. "It gets so cold at night… and without power… the heaters wouldn't work… and… and I didn't dare burn anything in the fireplace in case those… those things noticed and came for us…" She clutched at Fang's arm. "I had… two helpers… they tried to go out and get food and more blankets… but they never came back… they never came back… and…" Tears trickled down her cheek. "And then… and then the kids… the cold… and without food or water… they… they… I tried, Fang! I tried! But I couldn't… I couldn't do anything for them… and if I… if I just hadn't gotten sick… if I'd gone shopping then maybe… maybe…"

Fang closed her eyes. Her chest felt like it was on fire. She could see it now. The matron and the children huddling in the cold dark rationing off what little food and water they had, too scared to go outside because everyone who had gone outside hadn't come back. Instead, those thing… those… Infected had gotten them. Maker! What must it have been like? The streets filled with people fighting and dying. And what could it have been like to see your own friends turn into those things? To have to shoot people you actually knew and loved. And finally, the children must have died, one by one from the cold, and thirst, and hunger. And the matron, dear Etro, the matron must have been the one to tuck them in, because she couldn't even go outside to bury them. And the sounds… Etro… they must have been able to hear the sounds of all the killing going on outside as the Infected turned on everyone. And even after all the sounds had stopped, the fear would have been there… the fear that if they went outside, if they made too much noise, if they were just unlucky, the Infected would find them.

"It's okay," Fang whispered. "It's okay. You tried your best." A tear trickled down her cheek and then another and another. "You tried your best, I know you did."

The old woman wept in Fang's arm for a moment and then gathered her strength again. "You have to go, Fang. Oerba is dead. Everyone is dead." Her voice broke. "Go."

"Okay," Fang said softly. "Okay, but you're coming with me, matron, okay?"

The matron shook her head. "No." She took a long, deep breath, her thin frame rattling. "No. I've got nothing left… nothing left at all." She reached up, hand shaking, and brushed the tips of her fingers along Fang's cheek. "You know… you were always a troublemaker, right from the start. But you were always my favourite…" She sighed. "Go…"

And then she was gone.

"Matron…" Fang whispered. "Matron!" But the old woman was still and silent.

Slowly, Fang let go of the matron. Then, she tidied the blankets and tucked her in, just like she'd been taught all those years ago. That was all she could manage before she stumbled into the hallway so that she could curl up into a ball and cry.

She cried, and not just for the matron. She cried for all of the children lying cold and dead in their beds and all the people she'd seen in the streets. She cried for the Infected too. They'd been people once, but now they were monsters. Finally, when she found the strength to stand, she took her binoculars from her backpack and made her way up onto the roof of the orphanage. The whole town was dead. The only things she could see moving were the Infected. Downstairs, she found a radio, a stronger one, but almost all of the channels were down. The few she could pick up only confirmed her worst fears. The Infected weren't just in Oerba. They were everywhere.

There was nothing more she could do to help here. She needed to find Vanille, and that meant she needed to find a way to get to Eden City. Planes were out of the question now. She'd have to drive there. But first, there were things she had to do. Over the next few days, she gathered supplies, raiding the few remaining supermarkets for anything that would keep, along with weapons and ammunition. There wasn't much, but there was no telling when she'd have a chance to resupply.

As for a car, the matron's car was still in the garage and in good working order. A bitter smile crossed her face. The matron could easily have used it to try and escape, but it wouldn't have been able to fit all the children, and she'd never have left without all of them. However, it was more than big enough for Fang and her supplies.

When Fang had gathered everything she could, she took several jerry cans of fuel and starting from the orphanage, she worked her way up and down the street, dousing every building with petrol. When she drove away early the next morning, it was to roar of flames.

Oerba was dead and if Fang couldn't bury its people, she'd give them a funeral pyre instead.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off this.

I'd like to apologise to anyone who thought that Fang might have an easy time of this. It's a zombie apocalypse. Nobody gets off easy. Nor do people turn into zombie slaughter ninjas overnight. What I wanted to do in this chapter was to look at how Fang coped with the initial outbreak. Some of you may also have noticed some of the parallels with Lightning's chapter. This was done on purpose. Deep down inside, I believe that Fang and Lightning are similar in many ways. In a situation like a zombie apocalypse, both of them would, I think, turn to the most important people in their lives to give themselves some sort of purpose. Both of them would also struggle to accept the sheer horror of what has happened before trying to deal with it as best they can.

Also, if you're wondering where the other characters are, you needn't worry. One way or another, I'll be showing what happens to them. Hopefully, they all turn out okay, but I'm not making any promises. It is, after all, a zombie apocalypse.

On a related, the scenario with the orphanage was one that I've wanted to address for a while. Most people don't actually keep that much food on hand. Indeed, there are people who live almost day-to-day, with next to nothing stored for later consumption. In the event of a zombie apocalypse, people who don't have enough food or water are going to have to make a choice: they can either stay inside and starve, or they can take their chances outside with the zombies. The loss of power would also mean that in cold areas, the normal means of heating, such as electric heaters, would no longer work. Tap water would also be quite likely to fail once a zombie apocalypse got under full swing. The matron and the children died not from a single factor, but from a combination of hunger, thirst, cold, and the enormous stress of their situation.

So, zombie apocalypses aside, if you do live in a disaster prone area, make sure that you have enough essential supplies. In the event of a flood or hurricane, it's very easy to get cut off from the outside world and while canned food may be miserable, it's a great deal better than starving. You don't have to become a survivalist, but it's always a good idea to be prepared. Anyway, enough of that – this is supposed to be an author's note, not a guide on what to do during an emergency.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sazh peered at the road ahead and frowned. It was bad enough that they had to drive at night, but the rain was coming down so hard that he could barely see anything at all, even with the four-wheel drive's headlights on as high as they would go. As if that wasn't bad enough, months without maintenance and a long patch of bad weather had turned small potholes and cracks in the road into death traps that could easily crash the car or blow a tyre.

"Maybe we should stop, daddy," Dajh said. "It's looks pretty bad outside."

Sazh nodded grimly. "It does, but we can't stop here." He slowed a little and guided the car around a pothole that took up almost half the road. "This storm looks like it might get worse and if we're still outside when it does then things are going to get pretty bad for us."

"Okay." Dajh settled back into his seat and took another bite of his chocolate bar. "Where are we going to stop then?"

Sazh took a deep breath and decided that it would be best to tell the truth. Besides, Dajh was a smart kid and if he lied, it wouldn't be long before Dajh picked up on it. With the world the way it was, the last thing he wanted was for Dajh to not trust him. "I'm not sure yet. I thought we'd find some place along the road, but we haven't passed anything yet."

A sign loomed up ahead through the gloom and Sazh stepped on the brakes. The vehicle shuddered to a halt a few yards past the sign and he grimaced before reversing until they were level with the sign again. It wasn't pleasant reading. The road they were on split up about a mile ahead. One branch of the road went right through what he knew was a mid-sized town, and towns that size were nothing if not dangerous. However, the other two branches went around the town through some pretty rough terrain.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He'd driven through here once, those roads around town got pretty dicey when the weather got bad. There was a pretty good chance that he and Dajh would get bogged down, or worse, caught up in flooding. If that happened, then they'd be sitting ducks for any Infected, not to mention they'd have to cope with a whole night of bad weather. He might not like it, but driving through town was probably the safest choice. Still, if they were lucky, maybe the Infected had already moved on. They might even find some place to hole up for the night.

"Dajh, we're going to be driving through town," Sazh said. The boy perked up a little in surprise. "Keep your eyes open, okay?"

Dajh nodded solemnly. Two pairs of eyes were always better than one. "Okay, daddy."

For a while things were okay. The road evened out a little as they got closer to town and even the outskirts of the town itself weren't that bad. Like so many other places, abandoned cars filled the streets along with bigger pieces of debris. Ruined buildings lay open to the stormy sky, the roofs burned out and fallen in, and more than one apartment building had water gushing from the windows of the top floors. It was a sorry sight, but compared to some of the things he and Dajh had seen it wasn't too bad.

Things got worse as they got closer to the centre of town. None of the stores had any intact windows left and more than once the headlights of the four-wheel drive played across bodies made pale by countless days of lying in first the sun and then the rain. When that happened, he almost wanted to turn the headlights off to spare Dajh the sight, but he couldn't do that, not without risking a crash.

So far there hadn't been any sign of the Infected, but he knew better than to relax. It usually took the Infected a few weeks to move on once they'd killed everyone, and in a town this size, there were almost certainly still a few hanging around. Idly, he wondered if there were any survivors, but just as quickly as the thought had come, it passed. It had been weeks since he and Dajh had seen anyone else and he was beginning to think that maybe there wasn't anyone else left. Maybe that made him a pessimist, but so far being a pessimist had kept the two of them alive.

And then the worst happened. Seeing the street clear up a little, Sazh decided to push the car along a little faster only he didn't see the pothole hidden in the shadows of a downed telephone pole. They hit the pothole and the whole vehicle shuddered as two loud bangs filled the air one after another, so loud that he could hear them easily even with the rain pelting down. The car began to skid and Sazh fought for control. Somehow, he managed to bring the car to a stop without hitting anything else.

"Are you okay, Dajh?" he asked, his breath coming in great gulps. Damn, his heart was beating so loudly it was like thunder in his ears. "Dajh, are you okay?"

The boy shook himself and nodded slowly. Good, he was just a little shocked. Sazh didn't know what he'd do if Dajh got hurt. Would there even be any point to going on if Dajh wasn't there. "I'm okay, daddy. What happened?"

Sazh tried to steer the car back onto the middle of the road, but was immediately greeted by the sound of metal grinding on concrete. That wasn't good. From the sound it, he'd probably blown both of the tyres on the right side. Now that left him with two choices, neither of them good. He could either get out now to change the tyres, or they could try and push on anyway and probably ruin the car. He took several deep breaths. There was nothing for it, he'd have to get out and change the tyres. If the car broke down, they'd be stuck on foot without the ability to carry most of their supplies. In other words, they'd be sitting ducks.

Well, at least he'd had the foresight to take a full set of tyres from the last place they'd stopped in. It had been a real hassle getting them strapped down on top of the four-wheel drive's roof, but right now all that fiddling around was paying off.

"All right, Dajh, we're going to have to go outside for a bit to change the tyres." He reached into the backseat and handed the boy a raincoat. Not only would it keep Dajh dry, the bright yellow colour meant that Sazh would never lose sight of him. "Put this on."

Dajh nodded and quickly squirmed into the raincoat. It made Sazh's heart twist a little. His son shouldn't have to go outside into the pouring rain like this, but there wasn't much of a choice. He needed to get the tyres changed as quickly as possible and that meant someone else needed to keep watch.

"All set?" Sazh asked. Dajh grinned. "Good, let's go. Now, remember, don't just look one way, you need to keep an eye out in all directions, okay?"

The two of them got out of the car and Sazh took a moment to make sure that he had all of his weapons. If things went well then they'd be gone in a few minutes, if not, the weapons might make the difference between life and death. Wrapping his arms around Dajh, he lifted the boy up onto the roof so that he had a clear view of everything around them – at least, as clear a view as the darkness and rain allowed.

"Can you get the tyres untied?" Sazh asked.

"Right." It took a little bit of fumbling and then Dajh nodded. "Okay, daddy, they're untied."

Sazh grit his teeth and reached up to pull the first tyre down. Putting the tyres on the roof probably wasn't the best idea, but there really wasn't anywhere else to put them. His back creaked as he eased the tyre down onto the ground at his feet. Well, that was step one out of the way, now to get the rest of it done.

As quickly as he could, Sazh got the first damaged tyre off and replaced it with the one he'd taken off the roof. It was tough going though. The rain made everything wet and slick, and his fingers were so cold that he could barely feel them. But he forced himself to push on. The longer they stayed here, the more likely it was that some Infected might come along drawn by either their headlights or by the sound the tyres had made as they'd blown.

Finally, it was time to move onto the second wheel, but just as he reached up to pull it off the roof, he heard Dajh give a frightened gasp.

"What is it, son?"

"Over there, daddy!" Dajh shouted, pointing into the darkness. "Over there!"

Sazh squinted and reached for his shotgun, flicking on the flashlight that he'd taped onto the barrel. "Where?"

"There!" Dajh cried, pointing again, this time with his own flashlight. "Over there!"

Once again, Sazh peered through the shadows and rain, the wind whipping across his cheeks as great rivulets of water ran through his hair. He bit his lip. There they were, just at the end of the street, a small group of Infected. At this distance, they looked almost human, the water logged clothes they wore little more than rags, but no human could move the way they did, their limbs jerking back and forth almost mechanically. But then the Infected turned toward them and their movements loosened as first one and then another let loose a high-pitched wail and charged. There was nothing mechanical about them now. No, they were like rabid animals, their mouths opened to reveal teeth stained with old blood.

Sazh glanced down at the second damaged tyre. There was no way that he'd be able to replace it before the Infected reached them, and it wasn't like they could just drive away either. They'd have to fight and hope that more Infected weren't drawn by all the shooting.

"Stay up there, Dajh!" Sazh ordered as he reached up to wipe the rain off his face. "And be reedy to run if you have to."

The first of the Infected reached them a moment later and leapt straight at Sazh with an incoherent cry of rage. He fired his shotgun and the Infected spun away, one arm dangling, as its feet skidded along the wet concrete. Another shot hurled it back into an abandoned car, and its now headless body slid slowly to the ground amidst a sickly pool of red.

"Watch out, daddy!" Dajh screamed

Sazh turned and the next two Infected were on him in a flash. One clawed at his face and he jerked away, only to trip over a crack in the street. He hit the ground with a thud and the Infected followed him down, screaming and baying like a bull. Snarling, he smashed the shotgun into the side of its head and threw it off.

"Daddy, help!"

Sazh's eyes whipped back to the four-wheel drive. The other Infected had chosen to ignore him in favour of Dajh. Rage coursed through his veins and he fired. The blast knocked the Infected right off the back of the four-wheel drive. It landed on its back, blown almost in half, and he would have finished it then and there when the other Infected lunged at him again.

He slammed the stock of the shotgun down on the Infected's head and there was a wet crunch as part of its skull gave way. But somehow it kept on coming and with another bestial roar of fury, it drove him back onto the ground. His head hit the ground hard and sparks flashed across his vision as the Infected grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and slammed him against the ground again and again. His shotgun slipped from suddenly numb fingers and he felt the darkness close in. Seeing him go limp for a moment, it reared up, broken jaws opening far wider than should be possible.

"Daddy!" Dajh wailed. "Daddy, you have to fight!"

It was Dajh's voice that brought him back. His son should never have to sound so afraid. The Infected lunged for his throat and he jerked to the side. Its face hit the pavement and it let loose another howl before it drew its head back to try again. Gritting his teeth, Sazh grabbed it by the throat with one hand, his arm screaming at the effort needed to hold it back. Blindly, he fumbled for his knife with his other hand and the moment the weapon was free he shoved the Infected back and slashed up and across.

The Infected shrieked as the knife cut into its throat and Sazh grabbed it by the arm and pulled so that now he was on top of it. Shaking the water off his face, he threw all of his weight onto the knife, feeling a moment's resistance before it cut through first the cartilage of the Infected's throat and then on through its spine. The Infected twitched and clawed weakly at the air, but a final savage jerk of the knife all but cut off its head and Sazh stumbled away. Beside the four-wheel drive, the last of the Infected gave a weak groan and Sazh grabbed what looked like part of a street sign and beat its head in.

"Damn it," he muttered as he checked himself for any bite marks. Good, there weren't any. "I'm getting too old for this." He staggered backward and would have fallen but small hands were there to steady him. "Dajh?" He blinked down at the boy who'd hopped off the roof to help him.

"Are you okay, daddy?" Dajh asked.

Sazh forced himself to smile. "I'll be fine, son, just give me a moment to catch my breath." He walked over to where his shotgun was. "Now, how about we finish up –" He stopped dead as another set of inhuman cries rose over the staccato of rain on concrete. Damn it, more Infected were headed their way. This was why he hated large towns. Wincing, he took one look at how many there were and knew right away that they couldn't afford to fight out in the open again. But where could they go? He glanced around from side to side. There was a building beside them, a small shopping mall that they might be able to hide in.

"Come on, son, we need to move." He grabbed Dajh's hand. "If we're lucky we'll be able to come back and get the car in the morning."

Almost running, he led Dajh into the shopping mall. There was a map right by the doors and he took a moment to glance over it before he led them across the broad open space in front of the doors and up the first set of escalators. The power was out so the escalators weren't working, but that didn't matter. If the Infected went after them, they'd have to go up the escalators one at a time, which would go a long way toward evening the odds.

They had just reached the top of the escalators when the first of the Infected burst through the doors. It was eerie watching them shamble across the floor of the shopping mall, the faded linoleum splattered with old bloodstains and other debris.

"Get back, son," Sazh whispered. "And if something happens to me, you run, okay? You don't try and help, you just run."

The Infected hit the escalators at a full sprint and Sazh brought his shotgun up. He waited until the first of them was halfway up before he fired. The Infected jerked away, one leg blown off, its chest in ruins, and as it toppled back it took another down with it before the others clambered over them, hands held out like claws.

He fired three more times before the shotgun clicked empty, each shot either killing one of the Infected outright or throwing them back down to the bottom of the escalators. But that hardly seemed to matter as another four of them arrived, drawn by the gunshots and screams, not to mention the blood.

Drawing his pistol, Sazh narrowed his eyes. He had to pick his shots carefully now. A good shotgun blast to the body might not kill an Infected outright, but it could do enough damage to stop them for quite a while. However, the same couldn't be said for a pistol. When it came to small arms fire, anything less than a shot to the head was useless.

"Come on," Sazh growled. "Come on!"

He held back until the Infected were almost on top of him before he fired. His first shot caught the closest of the Infected right above the eye, and as it staggered back, he lunged forward and kicked it down the escalators. Its body thumped off the railing of the escalator and then tipped over the side, landing with a wet thump on the ground below.

The other three Infected reached him together and he fired quickly, dropping one to its knees and catching another with two lucky shots to the jaw. It spun away, half of its head gone and then sagged to the ground. The third Infected grabbed his jacket, and Sazh cursed as it threw him into the railing by the escalators. The railing gave an ominous groan, and he scrambled to his feet just in time to pump two rounds into the Infected's chest as it leapt toward him. It stumbled back a few steps and then charged forward again.

The Infected rammed right into Sazh and he cursed as they hit the already weakened railing again. He felt the railing give a little and he gathered every bit of strength he had to turn and throw the Infected over it. The Infected went over the railing and hit the ground head first, the body twitching for a moment before it went still.

Dragging in a few desperate breaths, he turned back to the last of the Infected, the one he'd hobbled earlier. Now that he had the time to look at it properly, he could see that it had been a teenage girl. It was wearing a torn sundress and he felt bile burn at the back of his throat as he realised that even with its knees shot out it was still trying to crawl toward Dajh. Hands shaking a little, he took aim and fired twice to put it out of its misery.

"You okay, Dajh?" Sazh asked.

"I'm okay." Dajh ran his flashlight over the Infected. Just like Sazh had taught him, the boy was checking to make sure that they were really dead. "What about you, daddy?"

"Don't you worry, Dajh, you're daddy's too tough to let something like this get to him." Sazh tried to laugh but stopped when it turned out to be painful. Damn, he hated to admit it, but he hadn't been in the best of shape when the whole world had gone to hell and even if he'd toughened up a lot since then, he wasn't a young man anymore. He couldn't just get into fights like this and shrug off all the bruises like they were nothing. But for Dajh he'd try. His son was still too young to fend for himself and even if there wasn't anyone else in the world but the two of them, he'd still try his hardest to give Dajh the best life that he could. If a few aches and pain were what it took to keep Dajh safe, well that was just fine with him.

"Okay, let's take a look around, Dajh," Sazh said as he reloaded his weapons. "And keep your eyes open, there might be a few more Infected around."

Dajh nodded and the two of them headed off to take a look around. The shopping mall wasn't big, but all the open spaces and empty stores made him nervous. There were too many places for the Infected to hide. It didn't help matters that the roof had collapsed in a few places, letting the rain pour in. Not only did that make it hard to hear anything, it made it pretty cold inside as well. At least Dajh was okay – his raincoat had kept him pretty dry – and Sazh's jacket was waterproof, so it wasn't too bad. Still, was it too much to ask for a couple of things to go their way for once?

They needed some place with a door to bed down in for the night, but so far, none of the stores they'd passed were intact. Behind Sazh, Dajh was keeping a look out for anything that tried to sneak up on them, his flashlight constantly moving from store to store and over all the dark places where the Infected could hide. It made Sazh a little sad to see just how quickly Dajh had gotten used to living like this, to living a life were being paranoid was the only way to stay alive.

Finally, they found a store that looked promising. The sign on top, faded and half broken, said that it was a pet store, but the most important thing was that it still had working shutters at the front. All of the animals seemed to be gone – either the Infected had gotten them, or someone had been decent enough to let them out – so the place didn't really smell.

"Stay behind me, Dajh," Sazh said. "We're going to take a look inside."

They took a quick look around the inside. The store wasn't large, just one big room at the front and a smaller one at the back, but it was dry and after a few attempts, Sazh was able to get the shutters all the way down. They wouldn't hold an Infected out for long, but any attempt to get through them would definitely wake Sazh up, no matter how deeply he was sleeping. There was even a window in the back room that they could climb out of if they needed to.

"Okay, we'll be staying here for the night," Sazh said. "Come morning, we'll take a look outside."

Dajh nodded and then pointed at something on one of the almost empty shelves. "Look, daddy! Look!"

Sazh followed Dajh over to one of the shelves. There, hidden amongst a pile of shredded newspaper, was a chocobo egg. Not too far away there were a few other eggs, but they all looked to have hatched at least a few days ago by the looks of things. That meant there had to have been someone around here until recently because there was no way that the eggs could have survived this long on their own. Whoever they were, he hoped the Infected he'd just killed hadn't gotten them.

"Can we keep it?" Dajh asked excitedly, lifting the egg up carefully and holding it up to his flashlight. "Please, daddy, can we keep it?"

Sazh looked down at the egg and sighed. They were already in a tight spot and there was no telling if it would be any better in the morning. The car should be fine. They'd closed the doors and the Infected weren't going to attack it if there was no one inside. But a chocobo egg? Even if it did hatch, what were they going to do with a chocobo? They weren't exactly in a position to being keeping a pet, not with the limited supplies they had and the situation they were in. Yet looking into Dajh's eyes he knew what his answer would be. It didn't matter if it was probably stupid, but in a world full of the angry dead, maybe raising a little bit of new life would help keep both of them sane.

"I guess so, son," Sazh said as he pulled several cloths off the shelf. "Wrap it up in these. We'll bring it back with us tomorrow." He sighed and settled down against the wall opposite the shutters. "Now, how about we get some sleep? If we're lucky it'll stop raining before tomorrow morning."

Dajh nodded and settled in next to him, the chocobo egg set a little ways away in a small nest of shredded newspaper and cloth. "Good night, daddy."

Sazh ruffled Dajh's hair and then checked to make sure that his weapons were all within easy reach. "Good night, son." A small smile crossed his face. It was funny how things changed. Here the two of them were sleeping in an abandoned shopping mall with a chocobo egg for company. Honestly, the world was one messed up place.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off this.

My apologies for the delay, but I've been working on a few others things in the meantime, such as my Sailor Moon story. If you think this delay was bad, my longest break between chapters for that story is something like a year and a half. Anyway, we're back to Sazh, and for some reason, whenever I write anything with Sazh in it for this story, it always ends up with him kicking ass. Oh well, somebody's got to do the ass kicking, and I suppose it's about time that Sazh got to do it. Rest assured, however, that Lightning and the others will also be doing plenty of ass kicking as well.

One thing that I like about writing Sazh and Dajh is the fact that I can't just have Sazh go all Rambo on the Infected because he has to worry about Dajh. Indeed having to babysit Ashley Graham was one of the things I liked most about Resident Evil 4 – I couldn't just grab my guns and go in there circle strafing and kill everything, because if I tried, Ashley would end up dead and I'd lose. Sazh is in a similar kind of predicament. Everything he does has to be done with Dajh in mind, which isn't something that Fang or Lightning have to worry about, although it is something that Nora has to worry about. Of course, it won't be just Sazh and Dajh for much longer. As you've probably guessed that chocobo egg belongs to a certain irrepressible chocobo chick. Sazh is definitely going to have his work cut out for him.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Lightning eased the sedan to a stop at the side of the highway and climbed out. She was so close to Eden City now, so close that despite the fatigue that dulled her senses and made every movement a chore, it took everything she had to stop herself from getting back into the car and flooring the gas pedal. Just a little bit more and she'd find Serah, and once she did, she'd never let her sister out of her sight again. Even if the whole world went to hell, they'd be okay because they still had each other, and they'd already been through hell once before anyway.

But as much as she wanted to just charge into Eden City, she knew she couldn't. The last few months had drummed a single, brutal lesson into her head: populated places were dangerous. The Infected were more numerous in towns than they were on the open road, and a city had to be even worse. There was no telling how many places they had to hide, and if what she'd seen before was anything to go by the streets of Eden City would be clogged by cars. She couldn't afford to get trapped or to damage the sedan. If that happened, she'd be stuck on foot, and that was nothing short of a death sentence.

Still, not everything was bad. She wasn't running low on ammunition, even if it had been almost a fortnight since she'd been able to really resupply. The closer she'd gotten to Eden City, the more police and Sanctum Security officers she'd come across. They were all dead, of course, but their ammunition was still good. Taking the ammunition from their bodies should have disgusted her, but she couldn't find it in her to care. They were dead and the dead had no use for bullets.

What she needed to do now before she drove into Eden City was find some high ground so that she could see what lay ahead of her. If the whole place were crawling with Infected, she'd need to come up with a plan. There was also no telling if the bridges into the city were still around. Back in Nautilus, back when there had still been enough of them to make a difference, Amodar had ordered them to destroy the bridges into and out of the city. It had slowed the Infected down for a while, but in the end, it hadn't mattered much. Somehow, the Infected had just kept on coming, and it wasn't long before they'd gotten everyone else. She wouldn't be surprised if the Eden City authorities had taken a similar approach.

"Stop wasting time," Lightning whispered. "Get to work." Over the past few days she'd started talking to herself, just a couple of words at first, but she was now up to complete sentences. She didn't know why she did, it but there was something soothing about hearing someone's voice – even if it was her own – after so many days of silence broken only by the screams and howls of the Infected.

She checked all of her weapons and tightened the straps of the small backpack she wore and then walked over to the side of the highway to peer over the railing. The river was down there, and although the embankment was steep, she needed to make sure that there weren't any Infected down there. They might look clumsy most of the time, but the Infected changed when they sighted prey. They got faster, stronger, more coordinated.

The river was littered with debris. Large pieces of mangled metal and half-melted stone stuck out of the shallower parts along with the upended skeletons of cars. Bodies lay along the riverbank and most of them were picked almost clean, either by scavengers or the Infected. Many of the bodies bore the marks of the Infected: the flesh torn away and the bones smashed and scattered about. However, not all of the bodies bore the marks of the Infected. There were others, too many others, which appeared to have been shot.

Fists clenched, Lightning turned away. Those people down there had probably tried to leave the city, only to be gunned down by the Sanctum Security forces dispatched to try and contain the spread of the Infected. That was the most likely possibility. Another possibility was that as the Infection had spread, those people had turned on each other. She'd seen that in Nautilus. Her own squad mates had turned on each other, driven mad by their fear of the Infection, until eventually some of them had gone beyond simple accusations and decided to shoot at anyone they thought might be Infected. Even her. Only Amodar had stayed calmed, but in the end, even that hadn't been enough. Out of everyone, she was the only person to make it out. Everyone else had either gotten killed or Infected.

"Enough," she whispered. "Enough. Get moving."

Shaking her head to clear away the memories, she shouldered her rifle and began to walk through the long grass that lined the other side of the highway. There was a large building about a hundred yards away. It looked like a tourist attraction of some kind, a viewing platform, or something like that. Whatever it was, if she could get to the top of it, she'd have a good view of everything all the way up to Eden City.

She moved carefully toward the building, her eyes moving quickly back and forth as the long grass swayed in the breeze. There could be Infected anywhere, and she wasn't about to die, not now, not when she was so close. Finally, she reached the building, and she did a slow circuit around it before she climbed the steps up to the door.

The door was locked and she took a second to make sure that all of her weapons were ready before she surged forward and kicked the front door as hard as she could. The door broke off its hinges and clattered into a table in the foyer. Brightly coloured pamphlets scattered across the floor as a wave of dust billowed outward. As the dust cleared, she waited patiently, her eyes drawn to the grimy, blood stained floor. If there were any Infected nearby, the noise should draw them out and at least she'd have a clear line of sight and an easy path to retreat along if things got bad.

A minute passed without any sign of movement and she stepped inside the door. There was a light switch right beside the door and she reached out to try it. It was only just after noon, but most of the windows had been boarded over and there was little light save that which spilled through the doorway. A faint hiss filled the air and then lights all around her came to life. Interesting. The building must run off solar power, because she'd checked the power in the last town she'd been in, which was only a day's drive away, and there hadn't been any.

Eyes narrowed in concentration, Lightning inched past the foyer and toward the large staircase that took up most of the next room. She passed several doors along the way and stopped to take a quick look inside each of them. What she saw didn't surprise her. There was debris scattered everywhere beneath a thick layer of dust and blood. A few months ago the sight would have unnerved her, but after seeing so much death, she'd become oddly numb to it all. Idly, she wondered just when exactly she'd stopped caring.

Or had she?

A thought of the farmhouse she'd passed flashed through her mind, but she shoved it down ruthlessly. Those people didn't matter anymore. They were dead, dead by their own hand, and there was nothing more she could do for them. Dwelling on them would only get her killed. She needed to focus, to deal with the present, and plan for the future. So long as she kept doing that she'd be able to find Serah and keep the two of them alive.

But not all of the rooms were useless to her. In one of the rooms, she found several maps of Eden City, the kind they gave out to tourists, the kind with bright colours and smiling people on it. She doubted they'd be smiling now, and that was assuming that they were even alive. There was also a map of Eden City University, and she carefully put both of the maps into her backpack. It had been a while since she'd been to Eden City, and she didn't know it well enough to get around without a map.

"Lucky me," she murmured. "Lucky me."

At the foot of the staircase she paused, eyes and ears straining for any sign of the Infected. After a few moments, she moved on, climbing the first few stairs and then peering up again. The staircase was like a big helix, winding around and around until it reached the top of the building. There were doors all along the staircase, which made it just perfect for an ambush. But it wasn't like she had much of a choice.

Finger on the trigger of her rifle, she continued to climb the stairs. With each step, the stairs creaked and groaned beneath her, a song of old wood and worn out plastic. As she shifted to get a better view of one of the doors ahead of her, her shoulder brushed against the banister. The banister gave a sharp crack and then fell away, crashing onto the ground far below. Instantly, she froze, and pressed herself against the wall.

"Calm down. It was just the banister. Keep moving." She dragged in a deep breath. "Keep moving."

However, she hadn't climbed more than a few steps further before she heard it. It was the sound of something other than her moving around nearby. Slowly, she eased back a step and then another. Suddenly, the door behind her burst open and she spun, rifle at the ready. Something lunged at her, clawing and grabbing at her.

"Thank the Maker you're here! I didn't think that anyone else was –"

The man – and it was a man – didn't say anything else, because Lightning was already moving, body driven by months of instinct. Her rifle jerked up and clipped him under the chin. The man gave a sharp cry and jerked away. For a split-second, he hung there, balanced on the edge of the step, eyes wide with fear and horrified disbelief. And then gravity took over and he tumbled backward, rolling end over end down the stairs until he came to a rest against the wall almost two dozen steps below.

"What?" Lightning whispered. "What?"

All of a sudden, her rifle felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, and it nearly slipped from her hands as she practically tripped down the stairs in her haste to get to the man. He'd said something to her, which meant that he wasn't Infected. He wasn't Infected! She crouched by his side and hurriedly took his pulse. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't. But he was.

"I killed him." She slumped back against the wall beside the body. She'd killed so many Infected, but this was the first other person she'd seen in more than a month and she'd just killed him. A bitter laugh bubbled up and she closed her eyes as tears trickled down her cheeks. What was the point of it all? He'd been just like her, holding out and hoping and hoping, only to finally meet someone and then what? He'd ended up dead because of her. It was her fault. It was her damn fault.

Yet even as the guilt threatened to overwhelm her, the brutally logical part of her mind began to kick in. It was the part that had helped her last this long, the part that let her do the most horrible things in order to survive. Silently, she stood and studied the man more intently. He was emaciated, his ribs and other bones poking out. Clearly, he hadn't eaten properly in weeks. That would explain why he'd been so weak and why he hadn't immediately announced himself. He'd been too exhausted to think clearly, too relieved to finally have someone else around to realise that just lunging out at her was not the best thing to do.

"Yes," she murmured. "He should have known better." She realised that she was rocking herself back and forth and forced herself to stop. "He would have died anyway, even if I hadn't come here." Yes, clearly, he'd been too scared to go outside, even if it was just to get food. It wasn't her fault. It was just bad luck. "By the Maker, I'm such a damn monster." She giggled. "But I have to be. There are real monsters now."

Still shaking a little, she turned away from the body and resumed her climb up the stairs. As she passed the door that the man had come out of, she paused and then turned inside. It stank. Badly. She stepped over a pile of empty cans – spaghetti, stew, soup – and stopped at a desk propped up against the far wall. There was a radio there along with a thick notebook.

She reached for the radio and gave the dials on it an experimental turn. Nothing. Peering at it more closely, she realised that there were cracks along the casing and on a whim she picked it up and shook it. A rattling noise came from inside and she realised that it was broken. Damn. It was the notebook that told her why. The man had tried to reach others for help only to find that the Infection had engulfed everything. The entries in the notebook grew more and more ragged as the days passed and all radio contact ceased. He'd probably broken the radio then, as much out of fear and panic, as actual frustration. After a moment of thought, she decided to put the notebook in her backpack as well. She hadn't had time to read all of it, and there might be something useful there. If nothing else, she might find out where people had tried to make a stand. They might not be there any more, but their supplies might have survived.

After she left the man's room, she didn't run into any more trouble and it wasn't long before she reached the top of the building. Like she'd suspected, there was a large open viewing platform at the top with a spectacular view. She could see all the way to Eden City and the whole plain around her was laid bare. Moving toward the edge of the platform, she took her binoculars out of her backpack and looked toward Eden City.

It was one gigantic mess. Eden City had once been called the most beautiful city in the world, the union of an elegant past and a sleek, modern future. Now almost all of it that she could see was in rubble. Fire had utterly devastated the outskirts of the city, and even now, huge columns of smoke made it impossible to see into the centre of the city where Eden City University stood. Here and there, the burnt out shells of skyscrapers rose toward the sky, their glass facades melted off, and their steel frames warped and bent.

At this distance, she couldn't be sure even with binoculars, but the city streets seemed to be clogged with cars. Even worse, the stone bridge leading into the city was just gone, and the others bridges had all been raised. The city had tried to cut itself off from the outside world, but clearly, even that hadn't been enough. Looking at the sheer scale of the devastation – by the Maker, that patch of blackened earth had once been the Eden City Gardens – she felt the first niggling doubts about Serah's survival begin to surface. No, she thought. Serah was alive. There were lots of place to hide in a city that size, and not everything had burnt down. There had to be supermarkets and convenience stores that Serah could raid for supplies, and Serah was smart, a real survivor.

Besides, if Serah were dead, Lightning would know. She'd know because it would feel like her heart had been ripped out, like everything good and decent that was left in her life was just gone. But that wasn't how she felt, she still… she still had hope and that meant that Serah had to be alive. She just had to be.

She looked at the city for a few more minutes before she finally made up her mind. There was no way that she could get across the river into the city unless she could cross one of the bridges. It was a long shot, but the bridge controls might still work, but if they didn't, she'd have no choice but to abandon her sedan, something she absolutely did not want to do. Mind made up, she headed back down the stairs. She paused as she passed the body, and tore a curtain from one of the windows to drape over him. It wasn't much, but it seemed wrong to just leave him like that, especially when she'd been the one to put him there.

Outside of the building, the sun was hot, almost hot enough to make her want to run through the long grass back to her sedan, but she knew better than to let her guard down. Instead, she inched her way back to the sedan with the same care that she'd left it with. She paused just long enough to take several long sips from one of her water bottles before she started the car and headed toward the closest of the bridges. One way or another, she was going to find Serah today.

It took her almost an hour and a half of slow, steady driving to reach the bridge. The closer she got, the harder it became. Instead of the usual cars, the highway was now littered with police and Sanctum Security Vehicles. There were personnel carriers, police transports, and even a large truck with a water cannon, but to her frustration almost anything of use had already been taken. Still, she was able to find a few magazine of ammunition, which was better than nothing.

She stopped the sedan at the edge of the bridge. It was still raised, the two halves held up at an almost thirty degree angle. She supposed that she could try and jump the gap, but the sedan wasn't built for that kind of driving, and the odds were just as good that she'd fail and end up dead. No, she'd try all of the bridges before she attempted something that crazy.

From the looks of it, the bridge controls were probably in the building attached to the side of the bridge. She made her way over to the door and kicked it open. Wonderful, she thought as she looked inside. It was like a maze, all flickering solar powered lights and tight corridors. Swallowing thickly, she stepped inside and began to creep down the corridor. She passed some stairs heading downward but decided to ignore them. They were probably maintenance corridors that led under the bridge. What she wanted were the controls, and they would be somewhere with a clear view of the bridge, probably at the highest point of the building.

As she continued through the corridors, she took careful note of the water damage that she found. The roof must have broken, and that would reduce the chances of the bridge controls working. There was another set of stairs up ahead of her, this time leading upward, and she followed them, stopping for a moment to check for any of the Infected.

At the top of the stairs, there was a sign on the wall pointing the way to the bridge controls and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was tired now, running more on adrenaline that anything else, and her head had begun to throb, the fatigue beating down on her like cold, hard rain. It was the fatigue that made her miss the door behind her opening until she was driven to the ground, the air suddenly filled with inhuman cries of rage.

Her rifle clattered to the ground as clawed hands pawed at her back. In the tight confines of the corridor, there was nowhere for her to go, nowhere for her to manoeuvre so that she could take advantage of her speed and agility. Her backpack drove into the base of her spine, and she let out a hiss. Behind her, the Infected reared up and it was only instinct that saved her as she jerked frantically to the side as its jaws snapped shut where her head had been only a moment ago. They were now lying sideways on the ground, and with no other option, she braced her legs on the wall in front of her and shoved back with all her strength. The Infected clinging onto her back slammed into the wall and she heard a wet crunch along with a howl of fury. The Infected tried to bit her again and she jerked away just in time before she drove it back into the wall again and again, her legs burning with the effort, until finally its grip loosened.

She stumbled to her feet, throwing a ragged kick at the Infected's jaw as she reached for her pistol. The gun leapt in her hands and her first shot blew a chunk out of the Infected's neck before the second split its head in half. Another roar erupted behind her and she turned and fired. The shot struck the second Infected in the shoulder, and it slapped the gun out of her hands and threw her into the wall.

Her breath rushed out of her and she ducked as the Infected lunged forward. She ended up behind it and she grabbed the Infected by the neck and the waist and rammed it headfirst into the wall. There was a sickening crack as its skull fractured, and she shoved it away. The Infected skidded along the ground, its head oozing fluid and she dived for her pistol. A second later, the Infected was dead, a hole right in the middle of its face.

As the Infected toppled backward, she reached for her rifle. Good, the weapon wasn't damaged. She waited another moment in case any more Infected showed up before she turned and continued down the corridor and into the bridge control room.

The control room wasn't much to look at. There was a hole in the ceiling and all the windows were broken, but at least the control panels themselves seemed to be in decent shape, if covered with a bit of gore. Quickly, she made her way over to the controls and tried them, but they refused to work. Damn it, what was wrong? There was power – the lights were flickering in the corridor – so the controls should work. Helpless rage bubbled up and she was sorely tempted to just empty her rifle into the controls.

"Think," she shouted. "Think. There is power, so the controls should work. If they don't there has to be an emergency failsafe or something to lower the bridges." Frantically, she paced around the room until she finally spotted the red switch at the top of one of the control panels. She smiled. It was labelled: Emergency Bridge Release.

Quickly, she used the butt of her rifle to break the glass around the switch and then turned it. There was a dull boom and she saw several lights flash on the control panels before the bridge crashed back into place. Her eyes widened. Those booms had sounded almost like explosives, but why would – ah, yes… that's right. The bridge was raised and lowered by hydraulics. There had probably been small, highly localised explosives on the hydraulics so that if the need ever arose, they could just be broken to force the bridge to lower.

With the bridge finally in place, she made her way back out of the building and back to her sedan. It was time to go to Eden City University.

As Lightning drove through the tattered ruins of Eden City, her mind was on constant alert. There had to be Infected here, hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. So she drove as carefully as she could, trying to make as little noise as possible. More than once she had to stop and get out of the sedan to clear away debris, but each time, she reminded herself that it was all for a good reason – for the best reason. Her arms began to ache, her legs too, and she could feel the razor-sharp awareness that she needed beginning to dull.

"Not yet," she said, smiling softly. "Not yet. Not until after I get Serah and the two of us get out of here. After that… after that I can rest… but not till then… not till then."

Yet as certain as she was that Serah would be fine, she couldn't help but notice the sheer devastation around her. It had been bad enough looking at it from the viewing platform, but up close, it was even worse. It was one thing to see a town in ruins with the dead piled on the streets, and the shops looted and burnt out. It was quite another to see Eden City, the jewel of the nation, and home to millions in a state of utter desolation. It was just too much, really, and she had to struggle to keep her mind from going blank in the face of the sheer scale of it all. It really was the end of the world.

She was near the centre of the city now, and though the smoke was still heavy in the air, she was all right with the map she'd taken from the viewing platform to guide her. The shopping district had been badly damage by fire, but some of it had survived, which reassured her. If some of the supermarkets and other stores had survived, then it meant that those trapped in the city still had a chance.

Finally, she reached the broad boulevard that would take her all the way to Eden City University. Great clouds of smoke billowed across the road and she tightened her hands on the steering wheel as she eased through them. Then she saw what lay ahead of her and she stopped the sedan.

It wasn't there.

Eden City University just wasn't there.

Only the skeletons of the largest buildings remained. Everything else had burnt to the ground. She leaned her head against the steering wheel, her heart hammering in her chest. She was going to pass out. She needed to breathe. She closed her eyes.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

"Think," she whispered. "Think, damn it."

Serah could still be alive. She stayed at the dormitories on campus and they were away from the main buildings. They might not have burned down with the rest of the university. Hands shaking, Lightning forced herself to drive the rest of the way to the university. Serah was alive. She had to be, and now Lightning was going to go look for her.

She stopped at the gates of the university. Inside, the road was too badly damaged to drive on, so she'd have to go the rest of the way on foot. Quickly, she took a look at the map she'd taken of the university campus and then began to head in the direction of the dormitories.

As she stalked through the remains of the campus, she had to fight back memories of the last time she'd visited. She'd never been too comfortable amongst crowds, but there had been a vibrant sort of busyness to the university, an atmosphere that she knew Serah loved. After a bit of arguing, Serah had even managed to drag her to a little café beside one of the university's many fountains. The food had been nice, but really, Lightning hadn't cared about that. It had been so good just to see Serah again, and most of all to see that her sister was happy, really happy. It had hurt a little to know that Serah could be happy without her, but Lightning would gladly trade her happiness away for Serah's.

The only thing left of that café now was a shell of melted metal and scorched brick.

As she got deeper into the campus, she spotted several Infected wandering around. They seemed lethargic, but she wasn't fooled, not for a moment. The instant that they noticed her, they would explode with violent savagery, their only desire to rip her limb from limb. She used every bit of skill she could muster to avoid them, skulking low to the ground and from building to building. It was a good thing that there was so much smoke around – the Infected often had a keen sense of smell.

If only she'd had a silencer for her pistol or her rifle, she could have picked the Infected off one by one, but so far she hadn't been able to find one. Sales of silencers were strictly controlled and they were not readily available to the public. The police and Sanctum Security hadn't had much use for them either when dealing with the Infected, so unless she stumbled across a military supply depot or something similar, she would just have to make do.

Eventually, however, her luck ran out.

In the shadows of the university's great hall, one of the few buildings to survive relatively intact due to the fact that it was built almost entirely of stone, she spotted a large band of Infected. They were spread out around the hall, but try as she might, she couldn't think of a way to avoid all of them. She would just have to try and pick off any that spotted her and hope that she could slip through.

She crept toward the Infected closest to her and drew her knife. It sensed her and turned, its mouth open to scream, but her knife was already imbedded hilt deep in its head. The Infected dropped to the ground with a wet thump and she disappeared back into the shadows with her knife. That was one down, but she needed to distract the others. Looking around, she spotted an empty can and tossed it as a hard as she could toward the opposite end of the great hall. It clattered noisily across the ground and most of the Infected rushed toward the sound.

However, two of the Infected stayed behind. She darted forward, grabbed a rock off the ground and threw it with everything she had. It smashed the skull of the one closest to her and she leapt at the other. It clawed at her, but as it tried to roar, she drove her knife into its throat and dragged the blade across. Rather than a roar, all that came out was a wet gurgle as she pressed the knife deeper and severed the Infected's spine. It went limp as she turned and drove her knife into the eye of the Infected she'd hit with a rock.

By now, the other Infected had started to realise that the empty can she'd thrown was just a ruse and she sprinted away before they could see her. Lungs on fire, she ran all the way to the dormitories and then collapsed onto her knees. Deep down inside, she'd probably always known, but now, confronted with the truth, she could scarcely contain her grief.

The dormitories were gone.

They'd burnt to the ground, just like the rest of the university.

A sob welled up from deep inside her. She'd failed to protect the only thing she'd ever really given a damn about in her entire miserable life. Serah was dead. The only person she cared about in the whole world was dead and damn it, damn it, if she was honest with herself, she'd known all along that this was how it would be. No one she loved ever stayed with her for long.

Not caring anymore that the Infected might hear, she dropped to her knees and wailed. Rocking back and forth, she felt the prickle of tears and for once she didn't even try to stop them.

Cry harder, the cruel voice in her head whispered, the one that had kept her going this far only to turn on her now. Cry harder and maybe she'll come back to you. Oh wait, that's impossible. The dead don't come back. Lightning laughed and flopped onto her back, her gaze drawn to the smoke filled sky. Had it hurt? Had her sister's last moments been filled with fear and horror, or had it been quick? Did it even matter?

She covered her face with her hands and her chest heaved.

"What am I supposed to do now, Serah?" She sobbed. "What am I supposed to do?"

A freakish scream echoed through the air and Lightning pushed herself up onto the haunches. The Infected were there, drawn by the sounds of her grief. She smiled. There were so many of them.

"Come on!" Lighting screamed as she scrubbed the tears from her cheeks and lifted her rifle. "What are you waiting for? I'm right here!"

The Infected charged and Lightning laughed again, finger already on the trigger. Bullets sprayed out, peppering the first three in the chest, before she shifted her aim up and all but decapitated two of them. The third staggered back, only to be shoved to the ground as the dozen or so behind rushed forward.

"Hold on, Serah," she whispered. "I won't leave you ever again."

She stepped back as she fired, the Infected going down one after another as they got in each other's way. The rifle clicked empty as she tossed the magazine away and reloaded. She was going to die, of that she was absolutely certain, but before she did she'd take as many of the Infected with her as she could. After all, Serah would just hate it if she died without at least putting up some kind of fight.

She laughed.

"Wait for me Serah."

The Infected closed in.

X X X

Lightning felt herself moving. That was odd. She should be dead. She'd fired on the Infected with her rifle until she'd run out of ammunition and then she'd switched to her pistol. When that had gone dry, she'd drawn her knife, hacking and stabbing at anything she could reach. She wasn't sure how many she'd killed by then – she'd lost count – but she really couldn't bring herself to care. She'd wanted to die, yet, at the same time there had been a traitorous part of her that had wanted to live, that had wanted to go on even though Serah was dead.

The last thing she could remember was screaming and laughing as she drove her knife into the throat of one of the Infected before gunshots filled the air. Exhaustion, emotional and physical, had finally overwhelmed her then and she'd died. Only, she hadn't. Those gunshots hadn't come from her, and whoever it was must have saved her.

She felt laughter bubble up from deep inside. Maker, she was pathetic. She couldn't even kill herself properly. Coughing and hacking, she forced her eyes to open.

"Easy," it was a young woman speaking. "You're lucky that I heard all the shooting, otherwise they'd have gotten you for sure."

The young woman brushed a strand of red hair away from her face and propped Lightning up against a nearby wall. "I'm Vanille," she said, huffing and puffing. "I'm sorry I couldn't carry you properly, but you're bigger than me and…" Before Lightning could stop her, Vanille was babbling away madly on anything and everything from how she'd found Lightning to what the weather had been like the past few days.

"Stop!" Lightning said. "Just… stop…" She closed her eyes. "Why did you save me? I was trying to die, you know."

Vanille grabbed Lightning's hands and Lightning suddenly found herself unable to look away from the other woman's green eyes. "Please, please don't die. I'm sorry I was babbling, but I've been alone for so long and…" she wrapped her arms around Lightning and held her tight. "I can't… I can't be alone anymore… not… not after finally finding someone else. So, please… please say you'll come with me… I've… I've got a place we can hole up in and… and…"

Lightning froze as Vanille buried her face in her chest and cried. Almost of its own volition, one of her hands went up to stroke the other woman's hair. Her eyes drifted shut. It… it was almost like holding Serah, she thought. She laughed softly. Serah was dead. But… but… maybe…

"Please say you'll come with me!" Vanille cried. "Please!" She sniffled miserably. "I don't want to be alone again… not just me and the Infected."

Lightning forced herself to stand, tugging Vanille up with her. It would be easy, so easy, to just shoot Vanille and then shoot herself. She'd be doing them both a favour. After all, the Infected would get them eventually, just like they'd gotten Serah and everyone else. But looking into Vanille's eyes, she just… couldn't. Damn it, she'd wanted to die because Serah was gone and so was everything else, but she wanted to live too, and… and… maybe… maybe Serah wasn't dead. After all, Vanille had survived hadn't she? Yes, there was still a chance that Serah wasn't dead and until she knew for certain, Lightning couldn't die, not yet.

"Fine," Lightning said at last. "I'll go with you."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

This was probably the hardest chapter of this story to write so far. After writing about sunshine and rainbows (i.e., after writing another chapter of Ordinary Heroes), I always find it takes a little bit of time to get back into the mood to write something more sombre. And this is definitely more sombre, by about a factor of a million.

In this chapter there were a few things I wanted to do. First of all, I wanted to get at Lightning's state of mind. The only thing that's been keeping her going is the thought that she's going to find Serah in Eden City. When that is taken away from her, she breaks down, but at the same time, she latches onto the sliver of hope that Vanille's presence provides. If Vanille survived then surely Serah might have survived as well. It is, without doubt, seriously flawed reasoning, but really, Lightning isn't exactly in full possession of her faculties. She's emotionally and physically exhausted and she is looking for any excuse to keep believing that Serah is okay.

But is Serah alive?

Good question, and no, I'm not going to tell you – at least not right now. Still, it should be interesting to see how Lightning and Vanille get along. Being alone for months on end is hard for anyone, but for someone like Vanille who just thrives off the company of others? It's not the least bit surprising that she's latched onto Lightning like a life preserver, nor is it surprising that Vanille's behaviour is a little… odd.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Nora looked out the window of the car and bit her lip. The fog hadn't thinned at all over the past few hours. If anything, it had actually gotten worse. Visibility was down to only a few dozen yards, so she couldn't drive at anything faster than a crawl. It might have been better to stop, but until she found somewhere more sheltered than the road, she had no choice but to keep driving. Being caught out in the open could get both her and Hope killed.

"Do you think we'll find anything soon?" Hope asked. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the car with a map of the area on his lap. Like her, however, there was a worried frown on his face. The map was pretty much useless when they couldn't see anything, and they both knew from past experience that although the fog might make things hard for them, the Infected could still find them.

"I think so," Nora replied, doing her best to sound surer than she felt. "There should be a gas station soon according to the map, and there's usually one every few miles anyway." Of course, they were in a fairly remote area, and if they'd wandered off their intended route it could easily be a few more hours before they came across anything. They were also running low on fuel, which meant that if they didn't run into a town or a gas station soon, they would definitely be in trouble.

"Maybe we can find some food too," Hope said. "The last town didn't really have much."

Nora nodded grimly. The last few weeks had been tough, and not just when it came to finding fuel. The last town they'd stopped in had been stripped almost completely bare of anything that could be used. Fuel, food, even clothes – all of it had either been taken or destroyed by the fires that had still been smouldering when she and Hope got there. They had enough for a few more days if they rationed it properly, but after that, things would get much harder. At least they'd managed to put together a decent store of water.

"Hey, mom, stop!" Hope shouted suddenly, pointing to something ahead of them in the fog. "What's that?"

Nora frowned and let the car roll to a stop. There was definitely something in the fog ahead of them. She squinted and eased the car a bit closer. It was a building of some kind – a gas station, actually. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good work," she said, giving Hope a smile. "We could use some more fuel."

Slowly, she eased the car closer before pulling to a stop in front of the gas station. The fog was thicker here, a cloud of white mist that made it impossible to see more than a dozen or so feet in front of her. Over the last few months, she'd learned the hard way that any building was a potential death trap. The Infected seemed to gravitate toward buildings, and more than once she and Hope had nearly lost their lives looking for shelter or supplies. There was also no telling if there was even any gasoline left. They'd already come across several gas stations that had been bled completely dry.

"Stay here, Hope," Nora murmured as she got out of the car with her shotgun. The weapon itself had been a lucky find, taken from the body of a policeman who no longer had any need for it. Normally, she'd have balked at even the thought of taking something from a dead body, but she'd changed a lot since the Infected had first appeared. She'd had to. Hope was still a boy, although he'd done a lot of growing up over the past few months. After everything they'd been through, she wasn't about let a little squeamishness get them both killed.

"But, mom –" Hope tried to get out of the car, but she put one hand on his chest and pushed him back in. "What are you doing?"

"Stay here, Hope. I mean it." Nora turned to look at the fog around them. This felt very wrong. They'd survived so far by never doing anything risky, but if she was reading the map right, they might not even make it to the next gas station before they ran out of fuel. If they got stuck out here, they wouldn't last long, maybe a few days at the most. "I'll be fine. Just stay here and watch the car."

Hope looked like he wanted to argue, but she gave him her sternest look. "Fine," he muttered as he sank back into his seat. "Just… just be careful, okay?"

"I will be." Nora tried to smile. "Remember, you need to keep the engine running and if things go bad…"

Hope shook his head violently. "I am not going to drive off without you mom, no matter how bad things get."

"You can and you will, Hope Estheim," Nora said. "You're my son, which means that to me, you will always come first." She turned away from the fog to look back at him. "Make sure you check your gun too, Hope. I know you don't like using it, but it's better safe than sorry."

Hope grumbled but did as he was told. Nora watched him carefully as he checked his pistol over. Not too long ago, neither of them had known all that much about how to use a gun. However, they'd learned quickly – it was either that or end up dead. Hope still wasn't particularly good or comfortable with anything bigger than a pistol, but it was better than nothing. A pistol might not kill the Infected easily outside of a shot directly to the head, but it could slow them down enough to give him a chance to get away. The pistol was also good for buying her time when she was reloading her shotgun, something she practiced whenever she had the time because she still felt like she was still too slow. Against the Infected, even a split-second could mean the difference between life and death.

Nora nodded in approval as Hope finished checking his pistol. "Good, now stay alert. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, she walked into the fog.

Watching her leave, Hope was seized by the urge to jump out of the car and follow her. Since the whole Infected thing had started, the two of them had rarely been out of each other's sight. Two pairs of eyes were better than one, and it just wasn't safe for them to separate. Besides, he'd seen so many people die that he couldn't shake the horrible feeling that his mother might be next. If something did happen to her, he wasn't sure he'd be able to go on. What would be the point? He'd be alone in a world full of monsters.

Nora felt Hope's gaze on her well after she'd lost sight of the car in the fog. She didn't want to leave him for even a moment, but it was safer this way. As carefully as she could, she picked her way through the fog toward the gas pumps. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see clearly for more than a few yards, but the hulking shadow of the gas station was unmistakable.

Through the fog, she spotted a body, and she wrinkled her nose as the stench hit. Whoever they'd been, they'd been dead for a while, but not too long if the smell was still this strong. Just to be sure, she picked a small rock up off the ground and tossed it at the body. A few of the Infected that she'd come across had been lying down, almost like corpses, so she needed to be sure. The rock thumped into the body, but it didn't move. Good, it was just a corpse then.

As she continued her slow creep toward the gas pumps, she came across a few more bodies, but each of them was just that – a body. Most of them appeared to have been killed by the Infected, so she needed to stay alert. The Infected could easily have moved on after killing everyone here, but they could just as easily have stayed. With the fog as thick as it was, she'd never see them until they were right on top of her.

Finally, she reached the gas pumps and she took careful stock of the layout. There were six of them, in two rows of three. That was quite a lot for a place this isolated, which that this probably was the only gas station for some distance. That also meant that the gas station probably had a fairly large fuel supply. Hopefully, there was still some of it left for her and Hope.

She tried the first pump and then tossed it away in disgust. Whoever had used it last had broken it. A few squeezes were all she could manage before it practically fell apart in her hands. The second and third pumps were much the same, and she felt a stab of panic. She'd seen this kind of thing before. The rise of the Infected had driven people so crazy that they'd destroyed everything around them, even things they needed. Fists clenched tightly, she tried the fourth pump, and she nearly fell to her knees in relief when gasoline splashed onto the ground.

"Hope!" she shouted. "There's gas!"

"Really?" Hope shouted back. "That's good because we're running low."

Nora wiped the smile from her face and tried to keep her wits about her as she made her way back to the car. She drove it over to the fourth pump and left Hope in charge of filling the tank while she took a look inside the convenience store attached to the gas station. The odds of there actually being anything left were quite small since places this were usually the first to be picked clean by scavengers, both human and animal, but she couldn't leave without at least checking for anything they could use.

"I'm just taking a quick look inside," she told Hope. "I'll be right back. Stay alert."

Hope nodded and took a look around. "Okay. Be careful, mom."

Nora inched toward the convenience store and then stopped at the doors. The window next to them was broken, but the doors themselves were jammed shut. With a growl, she drew one foot back and kicked them, but it took a few tries before they finally jolted open. Inside, the convenience store was a mess. Something had clearly taken up residence, and she whirled around as something skittered along the floor at the edges of her vision. She saw it again, and she was about to shoot when she realised what she was looking at. It was a pair of cats, young ones by the looks of them. They glared at her from their little hideaway beneath one of the shelves.

A wry smile crossed her lips. "Don't worry," she murmured. "I've got bigger things to worry about than you two."

The cats were a good sign. Animals hated the Infected, so if the cats were there, then it was extremely unlikely that there were any Infected nearby. Unfortunately, that's where her luck ended. Almost everything edible in the store had either been taken by people or by the cats. The only thing left that even vaguely resembled food was, ironically enough, canned cat food. It was almost enough to make her laugh, although it also made her want to cry. Still, cat food was better than nothing. If it really came down it, she and Hope could probably eat it and be okay. Of course, it would be quite interesting trying to convince Hope of that.

However, the pained smile on her face vanished the instant she heard another car pull into the gas station. Mind filled with countless horrible possibilities, she dropped the cat food where it was and sprinted out of the convenience store. Outside, she heard Hope cry out followed by the thump of a body against the car. She pushed her way out of the doors and cursed as the fog swept over her. Not far away, she heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped.

She stumbled through the fog to find a tall dark haired woman pointing a shotgun at Hope. For his part, Hope was slumped against the car, his pistol several yards away.

"You! Leave him alone!" Nora roared. She brought her own shotgun up and levelled it at the other woman's chest. At this range, she'd probably blow the other woman in half. "Hope, come over here!"

Hope, however, did not move an inch. His eyes were locked onto the barrel of the shotgun that was aimed right at his chest. The dark haired woman's eyes narrowed and she flicked a quick glance at Nora before she looked back at Hope. "How about you lower your gun first."

Nora shook her head. They hadn't seen anyone in weeks and now Hope had a gun on him. Every instinct she had screamed that this woman was dangerous. If she lowered her gun now, there was no telling what would happen. "Not going to happen," Nora ground out. "That's my son. You take your gun off him, or I'll shoot."

"Fine." In a split-second the shotgun was trained on Nora. The two women locked eyes and Nora felt a bead of sweat roll down her temple. The other woman's green eyes were hard, very, very hard. "So, what now?"

"Hope," Nora said. "Move."

Slowly, Hope inched away from the other woman and over to his gun.

"No," the other woman said. "Do not reach for that gun."

Hope froze. Carefully, he backed away from the gun and circled around to stand behind his mother.

"So, he's your son?" the dark haired woman asked.

Nora nodded. "He's all that I've got left and if you think you're going to take him from me, you'd better think again." She swallowed thickly. "You're not going to lay one hand on him."

The other woman's green eyes softened and she sighed. "Back when I still had a job, there was a saying: never get between a mother bear and her cub." She lowered her shotgun. "I think it applies to people as well."

Nora allowed herself to relax just a little bit as she lowered her own weapon. Even so, she was careful to keep herself between the other woman and Hope. "Who are you, and what are you doing out here?"

The dark haired woman leaned back against their car and ran one hand through her hair. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm just heading toward Eden City. All I want is some gas and then I'll be on my way." Her lips firmed into a thin line. "Keep out of my way and we won't have any problems."

Nora nodded. That seemed reasonable enough. "We're just here for some gas too, but we're headed the other way."

The other woman grinned and scratched the back of her head. Nora still couldn't bring herself to relax though. Whoever this woman was, she had a lean, toned body. There was also no missing the fact that the whole time they'd been talking, her body had been like a coiled spring, ready to burst into motion. "It's funny how things work out, isn't it? The last people I met pulled a gun on me and here I am doing the same." She chuckled. "As if the Infected weren't enough to worry about."

Despite how tense the situation still was Nora felt a smile tickle her lips. Those were her thoughts exactly. "I suppose it does seem kind of funny. We haven't seen anyone in almost a month, and I certainly never thought I'd pull a gun on the next person we did see."

The other woman looked at her for a few moments, and Nora got the feeling that she was sizing her up. Finally, she smirked – it was an expression that seemed very natural – and switched her hold on her shotgun so that she held it by the barrel, well away from the trigger. Smirk still firmly in place she extended one hand. "Fang."

Tentatively, Nora eased her grip on her own weapon and extended her hand. "Nora." She glanced back at Hope. "He's my son, Hope."

They shook hands and Nora's eyes widened slightly at the strength she felt in Fang's grip, not to mention the calluses. Her own hands were still quite soft despite the past few months. Fang must have done something quite physically demanding for a living. It also made Nora more confident in her assessment of Fang. Fang was definitely in very good shape, and she moved with the easy, confident stride of someone used to being the hunter rather than the hunted.

Fang must have seen some of her uneasiness because she grinned again and eased her grip a little. "Relax, if I was going to do something, the two of you would already be dead." Her eyes widened as she realised just what she'd said. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's… been a while since I've actually talked to other people."

Nora grimaced. Despite the light tone that Fang had used, she believed her. "Don't worry about it." She bit her lip. "So, what now?"

Fang looked past Nora toward the convenience store. The fog had begun to ease a little, but it was still quite thick. "Is this place clear?"

Nora didn't need to ask what Fang meant by clear. "I haven't come across any Infected so far, and I found two cats inside the convenience store."

"Good." Fang scowled and tossed a glare at the fog around them. "I was hoping to just get some fuel and move on, but I'm probably going to stay here for the night. This fog is too thick to drive in safely, and I'm not about to let some fog kill me after everything I've been through."

Nora sighed and looked around as well. "I think we might have to do the same." They could keep driving, but according to their map the road ahead was supposed to be quite dangerous. In the fog, it could easily prove fatal. Besides, if Fang had wanted to do something to them, she could easily have done it by now. "Yes, I think we'll spend the night here too."

Out of the corner of her eye, Nora saw Hope scowl. She couldn't blame him. Fang had disarmed him and thrown him up against the car. Of course, she could have just shot him when she had the chance. In fact, a lot of people probably would have. As much as it pained her to see Hope tossed around like that, it was infinitely preferable to seeing him dead.

Fang followed Nora's gaze over to Hope and winced. "Oh, sorry about earlier." She scooped Hope's pistol off the ground and handed it to him. "I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be here. You startled me, especially when you pointed that gun my way."

Hope took the pistol back. "Thanks, I guess." He bit his lip. Fang didn't seem like she wanted to cause any more trouble. "And… sorry about pulling the gun on you. I wasn't sure what else to do. I thought you might be one of the Infected or something."

Fang shrugged. "No, you did the right thing." Her eyes hardened again. "And you should be careful if you run into other people as well. Like I said, the last group of people I met pulled a gun on me." She pointed to a cut that was still healing on her arm. "They decided that they wanted my car and they wouldn't take no for an answer." She laughed bitterly. "I don't know if they're dead, but they definitely came off second best." She gave both Nora and Hope a serious look. "If you run into someone else, make sure they're friendly first – there's no telling what they'll do otherwise." She let her gaze rest a moment longer on Nora. There were dangers for women travelling around, dangers that a boy like Hope wouldn't face. More than one man Fang had run into had tried to force things, and she'd shot every single one of them.

Nora nodded slowly. She knew what Fang was talking about, but so far the only trouble she and Hope had encountered had come from the Infected. However, they'd seen quite a few bodies riddled with bullets. There were definitely people out there who were willing to do almost anything to survive, even prey on the few people still around. "Thanks for the warning."

"It doesn't cost me anything," Fang said. She gestured at her car, which was parked a short distance away. "Well, you two keep to your side and I'll keep to mine. That way, there shouldn't be any trouble." Her eyes narrowed. "And please, don't try anything. You two seem like decent people, so I'd really hate to have to kill you."

"Don't worry, we're not looking for trouble either," Nora said. She patted Hope on the shoulder. "Come on, let's finish fuelling up."

X X X

That night was quite awkward. Nora and Hope stayed next to their car. They'd found an old fuel drum and after a few attempts, they'd managed to light a fire to keep warm. They could have stayed in the car the whole time, but it was a little cramped, and they both wanted the chance to stretch their legs a bit. Dinner was a little depressing though. They didn't have a lot of supplies left, so they were forced to ration what little they had quite strictly. As a result, dinner was a few long-life muesli bars. They were nutritious, but they tasted like shredded newspaper.

That was when Fang padded over. There was a big smile on her face and two cups on instant noodles in one of her hands to go with the one she was already eating from. "It's not exactly the healthiest thing in the world, but those muesli bars looked pretty horrible." Up close, Nora could see just how brittle Fang's smile was. "I also thought you might want a little company."

Nora nodded. "Some company sounds nice." In all honesty, she was looking forward to talking to someone else. She did have Hope, so she wasn't totally alone, but after a lifetime of friends, family, and acquaintances, the difference was pretty jarring. Fang seemed like the kind of person who'd have a lot of friends, so to be stuck on her own had to be quite hard. Nora probably would have gone insane if she'd been on her own all this time, and from the look on Fang's face, it was clear the strain was beginning to tell on her a little. "The noodles are also much appreciated."

Taking the noodles from Fang, Nora was careful to look over them for any signs of tampering. There were none – the cups were still wrapped in the original plastic packaging. "Thanks again for the noodles," Nora said as got some water boiled and ripped open the packaging. Despite how safe it seemed, Nora still hesitated until Fang leaned forward and took a fork-full of noodles from each cup and ate it.

"I didn't poison them, if that's what you're worried about," Fang said. She sighed. "I can't really blame you for checking though."

Nora handed Hope one of the cups of instant noodles. "I have to say, it's been a while since we've had instant noodles. The last few towns we passed through were pretty much empty." She looked at Fang. "But why are you doing this?"

Fang shrugged. "What can I say? You two looked pretty miserable eating those muesli bars. I know for a fact that they taste about the same as cardboard. Besides, those instant noodles I gave you were about a week or two from spoiling anyway. It's not like I could've eaten them all in time."

"Really?" Nora took a surreptitious look at her cup of noodles. The expiry date wasn't for months. "That's quite generous." She glanced at Hope who was staring at the noodles like they were ten birthday presents rolled into one. "What do you say, Hope?"

Hope flushed. "Oh… uh… thanks a lot, Fang. It's really nice of you to give us these."

Fang laughed and reached over to ruffle Hope's hair. He scowled, but made no move to shrug her off. After all, she had just given them noodles. "Don't mention it, kid."

Fang ate dinner with them, even going so far as to share some chocolate that she had for dessert. It was the best that Nora and Hope had eaten for weeks, and as grateful as she was, Nora was very curious as to why Fang was being so nice. She didn't think that Fang had an ulterior motive. Fang looked like she could take care of herself, and they didn't have anything she needed unless she was looking for a new car.

Nora couldn't be sure what it was, but after noticing how Fang's gaze kept going back and forth between her and Hope she had a few ideas. She waited until Hope went off to their car to sleep before she decided to ask Fang about it. The two of them were sitting on the hood of the car, each with their shotgun within easy reach in case the Infected came.

"Why did you share your food with us, Fang?" Nora asked softly, turning to watch Fang's face. "And don't say it's because the food was about to expire. It wasn't."

Fang's eyes widened for a moment and then she laughed softly. "I must really be losing it." She glanced over to where Hope was sleeping. "The truth is… I have a sister. That's why I'm going to Eden City. She attends the university there." Nora noticed that Fang used the present tense for everything, but she didn't quite have the heart to correct her. Eden City was dead, along with everyone in it. "I'm a little worried about her. She's tough, but she can be a little silly sometimes, you know, play around a bit too much. If someone ran into her the way I ran into you two, I'd like to think they'd help her, not just leave her behind." She dragged in a deep, deep breath and ran one hand over her face. "You two remind me a little of the way we used to be. Hope looks at you like you can make everything okay, and she always used to look at me like that." She shook her head slowly and scratched at the cut on her arm. "I don't know if I can make this okay."

Nora put one arm around Fang. They were strangers, yet at the same time, she felt like they were very close. "It's hard sometimes. Hope thinks we'll be okay because we've got each other, but I just don't know. There's so little left in the world, and I'm not cut out for this kind of thing."

Fang patted Nora's back. "You're his mother. You're cut for anything if it means keeping him safe." She stared out into the darkness beyond the firelight. "I used to be a park ranger, so I'm pretty good at all of this survival stuff. The thing is, I don't really think I'm much of a sister."

Nora shook her head. "That's not true. You've gotten this far, haven't you?"

"I suppose I have." Fang looked at Nora. "Say, where were you when all this started?"

Nora bit her lip. Part of her wanted to lie, but looking into Fang's eyes, she just couldn't. "We were in Eden City when it all started."

Fang's eyes lit up. "How as it? They had to have a lot of Sanctum Security there, right?"

Nora closed her eyes. Hands clenched into fists, she told Fang everything that had happened in those last few horrible hours before they'd gotten out of Eden City. She told her about all the smoke she'd seen as Eden City had burned. When she was done, Fang was still smiling, but it was the most fragile smile that Nora had ever seen.

"What are you going to do now?" Nora asked softly.

Fang looked up at the sky, but Nora could see faint traces of moisture gather at the corners of her eyes. "What else? I'm going to go anyway. I… I need to know for sure. Maybe… maybe it's a waste of time, and maybe I'll get killed, but if Vanille isn't around then… then I'm not sure there's a point in me being around either." She ran one hand through her hair. "You think she's dead, don't you? But if it were Hope… if it were Hope, you'd try wouldn't you, no matter how crazy it seemed?"

Nora looked away, giving Fang the time she needed to wipe away any trace of tears. "I would, even if every person I ran into told me I was crazy." She thought of Bart and her heart clenched. The only reason she hadn't gone back to look for him was Hope. She wouldn't risk dragging her son into what had to be a city absolutely crawling with Infected. If it had been just herself that she was risking, she wouldn't even have thought twice before trying.

Fang got to her feet. "I think I might turn in for the night." She walked back to her car and then stopped to look over her shoulder. "You know, Nora. If things had been different, I think we might have been pretty good friends."

"I think so too," Nora said, unable to shake the feeling that Fang was saying goodbye, and not just because she was headed in the opposite direction.

X X X

The next morning, when Nora woke up, Fang was already gone. However, right next to their car was a cardboard box full of food. On the top was a small note: it was going to expire anyway. Laughing softly, Nora lifted up a can of soup. The expiry date wasn't for at least another year.

"Good luck, Fang," Nora murmured. "Whether your sister is alive or not – and I hope with everything I have that she is – she's damn lucky to have a sister like you."

The world might have gone to pieces, but there were still good people in it.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

When I first started thinking about this chapter, I really didn't plan on having Nora and Fang interact all that much. My original aim was to focus much more on the standoff situation that occurred to try and get into the characters' heads a bit more. Months on the road alone are bound to produce some degree of paranoia, which would make any meeting between survivors quite volatile. However, as I was writing things, it occurred to me that in this case, Nora and Fang actually have quite a lot in common, so I decided to go for a slightly different angle. I can only hope it worked.

Both Fang and Nora are working to protect something. The difference is that Nora already has Hope with her. Fang, however, has to push on without even knowing if the person she wants to protect is even alive. Fang and Nora also both have things they very much regret. In Fang's case, it's not being with Vanille when everything went bad, whereas for Nora, it's basically abandoning Bart so that she can keep Hope safe.

The other issues that I mention in this chapter, such as the survivors turning on one another are, I think, quite plausible. Certainly, almost every piece of fiction concerning a zombie apocalypse or disease apocalypse has at least one scene in which two groups of survivors turn on each other due to paranoia or a break down of morality even though any objective outsider could see that working together would be better. The end of the world has a tendency to bring out both the very best and the very worst in people.

On an unrelated note, this chapter has to hold the record for shortest first draft ever, relative to final chapter size. The original first draft was only nineteen hundred or so words long, making this final draft more than two and a half times longer. Funnily enough, almost all of the major points were present in that first draft, albeit in a very rough, skeletal form.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Vanille managed to get the pink hair woman halfway to her car before the other woman collapsed. It wasn't too surprising. The woman had passed out fighting the Infected and regained consciousness just long enough to agree to go with her and stagger a couple of hundred yards. But just from the look of her, Vanille could tell that the pink haired woman was exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes, and despite her strong, lithe frame, her breathing was shallow and erratic.

"Damn it," Vanille growled as she struggled to support the taller woman's weight. "You're too heavy. More Infected are coming. If you want to live, you're going to need to help me a little here!"

But the pink haired woman remained slumped against her. Vanille might only have been halfway through her medical degree when the whole world fell apart, but she knew that the other woman's problems were as much mental as physical. Even now, the other woman's arms had begun to tighten around her as she babbled almost incoherently.

"Serah…" the other woman muttered. "So… so sorry… please…"

Whoever Serah was, they had to be pretty important, because as Vanille continued to drag the two of them back to her car, the pink haired woman kept muttering and apologising to her. Biting her lip, Vanille forced herself to focus. She couldn't afford to worry about that kind of thing now. There would be plenty of time to talk to the other woman later, but right now she needed to get the two of them back to the car as quickly as possible. All of the shooting would undoubtedly draw more Infected, and Vanille couldn't fight and carry the other woman at the same time.

She saw her car parked ahead on the charred remains of one of the university lawns. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any Infected near it, and she clenched her jaw to drag the other woman the last few yards to the car. She was almost there when she heard a bestial roar fill the air. Infected. Quickly, she hobbled over to the car, got one of the doors open and shoved the other woman inside. The woman's legs caught on the door and Vanille cursed, wincing at how awkward the woman looked shoved into the backseat with all of the supplies she'd scavenged. But she could worry about appearances later.

With her jaw set firmly, Vanille turned to face the Infected. The closest to her was a powerfully built young man, but there were two more with it. She'd need to work quickly then. With so many Infected around, three could easily turn into thirty. With a growl she brought her rifle up and fired. Two shots struck the closest of the Infected right as it stepped forward. It jerked away, struck in the middle of the chest, before her third shot clipped it in the side of the head. The two other Infected broke into a jagged run toward her. She wasn't sure she could get them in the head so instead she lowered her aim. The rifle jerked hard against her shoulder and the two Infected dropped to the ground, their legs riddled with bullets. Sparing them one last glance, Vanille hopped into her car and started the engine.

The Infected found their feet again just as she swung the car around to run right over them. There was a dull thump and she winced as the car ran roughshod over them. Bone snapped and flesh gave way, and a sick wet sound was the last thing she heard before the Infected fell silent and the car pulled out onto the road. Vanille gave a sigh of relief and glanced at her passenger in her rear view mirror. She'd take her home, or at least, that's what Vanille called it. It was a bit of misnomer though. Home implied safety, and with the Infected around, safety was in short supply.

"It'll be okay, you'll see." Vanille looked into the rear view mirror again as the pink haired woman continued to mumble. "We'll be great friends, and I know we'll be just fine if we stick together. I used to have other friends, you see, but… but they went away and when they came back they weren't the same anymore. I hope that doesn't happen to you." She tightened her hands around the steering wheel and guided the car around an upturned truck. "I couldn't bear it if something like that happened to you. I'd be all alone again and… and I can't be alone again, not again."

The drive back home didn't take too long – after all, there wasn't much traffic. Vanille slowed down in front of a burnt out apartment building and hopped out to unlock the padlock around the makeshift gate. Carefully, she took a good look around to make sure that none of the Infected were nearby, and then she got back into the car and eased it down the driveway before locking the gate behind her. It always made her feel a little uneasy to just leave the car in the driveway, but there was no way she would ever, ever set foot inside the apartment block's underground garage.

Taking a deep breath as she got back out of the car, she let her eyes wander over the ruined apartment block. It wasn't much to look at, at least not at first sight. When the fire had come, it had burnt the lower three stories badly enough to leave only the structural supports and occasional brick wall standing. If anyone had been inside when that happened, they would have died within minutes. The attic, however, that was another storey. The attic had survived, and after a bit of tinkering, Vanille and a few others had managed to get up there.

Sure, the attic was a little cramped, but it was safe, or at least, as safe as anything could be nowadays. The only way up was via a drop-down staircase secured by a latch and hidden behind a panel in the roof of the third floor. It had taken her and her friends almost ten minutes to get it open, and even then, the only way they'd known it was there was because one of them had rented an apartment in the building. Her gut clenched and she shook her head. It was probably better if she didn't think about those days. She and her friends had survived the fires and panic only to discover that there were worse things around, hungry, soulless things.

They'd survived by sticking together and being careful until… Vanille swallowed thickly. Whatever had happened in the past didn't matter anymore. She was the only one left now, had been for quite some time. But now maybe, maybe she wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

"Okay," she said cheerfully as she wrapped one arm around the pink haired woman and dragged her toward the apartment building. "Let's get you upstairs."

It took Vanille quite a while to get the other woman up to the attic, and not just because of the difference in size. The thing was, Vanille had become a little bit obsessive when it came to safety. Each time she entered one of the burnt out rooms, it was only after looking carefully through the doorway. And each time she got to a long corridor, she would take one of the pebbles in her pocket and throw it. The pebbles made a loud sound against the scorched concrete floors, and if there were any Infected in the building, they'd be drawn to it and she could pick them off from a distance. It probably looked a little crazy, but it had already saved her life a few times. The fence around the apartment block wasn't perfect, and more than once, a few Infected had managed to sneak in.

The stairs were the trickiest part. It was just lucky that the apartment had used concrete stairs rather than wood, otherwise the fire would have burnt them too. In the end, she was forced to drag the pink haired woman clumsily up the stairs, a sorry on her lips every time she bumped the woman's head or legs on something. Really, it would have been hilarious if it hadn't been so serious.

Finally, after stumbling through three floors of burnt out rooms and ash-strewn corridors, Vanille finally reached the entrance to the attic. Vanille propped the other woman against one of the walls and used the tip of her rifle to shove the panel on the roof out of the way. Behind it was the latch for the stairs, and she had to strain to reach it even with the rifle to help her. At last, the latch slipped free and the stairs dropped down.

She turned to the figure slumped against the wall and grinned. "Home, sweet home."

Carefully, Vanille carried her new friend up the last set of stairs and then closed them up behind her. She could always get the supplies she'd scavenged out of her car later. Right now, however, she had someone to look after.

"I wonder if you'll like it here?" Vanille murmured as she hastily pulled out some bedding that hadn't been used since… since the others had been around. She probably could have gotten rid of it earlier – it took up a lot of valuable space – but now she was glad that she'd been too sentimental to let it go. She got the other woman onto the bed and then put one hand on her forehead. "Hmmm… you've got a pretty high fever. I might still have some medication around for that, but you're going to need water too." She laughed a little nervously. "Just stay here. I'm going to be right back, okay? Don't go anywhere."

Vanille took a quick look around the attic. It wasn't a huge space, but it was enough for two people and their things. All of her supplies were in one corner of the attic with the ammunition and weapons in one pile, the food and other essentials in another. Her bed was over by one of the walls – she hated waking up and not having a wall behind her – and there was an old couch near the stairs. If she had to, she could push it over the stairs to block them. It wouldn't hold a large group of Infected for long, but it would give her the time she needed to escape onto the roof or out one of the windows. There were also some books and magazines lying around, and over in another corner that was a small table with some wallets on it. Smiling softly, she plucked her own wallet out of her pocket and put it with the others.

"Hey, guys," she whispered. "I'm back and look… I brought a friend." The wallets remained silent. "I really think you'd like her. She's pretty and she seems really tough too."

Smiling one last time at the wallets, she went over to dig through her supplies for some medication and a little water. Normally, she'd have been a little hesitant to give a barely conscious person pills, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Steeling herself, she pocketed a few pills and walked over to where the pink haired woman had begun to toss and turn.

"I'm going to need you to swallow this," Vanille said as she tried to slip one of the pills into the woman's mouth. Almost immediately, the woman's thrashing intensified and Vanille winced as a fist clattered off her shoulder. Even sick, the pink haired woman was so strong, and so, so fast. Grimly, Vanille tried to hold the woman down. "Please, you need to swallow this. Just let me take care of you." Something in her voice must have seemed familiar because the woman's struggles began to weaken.

"Serah?" the woman whispered, eyes wide but unseeing. Blindly, she reached out to try and wrap her arms around Vanille. "I had… this dream… I… I thought I'd lost you and…" The woman began to sob and there was something so wrong about how that looked that Vanille could barely keep her own tears at bay.

"Yes, it's me, Serah." It seemed wrong to take advantage of the woman like this, but Vanille didn't think she had any other choice. Gently, she stroked the woman's hair. "Just swallow this, okay? I've even got a little water to help you." She lifted a drink bottle to the woman's lips. "Please, just have a little, okay? You need to drink some."

The woman pawed at the bottle, spilling water along her front. "I don't want to…" The woman shuddered. "I… but… if you want me to… I just… I'll drink… just… don't go… promise me you'll stay."

Vanille closed her eyes and nodded. "Sure, I promise I'll stay. But you need to swallow the pill and drink some water."

Slowly, haltingly, the woman did as she was told, before she finally stilled and slumped into a real sleep.

Eyes a little watery, Vanille stood and made her way over to a corner of the attic that she'd fenced off with a curtain tied to the roof. Behind it was a small table, and on the table was a video camera. She smiled. Getting the camera had been easy – people hadn't been looting those from the stores – but getting the batteries and recording discs had been much harder. Still, it had been worth it. After all the others had… gone… it had been the only thing keeping her sane.

"Hey," Vanille said as she turned the camera on and sat in front of the table. It took her a few seconds of fiddling to settle it on her face. "How are you doing today, Bhakti?" She chuckled softly, a tinge of wildness to it. "Stupid question, isn't it? You're a video camera. You must be doing well though, you don't have to worry about the Infected trying to get you." She giggled and then forced herself to quieten down. Her guest needed all the rest she could get. Taking a deep breath, she leaned in close to whisper into the camera. "Guess what, Bhakti? I'm not alone anymore. I was going to see if there was anything else I could scavenge from the pharmacology department and then I heard all this shooting. I thought I was going crazy, but there she was. She was… she was beautiful, Bhakti, screaming and yelling, and killing all those Infected so easily. Can you believe it? She said she wanted to die, but I couldn't let her kill herself, so I went over there and saved her and then I brought her back here." She chuckled. "It wasn't easy either. She's bigger than me and I think I might have dropped her a few times, but I gave her some medicine and some water, so I think she'll be fine."

The camera gave a quiet beep as she changed the settings to zoom away from her face.

"Yes, I know she might be dangerous, Bhakti," Vanille said as she glared into the camera. "But… I couldn't just leave her there. Besides, I'd recognise that uniform anywhere. She's Guardian Corps, Bhakti, one of the good guys."

There was another beep as she changed another setting on the camera.

"Yes, I know that not all of the government guys were good. We heard them blowing up the bridges, but that was Sanctum Security. They were always a bit shady. The Guardian Corps were much better – they were like super police or something." Vanille patted the video camera fondly. "I remember one time, when me and Fang were little, matron took us to Bodhum beach. I got lost and I was really scared but this Guardian Corps guy, I can't remember his name, but he was pretty big and friendly, and I think it started with 'A'… anyway, he was really nice to me and he took me back to the matron and everything." She grinned. "So, they're good and if she's one of them, she has to be good too. Besides, she has pink hair. Evil people don't have pink hair." She gave a muffled laugh. "I only know one other person with pink hair, and she wasn't bad at all. A little feisty on the inside, but really nice."

Vanille picked up the camera, and the device gave a quiet beep as she padded over to where the pink haired woman lay. "Shhh, Bhakti, keep quiet." She pointed the camera at the other woman and zoomed in. "See that's her. She looked a little scary before, but now she just looks… well, kind of sad." She put Bhakti back on the table. "I'm going to have say goodbye for now. We can talk more later. And don't worry." She grinned. "I got more batteries for you. They're in the car, but I'll bring them up right away."

Still smiling, Vanille switched the camera off and walked over to one of the windows. It looked like a good day, bright and without too many clouds. Good. She still had to get her things from the car, and it would definitely take a few trips. It was much better working in the sun than working when it was all gloomy. Her smile widened. She had some nice food in the car – a few cans of pasta – and she wanted to have something nice waiting for her new friend when she woke up.

X X X

Lightning wasn't sure how much had time passed, but after what seemed like an eternity drifting in and out of a dream world haunted by all the ghosts of people she'd lost, she finally woke. Her jaw clenched. She'd seen Serah in her dreams, had been sure that her sister was right there looking after her, but she knew that was impossible. She'd seen the ruins of the university and the dormitories. She wanted – needed – to believe that Serah might still be alive, but deep down inside, she knew the truth, and it was a cold, bitter, cruel thing. Serah was gone, just like everything else.

So, why wasn't she?

Slowly, it came back to her: the red haired woman, the one who'd come out of nowhere, babbling, and shooting, and saving her life, even if she hadn't really wanted to be saved. She still didn't quite know why she'd agreed to go with her. Did she, maybe, in some small part of herself, still want to live? The thought horrified her. How could she want to live if Serah was gone, if she'd failed the only person in the world that she loved so utterly?

That red haired woman must have taken her somewhere. With a groan, Lightning forced her eyes to open so that she could take a look around. She was on a bed in some kind of attic. There were things placed neatly into different piles around the attic, but there was no sign of the other woman. Vanille, she thought, that was the woman's name. With a groan, Lightning forced herself to stand. Wait… her clothes… she wasn't in her Guardian Corps uniform anymore. Instead, she was dressed in a garishly bright orange t-shirt and shorts. It made her lips curl. Of all the clothes that someone could have taken during the panic, what could have driven Vanille to take these?

Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other, disgusted by how much effort it took. She needed to get to one of the windows so that she could see where she was. Suddenly, there was a noise behind her and she turned, one fist already in motion. It was a testament to her condition that the punch never landed.

And it was a good thing too.

Vanille ducked out of the way and then had to catch Lightning as her legs threatened to give way.

"Hey! No getting out of bed for at least a few more days," Vanille chided as she half carried, half dragged Lightning back to bed. Lightning could barely blink before she found herself tucked back into bed beneath a warm, but slightly scratchy blanket. "And trying to punch your doctor is just bad manners."

It sounded like it was supposed to be a joke, but Lightning couldn't bring herself to smile. Right now the only thing keeping her from breaking down was her firm grasp on the present. If she started thinking about the past of… of Serah, she'd go to pieces. "Where am I? Who are you? How long has it bee?"

Vanille grinned. "Don't worry, you're safe here. I've kind of forgotten the exact address, but we're in the attic of one of the apartment buildings about ten minutes drive from the university. As for me, I told you already. I'm Vanille." She shrugged. "I don't think last names matter too much anymore, so just Vanille is fine." She paused and put one hand on Lightning's forehead. "It's been three days since I found you."

"Three days?" Lightning's fists clenched. No wonder she felt so drained and hungry – she doubted she could have kept anything down during that time. "Why did you save me? I told you, didn't I? I was trying to die."

"Why would you want that?" Vanille whispered. "And please don't be mad at me for saving you. It's just… I'm really, really lonely now and I was hoping that maybe we could, you know, stick together." She paused. "And you did sort of say you'd go with me. I didn't force you to come with me."

Lightning wanted to yell. This stranger had no right, no right at all to ask her to stay, but there was something about the red haired woman's expression, something about the sad tilt of her chin and the disappointment in her eyes… it… it was almost exactly the same way that Serah looked whenever she had done something that she thought might get Lightning angry. Slowly, Lightning dragged in a deep, deep breath. This girl wasn't Serah. But all the same, she just couldn't bring herself to say no.

"I never asked you to save me," Lightning said softly. "I never asked you to risk yourself but…" She looked away, despising her own weakness. "But I suppose I should say thank you. I… I haven't seen anyone in a long time and I'm… I've never been good with people."

Vanille grabbed Lightning's hand and smiled sunnily. Maker, Lightning thought, even her smile was like Serah's. "It's okay, I haven't seen anyone else for a while either." She pointed back to one corner of the attic where a delicious smell had begun to fill the air. "I was in the middle of cooking breakfast when you woke up. It's soup today." She pursed her lips. "I can get you a bowl of some, and I think you'll be able to keep it down now that you're awake, but are you going to be able to feed yourself, or would you like me to do it?"

Lightning clenched her jaw. Regardless of how weak she felt, she was not about to let someone else feed her. "I can do it myself."

And she did. But it took her four times longer than it should have and by the time she was finished, she was utterly exhausted. Of course, Vanille watched her the whole time with eyes that seemed to shine with more than just mere interest.

"You never told me your name," Vanille said after they'd finished eating. "I think if we're going to be friends, I should know your name."

Friends? Lightning almost sneered. She didn't need friends. The only thing she needed was to find more Infected and let them end things for –

"Don't say that!" Vanille snapped, and in a flash she was next to Lightning again, her eyes wide with pleading, and her voice shrill with fear and panic. "Don't say that you want to end it." She trembled and her voice lowered till it was barely more than a whisper. "I don't… I can't do that again. I can't be on my own again, not for much longer…"

Lightning bit her lip. She hadn't meant to say anything out loud. Maker, she really was going crazy. Slowly, she took a deep breath, and then, not entirely sure why, she reached out to pat Vanille on the head. "I… I'm Lightning."

"That's a dopey name," Vanille said through her sniffles.

"I… I guess." Lightning swallowed thickly. Why did she even care if she'd brought Vanille to the verge of tears? The other woman was a stranger. She didn't owe her a damn thing. Still, it felt good to have someone care about her, and if she closed her eyes Vanille didn't really sound all that different from Serah. Bile burned at the back of her throat. Serah… what would Serah think of her treating someone like this? "I… I shouldn't have said that." She forced the words out. "I'm just talking… I'm not going to do anything rash."

"Good." Vanille giggled a little wildly and folded her arms over her chest. "I'm a doctor, you know, or at least I was studying to be one when all of this happened. Let me tell you, you were in pretty bad shape when I found you. It looked like you hadn't eaten or slept properly in weeks, and what were you thinking fighting the Infected like that."

"I got here as quickly as I could. There wasn't time to eat or sleep properly." Lightning's voice came out in a harsh, bitter whisper. "I wanted to find someone." There was a terrible rightness to saying the words out loud, like pulling a splinter out of her heart. "I… I didn't find her."

"Oh." Vanille looked at the floor. "I'm sorry. I… I lost a lot of people too, but I think, if I just give up now, it'll be like they died for nothing. Maybe it's crazy, but there has to be somewhere out there, some place where things aren't so bad. If… if I can just hold out long enough then I'm sure things will get better."

That was crap. Lightning knew it, and she could tell that deep down inside Vanille knew it too. But hope was a tenacious thing for all that it was fragile. As long as there was any reason to believe, people like Vanille would keep on believing. It was just a pity that Lightning wasn't that kind of person. "Maybe."

"That's the spirit." Vanille clapped her hands together and gave Lightning a watery smile. "Now, get some more rest. It'll be another day or so before you'll be ready to go walking around, but once you are, I'll give you the grand tour." She grinned. "I'll even introduce you to Bhakti!"

Lightning looked around. There didn't seem to be anyone else there, so who was Bhakti?

X X X

It took Lightning a day and a half before she was finally up to walking around on her own. She had been running on empty for so long that it actually felt strange to have a full stomach and a solid night's sleep. The grand tour, as Vanille called it, involved a quick trip around the attic.

To Lightning's surprise, the attic was actually reasonably well organised. The food and other perishables were kept in the coolest part of the attic away from the sunlight that came in through the windows, and the ammunition and weapons were kept well maintained and within easy reach. Only two things really surprised Lightning. The first were the plants that Vanille kept on the flat section of the roof, a place that could only be reached by a ladder hidden away in one corner of the attic. The second surprise was Bhakti.

Lightning had expected some kind of pet, perhaps a cat, but what she got was a video camera. Yes, there was definitely something a little wrong with Vanille. The red haired woman spoke a little too quickly when they talked, almost like she wasn't sure if Lightning was real, and her eyes sometimes seemed a little too wild. Lightning had seen other people like that back in Nautilus, most of them driven mad by the horror that had unfolded there. Still, if Vanille wanted to talk to a camera, Lightning was hardly in a position to judge. After all, they were both a little crazy. Who wouldn't be after the things they'd been through?

"So, this is Bhakti?" Lightning asked as she glanced down at the video camera that Vanille held in one hand. "A video camera?"

Vanille nodded like it made perfect sense. "Yes, and he's really nice too." She pointed the camera at Lightning and switched it on. "Come on, say hello!"

Lightning wasn't quite sure what to do. On one hand, the urge to just walk outside and end everything was still there, but on the other hand she was finding it harder and harder to see Vanille as just another stranger. Maybe she'd just been alone for too long, or maybe Vanille reminded her just a little too much of Serah for her to walk away. "I… I'm Lightning. I was a member of the Guardian Corps but…" she trailed off. There wasn't really much else to say.

Vanille laughed lightly. "Don't worry, you can come up with more to say later. Bhakti isn't going anywhere." She tugged Lightning by the hand. "Now, come on, I want to introduce you to the others."

"Others?" Lightning felt a chill run down her spine. Vanille's lips were smiling, but her eyes were sadder than Lightning had ever seen them. "What others?"

Vanille led her over to a table with half a dozen wallets on it. Lightning had thought they looked a little out of place, but hadn't really thought too much of them. Perhaps she'd been wrong.

"Take a look at one of them, but be careful, okay?" Vanille said.

Lightning reached for one of the wallets and opened it. There didn't seem to be anything remarkable about it, just some money, an ID, and a few other miscellaneous bits of clutter. She put the wallet down and looked at another and then another. They were all like the first. Why was Vanille keeping these?

"You know," Vanille murmured softly. "I wasn't always alone. There used to be more of us. We were friends, you see, at university." She chuckled softly. "We were really close, so when things got bad and they locked down the university, we stuck together. We managed to sneak out, but then the fires started and there was all of that panic and… and anyway, one of us had an apartment in this building." She picked up one of the wallets and stared at the ID inside. "Most of the building was burnt out, but we got lucky. The attic was still okay, and so we all holed up in here." She put the wallet down with a reverence that made Lightning's heart ache. "This might sound crazy, but it was almost fun, you know, almost like camping, and I've always liked camping. We got the fence up front fixed up, and we grabbed as many weapons as we could find. It was really tough, but we were careful, and once we'd gathered enough supplies to get by, we didn't have to go out so much." She paused. "There was lots of looting, you see, and lots of other bad stuff happening. We could hear it."

Lightning looked back at the wallets. They looked worn. They must have been opened and closed many times. "What happened?"

"Some of us wanted to stay here, and try to wait things out. But when days and days passed and no one came to help, we started to wonder if maybe help wasn't coming." Vanille's lip trembled. "We thought it might be better if we got out of the city, found some place remote. We had enough to last us a month at least, and there were so many Infected around that it wasn't that safe to go out for supplies anymore. So… we decided we'd try and leave the city. Get two cars and drive away."

Vanille shuddered and reached out to touch the wallets again. Lightning could see her lips moving as she whispered the names. "We didn't get far. One of the cars got stuck about halfway to the edge of the city and so we stopped to help, but the Infected came out of nowhere." She bit back a sob. "We split up. It was the only way any of us were going to make it out of there alive. We said we'd meet back here. I got back and… and I waited and I waited, but no one else got back. It was just me." She dragged in a ragged breath. "And then a few days later I went back to where the cars were. It was stupid, I know, but I had to find out… I saw them. They were… they were Infected."

Lightning stood motionless as Vanille pressed on.

"They were my friends and they'd become Infected. I… I couldn't leave them like that, so… so I killed them. Killed them dead." Vanille gave a wild laugh. "But I didn't have a shovel with me and there were more Infected coming so there was no way I could bury them. That's when I took their wallets. I wanted… I wanted something to make sure I'd never forget them, so that if I ever met their parents or someone else, then I could show them and they'd know who my friends were, what they'd looked like. I couldn't stand it if something happened to me and there was nothing to remember them by. It would be like they never existed and that's just not true. They were here, they were alive, and they were my friends." She glanced down at the wallets and then at Lightning. "Say hi to Lightning, guys."

Lightning said nothing. There was nothing she could say. She'd seen a lot of bad things – Nautilus had been a living nightmare – but she was a soldier, trained to deal with the worst that mankind had to offer. But what Vanille had seen, what she'd lived, was every bit as bad, perhaps even worse. It wasn't fair. But things hadn't been fair for a long time now. It wasn't fair that she was alive and Serah was dead. It wasn't fair that people had to shoot their own friends once they turned Infected. Nothing, nothing in the whole damn world was fair anymore, but that didn't change a thing. The world was what it was.

So, Lightning did the only thing she could do, what she would have done if it had been Serah standing there crying silent tears. Slowly, gently, she reached out to touch the wallets again. "Hey," she whispered. "Nice to meet you."

Vanille scrubbed at her cheeks and giggled softly. "I'm sure they're pleased to meet you too." She turned away from the wallets. "Come on, it's a good day today, so I'm going to go up onto the roof. The view isn't that great, but it's better than nothing."

Over the next week, the two of them fell into a routine. Each morning, Vanille would wake up well before dawn. Lightning wasn't sure why the other woman woke up so early, but she wasn't about to question her, not when she was still jumping at every creaking floorboard and shadow. Breakfast happened a little after dawn, and was usually something instant or from a can. The apartment building had lost power a long time ago, but Vanille had a gas powered hotplate to cook with.

They got most of their light from the windows set in one wall of the attic, but Vanille also had a few gas lamps and some torches that ran on batteries. And Vanille had a lot of batteries. After breakfast, Vanille would usually spend at least a few minutes talking to Bhakti. When she did that, Lightning did her best not to listen. After that, it was stock taking time, and Vanille would paw through her supplies checking what was still good, what wasn't, and what they needed more of.

Lunch took place around noon and dinner at about sunset. In between, Vanille spent most of her time reading, on the roof watching the day go by, or talking to her plants. For the most part, Lightning spent her time reading. Vanille had managed to gather a fairly reasonable collection of books, and reading let Lightning take her mind off the present, off the stark, horrible truth of her failure. Mostly she avoided fiction – it was hard to believe in happy ending after everything she'd seen – but there were books on engine repair, camping, and the like. Whoever Vanille's friends had been, at least one of them had been exceedingly practical.

Sometimes, Lightning joined Vanille on the roof. It was an odd thing to look out at a city filled only with ghosts and monsters, but there was a desolate beauty to it too. This was the end of the world and she and Vanille had front row seats. They talked a little sometimes. Lightning did her best to keep their conversation centred on the here and now. It hurt too much for her to think of the past, and thinking of the past only made the whispers in her head asking her to end it all a little louder. Some days it was all she could do not to give in, and she had a feeling that Vanille could feel when the voices got too loud, because she'd drag Lightning up onto the roof and talk all about her plants like they were real people.

There was also a radio in the attic.

"Have you heard anything on that?" Lightning asked over lunch. It was canned spaghetti, heated just enough to be tasty.

Vanille shrugged. "At first, we heard a lot of things, but after a while it just got really quiet." She paused. "About two weeks ago, I did pick up something, but it was just a recorded message, you know, an emergency broadcast or something, just playing back over and over. It stopped the next day though." She turned her gaze away from the radio and back onto the shopping catalogue beside her. Lightning fought the urge to rip the glossy paper to shreds. The world was dead. "I haven't heard an actual human voice on the radio in at least a month."

By the end of the week, Lightning finally felt strong enough to leave the attic. In fact, as strange as it seemed, she felt better than she had for a long time, at least from a physical standpoint.

"I'm going out today," Lightning said. They were eating breakfast: instant noodles, beef flavour. It was salty, but in a good, junk food sort of way. "My car should still be out there. It has a lot of things in it, things I need."

Vanille tensed immediately and put down her noodles. "I don't know if that's a good idea." She hurried over to Lightning and poked and prodded at her. "You're still not fully healed and –"

"I'm fine." Lightning glared at their surroundings. She needed to be outside, really outside, or she would go insane. "If you don't want to go out, I can go on my own."

"No!" Vanille put her hands over her mouth, seemingly startled that she'd shouted. Lightning was too. The sheer panic in Vanille's voice had almost been enough to make her spill her noodles. "I mean… I'll go with you."

Lightning's eyes narrowed. There was fear in the other woman's eyes, fear of more than just death. Was she afraid that Lightning wasn't going to come back? "Fine. Can we take your car to the university?"

Vanille nodded quickly. "Sure." She reached for her noodles again. "Let's just finish breakfast first."

They ate quickly, and Lightning tugged her Guardian Corps uniform back on. It was battered, but it was still better than normal civilian clothing. With timeworn quickness, she loaded her rifle and pistol, and made sure her knife was in place. In contrast, Vanille was in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but she had a shotgun of her own, along with a pistol and knife. As they turned to leave, however, Vanille darted over to the table to put one of the wallets into her pocket.

"What are you doing?" Lightning asked.

"Oh." Vanille opened the wallet. "It's mine. Just in case something happens and somebody finds me, I want them to know who I am."

Lightning looked from Vanille to the wallet and then back again. Slowly, deliberately, she took the wallet and put it back on the table. "You don't need it. Nothing will happen to you."

Vanille looked shocked, but then a broad smile crossed her face. Happily, she threw her arms around Lightning. "Because you'll look after me, right?"

Lightning stiffened. Vanille felt so much like Serah. "Yes." The words slipped out before she could stop them, and felt far too good to say. "I'll look after you."

The drive back to the university was less painful than Lightning thought it would be. She had worried that she might go mad seeing it again, the stark, horrible evidence that all but guaranteed that her sister was dead. Instead, however, she just felt hollow. There was just… emptiness. Intellectually, she knew she was still in some kind of shock, that at some point she'd have to face up to the fact that her sister was gone, but for now the numbness kept her functioning, kept her whole. It would have to do.

She chuckled mirthlessly.

So much of her heart had belonged to Serah, and with Serah gone, it seemed like her whole heart was gone too.

Her car was still where she'd parked it, and she and Vanille didn't have too much trouble picking off the half dozen or so Infected that had clustered around it. Vanille might be small, but she handled her shotgun with a skill that could only have come from bitter experience. The sounds drew more Infected, but luckily for them, the car was still in working condition. Lightning hopped in and followed Vanille back to the apartment. A few of the Infected gave chase, but even their hunger couldn't give them the speed to keep up. All the same, Lightning kept a vigil with Vanille on the lower floors of the apartment, just in case any of the Infected had followed them back.

Once they were sure that it was safe, they started to unload Lightning's car.

"You've got a lot of things in here," Vanille said as they emptied out the car.

Lightning shrugged. "I was planning on having someone with me on the trip back."

Vanille froze and looked guiltily at the can of food in her hand. Slowly, she reached to put it back into the car. "Um… we don't have to use these if you don't want too."

Lightning looked at Vanille. If Serah had gotten out, she would have run into other people. How would Lightning have wanted them to treat Serah? "No…" Lightning reached over and put the can back into Vanille's hand. A sob threatened to spill past her lips, but she forced it down. "It's okay… she… she would have wanted me to share."

X X X

Vanille heard one of the floorboards creak and jolted awake. A moment later, she had a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other as she searched the dimly lit attic for the source of the noise. A few seconds later, she relaxed. It was just Lightning.

Evening her breathing out, Vanille pursed her lips. The pink haired woman was still something of a mystery to her. She didn't want to talk about her past at all, and any attempt Vanille had made to find out more was cast aside with a curious mix of pain, coldness, and bluntness. At the same time, however, Lightning seemed more than happy to speak of mundane things, like how much fuel they had, where they could find more, and that kind of thing.

But Lightning had very good eyes. Vanille wasn't stupid – she'd begun to act strangely ever since the others had died, and her behaviour had only gotten stranger over time. Talking to plants and treating a video camera like it was alive weren't normal things to do, but they were all she could think of to cope. It hadn't taken Lightning more than a day or two to notice all of these little quirks, of that Vanille was sure, but she'd never said anything about it. Maybe it was because Lightning was also pretty strange. For one, she was hyper-vigilant, even more so than Vanille, and two, there were times when her eyes would glaze and her expression would soften. When that happened Vanille was certain that even though Lightning was looking at her, she was seeing someone else.

Vanille had been quite surprised by the lack of grief that Lightning had shown since her recovery. The reminders of her loss were everywhere, and she'd half-expected the pink haired woman to break down at the university. But Lightning hadn't. Her eyes had narrowed and her gaze had grown cold and almost empty, but she'd fought with a precision and skill that had taken Vanille's breath away. Vanille knew how to shoot, but Lightning made it seem almost beautiful.

Lightning also spent a lot of her time reading – always non-fiction – and she had already spent hours asking Vanille everything she knew about the city. Vanille supposed that it was better than Lightning thinking about killing herself, especially since there wasn't anything she could really do if Lightning actually wanted to die. Now that she was healthy, Lightning was bigger, stronger, and faster than her. Still despite the strangeness to her, Vanille had quickly become accustomed to Lightning's quiet presence by her side, a presence that was somehow reassuring despite its cold, hollow intensity. Maybe Lightning did see someone else when she looked at her, but that was okay. Vanille had a video camera for a pet. They both did what they needed to do to keep sane and stay alive.

Still, it probably wasn't good to keep everything bottled up. Vanille had even suggested that Lightning talk to Bhakti. The little camera was a good listener, and she'd even promised not to watch the disc afterward. In fact, Lightning didn't even have to record. But the tall woman hadn't taken to Vanille's suggestion very well at all. In fact, she'd gotten angry, really angry, in a silent, frosty, horrible way that made Vanille so scared that Lightning was either going to go away or do something stupid. She hadn't asked again after that.

Now, however, with the moonlight spilling in through the windows, Vanille could see Lightning plodding toward the curtain that hung over Bhakti's section of the attic. Slowly, deliberately, Vanille tugged her blanket over her head. She didn't want to listen to what Lightning had to say, but at the same time, it was impossible to ignore what happened next.

Lightning began to cry. It was the single most horrible thing that Vanille had ever heart, not because of how loud it was, but because of how quiet it was. It was like the other woman didn't even know how, and despite herself, Vanille found herself listening. She tugged the blanket back down, but even so, she couldn't make out more than a few of the words.

"Sorry…"

"Serah…"

"What now…"

"Nothing…"

Vanille wanted to put her hands over her ears, but her hands refused to move. Slowly, Lightning began to rock herself back and forth. Her sister, Vanille realised, that Serah person had been her sister and Lightning had come all this way to find her only to find ash and blood. It made her head spin. That kind of devotion…

Finally, Lightning's sobs subsided and she turned away from the camera. In the darkness, Bhakti's red recording light glowed like some kind of ghostly eye, but Vanille knew that no matter what happened, she would never be able to watch the tape. Some things were not meant to be seen or heard by others. But then Lightning's eyes locked onto hers and Vanille froze.

"You were listening." Lightning's voice was dead, and in the moonlight, Vanille could see the silvery tracks of tears down her cheeks. "Weren't you?"

Slowly, Vanille nodded. Lightning said nothing and padded over to loom above her, tall and silent, and so very, very sad. "Yes," Vanille murmured, voice little more than a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Did you know her?" Lightning asked. "My sister. Her name was Serah Farron. You said you were training to be a doctor, and I know she was going to become a teacher, but she was always so good at making friends. Not like me."

Serah Farron? Vanille shivered. "I didn't really know her that well, but… but some of my friends did. They… they said she was really nice, and she was always smiling, that she could be really feisty. Now that I think about it, you're the only two people I know with pink hair." She bit her lip. "I have a sister too you know, but I don't think I'll ever see her again either."

Lightning sat on the edge of the bed. "You know, when we were young, Serah and I used to talk in the dark like this. We shared a room, and we were supposed to go to sleep, but we'd stay up all night talking." Lightning's eyes were far away. "She was supposed to come home during the break. I was going to ask her how university was going and she was going to smile and tell me to stop worrying so much." She put one hand over her face. "I just… I just wish I could have talked with her like that one more time, just… just talked and whispered in the dark until we both fell asleep."

Vanille took Lightning's hand. "If… if you'd like… then maybe you could pretend."

Lightning's eyes widened and then slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered herself into the bed beside Vanille. It was cramped, and there were a few moments of awkwardness as their legs tangled, but finally Lightning settled, her arms around Vanille's middle, her face pressed into Vanille's hair.

"Thank you," Lightning murmured, the words thick with an emotion neither of them cared to name. "Thank you."

Vanille nodded and closed her eyes. Lightning was so warm and her arms were so gentle and firm, almost like Fang's were. "It's okay… you're not the only one pretending."

That night marked a change in things between them. Lightning was still sad, but it was a real sadness now, not the horrifying, soul-tearing grief that Vanille had glimpsed for a few moments in the dead of the night. When she looked at Vanille now, it was with a sort of puzzled affection, as though she couldn't make up her mind as to whether she liked Vanille for who she was, or whom she reminded her of.

To Vanille though, it was an improvement. When they talked now, it was honestly, and it wasn't always about mundane things, it was about each other. Of course, it started with little things. For instance, one day as they'd hurried up onto the roof to make sure that the plants were okay during a storm, Lightning mentioned that she'd always been good at sports, that if she hadn't needed the money so badly, she might have taken an athletics scholarship into university rather than going straight into the Guardian Corps. On another occasion as they prowled the ruins of a department store for new clothes, Lightning talked about her distaste from dresses, and how Serah was always trying to get her to wear more of them. Frankly, Vanille thought, with all the Infected wandering around, dresses were a thing of the past.

If Lightning spent most of her time talking about Serah, Vanille spent most of her time talking about her own sister, Fang. Their conversations could get strange sometimes, with long awkward pauses, but for Vanille they were more than enough. That didn't stop her from watching Lightning closely on the days when the other woman's eyes got sad and angry and full of a kind of self-directed fury. When those days came, Vanille would quietly make sure that Lightning stayed away from her weapons and the stairs out of the attic. She was sure the other woman noticed, but Lightning never said anything.

Things changed again one day when the two of them were up on the roof watering her plants. She called them Bill, Sam, and Tommy, and each of them had a pot of their own. She'd even gotten Lightning a plant, but the other woman had steadfastly refused to name it. So, Vanille had called it Grumpy, and set up right beside the others.

Above them, the sky was clear and the sun was shining. If they hadn't been in the middle of the apocalypse, it probably would have been a pretty good day. Sighing, she leaned over to water the plants.

"If you could do anything in the world, Vanille what would you do?"

Lightning's question had come out of nowhere and Vanille would have tripped over if the other woman hadn't reached out to steady her.

"I'm not sure," Vanille said softly. Lightning's gaze wasn't on her, so much as it was on the horizon, on something neither of them could see. "But maybe… well, I grew up in the mountains. If I had to pick one thing… I'd like to see the ocean again. One time when I was little, I went to Bodhum. The beach was so beautiful, and the ocean was so blue… I'd love to see that place again."

Lightning looked at her, and there was something unreadable in her eyes. "Then let's go."

Vanille dropped her watering can and fumbled to pick it up it before all the water spilled out. "What? What do you mean?"

"I'm from Bodhum," Lightning said quietly. "And… and if this is how the world ends, then I think I'd like to end my days there. Not here… not with all of this." She gestured at the ruins of Eden City. "Serah always loved the beach and I think… I think I'd like to go see the house we have there one last time and…"

"You're talking like you're going to die," Vanille whispered. "Please, don't talk like that."

Lightning gave her a sad smile. "We're both dead and you know it. All it's going to take is time." She closed her eyes. "So many things I've seen lately have been horrible. I'd like, at least one last time, to see something really beautiful. I'd like to see the sun rise over the water, to see the ocean light up with all the colours of the dawn." She opened her eyes. "Wouldn't you rather spend what time we have left there than here?"

Vanille looked at the city spread out in front of them, at the burnt out skyscrapers, and deserted streets. "All right." She reached over and took Lightning's hand in hers. "But you'll stay with me, won't you? You won't do anything crazy? You'll stay as long as you can, and even when we get there, you'll stay with me, right?"

Lightning nodded and gave Vanille's hand the gentlest of squeezes. "As long as I can."

Vanille smiled. "Then let's go."

It took them a week to get ready. After what had happened to her friends, Vanille refused to take two cars. Instead, they had to scour the streets until they finally found a four-wheel drive big enough to pull a trailer and still be reasonably fast. With that out of the way, it was simply a matter of choosing what to bring and what to leave behind. Supplies and ammunitions were obvious things to bring along, but what to do about the plants and Bhakti?

Vanille chose to leave the plants behind. They were getting too big for their pots, so she planted them in front of the apartment block. All of the ash would make for good soil, and that way they could still be together. Just in case anyone came by, she put little markers in front of them with their names on them.

However, there were some things that she couldn't leave behind. The wallets went with her. She and her friends had never gotten a chance to go to Bodhum together. This would be the closest they'd ever get. And finally, Bhakti went with them too. The camera might not be alive, but from the time that her friends had died to Lightning's arrival, he had been her only friend. Besides, if by some miracle it wasn't the end of the world, then people needed to see, they needed to know what had happened.

As they stood in front of the four-wheel drive with the trailer hitched up and everything ready to go, Vanille turned to Lightning.

"Is it all right if we go back to the university for a second?" Vanille asked.

Lightning nodded. "Sure."

When they reached the university, they had to spend the better part of fifteen minutes clearing away the Infected that appeared. With Lightning keeping a keen eye on their surroundings, Vanille took out a can of spray paint and headed toward the university's great hall.

"I've always wanted to do this," Vanille said. "And at least this way, if anyone ever comes by, they'll know we were here. We won't be forgotten."

Faintly, so faintly that Vanille couldn't sure that it had really happened, Lightning smiled. "Go ahead."

And a few minutes later they were back in the four-wheel drive headed out of the university and toward Bodhum. On the wall of the great hall was a simple message in bright orange paint with the date beside it:

Vanille and Lightning were here. Gone to Bodhum to see the beach.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy nor am I making any money off of this.

So… I'm back, at least with this story. I won't get into the specifics of the delay, although you do have my apologies for the wait. I won't really say anything about this chapter because I think it speaks for itself. I will say, however, that it is my favourite chapter of the story so far. Desperation makes for quick friendships and in times of crisis people latch onto whatever they can to stay sane and keep alive. Hope is a tenacious thing, for all that it is fragile, but once it's dead, it tends to stay that way. Also, the wallet thing was inspired by the movie "The Grey."

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Are we going to stop soon, daddy?"

Sazh glanced over into the passenger seat at his son, Dajh. "It shouldn't be too much longer. I came here once with your mother."

Dajh made a face. "I don't remember coming here."

"Well, that's not surprising." Sazh allowed himself a small smile and reached over to ruffle Dajh's hair with one hand. "It was before you were born." He pointed out the window. "The town we're going to is on the other side of the lake."

"The other side?" Dajh pressed himself up against the passenger side window and strained to make out what Sazh was pointing at before sitting back down with a huff. "I can't see the town, daddy, but the lake is really pretty."

"It is, isn't it?" Sazh smiled again, but this time the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "It really is."

And for a moment, Sazh let himself savour the beauty beyond the dusty, worn surface of the four-wheel drive's windows. Lake Bresha was there beside them, a broad expanse of glittering water that seemed to go on forever. Even now, with the world in ruins, its waters still shone like so much finely crafted crystal, seemingly untouched by the horror of the Infected. But Sazh knew better.

"Why did you and mommy come here, daddy?" Dajh asked. He tilted his head to one side and grinned. If he really, really tried, he could just make out the town on the other side of the lake.

Sazh chuckled softly. "You'll understand when you're older, son, but sometimes when two people really love each other, they like to try and spend some time with just each other." He glanced down at Dajh's lap. "Chirpy's been pretty quiet, is he okay?"

Dajh's nodded and reached down to give the yellow chocobo in his lap an affectionate pat. "He's just a little tired, daddy. I spent a lot of time playing with him yesterday." Much to Dajh's delight, the little bird gave a yawn before it tried to tug his hand over to use as a pillow. "Thank you so much for letting me keep him."

"It's all right, son. A boy should have a pet." Sazh added a hint of firmness to his voice. "But remember, you've got to be careful. You need to teach him to be quiet when he needs to be, and you need to keep a very close eye on him. I know you really like him, but if he runs away, we might not be able to go look for him because things are really dangerous right now." And they would probably stay that way too.

"I know, daddy." Dajh gave Chirpy a pat on the head. "But I promise I'll take really good care of him. He'll grow up to be big and strong."

"I'm sure he will."

Sazh looked at the road ahead and eased his foot down on the accelerator a little more. The road was clearer here than in most of the other places they'd been. That was probably down to the fact that Lake Bresha was a holiday town. For most of the year, it was fairly quiet, but in summer, its population would more than triple as holidaymakers came from all over the world to enjoy the lake and its surroundings. However, the Infection had hit during the quiet season, which was at least one thing to be grateful for. Had it hit just a few months later, the roads around the lake would probably be jammed with abandoned cars.

Lately though, their luck had been pretty good. Chirpy had hatched just over a week ago, and Sazh still couldn't quite put into words how grateful he was to have the little bird around. Dajh had so few good things left in his life. In fact, Dajh seemed to think that any day where they didn't have to fight for their lives was a good one. That might be true, but that was no way for a boy to be thinking. Sazh wanted, needed, the chocobo to be something good for Dajh, something that he could hold onto to help him through the hard days. He smiled. The chocobo had delivered, and from the moment that the bird had opened its eyes and given Dajh a big squawk and friendly peck of approval, Sazh knew that he'd done the right thing in bringing it with them.

Of course, not everything about the chocobo was good. For one, the bird needed food. They had some grain in their supplies, but they'd been forced to stop somewhere else to look for more. Sazh had felt like a complete idiot risking his life to get food for an animal that could fit into his palm, but the broad smile on Dajh's face had been worth it ten times over. Besides, if things really got tough, chocobos really could eat almost anything.

It might only have been a week, but Sazh thought that Dajh had taken to his new responsibilities quite well. The boy looked after the bird diligently, feeding it three times a day, and never letting it out of his sight, even when they stopped somewhere. Sazh wasn't sure what they'd do as Chirpy got older – he didn't know what breed of chocobo Chirpy was, and some chocobos could get very, very big – but hopefully they'd have something worked out by then. And that was assuming they even lasted long enough for it to matter.

The road ahead of them curved around a moderately sharp bend, and Sazh guided the car around the corner and past a burnt out pick-up truck. His lips thinned. He still wasn't entirely sure how coming back to Lake Bresha made him feel. On a purely practical level, he definitely thought it was the right decision. Lake Bresha was pretty quiet outside of the holiday season, so there was a pretty good chance that they'd be able to pick up some more replies. They might even be able to find a place to stay for a while until the Infected found them and forced them to move on. However, there was also a part of him that wanted nothing more than to turn the car around and drive away. Lake Bresha had given him so many good memories. He didn't want to see it all messed up like everywhere else.

He shook his head. He needed to stay sharp. The last thing he wanted was to lose himself in memories at a time like this, but it was hard, so hard to keep his mind in the present when Lake Bresha had so much to do with his past. He'd told Dajh the truth before – Sazh and his wife, Lahna, really had gone to Lake Bresha about a year before the boy had been born. Sazh had been a fool back then, working two jobs and plenty of overtime to try and get Lahna all the good things in life.

A nice house, a good car, and the money to buy anything she wanted – Sazh had wanted, more than anything, to show Lahna that he was the man for her, that she hadn't made a mistake in marrying him, even though her parents had never really approved. It was only when she'd threatened to leave him that he'd realised his mistake. She didn't need a mansion to live in, and she didn't need an expensive car. What she wanted – what she'd wanted all along – were him and a family. It had been a humbling thing to hear. His whole life, he'd had to fight and scrape, just to get by. Going through university he'd spent more hours working than in the classroom. To have a woman like Lahna, a woman who'd come from a good family, one that was more than well to do, to have her say that she'd be happy if it could be just the two of them and any children they had… that had made him feel like a damn fool, but the luckiest damn fool in the whole world.

So, he'd cut back on his work, and done his very best to make it up to her. They didn't have as much money, but they had more than enough to get by, and they were definitely happier. After a while, they had enough saved up to spend a whole fortnight at a nice cabin along the lakeshore at Lake Bresha. He smiled and eased his hold on the steering wheel a fraction. Those had been two of the best weeks of his life, and no matter how bad things got, he'd always have those memories to help him along. Waking up beside Lahna, holding her, just talking, and eating, and swimming in the lake… even just having to carry all of her things while they were shopping… he'd give anything to have those days again. They'd even rented a boat and gone out onto the water. He chuckled. He hadn't been much of a sailor, and it had been embarrassing when she'd caught twice as many fish as him when they'd gone fishing. But that hadn't mattered too much in the end. She'd been happy, and so he'd been happy too.

"Hey, daddy! Look!" Dajh cried as he pointed out the window.

Sazh clenched his jaw. Stupid. He couldn't afford to space out like that. Even a moment's inattention could get him and Dajh killed. "What is it, son?"

"There, daddy! Look!" Dajh pointed again and Sazh slowed the car down a little.

Over by the side of the road were a couple of cabins. The trees had been cleared back to leave them in open ground and behind them, Sazh could make out a small pier. However, what had most likely caught Dajh's eye was the playground set just a little to the side of the cabins. It was like something out of a neighbourhood park with a seesaw, swings, and even a slide.

"Can we stop there, daddy?" Dajh asked excitedly before his voice grew soft. "Or is it too dangerous?"

Sazh pursed his lips. "Well, we haven't had breakfast yet…" He nodded and smiled. "All right, I guess we can take a look, but if it's too dangerous then we'll just have to keep on driving, okay?"

Dajh grinned. "Sure." On his lap Chirpy gave a happy cheep and nudged one of Dajh's hands. "Let's go take a look."

Sazh brought the four-wheel drive to a stop at the side of the road in front of the cabins. He could have driven down the short driveway to pull up alongside the cabins, but experience had taught him that it was better to keep the four-wheel drive on the road. That way it would be easier to drive away in a hurry if they had to.

"Stay in the car," Sazh ordered as he opened the door on his side. "And lock the doors, okay?"

Dajh nodded. "Be careful daddy."

"I always am." Sazh paused for a moment at the side of the car to check his shotgun, pistol, and knife one more time before he shut the car door and started the short walk to the cabins.

The gravel of the driveway crunched beneath his feet as he edged his way toward the cabins. His eyes moved quickly to scan his everything around him. There were shrubs along either side of the driveway, and further back the trees had been cleared away from the cabins and playground to leave everything in relatively open space. However, he'd learned the hard way that the Infected could be anywhere. More than once, he'd seen them crouched in the bushes alongside the road, or else lying in drains and ditches. He wasn't sure how they'd gotten there, or why they stayed there, all that mattered was that he needed to consider the possibility that the Infected could be anywhere, even in places that didn't seem to make sense.

There was a rustle from the side of the driveway and he snapped his shotgun around as the bushes shook. A second later, he let out a sigh. It was just a squirrel. The little animal darted across the driveway then stopped halfway to glare at him, almost like it couldn't believe he had just pointed a gun at it. He glared back and the squirrel scampered off in the direction of the trees. He shook his head. It was good to stay alert, but encounters like that weren't good for his heart. Still, a squirrel was a good sign. Animals hated the Infected.

He reached the steps of the first cabin and paused. The windows were all broken and there were long scratches on the door. The Infected had clearly been here at some point. Gingerly, he reached for the door, only to stop short. The door wasn't locked. With a growl, he lunged forward and kicked the door off its hinges.

The door flew back with a bang and he stepped away to give himself room to shoot at anything that came through the door at him. There was nothing. Hesitantly, he poked his head inside the door. The inside of the cabin was a mess. Old blood and gore stained the walls and floor, and the tattered remains of the occupants lay in one corner. He was about to step inside to take a look for supplies when he heard a noise come from behind him. His eyes widened – there was still the other cabin.

He spun around to see one of the Infected shamble out of the other cabin. Its mouth was caked in dried blood and it moved with a rough, shambling gait that hurt just to look at. As its eyes locked onto him its jaws snapped open and it lurched forward with a harsh wail. His lips curled. The Infected could seem slow, even awkward, but once they sensed food, they were a different matter altogether. With a burst of speed, the Infected tumbled through the railing around the porch of the second cabin and leapt toward him.

He barely even blinked.

His shotgun roared and the Infected was blown back to crash against the side of the other cabin. Dark red splattered the wall from its ruined head and upper body and Sazh watched with his lips drawn into a thin line as it slid slowly down the wall to crumple against the ground. He let his eyes linger for a moment longer to make sure that it was dead and then made his way over to the second cabin. Where there was one Infected, there could easily be ten.

However, the second cabin was little different from the first. He eyed the carnage within and felt his eyes prickle. The smell was unbelievable. It was remarkable just how long a corpse could smell for. Still, at least the bodies inside were dead. The Infected that had killed them had been too hungry to restrain itself, smashing the heads of the occupants of the cabin in its hunger. Even so, he would have to make sure that Dajh kept his distance. His son didn't need to see this.

Despite the gore, the cabins did hold a few things of use. All of the food had long since spoiled, but there were a few rounds of ammunition that he was happy to take. With the cabins checked, he made his way down to the pier. There was nothing there, and after taking a good look at the trees closest to the cabins, he'd made up his mind. The area was safe, or at least as safe as any place could be nowadays. He and Dajh could have breakfast here and then Dajh could have a while to play. In the meantime, he'd keep watch and consider what supplies they needed so that they wouldn't have to stay in town any longer than they had to.

He walked back to the four-wheel drive and knocked on the door. Dajh gave him a broad smile from inside.

"Hey, Dajh, it looks like today is your lucky day." Sazh grinned. "It looks okay. We can have breakfast here and then you and Chirpy can play for a while." Both the boy and the bird made happy sounds and Sazh shook his head. It was almost like the chocobo could understand him.

"Thanks, daddy!" Dajh hopped out of the car, Chirpy tucked into one of his jacket pockets.

"Not so fast, son," Sazh said. "I think we'll be having soup today, so you'll need to carry the cans for me so that I can have one hand free. We can eat over on that bench beside the playground, but no going anywhere without telling me, okay? And no going into the cabins."

"Okay." Dajh frowned. "Um… daddy, I heard you shooting. Was there… was there one of them here?"

Sazh didn't see the point in lying to his son, and at least this way, Dajh would know to be careful. "Yes, but I got him and there don't seem to be any others. Just stay alert, and be careful, and if you even think that you see something, tell me."

"Right." Dajh climbed back into the car and grabbed two cans of soup as Sazh got the gas-powered cooker out. "Let's get cooking, daddy."

It didn't take them long to get the cooker set up and the soup warm enough to be tasty. They ate on the bench, straight from the can, and Sazh kept a lookout as Dajh watched the waves lap at the pier. Chirpy, of course, wasn't a big fan of soup, although he seemed to like the smell well enough. Instead, the chocobo seemed content to peck at the grass.

"I'm finished, daddy," Dajh said. "Can I go and play?"

Sazh nodded. "Sure you can." He tapped the shotgun spread across his lap. "But you'll have to do it on your own. I'm a bit old for playgrounds, and someone has to keep watch."

Dajh made a face. "You're not that old, daddy." He ran toward the slide. "But it's okay, I can play with Chirpy."

Sazh watched with a small but genuine smile on his face as his son and the chocobo played. Dajh climbed the ladder up to the top of the slide and then had to stop as Chirpy let loose as an indignant squawk from the bottom of the ladder. With a grin, Dajh reached down to help the chocobo up and then with Chirpy safely held in his arms, boy and chocobo slid down the slide and landed at the bottom with a laugh.

The two went up and down the slide a few more times before Dajh moved onto the swings. With Chirpy tucked into his jacket pocket, Dajh quickly got the swings moving back and forth, and Sazh felt his heart swell with pride. He'd taught Dajh how to use the swings properly just before the Infection had hit. After the swings, Dajh and Chirpy moved onto the seesaw, but they had a little less success there. Chirpy was definitely willing, but he was simply too small to be of much use on the opposite side of the seesaw. Finally, the pair crouched in the sand that covered much the playground and tried to build a little fort. The sand was too dry for that to get far, but neither boy nor chocobo seemed to mind too much. If anything, Chirpy seemed happy just to put his claws to work.

In the meantime, Sazh kept careful watch on their surroundings as he thought over what supplies they needed to find in town. They had enough fuel to last them for some time, but he definitely wouldn't mind having more since there was no telling when they'd be able to find more. As for food, they could definitely use some more of that. They had enough to last perhaps another week if they stretched it, and with things the way they were, a week's worth of food wasn't nearly enough. At least they had plenty of ammunition. His brows furrowed. They'd gotten lucky three days ago, if you could call it that.

They'd stumbled across the remains of a Sanctum Security barricade. Everyone had been dead, but Sazh had been able to scavenge quite a lot of ammunition and a few extra weapons. He hadn't enjoyed robbing the dead, but guns were no use to anyone except the living.

Watching Dajh play, it was almost possible for Sazh to forget about everything that had happened. The only thing that kept him from doing that was the one person missing from their family – Lahna. He looked down at his hands. His son loved him so much, but would he still love him if he knew what Sazh had done, if he knew just whom Sazh had killed. He felt something between a sob and a laugh well up from deep inside him, but he managed to force it down.

Dajh believed that his mother had gotten lost in the chaos of the Infection's outbreak, that maybe they'd run into her if they just kept driving around long enough. But that was a child's hope, foolish and misguided. But Sazh was also responsible, because Dajh had based his hopes on a lie – a lie that Sazh had told him.

And it was a lie.

Lahna wasn't lost. She was dead.

Sazh would know.

He'd been the one to kill her.

Sazh felt another sob build up and bit his lip until it passed. It had all happened on that last day, that last day when everything in the world had gone wrong. He'd gotten a call at work – Lahna was in the hospital. Some lunatic had attacked her and bitten her, and she had ended up in the hospital. He'd been busy at work, but that hadn't mattered at all. He'd left work and gone straight to the hospital.

Things had gone all right for a while. Lahna had been in some pain, but nothing the drugs couldn't ease, and she'd been more shocked than really hurt. But then Sanctum Security had come and locked the entire hospital down. They had demanded to see anyone who had come in with bites or anything of the sort. And then – Sazh swallowed thickly – then they'd started shooting. It was crazy, and Sazh had been forced to huddle behind one of the nurse's counters as more patients were dragged out of their rooms and executed. The Sanctum Security people had been talking over their radios, muttering about some kind of Infection spreading and turning people into monsters, that killing anyone and everyone who'd been bitten was the only solution.

Insanity. Absolute insanity

Sazh had managed to sneak away and had gone straight to Lahna's room. Somehow, they had managed to sneak out, even as more patients were killed and the Sanctum Security forces fanned out through the hospital. But it had been too late by then. There had been pandemonium in the streets. People had been killing each other, ripping and clawing with their teeth and hands. Their eyes… Maker… their eyes had been like bitumen and the sounds they'd made… Sazh had grabbed a gun from a dead police officer and gunned down anyone who tried to come after him and Lahna.

And then she'd turned.

One minute, Lahna had been feeling sick and trembling in his arms, the next she'd been clawing at his throat. He hadn't wanted to believe it – couldn't believe it – but there she was, his wife, the apple of his eyes, with pitch-black eyes and her features drawn into a hideous mask of inhuman rage as she tried to rip out his eyes and tear out his throat with her teeth. He'd thrown her off and begged her to stop, but she hadn't, and when she'd lunged at him, he'd acted on instinct.

The shot had caught her right in the middle of her chest. It should have either killed her outright or stopped her in her tracks, but it hadn't. Instead, she'd screamed, a sound like something out of a nightmare and charged again. So he'd fired – again, and again, and again. But she'd still kept coming until finally one of his shots had gone high and hit her in the head. Only then had she stopped, a hole blown right through her forehead. He'd dropped to his knees beside her, his heart every bit as dead as she was.

To this day, he wasn't sure how long he'd knelt there, staring dumbly at her body, but finally, he'd picked himself back up and done the only thing he could think of. He'd stolen a car and driven straight to Dajh's school. It was chaos there too, but he'd managed to find Dajh and together the two of them had driven as fast as they could away from the centre of town. And when Dajh had asked where his mother was, Sazh hadn't been able to tell him the truth, that his mother had died a monster, and that his father had been the one to kill her. So instead, Sazh had told him the lie. But was it really for Dajh's sake, or his own?

Sazh sighed. Maybe it was a bad idea to come back here. Even if there were supplies, the memories were still a little too vivid for his liking. He glanced back at Dajh and frowned as the boy stopped and turned worried eyes toward Chirpy.

Dajh lifted the chocobo up. "Chirpy, what's wrong?"

"What's going on?" Sazh asked.

"I don't know." Dajh's lower lip trembled and he ran over to Sazh with Chirpy cradled in his small hands. The chocobo was trembling and shaking and had his head beneath one of his wings. "He was all happy just a second ago and now he's so quiet and he's shaking a lot and…"

Sazh got to his feet. "Put Chirpy in your jacket and grab the things. We're leaving. Now."

"Daddy?" Dajh whispered as he tucked Chirpy into his pocket and picked up the gas-powered cooker. Thankfully, the device wasn't too heavy for him to handle, though he needed both hands for it.

"Come on." Sazh looked around and started to lead Dajh back toward the car. "You have to remember, Dajh, animals don't like the Infected. If Chirpy is acting scared, then he might have noticed something that we haven't." He glanced around again. He couldn't see anything, but the area around them had gone oddly quiet. "We need to get back to the car right now."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the first of the Infected broke through the trees near the edge of the playground. Sazh's jaw clenched. What had drawn them here? Was it the gunshot, or was it the smell of food? Never mind, they were here now and he would just have to deal with them as best he could. However, that was easier said than done, especially since another half a dozen Infected had arrived on the heels of the first, and from the sounds coming from the trees, there were still plenty more of them.

"Run!" Sazh shouted as he gave Dajh the car keys. "Get to the car and start it up!" Dajh nodded and broke into a run for the car. Halfway there, the boy stopped to glance back, but Sazh simply shook his head. "Don't worry about me, I'll hold them off."

The first of the Infected reached Sazh just as Dajh got to the car. It was an old man, or at least, it had been once, and Sazh waited until it was too close for him to miss before he brought his shotgun up and fired. The blast hurled the Infected back as bits of its plaid shirt went everywhere. The other Infected lurched past it, hands drawn into claws, and Sazh fired twice more. The shots decapitated one Infected and another two went down, blown almost in half, but the others pressed on, hunger clear in bitumen black eyes.

"Hurry, daddy!" Dajh wailed. "Come on!"

Sazh fired again into the pack of Infected and chanced a look back at Dajh. Good, the boy was in the car and the four-wheel drive gave a groan as the engine started. However, what little relief he felt vanished as more Infected came from the direction of the cabins. One of them leapt onto the hood of the four-wheel drive and drew one arm back to punch through the windscreen.

"No!" The shotgun roared and the Infected went down, its head and chest in ruins. Blood splattered the windscreen and Sazh broke into a ragged run toward the four-wheel drive. Behind him, the Infected gave chase, screaming and wailing.

"Daddy!" Dajh screamed. "Daddy, come on!"

Sazh reached the car and turned, his breathing coming in short, harsh gasps. The Infected that had come from the direction of the playground were right on his heels and the ones coming from the direction of the cabin weren't far off either. With a growl, he emptied his shotgun into the Infected coming from the playground. They went down, not dead, but hobbled for the time being, and he turned to face the other Infected, his pistol already in his hand.

There were four of them, and he managed to drop two of them before the other two reached the car. One of them leapt right at him, and Sazh swung the car door around to catch the Infected head on. It struck the edge of the door with a dull thump and Sazh managed to put a bullet in its head before the other leapt over the door and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. With a roar, the Infected slammed him up against the side of the car and Sazh felt his pistol slip from his hand.

"Daddy!" Dajh screamed. "Daddy!"

The Infected shoved him up against the car again, harder this time, and Sazh tasted blood. Blindly, he fought to shove one arm up beneath the Infected's chin as it lunged toward his throat. Its teeth gnashed less than an inch from his face and his eyes watered at the fetid odour that washed over him.

"Not like this…" Sazh growled. "And not in front of my son."

With a groan of effort, he swung the Infected around and smashed its head against the side of the car. The Infected roared, but Sazh grabbed it by the back of the head and drove its face into the side of the car again. There was a wet crunch and the Infected let loose a low groan. With a harsh cry, Sazh flung it away from the car and reached for his pistol. The Infected tumbled across the ground, its skull almost caved in, and Sazh put a bullet between its eyes.

Dragging in one ragged breath after another, Sazh turned his attention to the Infected that he'd hobbled a few moments ago. Some of them had found their feet again, and he squeezed off a few rounds in their direction as he staggered back toward the car. He slumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door just as one of the Infected reached the car. Its claws skittered off the door as he jammed one foot down on the accelerator. The four-wheel drive kicked up a spray of gravel and the Infected let loose a roar of outrage as the vehicle began to pull away. It followed the four-wheel drive, howling hideously, but Sazh kept his foot on the accelerator.

"Are you okay, Dajh?" Sazh asked as he glanced into the rear view mirror. The Infected were trying to give chase, but on a reasonably open road, there was no way that they'd catch up the four-whee drive. "Dajh?"

"I'm okay, daddy." Dajh gave him a worried look. "Are you okay, daddy?"

Sazh reached up to wipe some blood off his forehead. He must have cut it when the Infected threw him up against the car. "I'm fine." He put on a shaky smile. "You know, it looks like we owe Chirpy a treat. He noticed those Infected before either of us." He shook his head and blinked at the road ahead. "Can you get me a cloth from the backseat, Dajh? I can't drive if there's blood in my eyes."

Dajh nodded and clambered into the backseat. "Are we still going into that town today, daddy?"

Sazh grimaced. "I think so." He wasn't in the best shape, but if there were Infected around then they couldn't afford to stay any longer than they had to.

X X X

Sazh steered the four-wheel drive past another abandoned vehicle and down the final stretch of road into Lake Bresha. His plan was simple. They would go to the town's mall and hopefully there would still be something there that they could salvage. If not, then they'd just have to hit the convenience stores. As a last resort, they could even try raiding the cabins and hotels along the lakeshore, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that. He wasn't sure he could take that kind of stress, not when his heart was only just begun to slow down again after that encounter with the Infected.

There was a sign right in front of the town and Sazh could only shake his head. Welcome to Lake Bresha, it said, but right beside the words were scorch marks and bloodstains – a fine welcome indeed. Past the sign, things were little better. Just as he'd seen in so many other places, the streets were littered with debris and the occasional, half-eaten body. The shopfronts were all broken, and a few fires still smouldered here and there. What did surprise him was how few Infected there seemed to be. However, he didn't think for a moment that they weren't there. On the upside it was just going on noon, so if any Infected did come after him and Dajh, at least they wouldn't have any trouble seeing them.

With his eyes half on the road and half on the broken buildings on either side of them, he guided the four-wheel drive up the main street toward the mall. As they pulled into the car park, he felt a shiver of unease run through him. The car park was empty save for a few vehicles strewn about haphazardly, some with their doors torn off. One of the cars was even riddled with bullets holes.

"All right," Sazh said to Dajh as he got out of the car and checked that all of his weapons were ready. "I'm not leaving you alone in a place like this. We'll go together." He paused to tape a flashlight onto the barrel of his shotgun. "Have you got your things?"

Dajh nodded. He had his own flashlight and an extra pair of batteries just in case. "Yes, daddy."

"Good." Sazh ruffled his son's hair. "Now tell me again, what are the rules?"

Dajh checked his flashlight, turning it on and off a few times just to be sure. "I always need to stay close to you. I always need to keep my eyes and ears on everything around me, and I always need to listen to what you say."

"Good." Sazh was about to shut the door, but stopped halfway. After a bit of hesitation, he reached back into the four-wheel drive for one of the rifles that he'd found a few days ago at the Sanctum Security barricade. It felt a little awkward slung onto his back, but after his last encounter with the Infected he wasn't about to take any chances. Besides, when it came to dealing with the Infected, an additional weapon was the way to go. The Infected rarely gave people the chance to reload. "We'll try the supermarket first, Dajh. There probably isn't any power, but cans and instant food should still be all right. After that, we'll try the department store. We could both use some new clothes, and I know I could use some new boots."

They made their way over to the front doors of the mall and Sazh felt that shiver of unease go through him again. The lights were off, which meant that there really wasn't any power. They would have to rely on their flashlights then, something he tried to avoid whenever possible because batteries weren't exactly easy to find. Dark places also suited the Infected better.

They stepped through the doors into the broad open space that seemed to be a part of every mall. There was a fountain there full of dank, stagnant water, and Sazh had to stifle a hiss at the smell that filled the air. The source of it was easy enough to see – there was a corpse floating in the water.

"Stay back," he murmured to Dajh as he stepped forward to prod the corpse with the end of his shotgun. The corpse rolled over and Sazh almost gagged. It had been badly mauled, but judging by the decay, it couldn't be more than a couple of weeks old. He frowned. Whoever this person was, they'd managed to last quite a while before the Infected got them. "All right," he murmured. "Let's find the map."

Dajh looked around for a moment and then pointed. "Over there, daddy."

The map was a horrible thing, all bright colours and overly complex layouts, but after a bit of puzzling things out, Sazh was able to find the supermarket. It was on the floor below them. He sighed. That was just their luck. There was a bit of light coming in through the doors, windows, and the skylights built into the roof, but the floor beneath them would be much darker.

"Turn your flashlight on, son, it's going to be dark."

Dajh nodded and trembled a little as he turned his flashlight on. In his jacket pocket, Chirpy gave a quiet whimper. "Okay."

The escalator was right around the corner and as they climbed down, Sazh's grip on his shotgun tightened. It was almost entirely dark on the lower floor, the shadows broken here and there by the few fragile rays of sunlight that filtered down from the skylights past the floors above. It looked and felt like a death trap, but they hadn't come this far to turn back.

"Grab my jacket, son," Sazh ordered. "And don't let go, no matter what."

They stepped off the escalator and Sazh swept his shotgun around in a broad arc. The flashlight taped to the barrel gave him a glimpse of the horrors hidden in the shadows. There was a body propped up against the wall of a pet store, its stomach ripped open, and its face eaten away. Elsewhere, blood and gored stained the walls, and another corpse lay spreadeagled on top of a dented shopping trolley.

"This way," Sazh murmured. "According to the map, the supermarket shouldn't be too far."

As they inched their way toward the supermarket, Sazh kept his eyes and ears on their surroundings. But it was impossible to hear anything over the sound of his own breathing. In the distance, something clattered, and he swung his shotgun around in a wide arc. Slowly, he eased up. It could just have been a shopping trolley banging around, but even so, something must have bumped into it to get it moving. He took a deep breath. He was jumping at shadows. He needed to stay calm.

"Daddy, how much farther?" Dajh whispered. Like Sazh, his torch was in constant motion, his own eyes and ears straining to pick up any sign of trouble.

"It can't be much farther." Sazh glanced ahead and breathed a sigh of relief as his flashlight revealed the supermarket. "See, it's right there."

There were big piles of debris scattered in front of the supermarket, and Sazh felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple as he realised that not all of it was simple garbage. Tables had been arranged in a crude wall and there was spent ammunition all over the floor. People had been here, had tried to set up some kind of fortification. However, judging from the blood and other… things splattered across the ground, it hadn't worked.

"Don't look," Sazh said as his spotted one particularly grisly sight – a hand with three of the fingers missing. "Just… try to keep an eye out for any Infected, okay?"

They made their way past the makeshift fortifications into the supermarket and Sazh breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of a shopping trolley that looked to be in decent shape. Still, they'd have to be careful not to take too much. Without power the elevators wouldn't work, and there was only so much that he could haul up the escalators.

"Stay close."

The supermarket was in bad shape, just like Sazh had feared. The smell from all the spoiled food and others things that he didn't like to think about was terrible. As they walked past the check out counters pushing the trolley, he stooped to pick up a dented can.

"Get ready," Sazh murmured before he picked up the can and tossed it down the aisle closest to them. The can clattered down the aisle and he waited, shotgun at the ready, for any Infected to emerge. After a minute without hearing or seeing anything, he allowed himself to relax a fraction. Perhaps the Infected had moved on?

They headed right for the canned goods section of the supermarket and he was pleasantly surprised to find that there was actually a reasonable amount of food still there. Perhaps the people who had tried to put up fortifications in front of the supermarket had also tried to ration the food? It would have been the smart thing to do, especially once people worked out that that government wasn't in any position to help anyone. After they'd loaded up some canned food, they headed for the instant food. It was a little bulky, but it wasn't heavy, which was the important thing.

After the food came the water, and Sazh debated for a minute or two before deciding to load up as much as he could fit into the trolley. It would be a hassle, and he'd definitely have to take two trips up and down the escalator, but clean bottled water was not something they could afford to pass up. The only real disappointment came when they looked for some ammunition. Whoever had tried to defend the supermarket must have used all of it in the fight.

"We got a lot, didn't we, daddy?" Dajh said. There hadn't been any chocolate, but the prospect of some canned spaghetti was more than enough for him.

Sazh nodded. "We sure did." He began to push the trolley back toward the entrance of the supermarket. "But stay alert. We're not safe until we're out of here, okay?"

It took them two trips to get everything up the escalator, and another two trips to get everything back to the four-wheel drive. By the end of it, his back was aching, but it was worth it. They wouldn't have to worry about food or water for quite some time.

"Are we going back again?" Dajh asked.

Sazh pursed his lips. It would be pushing their luck to go back inside, but they still needed to check the department store. "Yes, but we'll be quick." He gave Dajh's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm proud of you, son. You've been very brave today. Just be brave for a little bit longer, okay?"

They headed back into the shopping mall for what Sazh hoped would be the final time. After all, clothes weren't heavy, and they did still have the shopping trolley to carry things in.

"Keep close," Sazh murmured as he pushed the empty trolley toward the department store with one hand, the other hand on his shotgun. "The department store isn't far, but we need to stay alert."

The lighting was better here, but all the broken shopfronts meant that there were a lot of places that the Infected could hide. As they walked past the broken windows of a travel centre, Sazh felt his lips curl. Many of the pictures of smiling people in exotic places were still up and he couldn't help but wonder if any of those places were still safe. For that matter, how many of the people in the pictures were even still alive. He'd bet that the answer to both those questions was none of them.

Their luck from before seemed to hold out as they reached the department store without trouble. It was reasonably well lit, its roof dominated by several large skylights that he assumed were there to give the department store an air of sophistication. However, their luck took a turn for the worse as he took in the bodies of three Infected by the entrance.

Blood was still oozing from the bullet holes in their bodies and heads. They were dead, but they'd been killed recently, not more than maybe an hour or two ago. His jaw clenched. Someone else was here, had probably been here since he and Dajh arrived. But why hadn't they shown themselves? Lugging the trolley up and down the escalator had been far from quiet.

"Daddy?" Dajh whispered. "Is it still safe here?"

Sazh glanced over the Infected one last time to make sure they were dead. "Someone else is here, Dajh." His brows furrowed. They could leave, but he and Dajh really needed those new clothes. Besides, if people had tried to make a stand here, then the department store might have other things in it that they could use, things like cookware, which had gotten harder and harder to find. And what if survivors had managed to carve out a safe place? True, they could just as easily be bad, but he and Dajh couldn't run forever. Sooner or later he'd slip. The only way that the two of them could hope to survive long-term would be to either find some place safe, or to find other people to travel with.

"We're going to go inside, Dajh." Sazh paused. "Now, there might be other people in there, and I know you're probably excited to meet them, but we don't know if they're good people yet. So stay careful, and if I tell you to, then you run away as fast as you can, okay?"

Dajh nodded and reached into his jacket to pat Chirpy. "Okay."

"Good." Sazh checked his weapons one more time. "Let's go say hello."

The front of the department store was a mess. Like most department stores, cosmetics were at the front along with designer clothes, and the air was filled with the lingering scent of old perfume. Containers of makeup and lipstick were scattered across the polished white floor amidst the upturned tables and chairs that had been used to try and make a crude wall just beyond the entrance. Sazh led Dajh through a gap in the wall, doing his best to keep the boy's eyes away from the bloodstains and bodies scattered around the wall and behind cosmetics counters. These people must have tried to make a stand, just like the ones in the supermarket, and by the looks of it, they'd met with a similar lack of success. Still, they hadn't gone down without a fight. The bodies of what looked to be two or three dozen Infected, maybe more, also littered the area, their heads and chests riddled with bullet holes.

It made for a grisly sight indeed, the bodies and gore at stark odds with the designer clothing that still hung from some of the clothing racks.

"There were a lot of them here, daddy," Dajh whispered as his eyes roamed over the bodies. Something in Sazh's gut clenched at the matter of fact way that his son said that. No boy should ever have to be so comfortable with this kind of thing. But that was the way the world was now. "Should we go back?"

"No, I think we should be okay." Sazh knelt by one of the dead Infected. The thing's head was gone, but its blood had congealed into a horrid brown-black mess. "The ones in here have been dead a while. Whoever is in there now, wasn't here there when all of this…" he gestured at the makeshift wall and the bodies around it. "Happened."

Sazh got back to his feet and looked around. "These designer clothes won't be much use to us. The clothes we want are probably down the back." He frowned. "I just wish I could see a map somewhere." He led Dajh into one of the aisles that seemed to run the length of the store. "We'll go this way. If we're lucky there should still be some clothes left – people were busy grabbing food when things went bad." He grinned. "Who knows, maybe we'll even find you something nice."

He led Dajh down toward the back of the department store. There was someone here, he was sure of it, even if he hadn't seen anything more concrete than the recently dead Infected up the front. As they passed racks of clothing and shelves laden with cosmetics, he stretched his senses as far as they would go. He could hear something in the distance rattling, and above them came the howl of the wind through one of the broken skylights. So many noises, and if he missed the wrong one, it could easily mean the end for him and Dajh.

Finally they reached the children's clothing section. They were in luck. A lot of it had been taken, but there seemed to be enough left over that finding something for Dajh wouldn't be hard.

"Try a few of those clothes on, son. If you find any that fit you, put them in the trolley." Sazh lifted his shotgun and narrowed his eyes. "I'll keep watch."

As Dajh tried on the clothes, Sazh sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker. The clothes were in fairly sombre colours rather than the garish shades more common to children's clothing. They were already targets for the Infected – there was no sense in standing out even more. Still, as the moments wore on, Sazh felt his nerves begin to fray. Upstairs, he could definitely hear something upstairs. It sounded like shoes scuffing on the floor, or someone struggling.

And then he heard it.

It was muffled at first, and cut off before he could be sure that he'd heard it at all, and then it came again, louder this time, and clear. It was a woman's scream, high and filled with panic and fear. Dajh froze where he was and Sazh snapped to full attention. That kind of scream… the Infected didn't – couldn't – scream like that. All they knew was hunger. Fear, panic, emotions like that were totally foreign to them. The scream was muffled again, but a second later it was followed by a cry of pain and then another scream, and then another.

"Daddy?" Dajh reached over to tug on Sazh's jacket. "What do we do?"

Sazh put one hand on Dajh's shoulder. "Just keep doing what you're doing, son. I'll make sure that we're okay."

"But what about the woman?" Dajh whispered. "She's in trouble, isn't she?"

Sazh bit his lip. He wasn't the kind of man to just stand by and do nothing when a woman was in trouble, but these weren't normal times. For now, his son had to come first. "Just let me worry about that, son. You just worry about finding the right clothes."

Frantic footsteps echoed through the department store now, followed by shouts, this time from several men. And they were getting closer. Sazh braced himself and pointed his shotgun in the direction of the sounds. If there were trouble coming, then he'd have to be ready for it. Suddenly it was there.

A pink haired young woman with blue eyes stumbled out from behind one of the shelves. Sazh felt a wave of shock sweep over him as he took in her appearance. There was a bruise on one side of her face and bruises on both her wrists. Her clothing was torn and there was a frantic look in her eyes.

"Please!" the woman screamed. "Please don't shoot. You… you have to help me. They've got Snow and they're… they're going to… to…"

Sazh lowered his shotgun a fraction as the woman ran past him and collapsed against one of the shelves not far from Dajh. The boy immediately darted away to huddle beside Sazh. A few moments later, four men appeared from the same direction the woman had come. All of them were armed and their eyes were filled with a wild, almost mad look. For a split-second they simply stared at Sazh in absolute surprise before their eyes fell onto the woman behind him. Sazh's brows furrowed as he took in the funny walk that one of the men had, along with the split lip and black eye that another sported.

"I didn't think we'd ever run into this many people again," one of the men drawled. He seemed to be the leader from the way he stood at the front, his rifle held at his side. "Now, I don't know who you are, old man, but how about you just hand that woman over?"

Sazh looked down at Dajh and then at the woman. He had a choice to make here. He had a son to look after but this… this wasn't something that he could just walk away from. He should have expected something like this though. There were always men who took advantage of others, and disasters like the Infection tended to bring them out in droves. He knew what a willing woman looked like, and the woman huddled behind him didn't look the least bit willing.

Sazh sighed. "How about I don't?"

The man chuckled. "Sure, I get it. It's probably been a while since you've had a woman yourself." He shrugged. "She's the first woman we've seen in weeks, and she's such a pretty thing too. Spunky though." He pointed at the man with the black eye and split lip and at the man who was walking awkwardly. "She gave us a lot of trouble, only settled down after we threatened to kill that boyfriend of hers. I still can't believe she actually managed to get away." He gave Sazh a grin. "But I'll tell you what. There's no need for us to fight. How about we share?"

"Share?" Sazh felt his blood boil. He liked to think that he was an easygoing man, but this was just too much. There was no way that he could walk away now. At his side, Dajh gave a small nod and Sazh felt his heart fill with pride. His son was just a boy, but he already knew the difference between right and wrong better than these men. "What you're offering me isn't yours at all. It's hers, and I don't think she wants to share a damn thing with any of us."

Behind him, the woman had managed to get back onto her feet, and he saw her reach for a knife hidden in her shoe. He almost laughed. It was hard to feel excited about a knife when he had four guns pointed at him.

The grin dropped off the leader's face. "Don't be stupid, old man." He glanced at Dajh and slowly, meaningfully levelled his rifle at the boy. "I can tell that boy is yours. Do you really want to risk him to protect some woman you don't even know? If you won't share, then walk away. We'll let you go, and you and your son can keep on doing whatever it is you do."

Sazh thought the offer over. It was a good offer given the circumstances, but it wasn't one that he could take. There were still nights when he saw all the people that he and Dajh had driven past as the Infection had spread. Some of them had screamed for help, but Sazh hadn't stopped for even one of them. He'd had a son to look after, a child to protect. Would walking away from this be any different? Maybe it wouldn't, but if he walked away now he'd never be able to look himself in the mirror, and he doubted that Dajh would ever looked at him the same way again. And when his time came and he stood before the Maker, what would he say for himself, what would Lahna think? He knew exactly what she'd think. She'd think he was a damn idiot and a coward, and if he walked away now, then she'd be right.

Sazh shook his head. "You're not laying one hand on her. Back off."

The leader's eyes narrowed into slits. "Do you really think you're going to walk away form this? Don't be stupid. Let us have her."

"Not a chance." Sazh levelled his shotgun at the leader's chest. "And if I die, you're coming with me. You want to enjoy yourselves, right? How are you going to do that with a big hole in your chest? So, ask yourselves, is forcing this woman worth your life?"

They all stood there, fingers on the triggers of their weapons. Sazh felt a bead of sweat roll down his cheek and shifted slightly to let Dajh move away from him toward the woman. Good, at the very least, his son wouldn't be in the line of fire.

The leader growled. "I'll ask you one more time, old man. Let us –"

And then his words were gone, drowned out by the thunderous roar of a gunshot. For a moment, Sazh was frozen, eyes wide with shock as the leader was thrown to the side, his chest a mass of mangled flesh and blood. A split-second later, another one of the men went down, thrown back by another shotgun blast.

"Daddy!" Dajh screamed. "Who is that?"

Dajh's cry broke Sazh out of his paralysis and he lunged toward Dajh and the woman. He shoved them behind a wooden shelf, painfully aware of the fact that it wouldn't provide any real protection from gunfire.

"Thank you," the pink haired woman blurted as more gunshots rang out, this time from the two remaining men. "Thank you so much. I was so scared and – please... that's… you have to help Snow!"

"Snow?" Sazh grimaced as another shotgun blast filled the air. Bits of wood and plastic flew every which way. "I'm assuming that's the person doing all the shooting now. Is he with you?"

The pink haired woman nodded. "Yes. Please help him."

Sazh frowned. He didn't like shooting people, although he'd already had to do it a few times to keep him and Dajh safe. However, in choosing to help the woman, he'd already committed himself to that if it was necessary. Besides, one of them had pointed a gun at Dajh, and that was something he absolutely would not stand for.

Eyes narrowed, he pushed out from behind the shelf and circled around to where the two remaining men were hiding behind a table. They seemed to be focused entirely on a section of the store on the opposite side of the aisle because they never saw him coming. His shotgun fired twice and then the department store fell silent. Grimly, he took a step back to avoid the pool of blood only to get the shock of his life.

A huge blonde man with blood coursing from a cut along his brow appeared from behind one of the shelves on the opposite side of the aisle. He had a shotgun trained on Sazh's chest and there was a look of desperate fury on his face.

"Where's Serah?" the blonde man bellowed. His eyes were wild and all the muscles along his neck and jaw seemed clenched almost to the point of pain. "Tell me, where is she?"

Sazh swallowed thickly but held his ground. Under normal circumstances, he'd never have picked a fight with someone this large and this angry. "I'm guessing you're Snow. You don't have to worry about her, she's fine."

The big man, Snow, wanted none of it. He stomped forward. "Fine? She didn't sound fine to me. I heard her screaming!" He shook his head. "I don't want to kill anyone else but if you don't tell me –"

"Stop, Snow, it's okay!" the pink haired woman, Serah, cried as she ran out from behind the shelf and threw her arms around Snow. "It's okay. He's not with them. He… he saved me."

It was almost uncanny how quickly Snow's anger seemed to drain out of him. In fact, as a wave of tenderness swept through the larger man, Sazh could scarcely believe that Snow had ever been angry at all. Quickly, Snow put his shotgun aside and swept Serah up into his arms, lifting her clear off her feet as the pair exchanged a few hushed whispers and frantic kisses.

"When… when they took you away, I was so worried." Snow buried his face in Serah's hair. "The way they looked at you…" He put her back onto her feet and something close to a sob worked its way out his throat as he took in the bruise on her cheek and her tattered clothes. "Did… did they…?" He trailed off, seemingly unable to force the horrible words out.

Serah shuddered and pressed herself against Snow. "No… I… they were going to, but I got free and I ran and then they came after me." She dragged in a deep breath and looked back at Sazh. "But then I ran into him. They… they wanted him to give me back to them, but he said no. He was even going to fight them and then you came." She sniffled miserably. "Oh, Snow…"

Sazh did his best to ignore the ache in his chest as he watched the young couple. Maker, there was a part of him that envied them. There was a little tug on his sleeve.

"Did we do a good thing, daddy?" Dajh asked as he watched Serah and Snow. In his jacket pocket, the chocobo had shifted so that its head poked out. It too watched the couple. "Daddy?"

"I think so," Sazh murmured. He raised his voice. "If you two don't mind, I'd like to know what exactly my son and I walked into."

Snow eased away from Serah. Now that the anger was gone from him, his blue eyes seemed warm and friendly. "That seems fair." He walked toward Sazh and extended one powerful hand. "But I think I should introduce myself. I'm Snow Villiers."

Sazh shook his hand. "Sazh Katzroy." He tilted his head at Dajh. "He's my son, Dajh, and that chocobo sticking its head out of his jacket is Chirpy."

"You've got a chocobo?" Snow shook his head slowly and chuckled. "Anyway, it's nice to meet you three." He glanced back at Serah who gave them all a shaky smile. "That's Serah." He made a face, some of the old anger returning. "As for what's going on, there's a man upstairs who can tell us."

Sazh paused. They'd already gotten into enough trouble, but he could hardly back out now. "Fine, show the way." He tapped his shotgun with one hand. "But you should know that I'll be keeping a close eye on everything."

Snow's eyes widened for a moment and then he nodded. "I can't say I blame you." He turned. "Come on, we can talk as we go too."

As they headed toward the escalators, Snow talked. "Serah and I… we've been wandering around for a while now, just moving from place to place, trying to keep away from the Infected. We thought we could get some supplies here, but when we ran into those guys, they jumped us. One of them hit me over the back of the head and the next thing I know, they've got a gun on me. That's when they took Serah away." His jaw clenched. "When she started screaming, the man watching me got distracted, so I was able to knock him out and take his gun. Everything else… well, you were there."

Sazh pulled Dajh a little closer. He was still nervous, and that meant he wanted Dajh as close to him as possible in case something bad happened. "What happened to Serah… has that happened before?"

Snow stopped so suddenly that Sazh nearly ran into him. "Unfortunately, yes. There are a lot of men who seem to think that they can take whatever they want with things the way they are. But today was the worst it's ever been. Normally, just seeing me is enough to scare them off." He turned to look over his shoulder at Sazh. "You've never seen anything like that?"

Sazh shook his head. "No. Dajh and I got away from the towns and cities as quickly as we could. By the time we started going back for supplies everyone was already dead." He took a look at Serah and winced. His question hadn't been the best one to ask. "Anyway, where are you two from?"

Serah answered this time, giving him a small smile at his very obvious attempt to change the subject matter to something less horrible. "We're from Eden City, well, sort of. I was at university there, but I'm from Bodhum really."

"Eden City, huh?" Sazh sighed. "I'm guessing it's like everywhere else."

"Yes." Serah gulped. "We were lucky to get out. A lot of people didn't. Since then, we've just been moving around, trying to keep alive."

"That's all anyone can do these days," Sazh murmured. "You two and those men back there are the first actual people we've seen in quite a while."

It didn't take them long to get up onto the next floor and Snow showed them to where a man was slumped unconscious across one of the department's stores shelves. Snow gave the man a glare and then reached over to slap him across the face. The man's eyes opened and he took one look at Snow before struggling, but Snow simply lifted him up off his feet and then slammed him back into the shelf. Hard.

"You're going to tell me everything," Snow growled. "Who are you? Why were you here? Everything." He looked back at Serah. "And don't waste your breath calling for your friends. After what they tried to do, they got what they deserved. Now, answer my questions, or you'll be joining them."

Sazh glanced at Dajh. The boy looked like he was going to be sick. Killing Infected was one thing. Watching two people turn on each other was something very different. Sazh knelt and gave him a hug. "It's okay, son. Now, how about you turn around and keep an eye out in case there's any more trouble, okay? You and Chirpy can do that, right?"

Sazh turned his eyes back to the man Snow had pinned against the shelf. He'd already begun to blurt his story out, almost too quickly to make sense of. Frankly, Sazh didn't blame him. Snow was huge and he was clearly not happy. Apparently, there had been some people here before, people who'd managed to hole up inside the mall and keep the Infected at bay. There had been a disagreement and the man and his friends had decided to go somewhere else, only to find found out that there wasn't anywhere else to go. They'd decided to go back and it was bad luck, plain and simple, that had led to their paths crossing with Serah and Snow. And it had been even worse luck for their paths to cross with Sazh.

By the time the man was finished speaking, Snow could hardly contain himself. "Don't you get it? There are thousands of Infected out there for every one of us. We shouldn't be turning on each other like this, we should trying to help each other."

The man laughed bitterly. "You're the one who doesn't get it. The world is over. The people holed up here knew how to fight and they had everything planned. They still died. The only thing we can do now is to try and have a little fun before the Infected get us." He leered at Serah. "But I'm sure you know all about that."

Snow growled and hurled a punch at the man, but that was exactly what the man had been waiting for. He shifted to the side just enough to make the punch go wide and then lunged for the shotgun that Snow had left on a nearby counter. He never got to it. Even as the man's hands closed around the shotgun, Sazh fired his own.

"Thanks," Snow murmured. "It looks like we owe you again."

"Don't make a habit of it." Sazh looked at the body once more in disgust. "My son and I are going to finish getting our supplies and then we're going to go. I suggest you two do the same. All this shooting is bound to draw more Infected, and we don't know if those men were alone – that man could have been lying."

"Wait!" Snow said. "Slow down. It's been weeks since we've seen anyone else." He shared a look with Serah. "And maybe… maybe we could all travel together?"

Sazh stopped in his tracks. That was a big, big thing to ask. He didn't know these people. They seemed nice enough, but he had no way of being sure that he could trust them. Still, the offer was tempting. He and Dajh would have a better chance if they could become part of a group. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Snow picked up the shotgun, wincing a little at the blood on it. "How about I give this to you right now?"

"Are you crazy?" Sazh asked. "What's to stop me from turning around and shooting you once you don't have a gun?"

"The fact that you're a decent man." Snow paused. "You didn't have to help Serah earlier, and you definitely didn't have to help me just a second ago."

"And look at who you're travelling with," Serah said softly, her voice kind and filled with gentle warmth. "Dajh is your son, isn't he? You've looked after him all this time, and you've even gotten him a pet." She closed her eyes. "Back in Eden City… we saw a lot of things, Sazh. There were people abandoning their kids just to try and get out themselves. But you, you've kept Dajh safe all this time. Maybe I can't know for sure that you're a good man, but I'm willing to bet you are."

Sazh shook his head. Maybe he was starting to go a little crazy, or maybe it was the raw honesty he heard in both Snow and Serah's voices… "Fine. I suppose we could all travel together for a while." His gaze hardened. "But my son comes first, and if I ever think that you are endangering him, I'll kill you myself."

Snow nodded. "I understand. That's exactly how I feel about Serah."

"Good." Sazh turned. "Have you two got a car?"

"In the parking lot behind the mall."

"Bring it around to the front, that's where Dajh and I are." He sighed. "We've still got some clothes to pick out."

X X X

It took another half an hour for Sazh and Dajh to finish finding clothes. In the end, he was forced to dig through the storeroom of the department store to find a good pair of boots, but it was worth it. He'd had to run for his life enough times to know that good footwear could mean the difference between life and death. Besides, it would just be too pathetic if, after all he and Dajh had been through, he died because of a broken shoe. When they got back to their four-wheel drive, Serah and Snow were already there in a battered sedan.

"So, where are you two going from here?" Snow asked.

Sazh pursed his lips. "Somewhere I can get some rest. This day has been a little too exciting for my liking." He looked at Dajh and then nodded slowly. The boy deserved a treat for getting through everything today so bravely. "There's a cabin around here. It's pretty isolated, so it should be okay for us to stay there tonight."

The cabin in question was the same one he'd rented with Lahna for a fortnight. He shook his head. It seemed like an eternity ago. Still, provided that there weren't Infected all over it, the cabin would be a good place to get some rest. It was right up against the water, but about a ten minuted drive from anything else.

To his immense relief, the cabin seemed to be deserted and a quick check of the surroundings didn't turn up any Infected. Given a few days, some were bound to turn up, but for the time being it seemed safe.

"Daddy, look!" Dajh shouted as he pointed to some sand next to the pier at the back of the cabin. "Can I go play over there?"

Sazh nodded. "Only over there, okay. And if you see or hear anything that might be dangerous, you come right back here." He sat on a rock beside the pier.

"Come on, Chirpy," Dajh said as he ran toward the sand. "There's water here, so we can build a sand castle. It'll be really fun."

"Would you mind if I played too?" Serah asked.

Dajh stopped in mid-step and looked back at Serah with wide eyes. "You mean it?" At his feet, Chirpy seemed similarly curious. "You want to play too?"

"Sure." Serah grinned. "I grew up right near the beach in Bodhum, so I know a lot about making sand castles. I can teach you."

Dajh nodded happily. "Sure." He gave Chirpy a big grin. "Did you hear that, Chirpy? Serah is going to teach us about sand castles."

Snow settled onto the rock beside Sazh as Serah and Dajh got to work on their first sand castle. The activity seemed to soothe the pink haired woman, and Dajh was more than happy to have her help, especially when their sand castle began to take on quite impressive proportions.

"So," Snow asked, a shotgun draped across his lap. "What's your story?" He reached into his pocket and offered Sazh a muesli bar. "Try this, it's a bit dry, but it's not bad."

Sazh opened the wrapper and took a bite of the muesli bar. Snow was right, it was dry, but the taste of honey mixed with almonds was almost too good to be true. "How about you go first? You didn't really say too much back at the department store."

"Still don't trust us that much, huh?" Snow shrugged. "I can't say I blame you. When you've got someone to look after, you have to be careful." His eyes wandered over to Serah. "I was a campus security guard at Eden City University." He chuckled softly. "Not the best job, I know, but I was saving up money and trying to get into some night classes there. I wanted to be a policeman, they wouldn't take me until I got some classes out of the way." He smiled wistfully. "That's where I met Serah. She was studying to be a teacher, but she ended up having to schedule a few of her classes at night. There were some real creeps around, so I ended up walking her back to her dormitory a few times. We kind of hit it off and well, a few months later we started going out." He gave Sazh a sombre look. "I know I'm not exactly the best catch, but I love her, and when everything went bad… we stuck together."

Sazh chuckled softly. "I know how you feel. I never thought I was good enough for my wife. It was a good thing she thought differently. Still, my story isn't much. When things got bad, I just grabbed my son and ran. We've been running ever since."

X X X

Dinner that night was some of the canned spaghetti that they'd salvaged from the supermarket. It was also the first dinner in a long, long time that Sazh could remember sharing with anyone except for Dajh. Sazh didn't say much, but he watched very closely. Snow and Serah seemed to be genuinely friendly people, and they didn't seem to mind talking to Dajh at all. If anything, they seemed to enjoy talking to the boy, and Serah in particular seemed to have taken a shine to Dajh and Chirpy.

After dinner, when Dajh was asleep on a couch in the living room with Chirpy perched on a nest of blankets beside him, Sazh occupied himself with checking all of his weapons.

"Do you do this every night?" Serah asked softly as she sat down beside him and began to strip down a pistol.

"Not every night, but whenever I have the chance." Sazh's eyes widened slightly as he took in just how quickly Serah had the gun apart, cleaned, and then back together again. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

Serah flushed. "My sister…" she took a deep breath. "My sister was a member of the Guardian Corps. She was the one who taught me how to look after myself. If it wasn't for what she taught me then those men…" She shook her head and chose, very deliberately, to change the subject matter. "Dajh seems like a very good boy."

"He is." Sazh looked over at his son. "He takes after his mother more than me though."

"Where are you and Dajh planning on going?" Serah asked.

"I don't know," Sazh replied. He'd spent more than a few nights wondering that same thing. "Anywhere that's safe."

Serah nodded slowly. "The thing is… Snow and I… we think there's a place that might be safe." Sazh stiffened immediately and she pressed on. "I can't make any promises, it's just a thought... but I'm from Bodhum. There's an island off the coast there, a few miles out of the harbour. There's a lighthouse on it, a weather station, and an oceanographic research centre. If we can get there we might be safe."

Sazh turned to pin her with his gaze. "What makes you say that? What makes you think that anywhere is safe?"

"Well, we've never seen the Infected swim," Serah murmured. "And we know they can't sail a boat or anything like that. They wouldn't be able to get onto the island."

"And what about the Infected already on it?" Sazh asked. As far as he knew, the Infected were everywhere. They might not be able to get onto the island, but the Infection probably had, which meant that every person who'd been on that island was probably one of the Infected now – either that, or dead.

"We could kill them," Snow said as he handed Serah a bottle of water and sat down beside her. "Then we'd be safe."

"That's crazy," Sazh shook his head. "How many people were on that island?"

"I don't know exactly how many people," Serah said. "But you're right, there probably were a lot of them on the island. Tourists always did love to go there."

"But with you helping us maybe we'd be able to clear them off," Snow said. "There are three of us here who can fight."

"You're crazy," Sazh said. "You're both crazy."

"Maybe, but aren't you tired of running?" Serah took one of Snow's hands in hers. "We're both tired, Sazh. The Infected are everywhere here, and no matter how many we kill, they'll just come from somewhere else. And the people… you saw what happened today."

Sazh's eyes drifted back to Dajh. He was tired, tired of fighting, tired of wondering if today would be the day that he messed up and got him and Dajh killed. What Serah and Snow wanted to do was crazy, a long shot, but then again the world was crazy, and a long shot was better than no shot at all. "I guess I am a little tired of running." He stood. "I won't make any promises, but we might as well head toward Bodhum. I'll make my mind up then."

"Thank you," Serah whispered. She smiled. "How about you get some sleep. I can take first watch."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

Wow… a much shorter wait this time around. In all honesty though, I had hoped to get this up last week, but a sprained wrist and some impromptu home plumbing work put a stop to that. Anyway, I guess the big thing in this chapter is that Serah is alive and that she has been travelling with Snow. Oh, and Chirpy is there too. As an aside, I don't know if Sazh's wife ever has her name listed. Because of that, I just made up a name for her. Lahna was also the name I used for Sazh's wife in Stetsons and Fal'Cie.

One of the sad things about crises is that they tend to bring out the best and the worst in people. For every hero, there is a villain. For every person trying to save others and do the right thing, there are others who are concerned only about themselves and will do whatever they want to whomever they want simply because there is no one around to stop them. It should be clear from this chapter what sort of person Sazh is.

The last thing that I want to talk about now is their destination. Those of you who read the previous chapter should realise what this means. Lightning and Vanille are headed for Bodhum, and so are Sazh, Dajh, Serah, Snow, and Chirpy (of course I have to include the chocobo). The question is, will they all get there, and if so, under what circumstances? And for those of you wondering about Hope and Nora, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about them. Also, I think that this is the longest chapter of Wasteland to date. Finally, if you are waiting for updates on other stories (e.g., Whispers of the Gods, Ordinary Heroes, etc.) rest assured that I am working on those.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Nora's hands tightened on the steering wheel as she caught sight of the obstruction on the road ahead. She and Hope were headed toward one of the more remote towns. From what she could tell, things had been worst in the cities and larger towns. Perhaps in somewhere more remote, things would be better. And even if they didn't find somewhere entirely safe, they could probably still find some supplies. Most of the towns they'd passed through lately had already been stripped bare.

But blocking the narrow road up ahead of them was a car. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but this car wasn't abandoned. The hood had been popped open and next two it were two people. For a moment, she considered simply flooring the accelerator and trying to push through, but then the people began to wave and yell. Clearly, they weren't Infected, which meant that she and Hope had a very big decision to make.

"Are we going to stop, mom?" Hope asked. She could see the worry in his eyes, and reached out to squeeze his shoulder with one hand. The last person they'd met had been Fang, and the other woman had warned them very clearly about the dangers posed by other people. Honestly, as if the Infected weren't bad enough.

"I don't know." Nora slowed the car a little to give them more time to think. They had no way of knowing if those two people were good or not, but at the same time, she couldn't quite bring herself to turn the car around and drive away. What if they really were good people? And what sort of person would she be if she left them out there to die, because it wouldn't be long before some Infected found them? "What do you think?"

Hope frowned. "I… I guess we can't really be too sure about them. If they're bad, then we could really get into trouble, but if they're good…" He pursed his lips. "We'd be able to travel together. It might even be safer that way."

Nora nodded and bit her lip. "All right. We'll stop. But I want you to have your gun out and ready. If they try anything, Hope, then we need to just treat them like they're Infected." She might be willing to stop, but she was not going to take any unnecessary chances beyond that.

"You mean… shot them?" Hope swallowed thickly. "That's what you mean, right, mom?"

Nora sighed. "Yes, that's what I mean. But let's hope it doesn't come to that. They might be good, like Fang was. Maybe they just need some gas. Whatever happens, stay alert and if you're not sure, then shoot first and ask questions later." She eased her foot off the accelerator. "Understand?"

She stopped the car about ten yards away from the two people. It was a good distance, enough that if they tried anything, she and Hope would have enough time to get back in the car and go. Ten yards was also close enough for her to get a good look at the two people. One of them was a woman with long blonde hair and glasses, while the other one was a sharp looking man with silver hair. Both of them wore Sanctum Security uniforms, and both looked to have seen better days, if the battered state of their uniforms were anything to go by.

"Thank the Maker you stopped," the woman said warmly. She reached up to adjust her glasses and gave a great sigh of relief. "We were beginning to think that we'd be stuck out here. It's been a while since we've seen anyone else and there are Infected everywhere."

Nora glanced at Hope for a moment to make sure he had his gun out and ready, and then looked back at the woman. Behind the glasses, the woman's eyes seemed warm and friendly, and there was a mix of tiredness and belief in her voice. Nora relaxed a fraction, but kept her shotgun trained on the other woman's chest. "What's the problem?"

The other woman glanced at the shotgun and then shrugged. "It's something with the engine. We had some trouble back in the last town we were driving through and we had to make a run for it." She grimaced. "You must know how the Infected can get. We ended up almost crashing a few times, and we must have damaged it during one of those."

"I see." Nora frowned. A damaged engine complicated things. She didn't know the first thing about how to fix an engine, and if the two people did, they'd have done it by now. It was one thing to maybe offer them some fuel, but if they asked for a lift, could she really give them one?

"Look," the woman said, putting both hands up in a placating gesture. "I get it. We're strangers and you don't know if we're safe or not. That's fine. I'd be worried too." She glanced at the man beside her. "My name is Jihl Nabaat, and he's Yaag Rosch. We are – or rather we were – with Sanctum Security. We were manning the blockades a few miles out of Eden City, but then things went bad." She gestured at the car. "We've got plenty of food and water in the car and we'd be happy to share it with you if you could at least give us a lift to the next town. We'd be able to find another car there, and if you want, then we could all go our separate ways from there." She smiled. "We shouldn't be fighting amongst ourselves at a time like this."

Yaag nodded. "That's right. These are dangerous times, and the only way we'll make it out alive is if we all pull together." He shrugged. "If you want, we could even turn over our weapons until we go our separate ways."

Nora paused for a moment to think their offer over. It was a reasonable one, and she and Hope could definitely use some more food. They still had some of the food that Fang had given them, but it wouldn't be too much longer before that ran out. Besides, if Jihl and Yaag were willing to disarm, then it would be much harder for them to try anything. They were Sanctum Security too, so that probably counted for something. Slowly, she lowered her shotgun.

"All right," she said. "I suppose we could give you a ride to the next town."

Jihl smiled. "Thanks so much. It's good to know there are still some decent people around." She tilted her head at the car. "How about you come and give us a hand with our supplies? There's a lot there, and it'll be quicker this way – I really don't want to stay out here any longer than I have to."

Nora smiled back. "Neither do I." She glanced back at Hope. "My name is Nora, and my son over there is Hope."

Jihl led her over to the boot of the car and popped it open. "See," she said, "We've got more than enough to share with you."

Nora stared. The boot of the car was crammed full of canned and instant food. If she and Hope could get even a fraction of this from Jihl and Yaag, they'd be set for at least a fortnight, probably longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hope follow Yaag over to the front of the car. He was probably going to take a look at the engine, she thought. He wouldn't know how to fix it – Hope had always been interested more in computers than cars – but he would probably find it interesting to look at.

Nora took a closer look at the food, thinking over what she and Hope might want to ask for. "Jihl, we could definitely use…" she trailed off as she saw a flash of movement reflected in the shiny barrel of her shotgun.

She spun and ducked just in time to avoid a gunshot that ripped through the space her head had been in only a moment ago. The bullet tore through the rear window of the car in a shower of glass and she heard a scuffle break out between Hope and Yaag. Frantic with worry for her son, she tried to stand, but Jihl was there, a pistol levelled straight at her. The woman had taken off her glasses and the warmth that had been in her eyes was gone. Instead, there was nothing but cold, ruthless determination.

"I didn't think you'd see me." Jihl's gaze darkened. "But that doesn't matter. You won't dodge this one."

Eyes wide, Nora jerked one leg out. The kick caught Jihl in the ankles and the other woman went down, dropping her pistol. As Jihl tried to scramble to her feet, Nora brought her shotgun up and fired. Somehow, Jihl managed to roll out of the way and the blast tore a gouge in the road. Nora pumped a second shell into the barrel, but before she could fire, Jihl lunged right at her. They slammed into the car and the shotgun tumbled from Nora's grasp.

A punch caught Nora in the cheek and stars danced across her vision. Blindly, she clawed at Jihl's face and then shoved away from the car. They hit the ground and rolled, punching and kicking, but it was Nora who got the worst of it. Whatever else she had lied about, Jihl almost certainly hadn't lied about being Sanctum Security. Jihl landed an elbow across Nora's forehead and then slammed her head against the ground.

Nora cried out and struggled to stay conscious as pain rippled through her head. Her ears rang, and she lashed out blindly with a wild haymaker of a punch. The blow was awkward, but it caught Jihl on the side of the head with enough force to knock her off. Nora staggered to her feet as Jihl reached for a second pistol holstered at her side. She had just cleared the holster when Nora threw herself forward. Nora grabbed Jihl's wrist and banged it against the ground. Jihl grunted with pain and thrust one elbow up into Nora's chin to try to knock her off, but Nora was frantic, banging Jihl's hand against the ground until finally the pistol clattered loose.

"Get off!" Jihl growled, as she finally managed to wedge one leg up between her and Nora and kick the other woman off. Nora hit the ground with a thump and Jihl scrambled after the pistol.

At the same time, however, Hope sailed over the hood of the car. A bruise was already forming on his cheek, but as he came to a stop on the ground, he caught sight of Jihl's pistol and dove after it. Jihl tried to do the same, but Nora had found her feet again, and she grabbed Jihl by the ankle. Jihl turned and landed first one kick, and then a second kick to Nora's head, but Nora refused to let go. Jihl gathered herself for another kick, but there was a bang and suddenly she was knocked back as a wave of pain rippled through her shoulder.

"Mom!" Hope screamed, "Come on!"

Nora fought a wave of dizziness and glanced over at Jihl. Blood was pouring from her shoulder – she'd been shot. Then her eyes went to Hope and to the gun that he held. He'd shot Jihl… her son had just shot someone.

"Come on!" Hope yelled as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to her feet. "We need to go!"

She heard the desperation in his voice and staggered with him toward their car. He looked back and suddenly he was shooting again, wildly. She turned and saw Yaag huddled behind the other car, his own gun poking out over the hood as he tried to fire back. A bullet shot past them, and then another, before one of the windows of their car shattered.

"The shotgun," she muttered, "We left the shotgun…"

Hope shook his head. "We need to go, mom." He fired back, his shots going wide of Yaag, but doing enough to keep him down as Jihl crawled for cover. "We've got another in the car. Come on!"

Head clearing a little, Nora nodded. Of course, what they needed to do right now was get away. She tumbled into the driver's seat and waited just long enough for Hope to get in before she floored the accelerator. The car jerked forward and she saw Jihl and Yaag jump clear before they rammed right into the other car. Metal screeched, and Nora jerked forward as their car shoved past.

Then they were pulling free, the car picking up speed as it hit the open road. In the rear view mirror, she saw Yaag get to his feet and fire a final, desperate salvo at them. The windshield shattered in three places before it simply came apart and then she felt a white-hot burst of pain from her mid-section. Eyes wide with disbelief, she glanced down to see a vivid splash of red spreading quickly across the side of her shirt.

"Mom!" Hope screamed.

Nora clenched her jaw against the pain. "Don't worry." She groaned. Sweet Maker, she thought, there was so much blood. "I'll be fine, we need to get farther away."

She managed to go for another ten minutes before her hands were no longer strong enough to stay on the steering wheel. She hit the brakes and the car skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. Dumbly, she fumbled at her side, but her hands refused to do what she wanted, and they were so very, very wet with her own blood.

"Hope…" She glanced up at her son. The horror was clear on his face and she tried to reach out to reassure him, but her hands wouldn't move. "Hope… I…" Her vision started to darken. "I… I…"

X X X

Hope watched his mother slump forward and struggled just to breathe. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. They'd only been trying to do the right thing, and even after what Jihl and Yaag had done, they'd still managed to get away. It wasn't fair. They should have been fine after they'd got back to their car, Yaag shouldn't have been able to shoot her. What was he supposed to do now? Nothing made sense any more, nothing except his mother and now she was bleeding and she going to die and he'd be alone and the Infected would get him and –

Stop.

He forced himself to just breathe. In. Out. In. Out. His mother wasn't dead, not yet. Her breathing was shallow, but it was there, and that meant he could still save her, but first he needed to calm down. He'd taken first aid courses – everyone at school had – so he just needed to try and remember what to do. They hadn't taught him what to do if someone got shot, but there had to be something he'd learned that could work.

The bleeding…

Of course, the first thing he had to do was stop the bleeding. With trembling hands, he tugged at his mother's shirt. It was sticky with blood, and he felt bile burn at the back of his throat. No. He absolutely could not afford to throw up now. Swallowing thickly, he tugged harder, until her shirt finally loosened.

This time the urge to retch was almost overwhelming. Blood flowed from a wound in her side. There only seemed to be one hole, so the bullet was probably still in there. He gagged. How was he supposed to get a bullet out of her? He shook his head. No. Worry about that later. First, he had to stop the bleeding. He needed to get something to put over the wound, but what?

Bandages – they'd picked some up a few weeks ago. He threw open his car door and dove into the backseat. Come on, he thought, he'd seen them there yesterday. They had to be there. A few seconds passed before he found them, but they felt like hours. He tore the packaging off and nearly dropped the bandages in his haste. Flailing wildly, he managed to catch them before they fell and then he ran back to his mother.

He folded the bandages up and pressed them against the wound. She gave a low moan and thrashed, but her struggles were frighteningly weak. The bandages soaked through almost at once and he gave a desperate cry. Dear maker, the blood – he had his own mother's blood all over his hands. Heart in his throat, he stumbled back to the backseat and grabbed every packet of bandages he could find. He went through at least three before the flow of blood finally began to slow. Pulling open the glove box, he grabbed some tap and used it to stick a fresh roll of bandages over the wound.

His mother was pale now, and trembling, and he just knew they couldn't stay out here much longer. The scent of blood filled the car and it wouldn't be long before any Infected in the area picked up on it. Jihl and Yaag might even catch up to them. He needed to get her somewhere safe, but where? They had been headed for a town, a small village really, but it was still another half hour away. His mother had shown him how to drive in case something ever happened to her, but he'd never driven that far before. But what choice did he have? There might be a place in that town where they could hide. He had to at least try.

As gently as he could, he eased his mother into the passenger seat and got into the driver's seat. He felt a fresh wave of nausea sweep over him as he felt the blood there soak into his clothes. Focus, he thought. Hands on the steering wheel, foot on the accelerator. Do not crash.

What should have taken half an hour turned into the longest forty-five minutes of his life. His mother had gone even paler, but sweat had broken out across her brow. Shivers wracked her body, and he tore his jacket off and draped it over her. Shock, she had gone into shock, so he had to keep her warm.

He reached the outskirts of town and looked frantically for somewhere, anywhere that might offer refuge. There didn't seem to be any Infected, but he couldn't be sure. The town was very small, little more than a village, really, so maybe the Infected had already moved on. He hoped they had. He glanced out the window and saw a sign 'Doctor's Surgery'. The car screeched to a halt and he grabbed the shotgun out of the backseat of the car. He ran up the steps to the doctor's surgery and tried the door. It was locked. Yelling, he threw himself against the door once, twice, and finally a third time before it broke open. Inside, it was empty, and he hurried back to the car.

"You have to help me, mom," he said as he threw one of his mother's arms over his shoulders. "I can't carry you, so you have to try to walk. Please, mom, please."

She was barely conscious, but she seemed to understand what he was saying as she staggered away from the car, her weight firmly on him. He groaned as he struggled to support her weight and then guided her through the foyer and into the doctor's surgery itself. There was a bed there, and he helped her up onto it.

"It'll be okay, mom," Hope said as he ripped out cabinets and scoured the shelves for something, anything that he could use. Almost everything had been stripped bare, but he found more bandages and several bottles of disinfectant. He stripped away the bandage he'd taped onto her side, horrified at how utterly red it was, and then began to pour disinfectant onto the wound. She kicked and thrashed, but he held her still. He didn't know much, but he knew the wound needed to cleaned.

"Stop it, mom, please!" he sobbed. "You're going to make it worse. Please, you have to lie down!" She went limp and he pressed more bandages to the wound before he used a second roll of bandages to tie them in place. "I'm sorry, mom," he said as he fell to his knees by the bed and pressed his face into the cold, hard metal frame. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have stopped. It was stupid. Just… just, please, please don't die. Don't… don't leave me alone."

He banged his head against the frame. What he supposed to do now? He didn't know anything about how to treat people who'd been shot. Why did it have to turn out like this? On the table, he saw his mother's hand twitch, and with nothing else to do, he wrapped his fingers around her hand. "Please, mom, please."

He fell asleep like that, clutching at his mother's trembling hand as the bandages he'd put in place slowly turned from white to red.

He awakened some time later as the door to the doctor's surgery crashed open. He jerked to his feet and pointed the shotgun at the door. It was dark, so night must have fallen.

"Don't come any closer!" he shouted. "I swear I'll kill you if you come any closer! Just leave us alone!"

There was a flash of light and suddenly he was blinded as a flashlight was shone directly into his eyes. He fired the shotgun toward the source of the light and there was a muttered curse before someone grabbed the gun from his hands and tossed him into the wall.

"Stop it!" a woman shouted. "Damn it, Gadot, stop!"

Hope scrambled to his feet and put one hand up to shield his eyes from the light. "Go away, leave us alone!"

The flashlight went out and then someone turned on a lamp and set it down on one of the shelves. When Hope's eyes adjusted to light, he found himself staring up into the eyes of a tall, powerfully built man. He had fiery hair and thick cords of muscles were clearly visible through his slightly ragged clothing. Beside him, with her hand on his chest to hold him back, was a woman with black hair. Had things been different, Hope might have stared for the woman had a sultry sort of beauty to her. Right now though, his only concern was for his mother.

"Stop it, Gadot," the woman growled. "Can't you see he's scared?"

The big man, Gadot, growled back. "He almost blew our heads off, Lebreau."

"I know," Lebreau said. "Believe me, I know, but look at that." She pointed at Nora. "That's why."

Hope tensed as Gadot's eyes drifted over to his mother, but slowly, the anger seemed to drain out of the big man. Gadot shook his head and then relaxed. "You there, is she Infected?" He frowned and tapped the gun at his side. "If she is…"

"No!" Hope cried, throwing himself between them and his mother. "She's not Infected. She got shot. Some… some people shot her. We just stopped to see if they needed help but… but they were bad and they shot her and now she's dying and…"

Lebreau frowned at Gadot and then reached out toward Hope. He flinched away, but she took his chin gently in one hand and made him meet her gaze. "It's all right." Her voice was soft, gentle, warm. "It's okay. We're not here to hurt your or her." She looked back at Gadot and gestured for him to put his gun away. "I'm Lebreau and he's Gadot. Now, what's your name?"

Hope trembled. "Hope."

"All right, Hope," Lebreau said. "Tell us what happened. I promise we're not going to hurt you. If we wanted to do that, we'd have done it by now. We just want to know what happened."

"Okay…" He blinked back tears. "Okay."

By the time he was done explaining things, Gadot's face was drawn into terrible scowl.

"You ran into some real bastards. I hope the Infected get them." Gadot shook his head. "As if things aren't bad enough and now we've got people like that going around…"

Lebreau sighed. "Well, here's hoping they get what's coming to them." She glanced at Hope. "Can I take a look at your mother, Hope?"

His eyes widened. "Are… are you a doctor?"

She chuckled dryly. "A doctor? Sorry, but no. I used to own a bar. Let's just say things sometimes got out of hand." Her lips twitched. "And sometimes people got shot. I can't promise to work any miracles, but I can try."

Hope looked at her. "Why? Why are you helping me?"

Lebreau shrugged. "Why not? You and your mother must be tough to have lasted this long. I figure if she makes it, we can all stick together. That's how Gadot and I have lasted this far, by sticking together. We even picked up two strays along the way." She grinned. "In fact, this isn't all that different from how I met Gadot."

Gadot pulled up his shirt to reveal a scar along his stomach. "I used to work as a bouncer at her bar. When things went bad, I stuck it out on my own for a while. I managed to keep clear of the Infected but then I had a nasty run in with some bad people, just like you, Hope. I was hurt pretty badly, but Lebreau found me and patched me back up."

Hope nodded slowly. "Okay… but please, be careful. She's my mom and if I lose her…"

Lebreau smiled gently. "I'll do my best."

X X X

Nora groaned and opened her eyes. Pain jolted through her and she bit back a scream. She felt almost like she'd been cut in half. Hissing, she took a look around, but she couldn't recognise where she was. Eyes wide, she tried to sit up, but the pain was so bad she could barely move, and this time she wasn't able to stifle a cry of pain.

"Well, it's good to see that you're awake. I was starting to worry."

She turned her head slowly as a black haired woman moved to stand beside her. Too weak to do much else, she could only lie there as the other woman took her temperature and then took a closer look at her side. Nora's eyes widened. Her side… she and Hope had stopped and there had been a fight and then she'd gotten shot! Where was Hope?

"Easy," the woman said, seemingly reading her thoughts. "If you're looking for your son, he's right there." She pointed to a chair pushed up against one corner of the room. "He's a good kid, you know. It's been two days since we ran into you, and he's been by your side the whole time. We practically had to pry him off you just to get him to eat." She smiled. "I'm Lebreau, by the way."

"Lebreau?" Nora winced. "What's… what's going on?" Her voice was hoarse, and her throat felt absolutely dry.

Lebreau offered her a small drink of water and then began to explain. "Like I said, we ran into the two of you two days ago. You can imagine the surprise we got. We saw the doctor's surgery and thought we might try and look for supplies, but instead we ran into Hope." She chuckled. "He almost blew our head off before realising we weren't trying to do anything to hurt you." She sobered. "You got lucky though, really, really lucky. You've lost a lot of blood, but the bullet didn't puncture anything too vital." She fumbled around in her pockets and held up a mangled piece of metal. "Here's the bullet. You can keep it if you like."

"No thanks." Nora took another sip of water. "How… how long until I can move again?"

"I don't know exactly. Probably another few days." Lebrea shrugged. "It's not too bad here. There are a few Infected, and I'm sure more will head this way now that we're here, but for the time being we should be safe." She glanced over at Hope who had begun to stir. "I'll leave you two alone. Someone needs to make breakfast, and I don't need Gadot poisoning you after I've just finished patching you up."

Nora felt a smile slip across her face as Hope yawned and stretched. He was a growing boy, and sleeping in a chair couldn't have been comfortable. And then he saw her and his eyes lit up. He was by her side in a flash.

"Mom!" he yelled. "Mom, you're awake!"

Nora swallowed the lump in her throat as Hope pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder and cried. "It's okay, Hope. It's okay."

He pulled back and scrubbed at his cheeks. "I was so scared, mom. There was so much blood and I didn't know what to do and –"

"It's okay." She said firmly. "What matters is that I'm here now. I'm fine." She reached out slowly and put one arm around him. "I love you, Hope."

He smiled shakily. "I love you too, mom, so, so much."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I know. Now, tell me about Lebreau and this Gadot person. What sort of people are they?"

Hope nodded. "They… they seem like really good people, mom. They helped us even though they didn't have to, and they've been really nice to me so far." He paused. "There are two more people travelling with them that I haven't met yet, but, mom… when you get better, they said they'd like it if we travelled with them. I think… I think maybe we should."

Nora pursed her lips. She was still in a lot of pain, but the important thing was that she was still alive. "That sounds like it might be a good idea." She grinned. "That Lebreau seems nice, and it would be good to have some female company for a change. You're my son, and I love you, but you're not really one for girl talk."

Hope laughed. "Mom!"

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

I've been wanting to introduce Jihl for a while now, and when the opportunity arose to have her cast as a villain, I just couldn't resist. In case it wasn't clear, she and Yaag really did have engine trouble. Nora and Hope were just unlucky enough to show up at the wrong time. If things had gone to plan, Jihl and Yaag would have killed them and taken their car and supplies. As I write these author's notes, I find myself wondering what would have happened if Jihl and Yaag had run into Vanille and Lightning, or possibly Fang. Lightning would probably have put them in a box (i.e., in coffins, i.e., killed them) for what they tried, and Fang would probably do the same.

With Nora hurt and Hope freaking out (as most people would under those circumstances, I think) it also seemed like a good time to introduce NORA. Yes, I'm aware of the pun (Nora meeting NORA), but I did want to bring Lebreau and the others in. No prizes for guessing who the two strays that Lebreau and Gadot picked up are.

As a side note, I'm kind of glad that I didn't post this up last Sunday, what with it being Mother's Day and all…

Finally, I'm still chugging away on my other stories. I've got the next chapter of Ordinary Heroes sort of half done (I was actually working on it until the last chapter of Whispers of the Gods decided to slap me over the head), and the next chapter of Whispers of the Gods is also kicking around somewhere in my head. It helps that the last chapter featuring Vanille was kind of split in half. And on the subject of Whispers of the Gods, it's beginning to get a bit strange to write. When I started, I really only had an image of Lightning in her crystal armour in my head, but then I started tossing around ideas for an original story involving gods and demons and that sort of thing, and Whispers of the Gods kind of turned into a crossover between that original story (which I am working on) and Final Fantasy XIII. Sigh. Keeping the three different continuities straight in my head is beginning to take up a fair amount of brain space, to say nothing of keeping track of what's going on in some of my other stories too. Still, I have to say, having a lot of ideas is a much better problem to be having than having too few ideas.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

It started snowing a few days before Fang reached the outskirts of Eden City. By the time she reached the river that marked the edge of the city, the road was buried beneath a carpet of snow at least a foot thick. Her car was forced to move at little more than a crawl as it tried to shove its way through all the snow. It made her want to scream. Eden City was so, so close but it might as well have been on the moon because of all the snow. Its tall, broken skyline was right there at the edge of her vision, a craggy, ruined maze of black spires dappled in white.

Her hands clenched so tightly around the steering wheel that for a moment she was afraid she'd break it. Slowly, very slowly, she forced herself to calm down and think. The cold weather was bad, but Vanille wasn't stupid. Sure, the red head didn't have Fang's survival instincts, but Fang had taught Vanille everything she needed to get through a little snow. Still, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind wondering if she'd taught Vanille enough to deal with the Infected. After all, Fang had always looked out for the younger woman, had always watched over her and protected her. Had Fang's protectiveness left Vanille helpless? Had it… had it gotten the other woman killed? Viciously, Fang shoved the thought aside. Vanille was fine. She had to be. It was just a matter of getting to her and then the two of them could go find somewhere safe to wait things out.

Fang nodded to herself. Yes, she just had to get to Vanille and if the car couldn't get her the rest of the way, then she would just have to go the rest of the way on foot. It couldn't be too far – even Eden City couldn't be that big. In this weather it might take a few days, but if she was lucky, she might stumble across a truck or something that could handle all the snow.

But leaving the car behind would be risky. She had all of her supplies in the car, and there were too many to take with her. She'd just have to make do somehow. She'd bring only what she needed, enough to get her to Vanille and get the two of them back to the car. After that, everything would be okay.

Mind made up, she guided the car toward a ruined tourist spot. It was a tall building, but there was a covered space beside it where she could leave the car until she got back. She took a quick look around to make sure it was safe and then got out of the car. The wind was the first thing to hit her. It was harsh and biting, so bad that it felt like it was trying to rip the skin right off her face. Then the cold came. It clawed at her cheeks, her lips, her eyes, and she hurried to adjust her clothing.

She'd picked up a thick coat in one of the towns she'd passed through a few weeks ago. There had been a clothing store and after a bit of exploring, she'd found a locked storeroom at the back. There had been people piled up against the door, their bodies ripped to bits. They must have tried to get in, but the lock had held, and the Infected had done the rest. She had to blow the door open with her shotgun, but inside, she'd found a thick coat, some gloves, and even boots. It hadn't been all that cold yet, but her time as a ranger had taught her to always be prepared.

Pretty much all of the others clothes in the storeroom had been too big to fit Vanille, but eventually, Fang had managed to find a set of clothes that she thought would probably be all right. Of course, the coat, boots, and gloves were a rather garish shade of fluoro pink, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and at least she'd never lose sight of Vanille in all the snow. A grin crossed her lips. She could just see it now. Vanille would whine and complain and probably try and bully Fang into wearing them before finally giving in. She chuckled softly and then fell silent. Vanille in an all pink ensemble… the matron would have loved to see that. Except the matron was dead now, along with everyone else from Oerba.

Reaching into the boot of the car for a rag to help shield her face from the cold, Fang took stock of what she needed. Apart from the spare clothing for Vanille, she would need food, weapons, and gasoline. The gasoline would be hassle to carry around, but it would definitely come in handy if she found a better vehicle to carry her the rest of the way. It would also make it easier to start a fire, and she could use a fire to melt snow into water if she needed more.

After making sure that the car was as secure as she could make it, she loaded all of the things she needed into a large backpack and started the long slog toward Eden City. It didn't take more than a few minutes before her body began to ache. For weeks she had pushed herself, doing everything she could to make it to Eden City as quickly as possible. She was running on empty, or close to it, but she refused to slow down. Vanille was waiting for her, and if she had to trudge through some snow carrying a backpack that felt as heavy as she was, then that was what she'd do.

But that was easier said that done. The wind grew stronger as the day wore on and all the while, snow continued to fall. Soon the snow was past her knees and each step seemed to take an eternity as she struggled to wrench her legs out of the snow while keeping her balance. Even at her peak, it would have been hard going, but now, with her body sore, aching and exhausted, it wasn't long before her entire world narrowed down to the thundering of her heart, the howling of the wind, and the seemingly endless drifts of snow.

Her foot caught on something buried in the snow and she tripped. Her hands went out to catch her, but with so much snow, all she did was sink down into the white morass. For a split-second she contemplated staying there, letting the cold do its work and lull her into one final sleep. But just as quickly as it came, the thought passed. She'd begun to have dreams, dreams where she was too late to save Vanille. She refused to let those dreams become reality, and so she stumbled back onto her feet and kept on walking, one foot in front of the other, the snow piling up higher and higher around her.

Sometime later, she wasn't sure how long, since the constant howl of the wind and the never ending snow seemed to strip away all sense of time, she found her thoughts drifting back to the people she'd met at the gas station. Nora and Hope… they seemed decent enough so hopefully they'd heeded her warnings and kept clear of trouble. Still, Fang refused to believe what Nora said about Eden City and how bad it had been. There had been millions of people in Eden City and a place that big had to have places where people could hide, or, at the very least, hold out for a while. And if there were places like that, then she knew that Vanille would find them.

A tall, dark shadow loomed up ahead and Fang squinted through the biting wind. It was one of the bridges into Eden City. It was still at least another half an hour away, but she needed to stay alert. The wind would make it hard, if not impossible, to hear the Infected until they were right on top of her. Hopefully, the snow would also slow the Infected down, although she wasn't about to stake her life on that. The Infected had a habit of surprising her, and never in a pleasant sort of way.

However, despite her desire to stay alert, Fang found her mind slipping. Her thoughts went back to happier times, times when the world still made sense and the only thing she had to worry about was whether or not she would in trouble with the matron.

Back when she and Vanille had been little, the two of them had loved to play hide and seek. It was one of the few games where they were on relatively even footing because Fang had always been stronger and faster than Vanille. But the red head was an expert at hiding, and even Fang had trouble tracking her down when she really went out of her way to hide. They'd driven the matron crazy, especially when Vanille had snuck up into the attic of the orphanage. Vanille had wedged herself in amongst some old furniture and had fallen asleep, so she couldn't hear Fang shouting that it was time to end the game and go eat dinner. The matron had been frantic with worry and so had Fang right up until Vanille wandered down halfway through dinner. The matron had been relieved at first, then absolutely furious, and she had sent both of them up to their beds that night without any dinner at all. Naturally, they'd snuck down to the kitchen later to sneak some food out of the fridge, but they'd been much more careful about where they played in the future.

Suddenly the memory faded and the bridge was right there in front of her. Fang breathed a sigh of relief. Nora had mentioned something about the bridges getting raised or blown up, but someone must have come this way before since this bridge had been lowered into position. However, her relief gave way to unease as she studied the bridge more closely. Frost clung to all of the joints and a thick layer of snow covered the bridge, enough to all but swallow the rusted out skeletons of abandoned cars that littered the road. Gingerly, she began to walk across the bridge, but she had gone no more than a few steps before the whole structure gave a low, horrible groan.

Fang froze. Bridges like this one needed regular maintenance, but it had to have been months since anyone had looked at it. Add to that the sheer amount of ice and snow on it, and it was little wonder that the whole thing was a bit shaky. She dragged in a deep breath, the air so cold, she could barely think. The bridge probably didn't have too much longer, but she couldn't turn back. The next bridge wasn't for miles. She would just have to tread as lightly as she could and hope for the best.

Cars were scattered across the bridge, but there was a rough path through them that looked as though someone had forced a vehicle across the bridge. She followed the path, listening as keenly as she could to the bridge beneath her. Each step she took was accompanied by a low groan, and as the wind kicked up again, the bridge began to tremble until a third of the way across, she heard something crack. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked around. Nothing around her had moved, which meant that the crack must have come from beneath her, from the great metal girders that supported the bridge.

The bridge shook and Fang felt a chill run through her as another crack echoed out followed by a long, drawn out shriek. The sound grated on her ears, harsh, and cutting, and with it came a deep rumble as the bridge dropped almost half a foot beneath her. She scrambled to keep her footing, pawing at the snow around her for something to hold onto. The bridge, she realised, the bridge was set on hinges and raised or lowered by enormous counterweights. If something had damaged the hinges or the counterweights, there was no telling what could happen. She needed to get to the other side of the bridge right now before things got any worse than they already were.

But even as she began to shamble toward the other side of the bridge, something else gave way. Another piercing metallic shriek filled the air, and she saw a great, mangled length of steel fly out from under the bridge. The bridge began to tilt to the side and she had to grab hold of a nearby car to stay standing.

Ahead of her, she could see the midpoint of the bridge, the place where the two halves met when the bridge was lowered. The half of the bridge that she was on had dropped more than two feet and had begun to tilt to the side. A few minutes more and it would probably collapse. With a growl, she summoned all the strength she had, and ploughed through the snow in front of her. She dragged herself up onto the hood of a car near the split in the bridge and paused. There was no way she could make the jump with her backpack on. Arms screaming with the effort, she wrenched her backpack off and hurled it up onto the other side of the bridge.

The bridge jerked again, dropping another foot, and suddenly Fang found herself staring at the edge of the other half of the bridge, a good three feet above her. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She was so damn close, but a jump of three feet in bulky clothing in the freezing cold while she was all but exhausted was asking for more than she had.

"Not like this," she murmured as an image of Vanille flashed through her mind. "Not like this."

Never mind how impossible it was, she would make it possible. With a high, thin wail, she gathered herself and leapt upward. For one moment, a moment that seemed to last a lifetime, she hung in the air, the bridge falling away beneath her as it tilted wildly to the side and smashed into the river below. She stretched her arms up as high as they would go, clawing, reaching, grabbing for the other side of the bridge. Her fingers touched concrete and she found herself hanging in midair, her hands scrabbling over the slick, icy surface of the bridge.

Wildly, she clawed for something, anything, that could keep her from losing her hold, but she could find nothing. The surface of the bridge was smooth, a perfect blend of ice and concrete. And then her hands closed on something. Pain ripped through her and she screamed as her right hand closed around a jagged bit of protruding metal. Her instincts screamed for her to let go, to get as far away as she could from the metal that was slicing through her glove and into her palm, but instead she forced herself to bear the pain, to close her hand around the metal and pull.

With a final, ragged scream, she yanked herself up onto the other side of the bridge beside her backpack. For a long time, all she could do was lie there, her eyes turned toward the dark, turbulent clouds as the snow pelted down on her. Finally, she found the strength to stand, and she dragged her hand up to her face to examine the damage. The metal had cut right through the glove and into her palm. The ice and snow had done a lot to numb the injury, but she could tell it was bad. In a couple of weeks, it might be okay, but for now, she could barely make a fist.

Hissing at the pain, she forced her hand open and wiped the wound clean with some snow. Blood poured from the gash and she glanced around. The smell of the blood would draw the Infected so she needed to get the wound bandaged and covered as quickly as possible. Grimly, she grit her teeth and wrapped the wound in bandages before she forced her hand into a spare glove that she'd brought. The pain was enough to make her scream, but she needed to keep her hand covered, not only to try and minimise the amount of blood she left behind, but also to keep the hand from freezing in the cold.

Right hand held protectively up to her chest, she shrugged her backpack on and headed deeper into the city. Nightfall would not be far and she needed to find shelter. She might not have seen any Infected yet, but they had to be out there, and sleeping out in the open would leave her far too exposed to both the Infected and the elements.

X X X

Fang walked until the fading light forced her to find shelter. It was strange, but in a way, the snow that had plagued her had actually done Eden City a favour. In the days leading up to her arrival at the outskirts of the city, she'd seen great plumes of smoke rising from all over the city. But those plumes were gone now, the fires that birthed them quenched at last by several feet of snow.

But right now, she had other things to worry about. She was at the edge of the Eden City Botanical Gardens and most of the buildings around her were in no shape to provide shelter. Many had been destroyed by fire, and those that had survived had been done in by the snow, their roofs unable to take all of the excess weight.

Face all but numb from the cold, and body wracked with shivers, she stumbled on through the snow until she finally spotted a building that looked promising. It was a small hotel of some kind, the sort of place used mostly by tourists from out of town. Most of the windows were broken, but the roof seemed to be intact. Eyes narrowed, she checked her pistol. It would be at least a few days before her right hand was well enough to help hold a bigger gun, so for now, her pistol would have to do.

The inside of the hotel was like another world. Even with most of the windows blown out, the walls kept the worst of the wind at bay, and she was finally able to hear properly again, as well as actually feel her face. Slowly, she crept down the corridor, eyes scanning the near darkness for any movement as she listened keenly for even the softest noise. Along the way, she was careful to keep her backpack from bumping into anything. In her state, a few Infected might be more than she could handle. It was tricky though. Whatever had happened here had been bad. Chunks of wooden panelling had been ripped off the walls and there were holes in the floor and ceiling.

She reached the end of the corridor and winced. There was a body buried in snow. Above it was a broken skylight, which must have given way from all the snow. The only parts of the body that she could see were its hands. They were like claws, blackened from the cold. For a second, she thought they twitched, but the moment passed and she pressed on.

She checked a few more rooms before she reached a large room near the front of the hotel. It was reasonably well protected with all but one of its windows intact and the roof still in place. She shrugged off her backpack and went to work shoving some smashed furniture into the doorways. If something were going to come after her, it would have to make a heck of a lot of noise.

With the room as safe as she could make it, she grabbed a metal trash can from the corner and gathered some more broken bits of furniture. A bit of gasoline and a match got a fire started and she leaned back against a wall and closed her eyes. She could get a few hours sleep and then set off again in the morning. Admittedly, she hadn't gotten as far as she would like, but she'd just have to push herself extra hard to make up for it.

Something banged into the furniture near the doors and she jerked back into wakefulness. Had she fallen asleep? If so, how long had she dozed for? However, those thoughts were shoved aside as she saw the figure pushing through the furniture in front of one of the doors. Her eyes widened. It was one of the Infected and even if she didn't recognise its face, she definitely recognised its hands. Those were the hands that she'd passed earlier, the ones poking out from beneath the mound of snow.

The Infected tilted its head toward her, its head jerking into position, and then opened its mouth to shriek at her. However, the sound that came out was more of a hiss than anything else. It lurched forward, limbs moving jerkily, but then, to her surprise, it stumbled and nearly fell. The Infected got its feet again and stumbled toward her and her eyes widened in sudden realisation. The cold… the cold must have done something to it, because normally, the Infected would have been charging right at her at breakneck speed. Her lips curled. Well, it was nice to know she wasn't the only one suffering.

The Infected finally managed to break into something close to a run and Fang lifted her pistol and fired. The shot ripped a gouge into the Infected's shoulder, spinning it around, but in a moment, it was moving forward again. She cursed – she wasn't nearly as a good a shot with her left hand as she was with her right. With a growl, she fired again and then again. The first shot caught the Infected in the gut and the third blew a hole in its neck. As the Infected sagged to the ground, Fang took careful aim and squeezed off one more shot into its head. At last, the Infected lay still.

She'd have to remember this. The cold didn't kill the Infected, but it did seem to slow them down. Perhaps it was the fact they didn't wear much clothing. Infected or not, they still had muscles and blood, and all of those could freeze. Turning away from the corpse, she reached for her backpack. Despite the blood splattered onto the floor of the room from the Infected, she was hungry, and she knew better than to leave it until later. In this cold she would need every scrap of strength she could get.

After eating a few cans of soup heated over the fire in the trashcan, Fang curled back up against the wall and closed her eyes. If there were other Infected, they would have come by now, so she should be safe, at least for a while.

X X X

Fang awakened some time later from dreams of one of the first patrols she'd ever taken through the mountains. She'd just started as a ranger then, and she'd stumbled across a pack of mountain wolves. She could still remember how magnificent they'd looked with their grey pelts and cobalt eyes. They had growled at her, almost daring her to pick a fight as they surrounded their prey, a downed elk. Fang had just stared before turning and leaving them to their kill. She was good with a rifle, all right, but the wolves had ruled the mountainsides for years before the Yun came and gave their name to the mountains, and they would be ruling them long after the Yun were gone.

For a second, she thought she was still dreaming, but then she realised that the growling coming from the doorway was very, very real. She was on her feet in an instant, her pistol up and ready. There was a wolf there, standing tall and proud just inside the door. Its pelt was dark, mostly black but with streaks of silver. But its eyes… its eyes were something else. The wolf's eyes were a lush violet, an almost metallic shade that made them all but impossible to look away from. For several long moments, the two of them just stared at each other.

The wolf's lips curled revealing long, sharp teeth, but Fang held steady. She could not afford to show weakness now, even though the animal had to be able to smell the blood coming from her hand. But where could it have come from? Of course – the Eden City Zoo was right next to the botanical gardens. Once everything had gone bad, the animals must have gotten free. Most likely, the wolf was simply looking for something to eat. Her lips twitched. If she was lucky, it might be partially tame from all of its years in the zoo. If she were unlucky, then maybe it was angry from all of its years of confinement.

"Don't make me shoot you," Fang murmured as she eased the safety off the pistol. The wolf's violet eyes gleamed and it stalked forward, stopping a little over ten feet away. At this distance, Fang would only get one shot, but she'd make sure she only needed the one. Almost absentmindedly, the wolf glanced at the Infected lying dead on the floor not far away. Could animals even get Infected? Fang wasn't sure. She'd never seen any Infected animals, so maybe they couldn't. Certainly, animals hated the Infected with a passion.

Then the wolf's eyes turned back to her.

"Don't," Fang whispered softly. "I'm not here looking for a fight. I'm just looking for someone."

The wolf's eyes met hers once again and then, in a flash of black and silver, it turned on its heel and was gone as quickly and silently as it had come. With a sigh of relief, Fang sagged back against the wall and slid to the floor. A small chuckle left her lips. If a wolf had managed to survive, then maybe Vanille had too.

When morning finally came, Fang set off again, her pace as brisk as she could manage. The snow continued to fall, but the Infected she had expected to be wandering the streets in packs had not appeared. She ran into a few, but the cold, which only got worse through the day, made them lethargic and she was able to pick them off without too much difficulty. Her main problem, however, was that she couldn't find a working car or truck. The ice and snow had either buried or damaged everything.

As night fell once again, she was treated to an almost ridiculous sight. A deer sprang out from behind a car and for a split-second the two of them just froze. No doubt, the deer was just as surprised to see her as she was to see it. In a flash, she had her pistol out. The weapon barked three times and the deer went down, fatally wounded.

That night, she ate well, hidden away in the ruins of a convenience store. However, she was not alone for long. Perhaps drawn by the fire she'd started, the wolf padded in through the shattered doors of the convenience store. The animal eyed her for a moment and then glanced at the carcass of the deer that she'd dragged in too. Without a word, she cut a slab of meat off as best she could with one hand and tossed it to the wolf.

"Here," Fang said. "It's not like I can carry it with me." She chuckled. "But you'd better keep that in mind the next time you feel hungry. I gave you food, so that means no making a meal out of me."

The next few days passed by in a similar fashion. The weather had slowed her pace to a crawl and a journey that should have taken her a few days at the most turned into almost a week of slogging through the ice and snow. Only the hope that Vanille was still alive kept her going when she was cold all the time and her body ached from fighting the snow and the wind. The wolf was there too, treading just out of sight, and each night he came to her as she sat by her fire. After the first night, she got into the habit of throwing him whatever scraps of food she had. By the time a blizzard forced her into an abandoned subway station, the wolf had grown comfortable enough to sleep on the opposite side of the fire, his head tucked onto his paws.

Some people might have called her crazy to let the wolf stay so close, but it wasn't like she could get rid of him without a fight. If she shot at him and failed to kill him, the wolf would retaliate and they would probably both end up dead. Besides, it was clear from his behaviour that the wolf was used to humans. Perhaps he'd been raised at the zoo, which would certainly explain things.

In any case, it helped to have him there. The wolf was a reminder that not everything was dead that some things, at least, could survive the Infected. And that night, as she slept on the cold concrete of the subway platform, the wolf proved his worth again. After all, animals hated the Infected, and the wolf was no different.

She awakened to hear the wolf growling loudly. His violet eyes were locked onto the blackness of the subway tunnel and she forced herself onto her feet. She could hear footsteps. It had to be Infected, and from the sound of it, there were at least a dozen of them, maybe more. Hands shaking from more than just the cold, she reached for her shotgun. Her right hands till hurt horribly whenever she had to do too much with it, but it was good enough now to help her handle the bigger weapon.

A few moments later, the footsteps turned into screams as the Infected poured out of the tunnel and onto the platform. In the flickering firelight, she could make out more than a dozen of them and she wasted no time in bringing her shotgun up and firing. The first shot hurled one of the Infected back, blown almost in half. A second shot shredded the head of another Infected and then they were reaching for her, their claw-like hands extended to rip and tear, their jaws wide open to revealing gleaming, gore encrusted teeth.

She slammed the butt of the shotgun into the first of the Infected. The Infected, who had once been a young woman, jerked back, jaw broken so that the bones showed. For a moment, nausea welled up, but Fang forced the feeling down as she levelled the shotgun and fired to finish it. Then another was on her and another. Claws raked at her back, and she gave a silent prayer of thanks that her coat was thick enough to ward off the worst of the blows.

Firing twice more, she downed another one of the Infected and drove another back into a pillar, its chest a mangled ruin. With a growl, she slapped the shotgun down on the top of its head, breaking its skull open. Blood and gore bubbled up and the Infected sank onto the ground as she turned to face another. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of black and silver as the wolf entered the fray, biting and pawing, seemingly without care.

Suddenly, something slammed into her from behind. She stumbled and then fell as the Infected clawed at her back and snapped at her neck with its teeth. Screeching hideously, the Infected ripped a hole in the back of her coat and then slammed her head into the platform. Fang cursed, tasted blood, and saw stars. Desperately, she bucked and threw one elbow back. She caught the Infected across the cheek and knocked it off as she turned, aimed her shotgun, and blasted the Infected back, a hole blown clean through its gut. To her horror, it tried to get back onto its feet until her second shot put it down for good.

More of the Infected closed in on her, and Fang cursed again as her shotgun clicked empty. Quickly, she went for her pistol and picked her shots. She dropped several more Infected before she was forced to go for the big knife at her side. It was a clumsy thing to use with gloves on, but it was better than nothing, and she swallowed back bile as the heavy blade dug right into the eye of one Infected before she wrenched it free and buried it in the cheek of another.

There were only two Infected left now, and the wolf was dealing with one of those. But as the other rushed toward her, she tripped over a crack in the surface of the platform and went down. Her head hit the concrete with a thump and she felt the pain for her earlier brush with the platform return tenfold. Stars danced along her vision and she blacked out for a split-second. When she came back to herself, the Infected was right on top of her, clawing and biting. Desperately, she reached for her knife, which she'd dropped, but the weapon was just out of reach. She gave a hysterical laugh. She was going to die from tripping over a crack in the platform? How pathetic.

But then the wolf was there. The wolf's jaws closed around the Infected's neck and the animal wrenched the Infected off. Caught between laughing and crying, Fang grabbed her knife and drove it into the Infected's head. The Infected twitched wildly until Fang jerked the blade up and across. At last, the Infected lay still.

The wolf let go of the Infected and the body hit the platform with a wet thump. The wolf had a few cuts along his flanks, and some of his fur was matted with blood, but on the whole he seemed fine. More to the point, she thought, he didn't seem to be Infected.

"Come here," Fang said as she grabbed some of her water to wash the blood from the wolf's muzzle. "I owe you one."

The wolf remained still as Fang washed the blood away and she gave it an affectionate pat on the neck. All those nights of feeding it must have paid off if it had chosen to help her. Her fingers touched something that wasn't fur and she leaned down to examine the collar all but lost in the lushness of the wolf's pelt.

The information on the collar didn't come as much of a surprise. Just like she'd thought, the wolf did come from the Eden City Zoo, although the name was interesting.

"Bahamut," she murmured. "A strange name for a wolf." She grinned and hobbled back to her fire. She had some beef jerky that she could share. "You're not a dragon, but I guess you'll do."

That night the wolf slept beside her and she couldn't help but wonder whether or not this was some kind of cosmic joke. After all, what were the odds of someone from the Yun mountains meeting and befriending a wolf named after one of the spirits revered by the Yun in ancient times? Well, whatever it was, she'd take it.

X X X

Fang had to bite back a smile as Bahamut fell into step beside her. Ever since the fight in the subway, the wolf had taken to walking alongside her. When she finally got to Vanille, the red head would have an absolute field day. Fang had come looking for her and had somehow managed to pick up a wolf along the way. Still, she had more than just Bahamut's company to thank for her good mood. After what felt like an eternity of struggle, the university was only a few more minutes away.

"You'll like Vanille," Fang said, glancing down at Bahamut. The wolf tilted its head to one side as if to ask who Vanille was and Fang chuckled. "Vanille is my sister. She's kind and friendly, and knowing her, she'll spoil you rotten." Fang smirked. "Yes, she'll probably try and convince me to give you my portion of the food."

A few minutes later, Fang's good mood was gone. She had reached the university. Or at least, she had reached what was left of it.

She stood stock still in the middle of the snow-covered road, the wind whipping her face. This couldn't be real. She had to be seeing things. The university was just… just gone. Slowly, she sank onto her knees, only dimly aware of Bahamut nudging her side. Everything… everything had burned down except for the biggest building and most of those seemed to have collapsed from all the snow. Even worse, the entire area around the university was much the same. The whole place was like one big, black, scorched scar seared into the earth and only poorly hidden by the snow.

She lurched forward and had to put one hand up to her mouth as she felt bile burn at the back of her throat. Her ears rang and she felt her vision grow dim as she forgot how to breathe.

Breathe.

She had to breathe.

A ragged sob welled up from deep inside her as she forced herself to stand. It couldn't be that bad. Maybe… maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her. Once she got closer, things would look better. There had to be something left. There just had to be.

But there wasn't.

Everything was just as she'd seen it, either burnt to the ground or toppled under feet of snow. Scarcely aware of what she was doing, she began to make her way toward the dormitories. Vanille had always been smart so she'd gotten a scholarship, and with the scholarship had come a room in the dormitories. Fang knew because Vanille had sent her pictures of her room.

Vanille's room was near the southern end of the dormitory and she had a study table in one corner of her room along with an old television, the bulky kind that sold for practically nothing now that all the new models were much smaller and lighter. The room had bright green carpet too, the kind that only Vanille could ever find cute, and her bathroom had a weird orange shower curtain that made Fang wonder just who was responsible for decorating the dormitories. Then there was the bookshelf and wardrobe, both a little dusty because Vanille was too busy to clean them, and finally the old, worn blue rug by the door.

But the dormitories were gone.

Fang dropped to her knees in the snow. She'd come all this way and found nothing but ash and snow. But maybe… maybe Vanille had found somewhere else, somewhere else to hide while the whole city burned and died and bled. But even as that thought occurred, the part of Fang that had kept her alive this far, the same, ruthless part that took over whenever she had to kill, that same part spoke up, and what it had to say wasn't pretty.

Vanille was dead. Trained soldiers, soldiers armed to the teeth and ready for anything had all died when faced by the Infected. How could Vanille, her sweet, kind, slightly eccentric Vanille have survived what hardened soldiers had not? It was impossible, utterly and totally impossible. Heck, she was a ranger, someone used to living out in the wild on her own and she had barely made it this far. She'd been able to lie to herself this far because she hadn't had to stare the truth in the face. But now, surrounded by the ruins of the university, by the absolute proof of her failure to protect the one person in the world she loved, she knew. She knew and the knowledge was like ashes in her mouth.

Bahamut growled and Fang looked up. There were two Infected there. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she reached for her shotgun. Laughing and crying at the same time, she closed the gap between them and fired. The shotgun roared and she felt a stab of pain ripple through her right hand. Instead of wincing, she welcomed it. Pain was good. She deserved it. She deserved it for failing Vanille.

As the Infected twitched and lay still on the ground, she looked around. The university lay in ruins but that wasn't enough for her. She wanted to kill all of them. Furious, she fired again, howling as the shot ripped one of the Infected to pieces in a vivid explosion of gore. Chest heaving, she glanced back and forth. Everyone had said Vanille would be fine away from her, that Vanille would be safe at Eden City University, that she'd get an education and make something of herself. And Fang… Fang had believed them, had believed that Vanille's place was somewhere away from her. She'd been stupid and foolish and naïve when Vanille had needed her to be better and now… now Vanille was gone.

If only Vanille had just stayed in Oerba, they'd be together right now. Fang could protect her and look after her and make everything all right again somehow. But there was no making any of this right again, not now, not ever again. Scarcely aware of what she was doing, Fang stalked toward the Great Hall, the last building standing in the university. There were some Infected there and she mowed them down with merciless efficiency. Her body screamed with protest as she pushed herself harder, but she refused to listen. Maybe if she'd pushed herself harder she would have gotten here earlier, maybe… maybe she would have gotten here before everything burned and the whole city died.

The last Infected rushed at her, and she reached for her knife. The weapon was awkward in her left hand, but it hardly mattered as she drove the blade into the Infected's neck and twisted. Its head came half off and she followed it down, ignoring the reedy howl coming from its mangled neck as she stabbed down into its head and body again and again. By the time she was done, the Infected was a smear, a mass of mangled flesh and blood splattered all over the snow.

Fang dragged herself back to her feet and fumbled for something, anything that she could throw at the side of the Great Hall. Her hand closed around a piece of debris and she flung it at the side of the Great Hall as hard as she could.

"You bastards had to take her from me!" she screamed as she drew her pistol and fired at the wall. "She was safe with me! We were happy and now…" Fang bit back a sob and lifted the gun to her own head. Without Vanille there was no point in going on. She swallowed thickly. Just a squeeze of her finger and it would all be over…

However, before she could pull the trigger, she looked back at the side of the Great Hall. All of the shooting had knocked loose the snow and frost that clung to the wall and there written in big, orange letters was her salvation. Eyes wide, she dropped the pistol and ran to the wall, tracing her hands over the letters. Was this real?

"Vanille," she murmured, reading the words aloud. "Vanille and Lightning were here. Gone to Bodhum to see the beach."

A crazy peal of laughter bubbled up from inside her and Fang fell onto her back. Bahamut padded over to her and she threw her arms around him.

"The beach?" She was laughing so hard that her sides hurt and great tears of joy were rolling down her cheeks. "Of course she'd want to see the beach at a time like this."

Fang scrubbed at her cheeks and picked up her pistol. Vanille was alive – she was alive and she was going to Bodhum. Whoever this Lightning person was, Fang would give them anything in the world if they could just get Vanille to Bodhum in one piece.

For the first time in a long time, Fang felt hope, real hope. "Come on, boy," Fang said as she got to her feet and patted Bahamut on the head. "We need to get to Bodhum." She grinned. "And when I get there, I'll be sure to buy this 'Lightning' a drink."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

So… it's been a while, but this time, at least, I think I have a legitimate excuse for the delay. I've recently moved house and with that came a whole laundry list of things that needed doing. Not only is packing a hassle, but then there's the actual process of moving followed by the unpacking – a task that still isn't completely done. Then there was the problem of internet… for reasons that I won't go into, getting internet up and running at my new residence has been quite a hassle, although I do hope to have that solved shortly. In any case, writing has taken something of a backseat for the past few weeks, which may account for my feeling pretty rusty when writing this.

As for the chapter itself, you'll probably notice the similarities between this chapter and Lightning's when she reaches Eden City. That is quite deliberate as Fang and Lightning are, in many respects, quite similar, especially when it comes to their deep affection for their sisters.

Bahamut (the wolf) was something I added in when I was tossing around ideas for the chapter. I was originally going to have the Eden City Zoo play a more central role, possibly by having one of the characters stumble across it, but I realised it would probably stretch credulity a bit to have our favourite characters fighting off a pride of lions and Infected at the same time. Sure, it would be cool, but there's cool and then there's crazy, and I think that idea was more of the latter than the former. In any case, I did want to keep something from the zoo and it occurred to me that the animals wouldn't just lay down and die, they'd try to live. Add to that the fact that I think Fang would be good with animals and that a wolf that's been raised by people might potentially look for people and we have Bahamut. Of course, Fang didn't have to share her food. If she'd attacked Bahamut, things would have been very different, but she was kind when she didn't have to be and it paid off.

With regards to the Infected and the cold, I want to explain several things (all of which Fang has sort of already worked out herself). The cold does not kill them, but it does slow them down. Whatever the Infection is (an issue I haven't dealt with in the story yet), it does not make the Infected invincible killing machines. They are still flesh and blood and exposing what is basically still human tissue to extremely cold weather (e.g., the kind of weather that occurs in this chapter) is going to have effects, although they are still going to be extremely dangerous to anyone who isn't properly prepared for them. This is actually a point that has puzzled me for some time when it comes to zombie fiction. If zombies are basically infected human beings, why isn't their body affected by the environment around them? I'm not talking about them whining about how cold it is, but leave a slab of meat out in freezing weather and it going to ice up and go hard. Unless a zombie can somehow keep their blood and flesh warm enough to operate efficiently, it is difficult to see how they could just behave as usual in the freezing cold.

Now that I'm settled in again, I hope to resume writing as usual. I'm currently working on my other stories and a piece of original fiction. I'm more than 80, 000 words in on the original, but it will probably end up being closer to 120, 000 words when it's done. Sigh. I'll have to trim it a little, probably. While I haven't posted that anywhere, I will say that it is the story that Whispers of the Gods is a cross over with (i.e., Whispers of the Gods is kind of a cross over between that story and Final Fantasy).

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Vanille looked out the window of the four-wheel drive and frowned. They were in the middle of some rugged hills on some road that she didn't even know the name of. It was a pretty bleak place too. There was nothing for miles and miles except for snow and trees, and there was something about the trees that wasn't right. Maybe it was how close to the road they grew, or maybe it was how big they were, or maybe it was just the way they looked, all skeletal and haggard without their leaves. They were like blackened bones sticking up through the snow. Whatever it was though, it sent a shiver down her spine despite all the clothes she was wearing to try and fight the cold. Sure, they could have turned the four-wheel drive's heater on, but they were trying to stretch their resources as far as possible.

And speaking of saving resources… things wouldn't have been so bad if she could just switch Bhakti on record everything. It was easier that way, easier to make believe that things weren't so bad, that this was just some kind of scary movie when she was looking at the world through the camera's eyes. But batteries didn't grow on trees and so she had to content herself with recording for a few minutes each night before she went to sleep. Even so, there was a certain comfort in just holding Bhakti in her arms, never mind the fact that the camera was a little cold and couldn't hug her back.

Turning away from the window, Vanille looked at Lightning again. The other woman's eyes were focused on the road ahead, darting occasionally from side to side to check for any other signs of danger. It made Vanille feel a little bad relying on Lightning for so much, but the other woman seemed to relish the chance to protect someone. Sometimes Vanille wondered if that was because of what had happened to Serah, but she knew better than to ask.

"Do we really have to go this way?" Vanille asked. "It's… it's really creepy."

Lightning glanced away from the road for a moment. This far into the hills, they hadn't encountered much of anything for a while, Infected or otherwise. Even the roads were fairly clear except for the snow. "This is the quickest way to Bodhum," she replied. Her mouth firmed into a thin line and her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "And it takes us away from the larger towns. It might be a little tough, but it should be safer." She looked at Vanille again. "You remember what the towns were like, don't you?"

Vanille shuddered. Things had been bad in Eden City, especially at the start. Back then when her friend had been with her, they'd been forced to sit tight inside their little hideaway as fire and the Infected ran rampant through the city. There had been so much screaming. But the silence that had come after had been worse. They'd wondered if they were the only ones left. And after the Infected had gotten her friends… the silence then had been the worst of all. She'd been convinced that she was all alone until Lightning had showed up. Maybe that's why she'd started talking to Bhakti in the first place, to try and break the silence so that she could pretend that she wasn't alone.

Still, the towns she and Lightning had passed through had been pretty bad too. The bodies, what was left of them, were scattered everywhere, either ripped to bits by the Infected or picked clean by birds and other animals. In the last town, she'd seen a dog picking at the corpse of a little girl. Despite everything she'd seen and lived through that sight – the dog still had its collar on, a shiny red one with a bell – was almost more than she could bear. She'd picked up a rock and thrown it to drive the dog away. It didn't matter that the Infected might hear the sound. She couldn't just stand by and watch some dog eat what was left of a little girl.

The towns had also been crawling with Infected. Whatever it was that drove the Infected, it seemed to push them from place to place in search of fresh prey. The Infected from Eden City must have fanned out, sprawling over the countryside like a plague, eating and killing. She and Lightning had drawn more than their fair share of the Infected, and they'd had more than a few close calls. Only luck and Lightning's uncanny skill with weaponry had kept them alive.

"I guess you're right." Vanille wrapped her arms around her middle and stared back out the window. As bad as this place was, if it meant keeping out of trouble it would be worth it. Still, they needed to find some shelter soon. More dark clouds had begun to gather on the horizon and with the snow already on the road, it wouldn't be long before they were forced to stop again, maybe even for a couple of days. "What do we do if it keeps snowing like this?"

Lightning guided the four-wheel drive around a sharp bend in the road. "There's a place where we can stay nearby."

Vanille glanced sideways at Lightning. It had been weeks since they'd left Eden City, and although the other woman had definitely warmed up a bit there was still so much she didn't know about her. Lightning was… was wonderful, even if a lot of the time, she didn't think so herself. It was almost like the other woman didn't or couldn't realise how very much she'd done for her sister, how much she'd given just so Serah could be happy. Maybe Lightning wasn't good with words – sometimes she went hours without talking – but Vanille had learned to trust in actions as much as words. If Serah had been the same, then she would have known how much Lightning loved her.

If she could, Vanille wanted to understand Lightning to… to really get to know her. Maybe it was because she missed Fang, or maybe it was she was going crazy – or crazier – but she wanted, needed to learn everything she could about Lightning. Lightning was like a puzzle, and maybe if Vanille could work her out then Lightning wouldn't have those moments when she'd stare out of the window and look so sad that Vanille just wanted to cry. And maybe… just maybe, Lightning wouldn't look at her and see someone else. More than anything, Vanille wanted Lightning to see her instead of the past. Things were bad enough in the present without the past weighing them down as well and Lightning was all she had now, maybe all she'd ever have.

"How do you know what's out here?" Vanille asked. There had been the faintest hitch in Lightning's voice before, the same hitch she sometimes got when she spoke about Serah. "Did you know someone out here?"

"Not exactly." Something dark entered Lightning's eyes only to vanish as Lightning clamped down on her emotions with the same ruthless efficiency that she did everything else. "I lost my father when I was very young, but my mother… my mother only died when I was fifteen."

Vanille said nothing. This was not something that Lightning had mentioned before. She had alluded to it, yes, but she'd never spoken of it plainly. What really worried Vanille, however, was the way Lightning spoke the words. Lightning's voice was calm, dry, flat. She could just as easily have been reading the weather report from a newspaper. "I'm sorry," Vanille said as she reached over and tugged Bhakti into her lap. The camera was a comforting weight against her. "I… I never really knew my parents. I grew up in an orphanage."

"With Fang, right?" Lightning murmured. It was a shame she'd never meet Fang.

Vanille nodded. "Yes, with Fang."

Lightning's gaze grew cold as she directed all of her attention to the road ahead. "When my mother got sick, we didn't have enough money to pay for all of her treatment even with insurance. But we did have a cabin in these hills. We used to spend our winters there." She paused. "We sold it to pay for her treatment but in the end… in the end it didn't matter. She died and it was just me and Serah." Her jaw clenched. "Serah loved that place. I promised myself I'd buy it back one day and we'd go there, just the two of us." A faint smile crossed her lips. "We'd do all the things we used to do, back in the good days. We'd make snowmen and drink hot chocolate and everything would be okay."

Vanille bit her lip. Life wasn't fair, not one bit. She'd known that for a long time, but somehow, her time with Lightning had only driven that point home. She and Fang had never had family to speak of, not that they could remember. To have a family, and a good one too, only to lose it – it had taken the Infected to teach Vanille what that felt like. "We could… we could do some of those things," she said softly. Lightning's eyes snapped to her and Vanille had to fight to keep her voice steady. "I mean… I know I'm not Serah but… but maybe we could try."

Lightning sighed and forced herself to relax. The four-wheel drive had just crested a short hill and there was a series of cabins ahead of them, evenly spaced along the road, perhaps a hundred or so yard between each one. They were tucked up against a small rise with the trees trimmed back a bit. "It's okay," she said at last as she reached over to put one hand on Vanille's shoulder. "I'm not mad… I just…" She dragged in a deep breath, the pain in her chest suddenly almost too much to bear. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. Things weren't supposed to just… just fall apart."

Vanille put one hand on Lightning's. "I know." Her grin was watery. "Is one of those cabins yours? I bet it's the big one." She pointed to the largest of the cabins, a three-storey monstrosity that looked to be on the verge of collapse beneath the weight of all the snow on its roof.

Lightning shook her head. She knew what Vanille was trying to do, and she appreciated it. "No, it's that one there." She pointed to one of the more normal looking cabins about halfway along the strip of buildings.

"Oh?" Vanille squinted. The cabin wasn't especially large, but it looked to be quite sturdy and it seemed to be in pretty good condition. "I guess it'll do."

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the cabin. The wind was strong enough to whip at the scarves they wore over their faces and Vanille had to strain to hear Lightning.

"Stay close," Lightning ordered. "We need to check the cabin." Her eyes flicked over to the other cabins. "We won't be able to check all of the others, but we should be able to barricade ourselves in." She kicked the snow. "The Infected don't seem to like the cold either, which should help."

Vanille nodded and quickly checked herself over. Shotgun? Check. Pistol? Check. Knife? Check. Satisfied that all of her weaponry was in place, she fell into step behind Lightning. The other woman had chosen to go with her rifle, a fact that had initially puzzled Vanille. A shotgun was better, or should have been better for fighting in close, but Lightning was so quick and accurate with a rifle that it hardly mattered. Rifle ammunition could also be a little tricky to find, but they'd stumbled across a ruined Sanctum Security barricade a few days ago, which had turned up a decent amount of ammunition.

"Remember the drill," Lightning said as they crept toward the cabin. "Stay behind me and keep your eyes and ears open."

"Right." The drill was very, very simple. Lightning went in first and Vanille followed after her, just far enough behind that any Infected that took Lightning by surprise wouldn't be able to get her as well. If they did run into anything then it was Vanille's job to make sure that there was nothing behind them to worry about before she helped Lightning kill whatever was in front of them. It was also up to Vanille to grab anything useful in the rooms they searched while Lightning stood guard. It was a simple system, but it worked well and it let each of them play to their strengths.

Vanille tucked her scarf closer to her face and followed Lightning up the steps of the cabin toward the door. "Let's get this over with. It's getting pretty cold out here. And the sooner we get settled in, the sooner we can have some hot chocolate." She grinned. Hot chocolate was a rare commodity, but they'd found some a while back when searching a clump of wrecked cars for supplies. Most of the cars had been empty, their occupants either gone or mangled, but they'd found one car with a few supplies left over. The driver had been in the front seat surrounded by half a dozen dead Infected. Amongst the supplies had been a half-finished tin of hot chocolate powder.

"Stay alert," Lightning said sternly. "We can relax after we've checked everything."

Vanille winced and nodded. She needed to stay sharp for both their sakes. As Lightning studied the front door, Vanille glanced around the porch. There was a rocking chair in front of them, but it was empty, and there were several pots of dead flowers nearby too. However, the windows seemed to be intact which was a good sign.

Lightning put one hand on the doorknob. To their surprise, the door swung open.

"Get ready," Lightning warned as the door swung open.

Inside, it was dark, which was to be expected since the power hadn't been on for weeks now. Lightning reached for one of the flowerpots and tossed it into the hallway. It broke with a crash and they waited. If there were any Infected in the cabin, the sound was sure to draw them out.

Nothing stirred.

"All right," Lightning said, moving into the corridor and angling her rifle toward the nearest door. "Let's take a closer look."

They inched forward, stopping just long enough to flick on the flashlights they'd taped onto their guns. It wasn't completely dark, but it was better safe than sorry. The corridor ahead of them was empty, and a quick look at the rooms branching off it showed much the same. Still, there were some signs of occupation. The kitchen and linen closet had both been ransacked and there were empty cans of food piled up beside the sink along with several bottles of water. Vanille exhaled, shivering, and looked more closely at the bottles of water. The water had frozen into ice.

"Someone's been here," Lightning murmured. Her gaze narrowed as they stepped past the living room and dining room and into the master bedroom. In a flash of movement, she tried to step in front of Vanille, but it was too late.

Vanille's mouth went dry. There were five people there – a man, a woman, and three children – all of them huddled beneath a thin blanket. Newspaper had been draped over the blanket to try and increase the warmth, but clearly it hadn't been enough. All of them were dead.

"They're dead." Vanille felt bile burn at the back of her throat and her hand went for Bhakti or the wallets, but they were back in the car. Instead, she sagged against the far wall.

"Yes," Lightning said as she knelt by the group of people. She peeled the blanket and newspapers away and beneath it the people were all dressed in normal clothes. "I didn't see a car anywhere, so they must have come here on foot somehow thinking that they would be safe because of how isolated it is. My guess is, they weren't ready for winter and when it came they were too far from anywhere to get the supplies they needed to survive." Her gaze dropped to where the man and woman's arms were draped around the children. "They did almost everything right and if this had been any other time of the year they might have been okay." She shook her head. "This isn't right. None of this is right."

Vanille gulped, glad that she hadn't thrown up. "Do… do we have to stay here?"

Lightning pursed her lips and looked out the window. The snow had begun to fall quite heavily now. "I'm not sure if we have much of a choice. I don't know if we'll have enough time to check the other cabins before the weather forces us indoors."

Vanille clutched at Lightning's sleeve. "Please, please don't make me stay here." She looked back at the people – they had to be a family. "Not… not in here with them. I know this place is special to you but…"

Lightning dragged in a deep, deep breath. Vanille could already see the refusal on her lips. They'd already spent a lot of time checking the cabin, moving now invited trouble. But then Lightning's eyes softened and she nodded.

"Fine, we'll try the next cabin." Lightning started back toward the front door. "Besides, we'll need a place for the car. Whoever bought this place knocked down the shed that used to be beside the cabin." She paused for a moment and tossed a look over her shoulder at Vanille. It was a smile, small and bittersweet. "And you're wrong about the cabin… without Serah, it's nothing more than a pile of wood. Just… just telling someone about it was enough, I guess, now that's Serah's gone."

The next cabin they checked was, thankfully, all but deserted. The only occupants were a few irate squirrels that quickly vacated the premises when Lightning pointed her rifle their way. There was also a shed not far from the cabin, and after a bit of trial and error, they managed to squeeze the four-wheel drive and trailer into it. However, the cabin did have a few broken windows, so their next task was to get those patched up before they settled in what must have been the dining room. It was Lightning's choice to stay there since it was close enough to the front door to allow for a hasty escape, but there was also a large fireplace.

"Come with me," Lightning said. "There are probably some logs out back that we can use for the fireplace."

The two of them swung around the back of the cabin and sure enough there were a few logs of wood piled up against the back of the cabin. It took all of Vanille's strength to lift even one of them, but Lightning was able to handle one without too much difficulty. Despite the hard work though, Vanille knew it would be worth it. After weeks of fighting the cold, she could finally curl up beside an actual fireplace.

Lightning had just gone around the corner with the second last of the logs, leaving Vanille with the last, when the red head caught a flash of movement from the trees. In a flash, she dropped the log and went for her shotgun. She peered into the snow swirling through the air and then relaxed a fraction. It was just a dog.

She grinned at the animal. "Silly thing, you had me worried for a moment." She smiled and tilted her head to one side. "Now, what kind of dog are you?" The dog was large, but she couldn't be certain of the breed. Still, she'd always been good with animals, so –

The dog growled and Vanille froze. Its teeth were bared and its lips pulled back into a snarl. Suddenly aware of how lean the animal was, of how hungry it looked, Vanille inched back, only to stop short as she realised that half a dozen more dogs had appeared. They were probably feral animals, and a dim memory came to her of a complaint that Fang had once made about having to keep the park free of feral dogs and cats. Or were these simply domesticated animals driven wild by the loss of their owners? Whatever they were, they looked very, very hungry.

Sweat trickled down her temple despite the cold as she considered her options. They were closing in on her in a loose semi-circle. She could shoot one, but then the others would be on her in a flash. She cursed inwardly. These dogs weren't all but mindless like the Infected. They were hunting in a pack with coordination. She shook her head. This was no time for giving up. She would get through this. She had survived the Infected so no dog was going to make a meal out of her.

Bang.

One of the dogs went down, its head blown apart by a single rifle shot.

The others rounded on the source of the attack, but Lightning was already lining up her next shots. The rifle jerked hard against her shoulder and the dogs took off for the trees. Lightning followed them, bringing down two more before Vanille got her wits back and fired, killing one dog and wounding several others.

Lightning grabbed her by the arm. "Are you okay?"

Vanille shivered and then threw her arms around Lightning. "I'm okay. I'm okay." 

Lightning dragged in a deep breath. "Good. We'll have to block up the doors and windows. I should also be able to rig up something with a few empty cans that we can use for an alarm." She paused. "And Vanille… no going anywhere on your own. There are probably more of them and this has been a rough winter. They will come after us again if they get the chance."

Vanille nodded slowly and then gave Lightning a silly smile. "So… I guess we won't be making any snowmen then?"

Lightning just stared for a moment before she walked away, a scowl on her face. Still, it wasn't more than a few steps before her shoulders began to shake with barely suppressed laughter.

X X X

That night, Vanille had a hard time getting to sleep. There were more dogs out there – she could hear them howling – and even barricading the doors and windows didn't make her feel all that much safer. Only the presence of Lightning in the room let her relax enough to fall asleep. Somehow, she knew that the other woman would look after her.

The next morning, Vanille was the first one to wake up, which was something of a change. Lightning almost always woke up first, but Vanille had dreamed of the people in the first cabin, of the slow and steady horror of freezing to death, and that had woken her up far earlier than usual. Gingerly, she got to her feet and picked up Bhakti. This was an opportunity she couldn't miss.

"Hehehehe." She switched the camera on and crept toward Lightning, stopping just long enough to throw on a sweater and her thick coat. "Look at how cute she looks," she whispered to the camera. Lightning was lying down with her hands tucked under her chin and a lock of her pink hair over her face. Before going to sleep, Lightning had rigged up empty cans and string all around the cabin so that they would know the moment the dogs broke in.

Vanille knelt by Lightning's side. Lightning almost always woke her up, so it would be a nice change to wake the other woman up for once. She might even gloat a little. "Hey, Lightning," she said, grabbing the other woman's shoulder and grinning. "Wake –"

There was a flash of movement and suddenly Vanille found herself on her back staring down the barrel of Lightning's pistol.

"Lightning…" she croaked. Above her, the other woman's eyes blazed with fury. Slowly, very slowly, that fury drained away and Lightning pulled back. Disgust was written all over her face.

"What were you doing?" Lightning spat. "Don't ever touch me while I'm asleep like that, Vanille. Ever."

Vanille felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. "I… I was just…" She fumbled for Bhakti only to realise that the camera had slipped out of her hands. Frantic, she stumbled over to where Bhakti was and turned it over and over in her hands to see if it was damaged. Thankfully, it wasn't. "I…" She faltered at the look in Lightning's eyes. The other woman was so, so mad. "I…"

Scrubbing at cheeks that were suddenly damp with tears, Vanille put Bhakti down and fled. Stupid Lightning, she thought furiously. She was just going to wake her up. Instead, she got tossed around like a ragdoll and had a gun pointed in her face. And it wasn't even her fault. Lightning had never said anything about not waking her up like that. Didn't the past few weeks mean anything? It wasn't like she was trying to make Lightning mad. She was… she was just trying to cheer her up.

Blindly, she shoved some furniture out of the way and went out onto the porch. She… she couldn't stay there with Lightning when the other woman was so mad at her and for no good reason at all. Lightning didn't have to be such a grouch about the whole thing and Vanille was sick of trying to cheer her up, sick of always trying to see the bright side of things.

She stopped dead in her tracks as the icy wind whipped into her face. She'd gone outside.

And there was a dog waiting for her – actually, more than just one dog. They must have been waiting for one of them to come outside and now, now she was outside and they were going to get her and Lightning was still inside and probably too angry to check on her and –

The first dog sprang and Vanille went down. It was only dumb luck and desperation that let her wedge one arm up to keep it from tearing her throat out as she slammed into the wood of the porch. Instead, the dog clamped its teeth around her arm and she was glad, more glad than she could put into words, that she was wearing her thick coat and sweater. Pain tore up her arm and for a moment, the pain was so bad that she almost thought that the dog had snapped her arm in two. But then the other dogs were there, snapping and pawing at her boots, her legs, her stomach – anything they could reach, really – and if it weren't for the thick clothing she wore, she would already have been dead.

Then there was another sound, a sound that was halfway between a sob and a roar.

It was Lightning.

The next few moments passed in a blur. There was the roar of gunfire as Lightning emptied her rifle and then drew her pistol. The dogs should have run, but they were crazed with hunger now, and there was death in their eyes. One of them leapt at Lightning only to go down, shot twice in the chest. Lightning's pistol clicked empty and there was a hiss of steel as Lightning went for her knife. Only once before had Vanille seen Lightning use her knife, on the first day that she'd seen her. Back then, Lightning had been emotionally and physically exhausted. Now, however, she seemed enraged beyond words, her lips drawn into an almost feral snarl that matched the looks on the dogs.

Lightning stabbed the dog on top of Vanille in the neck and jerked the blade brutally to one side, all but decapitating it. Another leapt on her back and Lightning flung herself back, slamming the dog into one of the columns that supported the roof over the porch. The dog's back met the column with a wet crunch and Lightning jabbed her knife back into its face.

Vanille felt a small smile slip onto her lips as the world turned black. Lightning was fighting… fighting for her.

When she woke up again, it was dark outside the windows. Her arm ached horribly as did most of her body. Nothing seemed to be broken though, just very bruised, although she could feel a lot of little cuts and scrapes. Slowly, she turned her head. Lightning was there, slumped over in a chair. Had the other woman watched over her the whole day? Her eyes drifted to the corner and then widened as she took in the pile of bloodstained clothing. Had Lightning killed all of the dogs?

A cough wracked her frame and Lightning was awake and at her side in an instant.

"You stupid, stupid girl!" Lightning growled as Vanille found herself swept up into an awkward embrace. Her face was pressed into Lightning's chest, the woman's pink hair all around them. "What were you thinking? I told you that you weren't supposed to go outside on your own and you should have known to check before opening the door. What were you thinking?"

Vanille felt moisture trickle down onto her and blinked. Was… was Lightning crying? Suddenly, she found herself unable to fight off her own tears. "I'm sorry…" she mumbled over and over. "I'm so sorry. I just… it's… you were so mad and I couldn't be there when you were like that and…"

Lightning pulled away and Vanille was utterly shaken by the thin trails of moisture she saw on the woman's cheeks. "Mad?" She laughed brokenly. "I… I wasn't mad, not at you. I was… I was scared." She looked down at her hands. There were still little flecks of blood there. "I… we're not okay, Vanille, you know that. Physically, maybe, but mentally, we're both messed up. But you… you're not dangerous. Talking to a video camera is weird, but me… I… I get thoughts sometimes… dangerous ones, and sometimes I can barely keep myself from doing things… horrible things." She stared at the bloodstained clothes in the corner and then looked back at Vanille. "I'm not safe to be around, not all the time. I can't… I can't always control myself and…"

"You are safe." Vanille reached out and took Lightning's hands in hers, well aware of the blood on them. "I've never felt safer with anybody but Fang." She scrubbed at her cheeks. "And if you're worried about hurting me, you don't have to, because I know you never would. Even before you didn't… you stopped."

"When you went outside…" Lightning began. "I heard the dogs and then… I saw them trying to get you and I lost it. I… I killed all of them that were there and then I got you back here and cleaned out your wounds, but I nearly lost you. If I'd been there even a few seconds later, I'd have lost you, just like I lost Serah." She laughed mirthlessly. "And all because I can't stand to be touched when I'm sleeping. How stupid is that?"

Pity welled up inside of Vanille. She'd started to think of Lightning as some invincible soldier, but she, more than anyone should have known better. After all, she'd seen Lightning break down in the attic all those weeks ago. She knew what ghosts lurked beneath the other woman's icy blue eyes. "It's not stupid," she said softly. "And if that's what worries you so much then here." She patted the floor next to her. "Remember in the attic? We shared a bed then and you didn't try and kill me. Maybe if we share more often you'll get used to me. Besides," she added with a shaky smile. "It gets cold at night and we won't always have a fireplace."

Lightning stared. "You're crazy, Vanille."

"I know," Vanille replied calmly. "You just said that." She smiled softly. "I talk to a video camera and sometimes I forget that wallets aren't people, but you're not exactly one to talk either. You're paranoid and violent and there are times when I think you want to just kill us both and end things, but that's okay. We can be crazy together, and maybe if we're lucky some of the crazy will cancel out."

"That doesn't make any sense," Lightning said, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. "And what if it doesn't work. What if we just get worse? What if I hurt you?"

"Then we get worse. Besides, the world is already pretty crazy anyway. But you won't hurt me." Vanille patted the spot beside her again. "We're going to go all the way to Bodhum and then we'll build a huge sandcastle on the beach."

Lightning's lips twitched. "I'm not good at making sandcastles."

"Then I'll teach you." Vanille paused. "My arm still hurts, but I don't think it's broken. We'll probably have to stay here a few days just to be let me heal up a bit from all the bruises and cuts." She peered at Lightning. "You did clean the wounds out properly, right? I don't want to get some kind of infection."

"I did."

"Good." Vanille "And maybe before we leave we can build a snowman or too." She fixed Lightning with a firm look. "You can make snowmen, right?"

Finally, Lightning smiled. "Not really. Serah was always much better at that kind of thing than me."

Vanille rolled her eyes dramatically and grabbed Lightning's arm to tug her into place beside her on the floor. "I really do have to do everything, don't I?"

It took a few days before Vanille was up and about again, and an entire week before the weather was good enough for them travel. Before they left, they were sure to build three snowmen. One was Vanille's and one was Lightning's. Lightning's was terrible. The last snowman… the last was for Serah, and Vanille helped Lightning build it.

Then they were on the road again, headed toward Bodhum. Vanille hoped that Lightning was better at improvising explosives than she was at building snowmen. No trip to the beach would be complete without a few fireworks.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy nor am I making any money off of this.

Well, this was a quicker update, that's for sure. One of the things I like about writing Vanille and Lightning in this story is that both of them are messed up. Neither of them is entirely okay and they have no choice except to make the best of things. The similarities that each of them has to the other important figures in their life only complicates things. Lightning can't help but see Serah when she looks at Vanille, and Vanille just wants to be seen for herself. In a world where only the two of them exist, being recognised for who she is rather than who she resembles is something that Vanille needs. But at the same time, Vanille sees Fang in Lightning, and that brings its own complications because Lightning isn't Fang. She isn't good humoured and warm. If anything, she's on the verge of a breakdown and even on the best of days, she's not exactly warm and cuddly.

Feral animals are a problem that I expect any post-apocalyptic society to have to deal with. Even in the best of times, feral dogs are widely known to attack livestock and pose a risk to farmers and occupants of rural areas. With most of humanity dead or Infected, their numbers would only increase and the arrival of a harsh winter would leave them without much food. Vanille would thus look pretty edible, and even gunfire wouldn't scare off a pack of feral dogs if they were hungry enough.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Sazh woke up to the smell of hot stew, and a faint smile crossed his lips. One of the advantages of travelling with Serah and Snow was that Serah actually knew how to cook. She had a way of just throwing things together and coming up with something that wasn't just edible, but actually quite delicious. It was amazing how much good food could help. Even if it was only for a few minutes, the world didn't seem quite so bad.

"Morning," Snow drawled as Sazh padded into the kitchen. They'd been stuck in an abandoned house for almost a week the now, the weather so bad that trying to leave would have been suicide.

Sazh nodded back. "Morning." He glanced over to one of the kitchen counters. Serah was putting her stew together in a big pot on top of one of the portable gas cookers. She had her hair tied back, and she was glaring into the pot. His lips twitched. For someone so delicate looking, she could glare quite fiercely when she wanted to. "How's the weather been?"

Snow looked toward the living room. "Take a look. It's the best it's been for days."

Sazh made his way into the living room. Whoever had been in this place before them had boarded the windows up, but there was a large enough gap between the boards for him to see outside. To his surprise, the weather wasn't just a little bit better – it was good. The snow had stopped falling, and the wind was nothing more than a gentle breeze.

"We might actually be able to leave today," Sazh murmured. He sighed. They'd have to get everything packed up though, and that was assuming that the cars still worked. They'd done their best to get the vehicles under some cover beside the house, but there was no telling what the snow and cold might have done. And even if the cars still worked, there was still all the snow to worry about. It might have stopped snowing, but there was a week's worth of snow out there to deal with. The four-wheel drive he and Dajh had would probably be all right, but Serah and Snow's sedan might find things a little tougher.

He pursed his lips. After a week trapped inside, it would feel good to be doing something. He had no idea if Serah's plan of heading to Bodhum would work, but it had be better than just driving around. He knew that sooner or later, he'd get careless or make a mistake, and both he and Dajh would end up dead. Bodhum was a long shot, a one in a million chance, but it was better than nothing. One way or another, things would end in Bodhum. For Dajh's sake, he hoped things ended well.

"Are you brooding again?" Snow shouted from the door of living room. "It's too early in the morning for that. Serah says breakfast is almost done, so maybe you could go wake up Dajh."

Sazh chuckled softly. Snow was probably the last optimist left on the planet, but the big man was right. Sazh would have plenty of time to brood later. Right now, he should just hold onto what little happiness he could. "Fine, I'll go wake him up, but make sure you take some grain out too. You know how Chirpy gets during breakfast. I sweat that chocobo thinks he's a person."

Snow laughed and Sazh headed back into the bedroom. He bit back a laugh of his own. During the night, Dajh had rolled over so that he was laying almost face down, his blankets tangled around his ankles. Chirpy was perched on the chest, his head tucked under one wing. Sazh shook his head and knelt down beside his son. It was funny how used he'd gotten to Chirpy, to say nothing of Serah and Snow. It was getting harder and harder to remember what it had been like with just him and Dajh, and maybe that was for the best. The five of them – chocobo included – might not be a family, but with how things were, they weren't that far off.

"Okay, Dajh," Sazh said, giving his son's shoulder a gentle shake. "Time to get up. It's breakfast."

Dajh groaned and rolled over. On his chest, Chirpy gave an indignant squawk and only barely managed to avoid being squashed. Trilling noisily, the chocobo gave Sazh's shoe a few angry pecks. "Daddy? Is it morning already?"

Sazh nodded and lifted Dajh up onto his feet. "Yes, it is, son. Now, come on, Serah put some stew together, and if you ask me it smells pretty nice."

Dajh sniffed the air and then grinned. "It does smell nice." He reached down for Chirpy and tucked the bird into his jacket pocket. "Come on, Chirpy, let's get something to eat!"

Breakfast passed in a blur of easygoing conversation. It had been weeks since they'd all started travelling together, and Sazh liked to think he had a pretty good idea of what sort of people Serah and Snow were.

In a lot of ways, Snow was the easier of the two to understand. The blonde had grown up an orphan, or so he'd said, and he'd spent much of his youth looking after some other orphans he'd grown up with before he moved to Eden City. Snow had taken to Dajh almost at once, seemingly happy to take part in the boy's games, no matter how childish they looked. There was a fondness in his eyes when he looked at Dajh too, an emotion that Sazh knew very well. Snow was the kind of man who liked to look after people, to try to do the right thing, the good thing, and even the Infection hadn't managed to change that. Sure, Snow was big, and he could fight when he had to, but there were still times when Sazh saw him flinch when they were fighting the Infected. If Sazh had to guess, it was because Snow still sort of saw the Infected as people. Well, Sazh hadn't flinched in a long time, and anything that came after his son was nothing more than a walking corpse.

But Serah… she was harder to figure out. For more than a fortnight, Sazh had thought that he understood her. Serah was kind and sweet, and although she liked looking after Dajh, she was always careful to never overstep her bounds. Her past explained that easily enough. She'd told him about it late one night when Snow had been sleeping. She didn't like making Snow sad, and her story was definitely a sad thing.

Serah had lost both her parents growing up, and her sister had been the one to take care of her. That sister of hers had joined the Guardian Corps, and she'd been the one to teach Serah everything she knew about staying alive. But joining the Guardian Corps had done something to her sister, something bad. Her sister had been forced to grow up far too fast, and suddenly, it was like Serah didn't have a sister anymore. Instead, it was like her sister wanted to be her mother. But no one could ever replace Serah's mother, not even the sister she loved so much. According to Serah that was where it had all started to go wrong, where they'd started fighting, and saying things that Serah would have given anything to take back. And that was why Serah would never try and take Lahna's place. She might dote on Dajh, maybe even spoil him a little, but she'd never try and be his mother. Everything a parent should do, she left to Sazh, and he was more grateful than he could ever say for that.

But underneath that delicate exterior, there was something else inside Serah, something that he only saw now and then. He'd seen it for the first time after one of the Infected had lunged at Snow. The big man's back had been turned, and Serah had been out of bullets, so instead she'd just marched up to that snarling, hissing monster and caved its head in with the butt of her hunting rifle. Sazh had never seen anything quite like it, and what worried him was the look in Serah's eyes. Her eyes had been cold, so cold it burned. Still, he understood – he probably even looked like that sometimes. They'd both lost so much that they'd rather die than lose anyone else they cared about.

All the same, they were careful to keep all the talk over breakfast pretty light. They talked about normal things, like what their favourite foods were, or what sort of clothes they liked. Anything serious was kept for when Dajh wasn't around. He was still just a boy, and all of them wanted to let him hang onto that for at least a little while longer.

"So," Sazh said as breakfast began to wind down. "I think we should head out today. There's no telling when we'll get another break in the weather, and I want to get to Bodhum as soon as possible."

Snow shrugged. "We can check the cars after breakfast, I guess. If they're still working, it shouldn't take much more than an hour before we're ready." He glanced at Serah. "You know the way better than any of us. What do you think?"

Serah folded her hands in her lap. "The weather is much better, so we should be okay. Besides, we'll be out of the hills soon, and once we're on the main roads, we'll be able to set a quicker pace." She nodded firmly. "Yes, I think we should go. There's also a town about half a day from here. We might be able to get some more supplies from there, since we are running a little low."

Running a little low was an understatement. Being trapped in the house for a week meant a week without being able to gather more supplies, and even before that, it had been slim pickings. On the upside, the cold meant that anything that was left would take longer to spoil. At least they'd been able to salvage a few coats and blankets from the buildings they searched, otherwise they'd have frozen to death weeks ago.

"What do you think we might find in that town?" Sazh asked. Of course, he wasn't just talking about supplies. They were also running low on ammunition, and their encounter with a pack of wild dogs a few weeks ago hadn't helped at all. The dogs had gone after Dajh first and then Serah, and they'd been damn lucky to get away with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises to show for it. They had Chirpy to thank for that. Out in the open, the bird seemed to have a sixth sense for trouble, and after that they'd made sure to always try and find some grain whenever they looked for supplies. Chirpy had certainly earned it.

"There was a mall in town, not too big, but not too small either." Serah was lost in memory for a moment. "Back… back when I was younger, my family had a cabin, and sometimes we used to pass through here on our way back to Bodhum. If we'd been good, my mom used to let us eat at this really nice burger place." She sighed. "I don't think it's there anymore though." She shook her head. "Anyway, there was this large supermarket on the first floor, and the ground floor had a food court. I don't know much is left, but we should be able to find something." She gave Sazh a meaningful look. "The town itself isn't all that big either."

Sazh nodded just a fraction. Small was good. A small town meant there were likely to be less Infected. "Okay then. I think we should get going as quickly as we can. We don't know how long this good weather will hold, and I don't want to be on the road if it gets bad again."

"You're right." Serah smiled sunnily and reached into her pockets. "But first why don't we have some chocolate?" She grinned at their looks of surprise. "I was digging through some of the cupboards last night. I didn't find very much, but I did find some chocolate bars hidden way down the back." She giggled. "Someone must have been hiding them – I remember I used to do that when I was kid."

After eating the chocolate – Sazh gave his to Dajh – they hustled about getting things ready. As the smallest person there, it was up to Dajh to help Serah get all of their cooking equipment, blankets, and other small things together. As for Snow and Sazh, it was up to them to see to the cars.

Outside, it took Snow and Sazh almost half an hour to clear all of the snow off the cars.

"Well," Snow said as he tugged one of the sedan's doors opened and turned the keys to the ignition. "Here's hoping it still works." The vehicle sputtered for a few moments and then started in earnest. Snow grinned. "Well, what do you know? I guess today is our lucky day."

Sazh gave the other man a wry look. "Every day that we're alive is a lucky day." He paused. "Or an unlucky one, depending on how you look at it." He turned the keys to the four-wheel drive and gave the car a look of approval as it started. He and Dajh hadn't always had the four-wheel drive, but it had been work the risk to get it.

Snow chuckled and started to reorganise the things in the sedan for travel. "You know, I was starting to think Serah and I would never run into people like you and Dajh – decent people, I mean." His voice grew serious. "But now, I'd trust you with my life, Sazh. Heck, I have trusted you with my life."

Sazh took a few moments to think. It wasn't often that Snow talked like this, so it had to be important to him. "It's all right. I know exactly what you mean. I… I do my best for Dajh, but I can tell he's happier now that you and Serah are around." He shrugged. "That's all I can ask for really, though it helps to know that there's someone around who'll look after him if anything ever happens to me." He laughed softly. "But you know what the funny thing is? If things hadn't gone bad, I probably never would have met you or Serah, and that would have been a damn shame."

Snow continued to rummage through the back of sedan. "Well, you never know. Besides, there's no point in worrying about what could have been or what should have been. We just have to do our best with what is."

Sazh was about to reply when Serah's head poked out the front door. "Stop talking and come help me and Dajh carry the things over to the car. We've finished packing up, so once it's in the car, we can go." She paused and her lips curved up into a teasing smile. "And don't forget to go to the toilet first – stopping isn't exactly safe."

Snow grimaced and Sazh had to swallow a laugh. Even simple things like going to the toilet could be dangerous. The Infected just had a knack for catching people when they were off guard, and it was hard for a man to aim a gun when his pants were undone.

"That happened once," Snow grumbled. "Just once."

"Once is too much." Sazh walked over and gave Snow a pat on the shoulder. "Now come on, let's go give them a hand." He looked toward the door and hurried over as Dajh emerged with a pile of blankets almost as tall as he was.

X X X

The going was slower than Sazh would have liked. The snow had stopped, but there was still plenty of it on the road to contend with. Since the four-wheel drive was better suited to dealing with the snow, he and Dajh had to go in front with Serah and Snow following behind in their sedan.

Still, Serah had been right. The road was almost deserted, and the town itself didn't seem all that far away. In fact, he could see the edges of it through the window. It was built on a big patch of flat earth near the base of the winding hills, although all the snow made it hard to make out too much. Beside him, Dajh was running his fingers up and down Chirpy's back, as he looked back and forth for any signs of trouble. It was a good way of keeping the boy's mind occupied, and it never hurt to have an extra pair of eyes on the lookout for danger.

As the day turned into early afternoon, they reached the outskirts of the town. With all the snow covering everything, it took Sazh a while to notice what was wrong. Beneath the snow, the whole town was nothing more than a burnt out ruin. Fire had ripped through, burning everything to the ground. It had probably kept burning right up until winter hit and all the snow came.

"This doesn't look good," Sazh whispered as he eased the four-wheel drive along the street. There weren't too many abandoned cars to worry, but several buildings had collapsed from the fire and the snow, and the debris littered the street.

"Will there be anything left, daddy?" Dajh asked softly.

"Sure, son, sure." Sazh nodded firmly. "No matter how bad it looks, there's always something left that we can use. We just have to look hard enough." He put on a grin. "Remember this morning? It's just like with Serah and those chocolates."

Dajh grinned back. "Okay." He peered out the window intently, brows furrowed. "I'll look super hard then."

Sazh smiled, but it was a bittersweet smile. Good, at least his son could still think like that. But as they went on, things continued to look bleak. The fire really had levelled the town. They stopped a few times, but each stop came up empty. The last place had literally been nothing more than a pile of ash and cement. He took a deep breath. According to Serah, the next town was still a few days away, so if they didn't find something here then they'd been in real trouble.

But then they saw the shopping mall. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at how much the sight of it relieved him. It wasn't all that large, and it was an ugly looking thing, but most importantly of all, it was still standing. It had to have been the car park – it was large and with the wide roads on all sides, it must have been just enough to keep the shopping mall from catching fire like everything else.

"Look, daddy!" Dajh cried. "It's still there."

Sazh blinked back tears. "Yes, it is."

He eased the four-wheel drive as close to the main entrance as he was comfortable with and then pulled up.

"All right, son, let's go." Sazh gave Dajh a pat on the shoulder. "But first, remember what we always do?"

Dajh nodded. "Yes."

Routine – that was what had kept him and Dajh alive so far. Always check that he had everything before he left the car. Always check that it was safe before he got out. And always check that he could find his way back in case they needed to leave in a hurry. Serah had once told him that he reminded her a lot of her sister, although apparently, her sister was even more of a stickler for routine than him – and that was before the Infection.

Satisfied that everything was ready, Sazh opened the door and climbed out of the car. A few moments later, Serah and Snow came over to meet him. They were parked a short distance away. It was a safety measure. If one of the cars ever got surrounded at least the other might be far enough to get away.

"So," Snow asked. "How do you think we should do this?" Like Sazh, he preferred using a shotgun. It was easier to aim, and its stopping power was invaluable. Even if the first shot didn't kill the Infected outright, it would usually do enough damage to take them out of the fight.

Sazh studied the shopping mall for a moment. Serah and Snow had their own way of doing things, but Snow always made a point of asking for Sazh's advice. He'd survived with Dajh for this long, so clearly he knew what he was doing.

"I guess that depends on how quickly we need to get this done," Sazh said quietly. "If we all go in, we could get things done more quickly, but there's a problem with that." His eyes narrowed. "The Infected don't like the cold, but all the noise we've been making has probably drawn at least a few out. If no one stays back to watch the cars, we could find ourselves cut off."

Snow nodded grimly. That had almost happened once before, back when it was just him and Serah, and neither of them wanted to repeat the experience. "That's a good point."

Serah looked around and shivered. The parking lot looked deserted, but the Infected were always there, just waiting for them to get careless. "I'll stay and watch the cars."

Sazh glanced at the hunting rifle in Serah's arms. It was a powerful gun, and with the scope that Serah had managed to find for it, she could hit a target from more than a hundred yards without too much trouble. It might not be good for a straight up fight in close quarters, but it was ideal for keeping watch.

"All right," Sazh said. He tilted his head at the four-wheel drive. "I've got another shotgun in the backseat of my car. It's not quite as good as the one I'm carrying, but you're welcome to borrow it." In case the Infected managed to get close – but he wasn't going to say that with Dajh around. The boy would be heartbroken if anything happened to Serah or Snow.

"Thanks, I'll keep it with me." Serah looked at Dajh. "Do you want to leave him here with me?"

Sazh hesitated. It was a tempting offer, and he did trust Serah, but Dajh was his son. The boy had also gotten very good at making sense of Chirpy's little quirks, and he was also quite good at telling if any food they found was good to eat or not. "No, but thanks. I'll bring him and Snow with me."

"Okay." Serah walked over to Snow and pulled him down into a kiss. If there was something a little desperate about it, Sazh knew better than to say so. "You come back, Snow, all right?"

Snow grinned. "I'll be fine. What kind of man could resist coming back to you? Besides, I've got Sazh with me too, and Dajh and Chirpy aren't exactly slouches either." The boy smiled and the bird gave a squawk of approval. Snow swallowed thickly. "Just… be careful out here, Serah. And keep an eye on things. If… if something goes bad, then just take our car and go. I can always hitch a ride with Sazh if I need to."

Serah bit her lip but nodded. It was something she and Snow had talked about. If it came down to it, he didn't want her to come back for him. He wanted her to live. "It better not come to that."

Sazh took a deep breath and lifted his shotgun. "That's enough talking, I think. Let's get a move on."

The front doors of the shopping mall were barred shut, but a few good kicks from Snow were enough to break them open. Inside, it was mostly dark, but what little light there was came from several skylights that had broken from the weight of all the snow. Sazh immediately looked for a map of the place, something that was usually near the doors. His lips curled. He'd spent so much time pawing through shopping malls that he even had a routine for that. Lahna would have found that pretty funny, considering the fact that he'd hated shopping.

"We'll try the supermarket first," Sazh said. "It's up on the first floor, not too far from the escalators. But keep your eyes open. We don't have the time to search this whole place, and there's no telling if the escalator have been damaged. If we pass anything you think might be useful, tell me, but food and water come first."

Snow nodded. "Right." He lifted his shotgun and pointed it into the twilight ahead, the flashlight taped to the barrel lighting the way. "Remember when shopping malls weren't creepy?"

Sazh chuckled. "Snow, when you're married, every shopping mall looks creepy." He caught Dajh's curious look and smiled. "You'll understand when you're older, son."

They walked over to the escalators with Sazh in the lead. Behind him was Dajh with Chirpy tucked into his jacket pocket, and bringing up the rear was Snow. It was the safest way to move with Dajh there, and it left the boy free to keep a close eye on their surroundings, his flashlight in constant motion.

The escalator gave a deep grown and shuddered as they climbed up it, and Sazh breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached the top. He didn't know how often escalators needed maintenance, but he'd bet it had been months since this one had seen any work. Hopefully, it would last long enough for them to get what they need, but if it didn't, there was another escalator on the other end of the shopping mall that they could use.

The supermarket wasn't far from the escalators, and it seemed to take up most of the first floor. Sazh called a halt just outside the entrance. The lights weren't working, and there was debris and rubbish scattered everywhere along with used ammunition. Clearly, people had tried to live here, maybe even made a stand, but there was no sign of them now. His eyes narrowed. He couldn't see any bodies, and there didn't seem to be any blood. What had happened here?

"Wait here," Sazh murmured as he darted over to grab three empty cans off the floor. He handed one to Snow and another one to Dajh. He kept the last one for himself. "We'll throw these into the supermarket. I'll throw mine to the left, Dajh, you throw yours in the middle, and Snow, throw yours to the right." He paused. "If anything comes out, say something. If it doesn't reply, shoot it."

Snow's jaw tightened. "Got it."

On the count of three, they tossed their cans together. The cans rattled noisily into the darkness, and Sazh raised his voice. "Is anyone there? If you are, say something, otherwise we will shoot you." He didn't want to shoot any survivors unless she had to. They might be scum like the men who'd tried to force themselves on Serah, but they could also be decent people like her and Snow. There was no reply. He pointed his shotgun ahead, and the flashlight attached to the barrel illuminated row after row of almost empty shelves. "It looks like we're the only people up here." But of course, the Infected didn't count as people, not in his book.

They took a few steps toward the entrance before Dajh tugged on Sazh's jacket. "Daddy," the boy said. "I think there's something in there. Chirpy thinks so."

Sazh glanced down at the chocobo. The bird was shivering like he always did near the Infected. "Thanks, son." He looked at Snow. "I'll go in first then Dajh and then you. I look forward, and you look behind. Dajh, you and Chirpy need to tell us if you notice anything." He swept his shotgun over the entrance. "We'll get a trolley first, and then we'll go for the food and water. After that is ammunition. Anything else can wait until after."

Snow nodded and pursed his lips. He was nervous, not that Sazh blamed him. At least outside, they could see the Infected coming. "That sounds fine. Let's just get this over with."

The trio walked to the nearest trolley, and Sazh took a few moments to ensure that it was in good enough condition for what they had in mind. The battered trolley creaked noisily, but it was otherwise sound, which was more than could be said for some of the others he saw. With one hand on the trolley, he led the group toward the far end of the supermarket – from experience, he knew that almost all supermarkets put the canned goods toward the end.

All around them, the supermarket was dark and quiet, the silence broken only be the squeaking of the trolley and their own laboured breathing. As Sazh moved his shotgun back and forth, the flashlight on the barrel revealed a scene that was at once heart breaking and familiar. There were empty cans and food wrappers scattered around along with used ammunition. There were splatters of blood too as well as the occasional corpse. Written on the walls were names and dates – a last attempt by whoever had stayed here to be remembered. What was different, however, was the message spray-painted over the checkout counters and across the dirty linoleum floor: KEEP OUT.

Sazh's lips curled. Keep out? Was that supposed to be some kind of warning? And if it was, why weren't there more warnings outside? Never mind. Maybe the people here had gone mad toward the end. It certainly wouldn't have been surprising. Turning into the next aisle, Sazh brought the trolley to a stop beside one of the shelves. A quick glance showed that the shelves were far from full, but there were still dozens of cans left over. If even half of these were still good, they'd have enough to last them a few weeks.

"Looks like our lucky day," Sazh murmured, grinning at Snow. "All right, Dajh, start looking through those. Get rid of anything that doesn't seem good. Snow and I will keep watch."

As the boy quickly began going through all of the cans, tossing the good ones into the trolley, Sazh's hands tightened on his shotgun. This was the most dangerous part of the trip. With all the noise the cans were making, it would be tough, if not impossible, to hear one of the Infected sneaking up on them. But going through the cans more carefully would take far longer, and time was not something they had. If the weather took a turn for the worse, they might end up stuck here, and he would bet everything he owned that there were at least a few Infected still around. If they had to stay somewhere, then somewhere smaller was better. That way they could clear it out and make sure that everything was safe. The shopping mall though, was just too big.

"How's it going, son?" Sazh murmured.

Dajh made a happy sound, but continued going through the cans. "I found a few cans of spaghetti – they're still good too. I even found some vegetable soup." He made a face. "But some of the cans were broken, daddy, so I threw them away." He paused. "I'll be done soon, daddy."

"Good." Sazh nodded. "You're a good boy, Dajh, and a better son than I deserve."

A few minutes later they were done going through the cans. Their next stop was for some water, but the bottled stuff was a few aisles over, closer to the front entrance. Maybe it was the ease with which they'd gotten the cans, or maybe it was just them getting careless, whatever it was, they were almost to the water when it happened. Chirpy gave a frightened trill and there was a sound like leather dragging across the ground. A split-second later, something shot out of the darkness and rammed into Sazh.

He tumbled back and slammed into one of the shelves. The shelf came loose and the whole thing clattered down on top of him. One edge of the shelf caught him in the leg, and he bit back a scream as pain flared in his ankle. Damn it! But then there was no more time to think, no more time to worry about the pain, as a snarling face appeared in the darkness above him. It was one of the Infected, and at one point it had been a young woman. The Infected clawed at his face and Sazh jerked the shotgun up to try and shove it off. But the Infected was strong for its size, and Sazh bit back another cry as it slammed his head against the ground.

"Sazh!" Snow bellowed. "Hold on!"

A second later, Sazh could see again. The Infected was gone, tossed aside by Snow. He scrambled to his feet, hissing as he almost fell. He didn't think his ankle was broken, but he'd definitely done something to it. There was a boom and Snow's shotgun tore the upper half of the Infected apart.

"Are you all right?" Snow asked as he helped Sazh steady himself. "Damn it, where did that one come from?"

Sazh hobbled forward, pushing Dajh behind him. "Over there, I think." He lifted his shotgun. On the other side of the supermarket was a door wedged half shut. It probably led to the storerooms or perhaps down to the loading area of the car park. "Come on, we need to get that door closed now. I can hear more of them."

Snow nodded and the three of them headed for the open door.

"They're coming, daddy!" Dajh cried as more Infected appeared, a pair of them rushing through the open door. "Look!"

Sazh clenched his jaw. Those warnings on the walls and on the floor… someone must have tried to lock the Infected in here. It had worked too, until the three of them had arrived and driven the Infected into enough of a frenzy to break through the door. "Quick, start shooting! We need to keep them bottled up at the door. If they get out…"

Snow needed no further explanation. With a growl, he lifted his shotgun and fired. The pair of oncoming Infected were tossed back through the door by the blast, and Sazh added his own fire to the mix. But already more Infected were trying to force their way through the door. Sazh grit his teeth and fired again and again, and beside him Snow blazed away as well. The Infected were too tightly packed in the doorway for them to miss, but still there seemed to be no end to them.

"This is crazy," Snow muttered. "Just how many are there?"

"Don't think about that," Sazh replied. "Just pick your shots." He glanced over at the wall near the door. There were several shelves bolted to the walls, but with enough force, they could probably be ripped loose. "The shelves, Snow! Get the shelves! Use them to block up the doorway. I'll cover you."

"Right!" Snow moved toward the shelves, his shotgun spitting death as he closed the gap.

Sazh was only a few steps behind Snow, and as the big man reached the shelves, Sazh took up a position only a few yards from the door. The bodies of the Infected were piled in it, and those behind had to fight to try and get through. He felt his stomach clench. This was the stuff of nightmares. If he'd been on his own, he might have run, but Dajh was there, and he'd never turn his back on the Infected, not when his son was in danger.

"Hurry up Snow!" Sazh growled.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" There was a harsh, grating sound as Snow ripped one shelf off the wall. "Can you get that door closed?"

Sazh strode forward and kicked the pile of Infected blocking the door. The pile of bodies lurched back, and he fired his shotgun right into the faces of the closest Infected. They tumbled away, their heads blown apart, and he reached for the door. It was a battered thing, and broken in places, but with a bit of luck, he might be able to get it closed. He grabbed the handle and pulled.

"Come on," Sazh muttered as he tossed his shotgun aside. The weapon was empty and there would be no time to reload. Instead, he drew his pistol and continued to fire into the mass of Infected trying to block the door. The pistol leapt in his hands, and he saw several Infected jerk back. It didn't matter if they were dead or not, he just needed them out of the way. With a final groan of effort, he dragged the door shut. "Now, Snow!"

"Got it." Snow grabbed the shelf and threw it in front of the door. The pile of metal thumped down in front of the door. "Help me get the other shelves!"

Sazh nodded and together he and Snow tore the other shelves off the wall and piled them in front of the battered door. Behind the tangled mass of metal, the Infected continued to shriek and roar, but they seemed unable to push their way past.

"Good," Sazh murmured as he picked his shotgun off the ground and reloaded it. "That should hold them."

Snow reloaded his own weapon and leaned against the wall. "What now?"

"We finish shopping." Sazh went over and pulled Dajh into his arms. "We've come this far, and we can't afford to leave without getting everything we need." He chanced a look at their makeshift barricade. "Besides, even if they do manage to get past that, we should be able to fight them off long enough to get out of here."

"That sounds risky though," Snow replied. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Sazh looked back at the supermarket. "We might not get another chance to pick up supplies for a while. We have to make the most of this."

"All right." Snow stood and reached for the trolley. "Let's get this over with then."

They filled the trolley as best they could, but the experience was not one that Sazh particularly cared for. It was hard to keep from looking in the direction of the barricaded door, especially as the howls and wails of the Infected only seemed to grow louder and louder. They could smell food and the frustration of not being able to get at it must have been driving them insane. Still, despite how unpleasant the experience was, Sazh and the others had no choice but to repeat it. It took them two more trips to get everything they needed from the supermarket – two more trips that were only made harder by Sazh's injury. His ankle wasn't broken, he was sure of that, but it hurt to put too much weight on it. In a few days maybe a week, it would be fine, but for now, he'd just have to hobble along. Serah had offered to take his place, but someone needed to keep watch over the cars. Already she'd been forced to drop a few Infected in the car park with her hunting rifle, and she was a better shot with it than he would ever be.

As late afternoon rolled in, they decided to make on last trip into the shopping mall. There was a children's shoe store on the first floor, and Dajh could really use a new pair of shoes. The odds were pretty good that they'd find some too – shoes were one of the last things that people took.

They got to the shoe store, and Sazh grabbed a few pairs of shoes in Dajh's size along with several others a bit bigger. The boy was growing, and there was no telling when they'd come across some more shoes. To make things easier, he took the shoes out of their boxes and put them into a large backpack that Snow had brought along. For a man as big as Snow, a few pairs of shoes would weigh nothing at all. However, just as they were turning to leave, there was a tremendous crash. Quickly, they hurried out to see what had happened, but deep down in his gut, Sazh already knew, and the knowledge was like poison.

There, in the fragile light coming through the skylights, was a horde of Infected. They shambled forward, picking up speed as they caught sight of Sazh and the others. Sazh's jaw clenched. The Infected were coming from the direction of the supermarket. They must have piled up behind the barricade growing more and more frantic until finally there were enough of them to just shove through. If he and Snow had been in the supermarket, they would have noticed in time to thin the numbers a little, but now… now they were in real trouble.

"Sazh," Snow murmured. "We should run."

Sazh nodded slowly, but already he could feel a grim sense of certainty taking hold of him. The supermarket was right next to the escalator and that meant the Infected were between them and the main entrance. The only other escalator down to the ground floor was on the opposite side of the first floor.

"Daddy?" Dajh murmured, tugging at Sazh's sleeve. "Daddy, what do we do?"

Sazh looked down at his son. They could run, but they'd never make it to the escalator, not when Sazh could only hobble along. He almost wanted to laugh. A busted ankle? They were going to die because of a stupid busted ankle. That was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. It made him want to cry. But they didn't all have to die, did they? There was still something he could do, maybe the last thing he would ever do.

"Snow," Sazh whispered. "Take Dajh and go. I'll lure them away and the two of you should have enough time to get to the other escalator. Once you do, double back to the main entrance and leave."

Snow stared. "What? Are you crazy? What about you?"

Sazh limped forward and raised his shotgun. The Infected were getting closer and there wasn't any more time to waste. "With this ankle? I'll never make it and you know that. At least this way… at least this way you two can get out."

"I'll carry you," Snow said. "Damn it, Sazh. I'm not leaving you."

"You're strong, Snow, but not that strong." Sazh turned to face the other man. His lips twitched. "Promise me, Snow. Promise me that you'll look after my boy."

Snow's jaw clenched and then he looked away. "Fine. Damn it." He grabbed Dajh and flung him over his shoulder. "You deserve better than this, Sazh!"

Sazh chuckled softly. "We all do." He looked at Dajh. "Be a good boy, Dajh. One day… one day you'll understand why it had to be like this. This… this is just what fathers do." He shoved Snow. "Now go, damn it."

"No!" Dajh screamed, kicking and fighting as he finally realised exactly what Sazh was doing. Snow gave Sazh one last look and then broke into a jagged run for the other escalator. "Daddy, no!"

Sazh turned back to face the Infected as Snow carried away the last good thing in his life. Slowly, he reached for the knife at his side and cut into his upper arm. It wasn't deep enough to damage the muscle, but it was deep enough to bleed, and bleed a lot. He smeared the blood across his shirt and tossed some more onto the ground. Good. The smell of it would drive the Infected wild. They wouldn't even give Snow and Dajh a second glance.

The Infected were getting close now, but Sazh wasn't ready to die just yet. He needed to buy Snow and Dajh as much time as he could. Biting back a grimace of pain, he hobbled toward a nearby restaurant. He wouldn't be safe there, but at least it would be better than fighting all of the Infected out in the open. He'd make them work for their meal.

X X X

Snow burst out of the main entrance of the shopping mall, Dajh sobbing inconsolably on his shoulder.

Damn it.

Damn it.

Damn it.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Serah took one look at him and Dajh and hopped off the hood of their car. "Snow? What's happening? Where's Sazh?"

Snow grit his teeth. "We need to go, Serah. The Infected got out."

"But what about Sazh?" Serah asked.

"He… he stayed behind so that we could get out." Snow gave Dajh to Serah. Almost at once, the boy threw his arms around Serah, and Snow had to fight to keep from crying as the boy's sobs grew more and more violent. Dajh's little body was shaking so hard that Serah could barely keep a hold of him. "We need to go now, before they come out here as well." He looked at Serah and his shoulders heaved helplessly. "Damn it, Serah. He told me to go. He told me took look after Dajh, and then he told me to go. Damn it!"

"All right." Serah blinked back tears. Sazh was gone… just like that. "I'll take Dajh. You take Sazh's four-wheel drive." She swallowed thickly. They needed to keep thinking. The worst thing they could do now was die. If that happened, Sazh would have died for nothing. Her jaw clenched. But really… he shouldn't have had to die at all. She should have forced him to switch places with her after he hurt his ankle. Why hadn't she done that?

"Serah!" Snow said. "Come on!"

Serah nodded. "Okay… okay."

Snow hopped into the four-wheel drive and led the way as they drove away from the shopping mall. His hands were so tight around the steering wheel that he was afraid he might break it. He shouldn't have left Sazh. Even if it was hopeless, even if it was impossible, he shouldn't have left him. He snarled and jammed his foot on the brakes. Serah pulled up to him and then stopped.

"What's going on?" Serah asked, winding down her window.

Snow dragged in a deep breath. It had only been a few minutes since they'd left the shopping mall. There was still time. There had to be. He looked at Serah and then at Dajh. The boy's eyes were red and he was clutching Chirpy to his chest like a lifeline. "I… I have to go back, Serah. I know he said to go, and I know it's stupid, but I believe in him. He won't die, not while Dajh is still. He can't die." He clenched his fists. "I'm going to go get him because I know he'd do the same for any one of us."

Serah's lips quivered. "All right." This was the reason she'd fallen in love with Snow. "But be careful." She looked ahead. "There's a bridge just out of town. We'll meet there. Okay?"

Snow nodded and then looked at Dajh. "Sit tight, kid. I'm going to get your father back."

X X X

Sazh bit back a curse and continued reloading his shotgun. His ankle felt like it was about to break in half, and he was covered in bruises from where the Infected had clawed at him, and from where he'd bumped into things. Right now though, he was holed up inside an abandoned restaurant on the first floor. He'd managed to jam the doors shut, but it was only a matter of time before the Infected got in. He had a minute, maybe two, and then they'd have him. There was nowhere left to run. He smiled softly. At least none of the Infected had gone after Snow and Dajh. As long as his son made it then maybe he hadn't done too badly. He could die content that he'd done his best, and if there were an afterlife, then maybe Lahna wouldn't be too disappointed in him.

"I tried," he whispered. "I really did. But sometimes trying isn't enough."

He heard the sound of breaking glass as the Infected smashed the doors, and he raised his shotgun. It was funny… he was almost out of ammunition, although it probably wouldn't matter much.

"Stop wasting time," he growled. "Come and get me!"

The Infected surged forward and he hobbled back, firing as he went. His shotgun leapt in his hands and the closest Infected went down, its head and left shoulder blown away. A second shot ripped another Infected in half at the waist in a vile spray of blood and gore. He laughed, eyes blazing, and fired again and again until the shotgun clicked empty.

He was backed right up against the wide, tall windows that made up one wall of the restaurant. Pale orange light poured in from behind him as he dropped his shotgun and reached for his pistol and knife. He might be a dead man, but he wouldn't make it easy for them.

He stabbed the first Infected in the face and then shot another in the chest before the third leapt toward him. The sheer force of it drove him back into the window, and there was a crash as the glass broke. Then he was falling, falling, falling.

Thump.

He hit the ground hard and lay there, battered and dazed as the Infected on top of him reared back. His vision swam, and suddenly all he could see was the sky. It was beautiful, a vast expanse of orange and yellow streaked with grey. It was the colour of the sky at dusk, the colour of the sky just between winter and spring. It wasn't a bad sky to die under.

BLAM.

The Infected hurtled back and something hauled him up to his feet. For a moment, Sazh struggled until he found himself looking into a familiar pair of blue eyes. Snow. The big man grinned and then dragged him over to the four-wheel drive. Then he hit the gas pedal.

"What?" Sazh muttered as he fought to stay conscious. His back hurt, his legs hurt, heck, all of him hurt. He was also bleeding from several cuts he'd taken from the glass.

"I came back for you," Snow said simply. "I couldn't leave you behind." He winced. "Never thought you'd come flying through a window though."

"Didn't have much choice." Sazh blinked, but could barely keep his eyes open. "Dajh?"

"He's fine," Snow said. "He's with Serah." He glanced over at Sazh whose head had begun to sag. "Come on, Sazh, stay awake. Stay with me."

But Sazh couldn't. His eyes slipped shut and he slumped forward against the dashboard.

Beside him, Snow cursed and reached over to check his pulse. Good. Sazh was unconscious, but he still had a pulse. Still, he looked pretty beat up. Snow pursed his lips. He needed to hurry then. Serah would know what to do. She'd learned a lot from patching her sister up since the older woman absolutely hated hospitals.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

So… I bet some of you thought I was going to kill Sazh. To be honest, I seriously considered letting him die, but I decided to keep him alive. The world is a bad enough place as it is. I don't to make it any worse for the characters. That said don't expect the next few chapters to be all sunshine and rainbows. As you can probably tell, we're getting closer to the end now, although I won't say just how many chapters are left.

Now, one of the things I've come to realise about this story is how much the way the characters are grouped has influenced the feel of each chapter. In this regard, the Vanille and Lightning chapters are some of my favourites because both of them are just skirting the edge of insanity and it's never clear if they're helping each other or making things worse. But, I have a real soft spot for Sazh in this story. He's doing the best he can, and in Serah and Snow, he's finally met two fundamentally decent people that he can trust. So, it isn't that surprising that they're kind of playing 'happy families'. All four of them (Sazh, Dajh, Snow, and Serah) miss the way things were and even if they're not really a family, sort of pretending makes it easier to deal with things. It's one of the reasons Chirpy is so valuable. He doesn't just notice the Infected, he's also a pet, and if people can keep a pet then surely things aren't so bad.

To people wondering why Snow would go back, I would reply that he is simply that kind of person. He might have listened to Sazh at first and run, but everything that makes Snow who he is would have been horrified at leaving the older man behind. Snow had no way of really knowing that Sazh would still be alive, but if he hadn't at least tried, he would never have been able to live with himself.

Finally, I would also like to direct anyone that might be interested toward utena11221's profile on deviant art. They've got a great picture up of Lightning talking to Bhakti (it's based on Chapter 8). Give them a little love, and if any of you have any artwork, just let me know and I'll see if I can send some people your way. If you can't find the profile, just google 'confessions wasteland deviant art'.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Nora took one hand off the steering wheel and reached down to run one hand over the scar on her side. It had taken weeks before she'd been able to move around without much pain, and even now there were still times when the old wound ached. Her lips twitched. If her scar ached then rain probably wasn't far away.

But a bit of pain wasn't too bad all things considered. If things had gone even a little bit differently she would be dead, and she wasn't stupid enough to think that Hope would last long without her. But they'd lucked out and run into Lebreau and the others.

She smiled faintly. Choosing to follow Lebreau and the others had been one of the easiest decisions she'd had to make in a long time. They were headed to the coast, away from Eden City. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was better than nothing, and there did seem to be less Infected away from the big cities. There was safety in numbers too, and even though she'd been a little wary of the others despite all they'd done for her and Hope, they'd earned their trust over a long, brutal winter.

Increased safety wasn't the only nice thing about being around other people. She loved her son dearly, but Hope was still a teenager, and she was still his mother. There were some things that they just couldn't talk about, and even though Yuj and Maqui were older than him, the age gap wasn't so large that they couldn't get along.

And then there were Lebreau and Gadot. Nora had been carrying a lot on her chest for a long time now, and she'd steadfastly refused to burden Hope with any of her worries. But Lebreau and Gadot weren't children. They understood what the stakes were. They understood just how hopeless the situation was. And even if saying the words out loud was a little scary, there was a comfort in being able to talk to people who understood.

"It's nice that it's getting warmer again," Hope said, staring idly out the window.

Nora smiled and glanced over at her son. The winter had not been kind, and the coming of spring had left Hope in a much better mood. Perhaps it helped that he didn't have to worry about freezing to death. "It's not that warm yet, but you're right, it's a lot better than it has been." She looked ahead. "We'd never be able to drive along here during the winter."

Hope grimaced and followed her gaze. "You're probably right about that."

Nora chuckled. Right now, they were cruising behind Lebreau's four-wheel drive, the two vehicles headed up into the mountains that cut much of the country in half. They could have gone around, but that would have added weeks to the trip, and the longer they were out on the road, the more danger they were in. But during the winter, most of the mountain roads had been covered in snow, so they'd been forced to wait for the spring thaw to continue toward the coast.

But now, things were almost pleasant. The trees that clung to the mountains were a lush green, and the cool, crisp air would have been refreshing if it weren't for the grim solitude that seemed to cling to everything. Supposedly, there was a town not too far from here where they might be able to resupply, which was lucky since they'd been running low for a while now.

"Think we'll find anything good?" Hope asked. He wasn't picky – not anymore – but it would be nice to have something other than instant noodles or canned soup. He'd give almost anything for a freshly made hamburger with fries. And pizza… he'd wade through an army of Infected for a slice.

"Maybe." Nora reached over to ruffle his hair. She'd been more affectionate with him since her injury – almost dying had put his teenage reticence into perspective – and for his part, he didn't seem much inclined to stop her. The first few weeks, he'd even refused to let her out of his sight, and he'd steadfastly demanded shooting lessons from Lebreau who seemed to have a knack for firearms. Bartenders, it seemed, had to be good at a lot of things. "Remember, we usually have better luck with the smaller towns. But we need to be careful. The warmer weather means that the Infected are probably going to become more active again."

Hope shuddered. The winter had been horrible, but at least the biting cold had slowed the Infected down. "Well, let's hope we don't run into any."

Nora nodded, but inside, she couldn't help but wonder how much luck they had left. Just meeting Lebreau and the others was a miracle.

About an hour later, they reached the outskirts of the town. It was a small place, tucked away between two large hills, and built more to accommodate seasonal tourists than any large, permanent population. The streets had been badly damaged by months of neglect, but there didn't seem to be too much debris. Still, there was a deep silence over the place that did not bode well, and she had yet to see any of the local wildlife. That was a bad sign because only the Infected could keep animals from scavenging in the ruins.

They followed Lebreau and the others toward the centre of town, which was where most places tend to have a supermarket. As they dodged potholes and cracks in the road, Nora caught sight of a large manor near the edge of town. It was probably a vacation home for someone wealthy, and there was even a wooden bridge across the fast flowing river that separated the manor from the rest of town. A lifetime ago, she and Bart had wanted to buy something like that to retire in. She bit her lip. He was gone now, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Suddenly, there was movement at the very edges of her vision. She turned, and her eyes widened in horror. About a dozen Infected had poured out of the buildings alongside them. A low growl left her lips. The warmer weather must have given them a new lease on life, and after months without a decent meal, they were probably hungry – and she and the others were the meal.

"Mom!" Hope shouted. "We need to get out of here!"

Nora needed no further urging, and neither did Lebreau. The other woman slammed her foot on the gas pedal and the four-wheel drive tore down the road, bouncing wildly over cracks and potholes as Nora did her best to keep up. More Infected – where were they coming from? – appeared at the end of the street and hurled themselves at the four-wheel drive. The first few bounced off, but the fourth smashed right through the windshield.

The four-wheel drive jerked hard to one side as the Infected clawed at Lebreau. A moment later, the vehicle swerved right into a power pole. There was a screech as the front of the four-wheel drive crumpled before the vehicle spun away, the power pole toppling to the ground in a shower of broken wood right in front of Nora's car. She cursed wildly and tried to steer around the power pole. She failed, and suddenly, her whole world was crumpling metal and breaking glass.

She screamed and felt a stab of pain in her neck as her seatbelt stopped her from going right through the broken windshield. The car shuddered to a halt, and she shook her head to try and clear it. Her vision wavered, and she groaned. The car wouldn't be going anywhere – the entire front was smashed in. And behind them, she could hear the Infected shrieking as they closed in.

"Hope!" she cried, quickly looking her son over for any injuries. He looked a little dazed, but apart from a small cut on his forehead from broken glass, he seemed all right. Thank the Maker. "Hope, we need to get out of here right now. Get your weapons." 

She grabbed her shotgun, a pistol, and a knife, and unbuckled her seatbelt. The driver's side door was jammed, and she hissed as she kicked it once, twice, and then a third time. When it still refused to give, she used the butt of the shotgun to smash out the rest of the windshield so that she and Hope could crawl out.

"What about the supplies, mom?" Hope asked. His eyes had cleared a little, though he seemed a tad unsteady on his feet. Concussion? She hoped not because they needed to run and run fast.

Nora tossed a quick look over at Lebreau and the others. Like hers, their car was not about to go anywhere soon.

"Forget most of it!" Lebreau shouted as she put a bullet in the head of the Infected who'd caused the crash. She pointed at the swarm of Infected heading their way. "See that? That means we run. Grab anything light and run. Leave behind anything heavy."

Nora darted over to the boot of the car and grabbed two backpacks out of it. She'd thought Lebreau was a little paranoid for making everyone stow things away in backpacks, but right now, it was about to pay off. She slung one over her shoulder and thrust the other at Hope. "Come on, we need to move."

"Make for the bridge," Lebreau shouted, waving at the manor. "We can't fight this many Infected out in the open."

Nora nodded grimly and pushed Hope toward the bridge. "Go, Hope. Run!"

They turned and ran, their footsteps pounding on the pavement. Pain rippled through her side and neck with each step, but she forced it back. She couldn't afford to slow them down right now, but try as she might, she felt the pain in her side grow. Damn it, she still hadn't healed fully, and the car crash hadn't helped. Gasping, her foot caught on a crack in the street and she tripped, sprawling awkwardly across the ground.

"Mom!" Hope screamed as he stopped and grabbed her. His voice was frantic. "Come on, mom!"

She stumbled to her feet and shoved him forward as she lifted her shotgun and fired into the pack of Infected. A few went down, but the others continued their relentless advance.

"Not here," Hope pleaded, grabbing her arm. "We need to get to the bridge."

Nora grit her teeth. The bridge was only a hundred and fifty feet away. She could make it. Beating back the pain, she continued to run raggedly up the street, afraid to look behind her. As they got closer to the bridge, Lebreau and the others turned and fired to try and buy them a little more time. Then they were on the bridge, and Nora nearly dropped to her knees. Only the cries of the Infected kept her standing as she turned to fight. There were dozens of Infected coming for them, but the bridge was narrow, and that might just give her and the others a fighting chance.

"Shoot!" Lebreau roared as she brought her rifle up and fired in several short, sharp bursts. The weapon jerked in her grasp, but her aim was good, and for every two or three shots she fired, another one of the Infected went down. But the Infected hardly seemed to care. They were in a frenzy now, screaming and wailing as they clawed past the dead and hurled themselves forward.

"Don't let them get close!" Gadot shouted.

But even as everyone in the group opened fire, the Infected continued to press forward. Nora fired her shotgun again and again, but the outcome of the battle was already clear to her. In a few minutes, maybe less, they'd run out of ammunition and be overrun. She stopped to reload, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted a low hanging branch. Her eyes widened, and she turned –

"Gadot!" Nora shouted. "That tree, the one next to us, can you bring it down?"

The big man looked at her for a moment. Instead of a knife, he had a fireman's axe strapped to his back. "What?" he blurted. "We kind of have other things to worry about right now."

Nora fired into the pack of Infected. "The bridge," Nora cried. "The Infected can't swim and the river below it is pretty big. If you can bring that tree down on the bridge…"

"Do it!" Lebreau roared. "And quickly." She looked around. "And give Hope your shotgun, Gadot. It's about time he put some of my lessons to work."

Gadot nodded and tossed the weapon at Hope before rushing over to the tree. Lips set into a firm line, Hope lifted the shotgun and fired. He hissed and Nora knew his shoulder would be aching later, but she felt a surge of pride as he narrowed his eyes and lined the shotgun up for another shot. He was just a boy, but he was her boy, and he could do what needed doing. Not far away, Maqui and Yuj were also shooting, Maqui with a pair of pistols and Yuj with a single revolver.

"I really hope your idea works," Lebreau growled as Gadot began to hammer away at the tree. "Otherwise, we're all going to die here." The woman's lips curved up as she dropped another one of the Infected. "Not that we'll be dying alone."

"It will work," Nora said firmly. "None of us are going to die today."

But those were just words, and there seemed to be no end to the Infected. For every one they killed, another two seemed to take its place. The pile of bodies on the bridge was already so big that the Infected had to clamber over their fallen brethren, hissing and shrieking before they flung themselves at Nora and the others. And if things weren't bad enough, they were beginning to run low on ammunition. They had some in their backpacks, but most of it was still in the cars.

"Damn it, Gadot," Lebreau bellowed. "What's taking you so long?"

"I'm almost there." Gadot heaved the axe around in one more tremendous blow and there was a sharp crack of splintering wood. "Stand back!"

Nora fired one last shot and then turned to see Gadot throw himself at the tree. With its trunk deeply cut, the tree gave an ominous creak and then broke in two. A full three quarters of the tree slammed down onto the bridge, and after everything it had endured over the winter, the bridge snapped like kindling.

The Infected tumbled into the river, and the swiftly flowing current swept them away. A few managed to make it to the other side, but Nora and the others made short work of them. With a sigh, she slumped to her knees, her heart hammering as loud as thunder.

"That was a pretty good idea there, mom." Nora blinked as Lebreau reached over to help her up. It was a bit of a joke between them, given that their group looked like some kind of dysfunctional family.

Nora took Lebreau's hand and chuckled. "Well, mom's can be pretty clever when they have to be." She winced. She'd scraped both her knees quite badly, and she'd only just noticed it. "What now?"

Lebreau glanced toward the manor. "We'll be staying there, I guess. The four-wheel drive is ruined, and your car didn't look much better. We need to find somewhere safe where we can rest, reload, and plan because we can't just leave our supplies out there."

Nora nodded. "All right then." She stumbled over to Hope and threw her arms around him. "Good work, Hope."

X X X

As they made their way up toward the manor, Lebreau had to fight to keep from fidgeting. She'd managed to keep up a cheerful front so far, but the truth was they were all running low on ammunition, and that wasn't good. Right now, all she had for her rifle was a half-empty magazine. At least her pistol still had about twenty rounds left, but that wouldn't be much good if they ran into real trouble. If they couldn't resupply soon, they were dead.

They reached the manor without any trouble, and Lebreau gave a low whistle as they stood in front of it. Most of the garden had died over the winter, but the entrance was still imposing. It was all stone columns and thick, wooden doors. Setting her shoulder against the doors, she tried to force them open, and when that failed, she let Gadot try. When even he couldn't get the doors to open, she bit back a cry of frustration. The doors had probably been barricaded shut from the inside, so how were they going to get in? Gadot could always use his axe, but if the people inside had blocked the doors with furniture, they still wouldn't be able to get in.

She looked around. The windows were boarded up too, but they had to be easier to break open than the door. There was a window not too far from them which looked promising.

"Gadot," Lebreau said. "Can you break that window open with your axe?"

Gadot got the window open in a few moments, and Lebreau turned to look at the others. "We can't stay out here, and it'll probably be a while before the Infected disperse. When they do, we can go back for our supplies, but for now, we need to find somewhere safe, and this manor looks like a good place to start." She glanced at the open window. "I'll go first. Yuj, Maqui, you go next, and then Nora and Hope. Gadot you go last. Make sure that nothing follows us in."

Lebreau steadied herself for a moment and then leapt through the window. She landed lightly, her rifle up and ready. The corridor around her was dark, lit only by the rays of sunlight that came in through the gaps in the planks that boarded the windows. She nodded slowly. "It looks clear, come in."

The others came in through the window, and Lebreau ran a critical eye over all of them. Somehow, she'd ended up the leader of the group, and she wasn't about to let any of them down. They were practically family now, and she'd be damned before she lost anything else to the Infected.

"All right," Lebreau said. "We need to explore the manor to make sure that it's safe, but first we need a place where we can all meet up." She led them down the corridor back toward the front door. There, they found themselves in a large foyer, the floor coated in a thick layer of dust, the front door barred by a small mountain of furniture.

"What now?" Nora asked.

Lebreau pursed her lips. "This place looks huge. We'll never be able to cover it quickly enough if we stay together." She frowned. "We're going to have to split up. I'll take Yuj. Gadot, you take Maqui. Nora, you've got Hope." She smiled as best she could. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. Just stay sharp and keep one finger on the trigger." She looked toward the staircase at the far end of the foyer. "Yuj and I will go upstairs. Gadot and Maqui, you two take a look down here on the right side of the building. Nora, you take Hope and look at the left side." She glanced down at her watch – somehow it had survived the past few months almost perfectly intact. "Meet back here in an hour."

The others nodded.

"Good, then let's get going." Lebreau smiled. "And remember to look out for each other. We're going to make it, you guys, so long as we stick together."

As Lebreau and Yuj climbed the stairs, she took a quick look at the blue haired young man. She hadn't been sure what to make of him when they'd found him, but she'd gotten used to most of his quirks. After all, what sort of person went around looking for fashionable clothing at a time like this? Still, maybe she shouldn't have been surprised. The Infection was one disaster after another, and if he needed trendy clothes to deal with it all then she wasn't going to stop him. Besides, he was tough when he needed to be, and he was a damn good shot with his revolver too.

"Think we'll find anything in here?" Yuj murmured.

"I don't know." Lebreau grinned. "But probably not anything you'd be interested in." She stopped as they reached the top of the stairs. They would go to the left side of the building first and then the right. "Still, you never know, and there's got to be something useful in a place this big."

The first room they reached was a study of some kind. She kicked the door open and then looked around for any possible threat. She relaxed slightly. There was nothing here except for a large antique desk covered with papers, some cabinets, and a fireplace. She had Yuj stand guard at the door as she looked around for anything they could use.

There wasn't really much they could use. Sure, there was some nice looking jewellery, but jewellery wasn't worth a damn thing these days. However, she had a bit more luck when she opened one of the drawers of the desk and found herself looking at several photographs, a map, and a set of keys.

The map itself showed the coast, and it seemed to highlight a small town perhaps eighty miles north of Bodhum. But what really drew her eye was the photo. It showed an old man with a little girl – his grand daughter maybe? – and the pair of them were standing on a small yacht. Squinting, she could just make out the name of the yacht: Omega. That same name was on the keys. Her eyes widened. Were these keys to the yacht? If they were, then the town was probably where the yacht was.

Her heart raced. This was a good find. They'd been wondering what to do for a while now, and simply heading to the coast wasn't much of a plan. But somewhere there had to be a place without the Infected, probably an island or something. It was a long shot, but the yacht would definitely help. But that left another question. Why had the keys been left here?

Pocketing the map, the photo, and the keys, Lebreau headed out of the study. She had a feeling she'd find the answers to her questions soon enough. Over the next twenty minutes, she and Yuj continued to search the left side of the upper floor, but there really wasn't a lot to be found. True, they did find some clothes that might fit the members of the group, but most of the rooms seemed to be devoted to paperwork.

However, as they started their search of the right side of the upper floor, Lebreau felt a wave of unease sweep through her. The walls in this part of the building were badly damaged in places by what looked to be gunfire. Her hands tightened a little on her rifle. She didn't want to kill anyone, but if someone here fired on her, she would absolutely shoot back.

But as they searched the rooms, it became more and more certain that they wouldn't find anyone, at least, not anyone alive. In one room, they found several maids, their uniforms crumpled around their badly decayed bodies. The cause of death was obvious – they'd been shot at close raise with a shotgun. Carefully avoiding the bodies, Lebreau and Yuj searched the room for weapons, and found several pistols with ammunition. It was a good find, but neither of them could smile.

The other rooms were much the same, but it was outside the master bedroom that the carnage was the worst. About a dozen bodies lay in front of it, all of them bearing gunshot wounds. Some had been blown almost in half, whilst others lay slumped against the walls. Most of the flesh had vanished, but the floor was dyed a dull reddish brown by all of the blood. Tentatively, Lebreau opened the bedroom door.

"Is anyone there?" she shouted, keeping clear of the door. "Is anyone there?"

Silence. She took a step forward and then glanced back at Yuj. He looked like he was about to throw up. Her gaze softened. She could handle herself. "Go keep watch a few doors down. I'll finish up in here." He nodded gratefully and headed away from the carnage.

Lebreau watched him go and then stepped into the bedroom. There were only two bodies here, but she recognised both of them from the photo. The old man lay slumped over by the bedside table, a hole blown through his skull at the temple. The other body belonged to the little girl, her dress the same one as in the photo, but for some reason she'd been tied to a chair. Her entire head had been blown off.

Lebreau felt a surge of bile, and before she knew it, she was crouched in the corner emptying her stomach. Gasping for air, she staggered across the room to where a small diary lay on the bedside table. There were weapons and ammunition to gather, but right now, she needed to know what had happened here. It was just… just too much for her to walk away from.

The diary painted a clear, but horrifying picture. The old man and his grand daughter had lived here with their servants, and after the outbreak of the Infection, they had barricaded themselves inside. But somehow, one of the Infected had gotten in, and before it had been put down, it had managed to bite the grand daughter. The old man had done everything he could think of to help her, but as the girl became one of the Infected, he'd been forced to tie to her to a chair. The servants had wanted to kill her then, but she was all the old man had left. So he'd made his choice, and he'd chosen his grand daughter even though she'd become one of the Infected. He'd killed the servants to protect her, but staring at the howling, shrieking thing in the chair he'd finally realised that his grand daughter was dead – had been dead for a long time. He killed her and then himself.

Lebreau felt angry tears prick at the corner of her eyes. It was all so stupid and pointless. Nothing in the world made sense anymore, and she couldn't help but wonder what she would have done in the old man's place. If Gadot got Infected, could she really bring herself to shoot him? And Nora… what would she do if Hope became Infected? Maker… she had to fight back another wave of nausea.

Dragging in a few deep breaths, Lebreau forced herself to calm and then went about collecting what ammunition and weapons she could find.

"Yuj," she shouted. "Come on, we're going back to the foyer." He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "Don't ask me what was in there, Yuj, and don't you go in there either." She paused. "Make sure to tell Maqui that too." Her eyes hardened. "I mean it."

They were the first to get back to the foyer, but within a few minutes the others arrived. To her relief, they all seemed to be fine.

"So, what did you guys find?" Lebreau asked.

Nora and Hope were the first to reply, and their answer did a lot to lift everyone's spirits. They'd stumbled across the kitchens and while there wasn't a wide selection of food on offer, there was quite a bit of the longer lasting stuff. Lebreau smiled. At least they wouldn't starve in here, although they'd definitely need a new car if they wanted to take the food with them. As for Gadot and Maqui, they'd stumbled across a few things of their own. First, there was the solar-powered CB radio they'd found sitting on a windowsill, but even if it still worked, they hadn't been able to hear anything except static. More interesting was the garage they'd found. Maqui hadn't been able to get too good look at the cars, but he seemed confident that he could get them running again if they could find some fuel.

Then it was over to Lebreau and Yuj. She handed out all the ammunition and weaponry, and then told them about the yacht.

Gadot stared at her. "That's some plan, Lebreau. I mean… you want us to go sailing around on a yacht?"

"Well, it does sound a bit crazy when you put it like that." Lebreau turned serious. "But, yes, I do. Look, today's made things pretty clear. All it takes is one mistake and all of us can end up dead. Sooner or later, we'll make another mistake, and I doubt we'll get lucky again." She glanced at the radio. "And we have that CB radio now. If there's anyone out there, we'll be able to find them."

Nora pursed her lips. "I think we should try." She looked over at Hope. "I don't know if there's anywhere safe, but we can't keep running forever."

Gadot sighed. "I guess you're right." He glanced at Maqui, Yuj, and Hope. They all nodded back. "So, that settles it then."

"Good." Lebreau nodded firmly. "Right now, we're all tired and beat up. I think we should hole ourselves up in one of the rooms and get some rest. Tomorrow morning we can head back across the river. There has to be another bridge somewhere, and the Infected should have dispersed a little by then. We can siphon some of the fuel out of the cars, see if maybe we can get the cars here running." She looked at Maqui. "Are you sure you can fix them up?"

Maqui nodded. "I think so. They were pretty well maintained, and once I tidy them up a little and get some fuel in them, they should work fine."

"That's great." Lebreau glanced over at Nora. "You said something about a living room we could barricade ourselves in?"

"Yes," Nora said. "It's large, but the doors are still intact. It's not that far from the kitchen."

"Then we'll bunker down there for today." She smiled. "Cheer up guys. We've got food, ammunition, and tomorrow we'll have new cars."

Together, the six of them headed out of the foyer toward the living room. Lebreau wouldn't exactly call the mood cheerful, but there was something about having clear goals that made things a little better. Heck, they might even get lucky and actually find somewhere safe, although that was probably asking for a little too much. Still, it didn't hurt to dream, especially when dreams were all they had left.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

Well, here's the next chapter. I've been wanting to write something from Lebreau's point of view for a while now, and here it is. I also think she provides a nice complement to Nora's point of view. Both of them have responsibilities, but Lebreau's are a little different from Nora's.

I would also like to comment on the reason for the long delay. I had originally planned to have this chapter out early last week, but I have spent most of the past week with headaches and a hideous cough. Indeed, I've been told I sound a bit like a dying lawnmower. Normally, I'd try and soldier on, but my concentration was pretty much shot. I could concentrate for about half an hour at a time, which was okay for emails and other simpler things, but sitting down and actually writing anything of substantial length was pretty much beyond me. Heck, I had to break up writing the draft of this chapter into two sessions because I started to feel quite nauseous half way through. I'm still coughing pretty badly, but my head has cleared, so I decided to finish this chapter off. As you can imagine, there's also a bit of a backlog on my other stories.

Slightly off topic, I recently came across a discussion about which factor was more important in a story: plot or characters? Now, I won't state which one I think is more important (indeed there are good arguments for either, and most good stories have a good plot and good characters), but I will point out that many writers seem to be much better at writing one than the other. Many stories also seem to have a much greater focus on one than the other. This story, I suppose, is a good example of that. Plot-wise, I don't see it as being especially remarkable. What makes this story work (and I hope it does work for all of you) are the characters. That's why I think the most popular chapters are those with Sazh and Dajh and those with Lightning and Vanille. There is something disturbingly interesting about watching two people (Lightning and Vanille) mentally disintegrate in the midst of a world that has already come apart at the seams. It's also quite fun to write. In any case, I just thought I'd mention this because it caught my interest.

And yes, the yacht in this chapter is named 'Omega' for a reason. I believe it shares the same name as a certain Weapon…

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

"You said you'd look after me."

The shambling figure was barely recognisable save for the lone, tattered patch of pink hair that still clung to the scalp.

"You promised that you'd never let anything happen to me."

Lightning trembled. Bile burned at the back of her throat. Serah was gone. There was no way that her sister could be stumbling toward her, no way that Serah could be staring at her with eyes as black and empty as bitumen.

"You left me. You left me all alone."

Bone jutted out from a gash in Serah's arm, and her mouth opened wide in a horrible parody of a smile to reveal teeth too jagged to be human.

"I'm dead because of you, Lightning! I'm Infected because of you!"

And then Serah sprang, and the last thing Lightning felt were her sister's arms around her and her sister's teeth buried in her throat. She smiled – one last embrace.

X X X

Lightning gasped and flailed. Her hands and feet skittered across the wooden floor as she slammed into the wall behind her. Chest heaving, she shoved both of her hands over her mouth to try and stifle any other noises she might make. Slowly, far too slowly, she remembered where she was. She was in an old farmhouse with the doors and windows barricaded shut. Only a few feet away was Vanille. Somehow, the red head was still asleep.

"Just a dream." Lightning rocked herself back and forth, her arms wrapped around herself. "It was just a dream."

But even as she spoke the words, she had to fight back tears. It was only a dream, but deep down inside, she knew it was the truth. If only she'd kept Serah a little bit closer, if only she'd been a better sister, if only –

"Lightning?" Vanille rubbed at her face and pushed up onto her hands and knees. "What are you doing?" Her eyes widened as she actually looked at Lightning, and in a second, she was at Lightning's side, her arms wrapped around the other woman. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." Lightning fought to keep from trembling. Vanille had enough to worry about without her adding to everything. "Let's just go back to sleep."

Vanille gave her a sceptical look, but Lightning ignored it in favour of going back to the makeshift nest of blankets that served as their bed. Ever since the red head had been attacked by feral dogs, she had refused to sleep on her own. Lightning had warned her that she was dangerous, that at any moment she might snap and turn on her, but Vanille had insisted, and so far nothing bad had happened. But Lightning knew that it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later, she'd snap, and when she did, she just hoped Vanille had the good sense to put her down like a rabid dog.

If only it wasn't so hard to think clearly when Vanille was curled up against her. The younger woman was soft and warm, and so very much alive. It was easy sometimes, too easy, to pretend that it was Serah there with her. But those moments always passed, and in the end, she always woke up to the same horrible world.

But whatever comfort Vanille's presence offered – and Lightning wasn't so far gone that she didn't realise how dependent she'd become on the other woman – the red head was also a constant reminder of Lightning's failure. They were only a few days from Bodhum now, but the closer they got, the more keenly she felt her failure. She was going home, but it was without Serah.

Lightning eased herself into the blankets. "Vanille, let's go back to sleep."

"Okay." Vanille scooted over to Lightning and wrapped her arms around the taller woman. "Good night."

Lightning nodded. "Good night."

As Vanille began to doze off, Lightning did her best to clear her mind, but when she closed her eyes, it was Serah she saw. And once again, her sister's eyes were like pools of tar, and her smile was equal parts deranged and ravenous.

"Welcome home." Serah's neck twisted, snapping cleanly. "Sister."

X X X

Vanille watched Lightning out of the corner of her eye as the pink haired woman guided the four-wheel drive along the narrow road. They were only a few days from Bodhum, and Lightning should have been feeling better. Certainly, Vanille was in high spirits. She'd finally get to see the beach again. She might even make a sand castle, and if they were really lucky, they'd find some fireworks. With the way everything was, what else could they hope for?

But Lightning had only gotten worse. Twice now, Vanille had woken to find Lightning pressed against the wall of whatever place they were staying at, her hands clamped over her mouth, her eyes filled with something that went so far beyond horror that Vanille could barely find any words for it. And to her shame, Vanille hadn't had to the courage to ask. Instead, when Lightning had said she was fine, Vanille had just let her get away with it. She was afraid, afraid of finding out what could rattle someone like Lightning so badly.

And on the few occasions that Vanille had tried to prey, albeit subtly, Lightning had pushed her away. The soldier was slipping back into the shell she'd been in when they'd first met. Sure, Lightning still talked whenever Vanille asked her a question, and sure, Lightning still let Vanille curl up to her at night, but where before there had been a creeping, quiet sort of warmth to Lightning's gaze, there was now only an awful coolness, a bitter remoteness. Something had changed, and for the life of her, Vanille could not figure out what it was.

"What are you going to do when we get to Bodhum?" Vanille asked.

Lightning's gaze remained locked on the road. "I don't know."

"I want to see if we can find any fireworks." Vanille giggled. "When I was young, the matron always used to let us watch the New Year's Eve celebrations on television. It was always so pretty, and Bodhum always had the best fireworks." She glanced at Lightning. "Did you and Serah ever go to the fireworks?"

Almost imperceptibly, Lightning's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Oblivious to the sudden tension running through Lightning, Vanille continued to speak. Over the past few weeks, Lightning had opened up a bit more about Serah, and even if she always looked a bit sad, Lightning did seem to like talking about her sister, so maybe Vanille could cheer her up that way.

"What kind of fireworks did Serah like?" Vanille grinned. "She did like going to the fireworks, didn't she?"

Lightning's hands were now clenched around the steering wheel, and her eyes had narrowed to little more than slits.

"My favourites were always the ones that had different colours." Vanille's eyes were bright with memories of the past. "I bet she liked those ones too –"

"Shut up."

"Huh?" Vanille looked at Lightning. "What?"

The pink haired woman slammed her foot down on the brakes. "I said: shut up!"

The force of the cry had Vanille huddling against the door, her hands held up as if to ward off a blow. Lightning's breath came in short, sharp, little gasps, and her eyes burned like blue fire. For the first time in what felt like forever, Vanille was genuinely afraid of her companion.

"I'm sorry." Vanille's lip quivered. "I'm sorry, so please don't yell. I promise I'll stop talking, so please don't yell."

Lightning's eyes widened and then she slumped into the driver's seat. The four-wheel drive continued to hum, its engine purring.

"Don't apologise. You didn't do anything wrong." Lightning leaned forward to rest her head on the steering wheel. "I don't even know why I yelled at you."

Vanille edged forward and very gingerly put one hand on Lightning's back. The pink haired woman's back was one big patch of knotted muscle. "It's okay, Lightning. I mean… it's okay now. You haven't been sleeping much lately, so maybe you're just tired and… do you think you could tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Lightning straightened and eased her foot off the brakes, but Vanille could see the shiver run through as she drew upon every ounce of inner strength she had left. "Nothing is wrong."

But something was very wrong. Vanille was sure of it.

They made camp that night in an abandoned gas station. There wasn't much fuel left, but they found some cans of food in a storeroom up the back. Dinner was cooked over a fire in an old fuel drum, and to go with the usual cans of soup, they even had a few apples they'd picked from a tree not too far from the gas station.

The fruit was sweet and fresh, but Vanille barely tasted it. Instead, she watched Lightning, and as she watched, she felt like kicking herself. How could she not have noticed? The pink haired woman was exhausted, and now that she looked more closely, it was clear that Lightning hadn't slept properly in a lot more than a few days. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her movements were lethargic, lacking their usual efficient grace.

But what concerned Vanille the most was the long, long stare that Lightning had. It wasn't the stare she'd gotten used to – the one that sometimes confused her with Serah and brought to mind better days – it was the stare of someone who'd thought long and hard about something and come to a terrible decision. She'd seen it before, in the mirror, in the days before Lightning had come, and she'd wondered if maybe it wouldn't be better to put a gun in her mouth and taste a little lead.

She needed to find out what was going on in Lightning's head, because if something happened to her then she was dead. It wasn't simply a matter of losing Lightning's survival skills, although that was a part of it. No, Vanille absolutely refused to be alone again. If that happened then she'd kill herself, she was sure of it.

"Can you tell me more about Bodhum?" Vanille whispered. "I'd like to know a little more before we get there."

Lightning looked down at the can of soup in her hands. It had gone cold a long time ago, and now it's contents were a wet sludge that was only barely palatable. All the same, she shovelled another spoonful of it into her mouth. Vanille winced.

"I'll tell you about the sea." Lightning's voice was soft and fragile, so much so that Vanille had to strain to hear it. Her eyes, so very blue, were sad and gentle all at once, and as they drifted closed, she could almost have been asleep if it weren't for the fact her lips were moving. "I remember when I was child, my mother used to take Serah and I walking along the beach. The beaches are beautiful in Bodhum, Vanille, golden sand so fine it slips between your toes without you even noticing its there. But the sea that's what I remember best. The water is clear there, and calm, and on a good day, it's like you can see all the way to the end of the world." Lightning opened her eyes, and they were so sad that Vanille felt a lone tear trickle down her cheek. "I want to see it one last time. That would be enough, I think."

"One last time?" Vanille murmured before the words sank in. Suddenly, it all made sense. "Lightning," she said slowly. "What do you mean, see it one last time?"

Lightning said nothing – and that said everything.

Vanille pushed to her feet, and the can of soup beside her tipped onto its side. "Lightning, tell me what you meant!" She didn't care if she shouted. She needed to know.

"I think you know." Lightning's smile was serene. "I think you know exactly what I meant." She tugged her knees up to her chest. "I'm tired, Vanille. Tired of everything. Tired of fighting. Tired of feeling guilty. Tired of think about all the things I've ever done wrong." She looked up at Vanille. "How long do you think we'll last? A day? A week?" She laughed. "A year? It doesn't matter. In the end, we'll be like all the others." She chuckled softly, brokenly. "Everything ends, Vanille. What does it matter when it ends?"

Vanille dragged in a harsh breath. She was crying. With a growl, she grabbed Lightning and hauled the other woman up to her feet. "You promised!" she screamed. "You promised we'd go to Bodhum together, and see the beach, and live as long as we could and –"

She stopped short as Lightning pushed her away. In the blink of an eye, the pink haired woman had her pistol drawn and levelled at Vanille's head.

"I can make it quick." Lightning's voice was calm, even, like they were discussing the weather. "Neither of us will feel a thing, and neither of us will have to worry about anything ever again. It can all end here. It'll be just like falling asleep." She shook her head slowly. "That's better than what Serah had."

Vanille took a slow step back.

"I lied, Vanille." Lightning stared down at the pistol as though the weapon held the answers to all the questions in the world. "I'm not okay. You're not okay. Nothing is ever going to be okay." Her lips curled. "Bodhum is a dream. This whole journey… all of it was a dream. When we get there, do you know what we'll find? Ashes and death. But we both knew that already. And after that, what next? Are we going to go somewhere else? Are we going to go find another dream to chase?" She snarled. "Wake up, Vanille. There are no more dreams. All our dreams are dead!"

"But… but…" Vanille shook her head frantically. "Before… we made snowmen… we were happy. You said you cared about me. You said we'd stay together as long as we could. You promised, Lightning! You promised!" She scrubbed at her cheeks. "You weren't lying then, I know you weren't lying. Say it, Lightning, say you weren't lying!"

"You're so much like Serah." Lightning whispered. "But I couldn't see things clearly then, the way I see them now." She waved one hand at their makeshift bed, and then at the four-wheel drive and trailer packed with all their worldly belongings. "Is that how you want to spend the rest of your life? Is that what you're fighting so hard for?"

"No, it's not how I want to spend the rest of my life." Vanille clenched her fists. "But it's okay if I'm with you. It's okay so long as I'm not alone." She took a step forward. "Lightning, please."

For the first time, Lightning's hand trembled. "Stop right there. Don't take another step."

"You won't pull the trigger." Vanille took another step forward and then another. "You're scared, scared because you're right – maybe we won't find anything in Bodhum, and maybe there won't be anything thing there but ashes and death, but does that have to matter? The beach will still be there, and the sea will still be there, and if you put down the gun, we'll be there too." She smiled. "You and me. We'll be there."

"It won't last." Lightning bit her lip. "It can't."

"You're probably right." Vanille laughed softly. "But however long it lasts – even if it's only a day – that's okay with me. I just don't want to be alone. So please, don't do this."

Lightning flinched and Vanille dove forward. The gun went off and blew a hole in the wall before it skittered out of Lightning's grasp. In a flash, Vanille was on her back, pinned to the ground, but she refused to give up. They rolled end over end, and somehow, Vanille managed to scramble her way to the top.

Slap.

"You don't get to do this!" Vanille wailed as she rained blows down on Lightning. They were weak, ineffectual, and it took only a moment for Lightning to grab her by the wrists. "You don't get to just quit! You're broken, I'm broken, the whole damn world is broken, but that doesn't mean we get to give up!" Vanille wrenched her hands freed and grabbed Lightning's shirt. "Do you think Serah would want you to give up? Do you think my friends would want me to give up? They're dead, and that hurts, and nothing in the world can change that, but if we die too, if we roll over and give up, then what does any of that mean? Who's going to remember them if we're gone?"

Lightning shoved her off and stumbled toward her gun, but Vanille lunged forward and threw her arms around Lightning's leg.

"Stop!" Vanille screamed. "Please stop!"

"Give me one reason." Lightning's eyes burned into Vanille's. "One good reason and I'll stop."

Vanille sniffled miserably. "Because I need you. Because I can't do this on my own." She met Lightning's gaze, and sobbed. "Because if you can't live for yourself or Serah, then maybe you could live for me."

For a long, long moment, Lightning said nothing. Finally, she nodded. "That's three reasons, Vanille. I asked for one."

Vanille gaped, and then she began to laugh. It was a hysterical sound and she felt tears pour down her cheeks. "I hate you." Vanille mumbled as she fought to control herself. "I hate you so damn much."

Lightning sagged to the ground. "I hate you too." She looked away. "But I suppose, I need you."

Vanille scrubbed at her cheeks. "Promise me that you won't ever do anything like that again. Promise me that you'll fight for as long as you can to keep us both alive." She paused. "Promise me on Serah."

Lightning sucked in a deep breath. "Only if you promise me on Fang that when the time comes, if there's no other way, you'll let me kill us both."

"Fine."

Silence.

"If we're really going to do this – try and live I mean, then we're going to need weapons, a lot more than we have now." Lightning closed her eyes. "I know where we might be able to get them."

Vanille shivered as Lightning tucked her pistol back into its holster. "Where?"

"There's a Guardian Corps training facility about a day from Bodhum." Lightning's eyes opened and for the first time in days, Vanille saw something other than bleak despair in them. This was the Lightning she'd come to know, the one who'd fought so hard for so long. "There should still be some equipment there that we can use."

"Do you mean it?" Vanille asked. "You're not lying?"

"No, I'm not lying." Lightning's gaze hardened. "I promised you on Serah that I'd fight, and I meant it." Her lips twitched up into a dark, twisted smile. "Besides, I've always wondered what the end of the world would look like. I guess the two of us are going to find out."

X X X

In her dreams that night, Lightning saw Serah again. This time, she didn't run, and she didn't stand there. Instead, she raised her pistol and shot Serah in the face. As her sister's blood spilled onto the pavement, she could hear her own laughter, tinged with madness, spilling out into a world of fire and shadow.

Magnificent.

X X X

Vanille eyed the Guardian Corps training facility warily. They'd pulled up just outside the perimeter fence, and even from a distance, the place seemed the very opposite of safe. The chain link fence was topped with barbed wire, and it looked like it might be electrified, but it was riddled with holes.

"Do you think it still works?"

"Stand back." Lightning examined the fence closely. "No, it looks like the power is down. Get the bolt cutters, we'll go in through the gate."

They eased the car in through the gate, and trundled into the heart of the facility. There were about a dozen buildings in all, most of them organised around a few main roads that led out into large, open fields that Vanille assumed were for training. Theirs wasn't the only vehicle there. Cars and trucks lay idle, and there even a few tanks posted at the main intersections.

"We'll be heading for the armoury," Lightning said, as she guided the car around a blood stained armoured personnel carrier. "If we're lucky, it will still be intact. If not, we can always search the rest of the facility."

"The armoury?"

Lightning smiled coldly. "Think guns, Vanille. Lots of guns." She chuckled. "And explosives."

Vanille wasn't sure what to make of that. Since their confrontation, Lightning's personality had taken another turn. There was a bloodthirstiness in her now that didn't sit entirely well with Vanille – even if it did remind her a lot of Fang – but it had to be better than the hopelessness that had been there before. And if Lightning had slaughtered the last few Infected they'd come across with a great deal more viciousness than was necessary, then that wasn't too bad. After all, the Infected needed to die.

In any case, Vanille definitely like the idea of having bigger and better guns, as well as a few explosives. If Bodhum was like any of the other towns they'd come across, they were going to need them if they wanted to carve out a home there – and Vanille definitely believed that they would. Lightning had promised on Serah, and that had to mean something. Maybe it would all end in tears with Lightning kill them both, but at least the pink haired woman had agreed to make a go of it.

"We'll get the car as close as we can." Lightning's brows furrowed. "Guns can be quite heavy."

They were as quiet as possible, but in the still, afternoon air, the four-wheel drive was unbearably loud. However, they managed to make it over to their destination without any sign of the Infected.

"Do you think they moved on?" Vanille asked as they climbed out of the car. As always, she checked to make sure she had all of her weapons. She'd come too far now to die because of something stupid like forgetting to bring a pistol.

"Maybe, but I doubt we're that lucky." Lightning nodded at the door of the building in front of them. "Stay close and keep you eyes and ears open."

They went over to the door, and Vanille turned to face their surroundings as Lightning fiddled with the keypad. To Vanille's surprise, the door gave a low hiss and jerked open.

"How did you get it to open? Keypads run off electricity."

Lightning shrugged. "This is where I did my basic training. The facility has its own generator, as well as a few solar panels to ensure power to essential systems. I'm betting the generator died a weeks ago, but some of the solar panels must still be working."

"Solar panels?" Vanille gasped. "We could –"

"We can't stay here." Lightning waved at the tattered fence and the wide-open space all around them. "There's no way we'd be able to fortify a place like this. Besides, there's no telling how much longer the solar panels will be working. They were designed for back up, and after the winter we've had, they're probably on their last legs." Her voice softened. "Besides, aren't you wondering what happened to all the Guardian Corps who were stationed here?"

Vanille shivered. She'd thought about that, but the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to know. "Never mind, let's go inside."

The inside of the building was dark save for the faint light cast by a few emergency lights. The air was stale too, and the floors were lined with dust and old, dried blood.

"The ventilation systems aren't working properly." Lightning turned on the flashlight attached to her rifle. "Stay close, and do not touch anything."

They crept down the corridor, past locked door after locked door. As they stopped to peer around a corner, Vanille glanced through the small window built into one of the doors, and gasped. The flickering lights beyond the door illuminated a scene out of a nightmare. Tables and chairs had been thrown about a small coffee room, and huddled against the walls and door were the bodies of about a dozen Guardian Corps officers. In the middle of the room, their battered forms twitching, were a handful of Infected.

"Vanille…" Lightning whispered. "Don't look."

Vanille nodded and then cried out as one of the Infected locked eyes with her and hurled itself at the door. The metal door shook, but held firm, and Vanille hurried after Lightning.

"What happened here?"

"They must have been overwhelmed, probably caught off guard too." Lightning led them down another long corridor and through a large hall. The bodies of Guardian Corps officers and Infected were strewn about everywhere along with shell casings. There were even scorch marks on the walls, floor, and ceiling. "They must have put the whole facility on emergency lockdown. That means all the doors, and all the windows – everything would have been locked. That's why we haven't seen that many Infected. Those outside must have wandered off, and the rest must still be locked in here."

"Oh." Vanille fought back a wave of nausea. They'd passed a lot of rooms on the way here. How many were filled with Infected?

Finally, they reached the armoury. The door was thick, at least several inches of metal, from the sound it made when Lightning tapped on it.

"We can't cut through this." Lightning frowned. "I'm going to have to turn as much of the power back on as I can, but that means the doors are probably going to unlock – it's part of the emergency start up sequence."

"Unlock?" Vanille shook her head. "But if they unlock –"

"It's our only chance." Lightning looked down the corridor. "And at least here, we'll have a fighting chance." She knelt by the keypad. "Are you ready?"

Vanille took a deep breath. She needed to stay calm. One breath after another. "Do it."

Lightning's fingers flew across the keypad, and then there was a whoosh as the whole corridor went dark. A second later, the power kicked back in, and the lights flared back to life. Behind them, the door groaned and swung open.

"Keep watch, Vanille." Lightning disappeared into the armoury. "Buy as much time as you can."

Vanille nodded grimly. Lightning was trusting her, and she refused to betray that trust. Almost a minute passed before she heard it, the sound of footsteps. The doors at the far end of the corridor burst open, and the first of the Infected appeared. It was a young man, his face contorted into a mask of inhuman fury. Behind him were a dozen more Infected, and as they laid eyes on Vanille, they began to howl and scream.

"Lightning!" Vanille shouted. "Lightning, they're here!"

"Hold them off!" Lightning growled. "I'm counting on you."

Vanille lifted her shotgun. Before she'd met Lightning, she would have fired as soon as she saw the Infected, but the other woman had taught her how to hold back until the Infected were close enough to feel the full force of the shotgun. The Infected pounded down the corridor, some of them stumbling as they bounced off the walls and bumped into the others beside them. She eased her finger down on the trigger.

Bang. The first Infected flew back, its body blown almost in half.

Bang. Another Infected went down, it's head torn off.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

The shotgun clicked empty, and Vanille dropped it to the ground. In the same motion, she drew her revolver and levelled it at the Infected. She'd found it a week ago, and what it lacked in terms of ease of use or the number of bullets it could fire before reloading, it more than made up for in stopping power.

The Infected continued their headlong charge, and she lined up her shots. Her mind was on autopilot, the fear she felt shoved back as she realised a very simple truth. For once, Lightning was relying on her to protect her. For once, Vanille would have a chance to prove her worth. And she would not be found wanting.

She emptied the revolver, but still the Infected came on. There was no time to reload, and so she went for the pistol tucked into the back of her pants. It was her last weapon, and while it lacked the punch of the revolver, it would have to do.

"Lightning," she cried. "Hurry up!"

Then Lightning was there, and with a gun that Vanille had never seen before.

The blue-eyed woman snarled. "Get down."

Vanille dropped.

The gun roared in Lightning's hands, the tall woman's whole body drawn taut to brace against the kick of it, as it spat swift, metal death down the length of the corridor. Vanille closed her eyes and covered her ears. It was like the world was ending. A few seconds later, it was over.

"What is that?" Vanille asked as she got to her feet.

Lightning tapped the gun affectionately. "I won't bother with its name, but think of it as a cross between an assault rifle and a shotgun." She smiled faintly. "It's the first time I've ever fired one outside of training." Her lip trembled. "If I'd had one back in Nautilus maybe…" She shivered and shook her head. "Never mind. There are bags inside the armoury that we can use. Get them filled with as much as you can and we'll take them back to the car."

"Right."

The inside of the armoury was like something out of a video game. Vanilla didn't even know the names of all the guns and explosives, but she filled as many of the bags as she could, and got them ready.

"What is with all this stuff?" Vanille asked. "And how come they didn't use it?"

"I can't say for certain." Lightning had a pair of bags hanging off each shoulder, but even so, they'd have to make more than one trip. "But I can guess. This Infection – we never saw it coming. I was sent out to Nautilus, something about riots, and the next thing we know, there's Infected everywhere. Once the news got out, I'm sure they mobilised all of the Guardian Corps to try and contain the spread, but you know how that must have gone." Her lips curled. "I'm betting they got caught off guard, either that, or some of the Infected must have slipped through the perimeter. One minute they're discussing deployment, the next, they're getting eaten."

"That doesn't explain why all the weapons were in there though." Vanille struggled beneath the weight of the bags she carried.

"Not just anyone can open the armoury." Lightning peered down the corridor and then waved Vanille forward. "You'd need to be a lieutenant or higher to open it, and judging from some of the bodies we passed, the senior officers were some of the first to die. When the power cut, or they started the emergency lockdown, there was probably no one left alive who knew the codes to get it open."

"But you knew the codes." Vanille tilted her head to one side. Had she been travelling with a general or something? "What rank are you?"

"It doesn't matter, not anymore. But, no, I wasn't high up." Lightning chuckled softly. "My commanding officer was one of the officers here. He was a good man, Vanille. I think you'd have liked him. He died in Nautilus, but he gave everyone in the squad the codes. I suppose he figured at least one of us might make it back here alive."

It took them several trips to get everything they needed from the armoury, and then they were off to Bodhum.

X X X

Lightning steered the four-wheel drive around another burnt out car and tried to ignore the hole in her chest where her heart had been. Bodhum was a wreck. Unlike most of the towns they'd passed through, it hadn't been ravaged by fire, but the Infected had been no less brutal in their assault here than elsewhere. Badly decayed bodies were scattered here and there, some little more than bone. Worse, however, were the packs of feral dogs that roamed the streets, some even giving chase as the car hurtled past.

Most of the shops were in ruins. Some had been looted, but others were buried beneath loose branches and debris. Her eyes narrowed. At some point, a storm must have swept in, and with no one to clean up the mess, things had fallen apart. Nature really was quick to take back what was hers.

She eased her foot down on the accelerator as they passed a group of Infected. They gave chase, shrieking and yelling, but the car easily outpaced them as she hit one of the wider streets and let the four-wheel drive stretch its legs. What would happen if the Infected ran into the feral dogs? Would they turn on each other, or would the dogs be wise enough to run. If she and Vanille were lucky, maybe they two groups would wipe each other out.

Beside her, Vanille dozed quietly in the passenger seat, exhausted by another night spent watching her like a hawk. She stared down at her hands. She couldn't blame Vanille for being worried. She'd given the red head good cause to worry. She remembered pulling her gun on Vanille, but the words she'd spoken, the things she'd said – she still couldn't quite bring herself to believe that she'd said them. For the first time, perhaps in months, Lightning felt like she was thinking clearly, and she was disgusted with herself.

Vanille had asked her to live for her sake if she couldn't live for herself, and Lightning had to admit that maybe that wasn't so bad. She swallowed thickly. Serah was dead. Every rational part of her mind knew that, but only now had she begun to accept it. Vanille was not Serah – no one could ever be Serah – but perhaps Vanille was special in her own way.

And the red head had been right. What would Serah think if Lightning threw her life away now? She didn't know if heaven and hell were real – at this point, life was pretty close to the latter – but if they were real, then what would she tell Serah when she got there, that she just gave up and left Vanille to fend for herself?

Lightning smiled. She knew how Serah would take something like that. Her sister would be horrified, and probably spend a few minutes whacking her upside the head and calling her ten different kinds of stupid. Only Serah had ever dared to treat her like that – until Vanille had tackled her to the ground. It was funny, but if things had been different, she probably wouldn't have given Vanille a second glance. But here they were, as close as two people could be.

"Lightning?" Vanille blinked and sat up.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?" Vanille looked at her carefully.

"I think so." Lightning pursed her lips. "Stay awake, we're nearly there." She smiled and pointed out the window. "Oh, and look over there."

Vanille turned and then let out a cry of joy. They were alongside the beach. It was golden sand for as far as she could see, and a host of palm trees swayed in the brisk, sea breeze. The clear waters of the ocean lapped at the shore, and overhead, birds circled, their cries filling the air. Only the debris washed up along the shore – a mixture of vegetation, garbage, and bodies – marred the scene, but even still, it was a finer sight than anything she had seen in months.

"It's so beautiful."

"It is." Lightning pointed up ahead, slowing the car a fraction to let Vanille get a closer look at the beach. "My house isn't far."

A few minutes later, Lightning pulled up in front of her house. It wasn't large, and the garden had been torn apart, but for the most part, it seemed intact. Someone had even gone to the trouble of boarding the windows and barricading the door.

"Don't let your guard down, we need to make sure it's safe."

Lightning forced the door open and peered inside. The familiarity of the place washed over her, and she had to fight to stay focused. There was a pile of garbage in the living room – someone had tried to live here – but so far, there was no sign of the Infected. Quickly, she swept through the house, Vanille on her heels. They were alone, except for two bodies on the back porch. It was an old man and an old woman, their hands joined. Their temples bore identical gunshot wounds.

"What do you want to do about them?" Vanille asked softly.

Lightning's gaze drifted to where the old couple must have been looking when they ended things. She swallowed thickly. The horizon. The beach. "Leave them there, at least for now. I'm going to go fix the front door and get some old cans rigged up as an alarm." She paused. "We can stay here, I guess."

Vanille followed her back to the front door and then drifted over to the living room. The old couple hadn't touched any of the pictures on the mantelpiece. In fact, they'd even added a few of their own. It made Lightning want to cry.

"When was this taken?" Vanille asked. She had a picture of Serah and Lightning in her hands.

"That's from when she graduated high school." Lightning had to blink back tears. "I was so happy that day, so damn proud."

"She was always smiling," Vanille said. "That's what everybody at university said." She paused, uncertain. "She must have loved you a lot, Lightning. She looks so happy in this picture."

Lightning took the picture and ran one finger along her sister's face. It hurt to admit, but there were times when she struggled to remember exactly what her sister looked like. There was so much blood, so much horror between those idyllic days and now. "There are some other photo albums that you can look at if you want."

Vanille looked surprised, but then she grinned. "Maybe later. First, let's go look for some fireworks."

"Fireworks?" Lightning chuckled. "Why not."

The search for fireworks was no nearly as hard as Lightning had feared it might be. After about an hour of driving around, they found a supermarket that still had some. They had to kill a few Infected – something they'd gotten very good at over the past few months – and scare off a few feral dogs, but they made it back to their house with quite a haul. Serah would have loved it.

It was going on sunset by then, and after securing the rest of the house, Lightning helped Vanille up onto the roof.

"I used to sit up here all the time with Serah." Lightning murmured as the sun began to set. The water was bathed in shades of orange and yellow, the waves a susurrant rustle against the shore. "Even after all that's happened, it's still beautiful."

"It is." Vanille reached over and put her hand on Lightning's. The other woman didn't pull away. "I used to watch the sunset with Fang a lot when we lived at the orphanage. We'd climb up onto the roof, and the matron would scream at us to get down." She giggled. "Eventually, she got sick of yelling and started to join us up there. It's a nice thing, the sunset in the mountains, but I think this is better." She scooted over until she and Lightning were side-by-side. "Thank you for taking me here, Lightning."

"You didn't give me much of a choice."

"I didn't, did I?"

"We're at the end of the world, Vanille." Lightning's eyes drifted to the horizon, to a sky set ablaze by the setting sun, and now drifting slowly into the dark, black ash of night. "How does it feel?"

Vanille followed Lightning's gaze. "It feels fine."

As darkness fell over them, Vanille tugged Lightning to her feet. "Come on, let's go set off the fireworks."

Lightning pursed her lips. "We need to be careful. It's probably going to draw the Infected."

"Then we can drive down to the beach," Vanille insisted. "Come on!"

They drove down to the beach, and Vanille filmed everything with Bhakti as Lightning set off the fireworks. They kept the engine of the car running, and both of them were armed to the teeth.

"Look at that!" Vanille pointed, her eyes wide with delight as the fireworks painted the sky with brilliant plumes of red, green, yellow, and blue. "It's so pretty!"

Lightning looked at the fireworks and then at Vanille. "Yes, it is."

They stayed out there for twenty minutes, setting off fireworks of every size and description. When the first of the Infected came, they tossed aside the sparklers they were holding and fought their way back to the car. Some things would never change, and others things would never be the same.

X X X

The next morning, Vanille awakened to an empty bed – and for once, it actually was a bed, with blankets and everything! She was about panic, and then she saw Lightning. The other woman was starting intently at something outside the window.

"What is it?"

"Look." Lightning pointed to the harbour. There was a thin trail of smoke rising from an island. "It started some time last night."

"What do you think it means?"

"I can't be sure." Lightning paused. "But watch. It stops and starts."

"Stops and starts?" Vanille frowned as a break appeared in the column of smoke followed by another a few seconds later. "That… it looks like a smoke signal. Do you think… are there other people there?"

"Maybe." Lightning dragged in a deep breath. "Do you want to look? They might be good people, but they could also be bad."

Vanille bit her lip. After all this time, had they finally found more people? "I think we should go. They might be bad, but what if they're good?"

"Fine." Lightning nodded. "But we'll have to find a boat first. And, Vanille." Her eyes grew hard. "Don't second guess yourself out there. If there are people there, they might want to hurt us. If you even think that you're in danger then you shoot first. We can ask questions later."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

Well, you can probably tell that we're getting close to the end of things. Naturally, though, we're not going to get there without a bit of rough and tumble. One of the things that's always fascinated my about zombie apocalypse scenarios is how they can turn even the most normal people into paranoid psychotics, and how they can make even the most demented decisions seem completely rational. Case in point: Lightning.

Luckily for Lightning, however, she isn't alone. Vanille is every bit as screwed up as she is, but in a different way. Put together they are, somehow, functional, which is one of the parts I enjoy the most when it comes to writing this story. A zombie apocalypse can make monsters, but the very worst monsters are always the ones inside our own heads. They're also the ones we can never outrun.

As for the ending of this chapter, well, I'm sure you can guess who or what may be causing the smoke on that island. Also, the gun Lightning uses after exiting the armoury does exist, and if there ever is a zombie apocalypse, I'll make sure I get one.

I'm also curious to know which set of characters people find the most interesting. We started with several groups:

1. Sazh and Dajh (Team Father and Son)

2. Lightning (Team Very Crazy)

3. Fang (Team A Little Bit Crazy)

4. Vanille (Team Way Crazy)

5. Nora and Hope (Team Mother and Son)

From there, however, the groups changed, with some running into others and so on:

1. Sazh and Dajh + Serah and Snow (Team Happy Families)

2. Lightning + Vanille (Team Totally Crazy)

3. Fang + Bahamut (Team Nature Lovers)

4. Nora and Hope + NORA (Team Lucky)

Let me know which team you enjoy following the most, and if you like, try suggesting an alternate team name.

Finally, I'd like to mention a few other things. As always, you can follow my blog at razieltwelve(period)wordpress(period)com for updates on the status of my stories, along with a host of other goodies. This time, it's an article on H. P. Lovecraft. If you're interested in who he was and what makes him special as a writer (at least to me), give it a look. You can also look at my tumblr (which has nothing to do with my stories) over at survivingaustralia(period)tumblr(period)com. And last of all, you can also try my deviant art at razieltwelve(period)deviantart(period)com.

And now, finally (really finally), I'd like to mention this thing that's going on with regards to Fang/Lightning February. You can find story prompts and other stuff over at fangrai(dash)February(period)tumblr(period)com. Drop by and lend everyone your support (and yes, I'm aware of how odd it seems to mention this in a story that is devoid of any FLight).

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Are you okay, Serah?"

The pink haired woman turned to look at Snow. What a strange question. None of them were okay. They hadn't been for months now. But that wasn't what he meant. He didn't know how to say what he meant.

"I'm not sure." Serah looked out the window at Bodhum – what was left of it, anyway. "I… I knew it would be the same here as everywhere else. I knew that it would be bad. But knowing that isn't the same as seeing it." She pressed her hands against the car window. "I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

Snow's hands tightened around the steering wheel. She'd always loved his hands, so big yet so gentle. He had a fighter's hands, but when he touched her, it was always so softly, like he was afraid she would break. Sometimes she wished he would be rougher with her. She wanted to feel his hands on her and know that she wasn't dreaming, that he was really there.

"It's not stupid. You grew up here. This was your home and now… now it isn't anything." He sighed. "It's a big damn graveyard."

Serah bit her lip until she was sure it would bleed. Snow was right. Bodhum was every bit as dead as everywhere else they'd been. Rubble and garbage littered the streets, and great waves of debris clung to the shore. They'd seen a few Infected picking through the remains of an outdoor theatre, and in the rear-view mirror, a pack of feral dogs tore into a corpse that couldn't be more than a few days old. Someone had managed to get all the way here, and now they were dead, left to the dogs.

But the worst thing was that she could still recognise most of the places they passed. They were by the sea now, on their way to the pier to see if they could find a boat to take them over to the island where, hopefully, they'd be safe. They weren't far from her house, and she'd spent almost her whole life walking these streets.

There, on the left, was the burnt out skeleton of the ice cream shop that Lightning always took her to when she'd finished her school exams. Her lips trembled, and she clutched her hands together so hard that Snow had to reach over and pry them apart before she hurt herself.

Now, they were passing by the shops that lined the streets opposite the beach. There! Right there was the store where she liked to buy her clothes – cheap but tasteful, since for a long time, there had never been quite enough money to go around. Right next to it was the jewellery store where Lightning had bought earrings for her – earrings she'd lost in the chaos of Eden City. And there was the little café she and Lightning always went to whenever her sister had the time. Lightning would order coffee and a blueberry muffin and Serah would order the same thing. And like clockwork, Serah would finish hers first and Lightning would cut her muffin in half and offer it to her.

She had to swallow a sob. Lightning had always been there to look after her – she'd even called to let Serah know she would be in Nautilus for a few days with her squad. It was supposed to be an easy job, a reward for all her good work. Look after all the revellers and then sneak onto a ride or two once her shift was over. But Serah wasn't stupid. She knew how things had really gone for her sister. The Infection had hit Nautilus every bit as hard as Eden. If it hadn't, help would have come by now.

It wouldn't do her any good to think about it, but Serah couldn't help herself. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her sister fighting, dragging her squad along because she'd never, ever leave someone behind. But they'd die – all of them – buried beneath the swell of Infected.

Lightning had always protected her, but who had protected Lightning when she'd needed it most? Had her sister died alone? Had she been in pain? Had she thought of Serah? That last one made Serah bow her head in shame. She knew Lightning. The older woman's thoughts wouldn't have been about herself – they would have been about Serah. That was why Serah had to live. She wouldn't let all of Lightning's sacrifices be in vain. Someone had to remember her sister. Someone had to remember all the little things that made Lightning who she was. Lightning deserved better than to lie dead and forgotten in some gutter so many miles from home.

"Serah." Snow stopped and struggled to find the right words. "Sazh didn't ask, but I don't think he'd mind if we talked to him. Are you sure you don't want to stop at your house?"

And then, to her shame, Serah began to cry. She thought she was tougher now, that all the months of fighting and killing and running had made her strong. But she couldn't go back to that house now. She couldn't go back to the only home she'd ever know just to see it in ruins with every inch of it a reminder of what she'd lost.

"No." Serah scrubbed at her cheeks and willed the tears to stop. "I don't want to see it. We need to get to that island, Snow."

"All right." Snow's gaze moved to the four-wheel drive ahead of them. Sazh had healed up pretty well since they'd almost lost him, but he'd lost half a step when it came to speed. The older man hid it well, but he still had a long way to go before he felt fine. Serah had done her best to patch him up, but without a proper hospital and medication, it could take weeks for Sazh to feel normal – if he ever did again. "We're getting close to the pier now. You'll have to show us the way once we get there."

Serah nodded. "I can do that. And Snow, if Sazh asks, I wasn't crying."

"He'll know, Serah. He isn't stupid."

"Maybe, but he'll know not to ask about it. He's good that way." Serah wiped her face with a cloth. Sazh had a lot to cry about, but he'd never given himself the luxury. "If Dajh asks, I'll tell him I stubbed my toe on something."

"That might actually work." Snow reached over to squeeze her hand. His touch was gentle, though his hand was so much bigger than hers. "But you know, it's all right to cry about stuff like this."

"You big softie." She squeezed his hand back, feeling all the calluses she'd come to know so well over the past few months.

"Only for you." Snow eased the car to a stop. "Now look sharp, we're here."

Serah climbed out of the car, stopping only to make sure that her hunting rifle was loaded and that her pistol and knife were in place. Their plan was simple: they would get to the piers, find a boat and then load up half their supplies and half their ammunition. If things went wrong at the island, they wouldn't need the rest of their supplies. But if things went right, they could always come back for the rest. And at least this way if something happened to the boat, they wouldn't lose everything.

The piers were a mess much like the rest of Bodhum. The one closest to them had been smashed to kindling – there was a ferry buried in it bow first. The ferry itself wasn't in much better shape. The bright green paint had begun to fleck away, and rust covered much of the bow and starboard areas. There had to be a hole below the water line as well, since the front end of the ship was several feet lower than the back. Not far away, a few turnstiles clattered in the sea breeze, garbage blowing past from bins that hadn't been emptied in months.

"Serah, can you lead us around?" Sazh asked. He'd hopped out of his car with Dajh and Chirpy. The little bird wasn't quite so little anymore. Instead, he was the size of a cat – too big to fit into Dajh's jacket pocket, but quick enough to keep up as they walked along.

"I can." Serah lifted her rifle. "We can skirt along the edge of the piers. All of the ferries are docked on this side and all the private boats are a bit further along."

"Sounds like a plan." Sazh nodded at Dajh. "Keep an eye on Chirpy, son. If he starts acting funny, let us know."

They crept through the waterfront together. Snow was up front with Serah over his shoulder and Sazh bringing up the rear. The boy and his chocobo were in the middle, and they hadn't gone more than a few steps before it became clear how little Chirpy liked being there. He wasn't trembling or hiding his face behind his wings, but his eyes hadn't stopped moving from place to place. They weren't alone.

The ferries they passed weren't fit for the sea. Months without maintenance had left them in poor condition, rusted or punctured from hitting the piers. There hadn't been time to moor them properly, or perhaps whoever had been on them had panicked or died. But as they reached the last of the ferries, Serah allowed herself to hope. This one had been moored securely, and the rust hadn't gotten to it as much as the others.

"Think we should have a look?" Sazh asked.

"I think so." Serah frowned. "But we need to be careful. There could still be Infected on it."

They had to find a plank so that Dajh and Chirpy could get into the ferry, but once they were on it, Chirpy began to shiver. Cheeping quietly, he huddled by Dajh's legs until the boy bent down and lifted him into his arms.

"There are Infected here, all right." Sazh pointed his shotgun around the passenger cabin. "So where are –" There was a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and he spun, finger on the trigger. "Dajh, get down!"

The boy ducked – and just in time. An Infected barrelled through the far doors, clothes all but rotted off its frame. It charged, shrieking and howling, its hands outstretched into claws. Sazh's shotgun roared, and the Infected flew back, blown almost in half. But another had come in from the stairs and glass flew every which way as another two broke in through the side windows.

"Damn it!" Sazh growled. "They must have been lying here all this time."

Serah brought her rifle up. In the cramped space of the cabin, there wouldn't be time for a second shot if she missed. As Snow blasted away another one with his shotgun, she squeezed off a round. The bullet hit one of the Infected coming through the window right between the eyes and blew out the back of its head. Sazh took care of the last one and slowly calm returned to the cabin.

"Stay here." Snow inched forward. "I'll check if they're dead." They were. "Serah, where's the helm?"

"Upstairs."

"The let's not waste any more time."

The door to the wheelhouse was locked, but Snow put his shoulder to it, and it wasn't long before it snapped open. It was empty inside, although there was some dried blood on the helm and the front window was broken. Serah's hands tightened around her rifle. Whoever had been manning the ship at the end must have been dragged out.

"Can you two take a look around and make sure that everything is okay? I can get things going here."

Sazh hadn't always been a good man. He'd done things as a kid that he wasn't proud of, and he'd spent the better part of a year on a boat getting straightened out the old fashioned way – with blood, sweat and tears. If any of them could get the ferry going, it was Sazh.

Serah shared a look with Snow. "All right. But be careful, Sazh. We'll be back soon."

X X X

"Are we going somewhere safe, daddy?"

Sazh opened and shut all the drawers and cabinets in his search for the keys. "Maybe son. I hope so."

After a good five minutes of tearing the place up, he finally found the keys tucked away into some maps in one of the bottom drawers beside the helm. This would make things much easier. He'd learned how to hotwire a car as a kid, but he wasn't sure how much of that would apply to a ferry.

"Listen, son. This place we're going to. It isn't safe – not yet. That's why you and Chirpy need to stay close to me all the time and to do exactly as I say. But we can make it safe, okay, and then we won't have to be afraid anymore."

Dajh's smile was almost too bright for Sazh to bear. "Okay, daddy."

"Good. Now keep your eyes open while I get this thing started."

It took a few more minutes, but at last, the ferry gave a deep groan and the rumble of the engines filled the air. The control panels lit up and he bit back a smile. The fuel gauge read almost full.

"It's working!"

"Serah, Snow, how are things going?" Sazh shouted.

Serah and Snow appeared in front of the window. The big man had blood on his shirt, but otherwise, he seemed fine.

"We ran into a few Infected, but we're okay and they're gone." Snow grinned. "It sounds like everything's going fine."

"It is. Now we just have to double back for some supplies." Sazh glanced at Serah. "Think you can stay here with Dajh?"

"I can go, if you want." The pink haired woman knew how much he hated to be away from his son.

Sazh thought the offer over for a moment then shook his head. "I don't want this to take any longer than it has to, and I can carry more than you." He smiled faintly. "And I trust you with Dajh." There was more he wanted to say, but that was all he could bring himself to say. "Come on, Snow. Let's get going."

As the pair of them made their way back to their vehicles, Sazh kept a keen eye on their surroundings. At the same time though, he had a question or two he needed to ask.

"How's Serah holding up?" There was no use beating around the bush with someone like Snow, and he knew the other man liked to hear things straight up. That was one of the things he liked the most about him. Snow hated lying or being lied to.

"Not so good." Snow bit his lip. He'd talked to Sazh about this a few times as they'd gotten closer. He didn't like talking about Serah behind her back, but he couldn't keep this inside anymore and it wasn't like he could talk to Dajh or Chirpy. "She's trying not to think about it, but…"

"I know." Sazh peered around a corner and stepped over the remains of one of the Infected they'd killed earlier. It had been quick – a single shot from Serah's hunting rifle to the head. "If I saw my home town again, I'd be messed up too. Will she be okay though? We'll need her on that island."

"She'll be fine." Snow chuckled. "You saw her on the ferry. She might look small and delicate, but she's all steel inside. At least, she is now."

"I hope you're right." They were back at the cars. "Get our backpacks loaded, and I'll keep watch." He sighed. "I think two trips ought to be enough. Then we'll get the cars hidden in one of those alleys we passed. I doubt it will happen, but we don't want anyone passing by and stealing what we leave behind."

"You think there are other people here?"

"Probably not. But it's better to be safe than sorry." Sazh had lived by that mantra for months now, and he wasn't about to change.

"Fair enough." Snow dug into the backseat for the backpacks. "Keep an eye out, will you?"

Sazh was right. It took them two trips to get what they needed, and then they parked the cars in one of the alleys. Once they were done, they headed back to the ferry. It was hard not to be excited at the thought of somewhere safe, but he was smart enough to know that it wouldn't be easy. Nothing ever was anymore.

"Can we blow the horn?" Dajh asked.

"Not yet, Dajh." Sazh sighed. "We don't know if there are more bad things around. Once everything is safe, then we can blow the horn."

The little boy perked up and ran his fingers through Chirpy's feathers. The chocobo had taken up a position near the broken window and was preening as the stiff sea breeze filled the wheelhouse. Snow and Serah were outside enjoying the breeze too. "Hear that Chirpy?"

A few minutes late with the ferry angling away from the pier and toward the island – Sazh had bumped into a few things, but he felt he'd done well all things considered – and Serah and Snow came back into the wheelhouse. The pink haired woman had a map with her, which she spread across the table.

"This is where we are now." Serah pointed at the map. "Here's where we want to go."

"Why there?" Sazh asked. Serah hadn't pointed at the main pier for the island. Instead, she'd pointed at a much smaller one a few hundred yards away.

"The Infected don't move around much unless they're chasing after us." Serah's eyes narrowed and there was something almost ugly in her voice as she continued. "We'll run into a lot less of them if we go through the pier that wasn't used so much. It's open too, not boxed in like the other one, so if we need to run for it, we'll have a better chance."

That they probably wouldn't get far was left unsaid.

"Sounds like a plan." Sazh stared at the map. The research facility was made up of more than a dozen buildings close together. "That's a lot to clear out, Serah. I was hoping this wouldn't be so complicated."

"Most of those buildings are small." Serah nodded firmly. "The two buildings we're interested in are the tourism centre and the main research centre. I've been to both. If we can secure one, we should be able to use it as a safe place while we clear out the others."

"I see." Sazh pursed his lips. "So you're saying we go in there as quietly as we can and clear out one of those buildings."

"Yes. Then we can clear out the others one by one."

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

That hardness crept into Serah's voice again. "My sister brought her work home with her a lot. I wasn't supposed to read her reports or books, but I did. I needed to know what made her hurt inside so much."

Sazh's eyes softened. "It's all right, Serah. We'll get through this. And wherever that sister of yours is, I'm sure she's happy you're still around, and she's damn proud you've made it here."

Tears prickled at the corners of Serah's eyes. "I hope so. I really do."

X X X

Serah glanced through the scope of her rifle as Sazh eased the ferry against the pier. It would have been nice if they could be quieter – the ferry was the opposite of quiet – but the pounding waves and tearing winds would do a lot to hide the noise. Besides, there was no telling if they'd have been able to find another boat that worked. As Snow and Sazh moored the ferry, she kept a close watch over their surroundings.

The pier was nothing more than a few bits of wood jutting out into the sea. At the far end, there was a narrow stone staircase that led up to where all the buildings were. She glanced to the side. It was a good thing they'd avoided the other pier. A storm must have damaged it because it was a hair's breadth from falling apart.

"We'll need to be careful going up those stairs." Sazh scowled. "Too narrow for my liking."

"It's the only way." It was either that or scale the hill, which was rough and steep and covered in dense foliage. Serah rubbed her palms on the front of her pants. When had she started to sweat so much? "Let's move."

They inched their way up the stairs. Serah was glad it was only midmorning. The shrubbery on either side of them might be overgrown and they might have to push their way through it, but at least they could see. It would have been a nightmare to go this way at night. Finally, they reached the top of the stairs.

Serah's jaw clenched. The Infected had definitely reached the island. The two sheds closest to her had been torn apart like kindling. Buried beneath the rubble was a body, a lone leg sticking out. The blood dried on the ground around it couldn't be more than a few days old.

"Cover me."

Serah cleared away the rubble and then hissed. The body was definitely fresh and from the uniform, it belonged to one of the researchers. They must have tried to hole up here. But even with solar panels and water, they'd still need food. And food meant going back across the water to Bodhum. They must have brought the Infection back with them, and in a place like this, it would only have been a matter of time before it got out of hand.

"There are Infected here."

"Damn." Sazh glanced down at his son. "You heard her, Dajh. Keep an eye on Chirpy and stay close."

They crept past the ruined sheds and toward the tourism centre. Garbage was everywhere – all of the rubbish bins had been knocked over or ripped apart. The tourism centre and main research centre were on the opposite side of a large, open square. And in that square, amongst the wreckage of a dozen stalls and information stands, were the Infected. There were two dozen of them, and as the first one turned and bellowed at them, more of them began to appear from all the other buildings and side streets.

"Move…" Serah whispered as the Infected began to charge. "Run!"

They broke into a ragged run toward one of the larger buildings – there was no way they could get to the tourism centre or the main research centre through all the Infected – but halfway there, Dajh tripped over an empty soda can.

The boy went down, and Sazh turned, scooped him over his shoulder and ran, Chirpy following as best he could. Behind him, Serah and Snow turned, firing into the crowd of Infected.

"There's too many!" Sazh cursed as another crowd of Infected rushed in from the other direction. How many people had been on this island? "We need to find somewhere to hole up!"

Serah shot another one of the Infected in the head and looked around for somewhere, anywhere they might be safe. There was no time to look at the map, and even though she'd memorised it, her mind was a complete blank. She was going to get them all killed. After everything they'd been through, she was the one who was going to get them all killed.

Suddenly, her mind snapped back into action.

"This way!" She grabbed Snow and waved for Sazh to follow. "There's a maintenance building back here. We can hide in there." But as much as she wanted to sprint for the building, she couldn't. Sazh and Snow were carrying backpacks filled with supplies – heavy backpacks. "We won't make it in time. Drop the backpacks and run!"

Snow and Sazh took one look at the horde of Infected and did as she asked. They reached the maintenance building a few moments later and all but threw themselves through the doors.

"Barricade the doors!" Snow slammed the doors shut and yanked the leg off a metal chair to jam the doors closed. As the Infected pounded on the doors, he and Sazh grabbed anything they could find – tables, chairs, a shelf – and shoved it in front of the door. Serah helped as well, jaw clenched as she shoved an information stand toward the doors.

They were so busy with the doors that none of them heard the low growl come from behind them. But Chirpy did. As the first of the Infected behind them lunged at Dajh, the chocobo leapt to meet it. For all that he was small – and Chirpy was still very small – he was loud and he was vicious when he needed to be. The little bird pecked and clawed at the Infected's eyes and the ruckus was enough to steal Sazh's attention away from the Infected outside.

"Dajh!" Sazh dropped the stool he was holding and grabbed Dajh by the scruff of his shirt. There wasn't time to be gentle. He needed to get his son out of danger. "Chirpy, move!"

The chocobo must have understood because it jumped off as Sazh fired his shotgun. In the confines of the foyer, the blast was deafening, even over the howls of the Infected. Blood sprayed onto the ground, and Snow and Serah turned.

"There are more of them!" Serah glanced at Snow. "Keep barricading the doors. I'll help Sazh!"

But the words were hardly out of her mouth when another half dozen Infected charged. They came from the corridors of the maintenance building and from a storage closet on the opposite end of the foyer. Most of them still wore their uniforms. Sazh blew two of them away, eyes narrowed in grim determination, before the third one reached him. They went down, struggling, and Serah took a breath then fired a shot that went right through the Infected's temple. But then the other two reached her. Rather than try and get another shot off – there wasn't any time – she swung her rifle like a club. It clipped the first one over the side of the head, and the Infected tumbled to the ground, hissing and spitting. Then she drew her pistol and fired four shots in rapid succession, two into the one still on its feet and another two into the one she'd knocked down.

Her breathing was coming in great gasps now and the edges of her vision had begun to blur. How fast was her heart beating? She wasn't sure, but it was like thunder in her ears. More Infected came, and Sazh stumbled back to his feet. He fired again and again, and Serah turned back to her rifle and joined him. The foyer wasn't that big, which helped, but that meant they didn't have the luxury of missing. Every shot needed to count, or the Infected would be on them in a flash.

One of her shots went wide and another one of the Infected closed the gap. Behind her, Snow bellowed, but he couldn't help, not when the furniture he was piling in front of the door was the only thing keeping the other horde of Infected out. She blazed away with her pistol, but the weapon only managed two shots before it jammed. For a split-second she could only stare stupidly at it, before she scrabbled for the knife at her waist.

The Infected slammed her into the front counter, and the hard wood dug into her back. Stars flashed in front of her, and she jammed her knife up into its gut. It wasn't enough – she needed to stab it in the head – but then Snow was there, and his face was terrifying to behold as he tore the Infected off her and threw it across the room. Sazh finished it with his shotgun, and inside the foyer, all was still.

"I've barricaded the front as much as I can," Snow said. "I think it'll hold."

Serah hobbled back to her rifle. "We need to make sure that there isn't anywhere else they can get in."

They did their best to ignore the hammering on the front doors as they moved through the maintenance building. It was terrible – an unrelenting clamour that echoed through every corridor and stairwell. The building wasn't that big, but there were a lot of rooms, most of them small. Cleaning supplies had been kept here along with the equipment needed to repair the facility's solar panels and other bits and pieces.

More Infected were in the building, and they dispatched them as best they could. Above them, the lights flickered on and off. The solar power still worked, but some of the lights needed to be replaced. One of the corridors was flooded – a bathroom basin had been left on.

At the backdoor, they found the last of the corpses. It couldn't have been more than a few days old. The middle-aged man had clawed at the door, but it had been barred shut and locked. The keys were on the floor, covered in his blood. The cause of death was clear from the wounds that covered his body: the Infected. As for the windows, all of them had been boarded shut. It was a perfect fortress – or it had been until someone had brought the Infection inside.

"We need to get up on the roof," Snow said. "We might be able to find a way out from there."

They took the largest stairwell they could find, and no sooner had they opened the door than two Infected were upon them. Sazh's shotgun rang out and the sound of it filled the stairwell. Serah fought the urge to cover her ears as Snow fired as well, his shot every bit as loud. Next to her, Dajh held Chirpy against his chest like a life preserver. The poor boy deserved better than this.

Out on the roof, there were more Infected. Serah shot one in the head and it tumbled off the roof to land amidst the crowd of Infected below. Snow and Sazh took care of the rest, and then they went over to the edge of the roof. Serah reeled back.

There had to be at least a hundred Infected down there, maybe more. She wasn't sure they had that many bullets. And as she watched more Infected came from other parts of the island, drawn by the sounds and smells.

Someone had tried to set up a safe zone here, but something had gone wrong and now everyone had become Infected.

"Daddy?" Dajh wrapped his arms around Sazh's leg. "What do we do?"

For the first time that Serah could remember, Sazh didn't have any words of comfort for his son. "I don't know, son. I don't know."

X X X

They went back inside after that and holed up in one of the rooms. None of them could bear to look at the crowd of Infected outside and the sounds of them clawing at the doors made Serah want to put her gun in her mouth and pull the trigger. The nearest building was too far to reach from the roof, and if they tried to run, they wouldn't get far. They were trapped. If only they had their backpacks, they might have enough ammunition to thin out the Infected from the roof, but she'd told Sazh and Snow to drop them. She'd been right then – they would have been run down with the heavy backpacks on – but being right didn't make her feel any better.

So they slept huddled together until Dajh gave a cry that woke all of them up.

"Look!"

Serah shook herself. Night had fallen. But through a crack in the wooden plank covering the window, she could see what had caught Dajh's attention. Fireworks. Someone had set off fireworks on the beach at Bodhum.

"There are other people there!" Sazh shook his head in wonder. "There have to be. If we could reach them…"

"How?" Snow asked.

It didn't matter that these people might not be friendly. They were dead unless they got help.

Serah looked around. There had to be something. She'd gotten them into this mess, and she would get them out of it. Then it hit her. Her parents had taken her and Lightning to the beach many times when they were little, and every time there was a festival, they'd seen people lightning bonfires on the beach.

"Smoke signals!" Serah cried. "We'll send up smoke signals from the roof. They'll have to see them if they're still around in the morning."

Sazh gave a short, desperate laugh. "That's so crazy that it just might work."

X X X

Vanille climbed out of the car as Lightning's frown deepened. The smoke signals had continued unabated throughout the morning. But there was more.

"I know those smoke signals." Lightning's eyes were hard, ugly chips of sapphire. "They teach them in the Guardian Corps."

Vanille looked over her weapons. Good. Everything was ready. "What are they saying?"

"Help. Trapped. Help." Lightning pulled the boot open and grabbed a backpack full of ammunition. "There's someone there, Vanille, and they know Guardian Corps code." Her hands shook until she wrapped them around the straps of the backpack. "But don't think they're good because of that. In Nautilus… in Nautilus, a lot of Guardian Corps went bad. And look at me."

"We'll worry about that when we get there." Vanille put one hand on Lightning's wrist. She could feel the other woman trembling. And Lightning's hands – they didn't seem very different from hers at all. Those long, slender fingers that looked best when they were moving – quick and sharp – over weaponry were still now and pale. "But how are we going to get there?"

Lightning pulled her hand away. "We're going to steal a boat."

Despite the situation, Vanille laughed. "I've always wanted to do that, but I never could, since I used to live in the mountains and Fang was a ranger."

A pained look crossed Lightning's face. "All the other Guardian Corps officers knew that Serah was my sister. It used to drive her crazy when I asked them to watch out for her." She closed her eyes and did her best to focus on the sound of Vanille's breathing only a few feet away. Serah was gone. She needed to move on otherwise she'd lose her mind – if she hadn't already. And she'd made a promise to Vanille, whatever her promises were worth.

"Let's go."

They edged along the piers and a frisson of tension ran up through Vanille's spine as they came across the bodies of several Infected. They hadn't been there long, maybe a day or so. The blood was still fresh.

"Someone's been here." Lightning's eyes narrowed and Vanille saw that eerie glitter in them again. Whatever softness was left in Lightning vanished, replaced by the cold, brutal ruthlessness of a soldier who'd survived the end of the world. "If there's trouble, Vanille, shoot first and ask questions later. If anything happens to me, you take the car and run." Lightning handed Vanille the keys. "Leave me behind."

"No!" Vanille rounded on Lightning. "Stop doing that! I'm not leaving you behind and nothing's going to happen. We're going to be fine, and tonight we'll find more fireworks and –"

"Idiot." Lightning's lips twitched. "But maybe you're right." She lifted her rifle. "I promised you, didn't I? And I'll do my best to keep that promise. What else is there, anyway?"

Vanille didn't like the sound of that one bit, but it was the best she'd get. Together, they continued along the piers, and they came across more signs of other people. None of the ferries were in decent condition, but on one of the piers they found fresh footprints in the dust and ropes that had been freshly cut. Someone had taken a ferry.

"Well, what now? None of the ferries work."

"This way." Lightning led them further along the piers until they reached the area where smaller, private boats were moored.

"None of these look good." Vanille didn't know the first thing about boats, but the ones in front of them had clearly seen better days. Perhaps a storm had hit, but many of them had been smashed up against the pier, and others had tipped over. It would be the worst joke in the world if they survived the Infection only to drown on a leaky boat.

"You're right." Lightning's eyes scanned the waterfront. Finally, her gaze came to rest on several boathouses on the far end of the pier. "We can try those."

The first boathouse was locked, but a few gunshots made short work of that. As Lightning tossed the lock aside, Vanille peered into the darkness within.

"Lightning –"

The red head yelped as Lightning grabbed her and shoved her back. Vanille stumbled away as Lightning went down, an Infected on top of her. Three more Infected lurched out of the boathouse and Vanille raised her shotgun and fired. The blast caught the first of them square in the head, and it went down, blood spraying all over the door. Her next shot took care of the second, but by then the third was too close. It grabbed the gun, and she fought, struggling to wrench the weapon free only to be thrown off her feet as the Infected tossed her aside like a ragdoll. She skidded across the concrete and tasted blood when her head bumped into the ground. Where was Lightning? Why wasn't Lightning helping her? The only reason would be if… if…

Then the Infected lunged. It got its claws around her shoulders, and she drove one knee up into its chest in a desperate bid to force it back. Dimly, she was aware of a wet thud before a single gunshot rang out, and the Infected on top of her fell to the side.

Then she was up on her feet, Lightning's hands moving quickly over her as the other woman checked her for any injuries.

"Vanille!" Lightning shook her by the shoulders. "You stupid girl! What were you thinking? I told you what to do if an Infected grabs your gun! If it's too strong, you drop your gun and use your pistol or your knife. You don't stand there wrestling with it!"

"I'm sorry!" Vanille threw her arms around Lightning. The scent of gunpowder and blood clung to the older woman, but Vanille only burrowed her way deeper into Lightning's arms. A lifetime ago that smell would have driven her away, now it had come to mean everything in the world to her. Gunpowder and blood meant Lightning, and Lightning meant safety.

"Idiot. You can't make me promise you something and then die." Lightning dragged in a deep breath. "Come on, we need to see if there's a boat in here we can use."

The boat was in surprisingly good condition. And the sight of it made Vanille giggle. It really didn't make much sense to have something like this anymore. It was one of those fancy yachts that rich people had, not too big, but more than big enough for two people and some of their supplies. Lightning need some time to get the motor working, and then they went back for their supplies. Apart from some food and water, Lightning insisted on arming them to the teeth.

"How do you drive a boat?" Vanille asked as Lightning eased the boat out into the harbour.

"Watch."

"Can I try?" Vanille put on her most appealing smile.

Lightning looked from Vanille to the sea then shook her head. "No."

Vanille grinned. Well, at least she knew Lightning wanted to live otherwise she'd have let her drive. But as quickly as her mirth had come, it faded. The island was growing closer every moment, and she had no idea what they might find there.

X X X

"Vanille, use the binoculars and tell me what you see."

Vanille nodded. Lightning hadn't said much during the trip, though she had told Vanille how to work the boat in that cool, clinical voice she used whenever she wanted to explain something. If only they could stay out here on the open sea forever. With the wind in their face and the water around them, they didn't have to worry about anything. But sooner or later they'd have to go back to land and the Infected.

But for a moment, as they'd lingered in the middle of the harbour, Vanille had allowed herself to dream of an impossible future. In that future, Lightning would be happy and that hollowness behind her eyes would be filled with quiet cheer. The other woman wouldn't smile – Vanille had a feeling that even before things had gone bad, Lightning had rarely smiled – but that wouldn't matter. Vanille would know that she was happy and that was enough. But all dreams had to die in the end, and it wasn't the light of day that killed this one so much as the little voice in her head that still listened to reason. There weren't going to be any more happy endings, only tragedies of different scale.

With a quiet sigh, Vanille pointed the binoculars at the island. There was a ferry at one of the piers, although there didn't seem to be anyone on it. It might be a bit tight, but their boat would probably fit on the other side of the pier. As for the smoke, that was still coming, which would explain why there weren't any Infected at the pier. They'd probably been drawn to whoever was trapped up there. She told all of that to Lighting.

"We'll land at the dock. The Infected will find it harder to smell us with all the smoke, and if we're quiet, we may even be able to surprise them."

"There could be a lot of them though." Vanille hugged her shotgun. "I mean… what used to be there?"

"A marine research facility, a lighthouse and a tourist centre." Lightning looked away. "It might even have been safe there for a while."

"But… but…" If they could clear off all the Infected then – "Why didn't you say anything about this earlier?"

"I think you know why."

Vanille reeled. She knew exactly why. Not too long ago, Lightning been set on killing both of them. "Oh." What was she supposed to say now? "I…"

"We could live there, I suppose, if we cleared it out." Lightning out to sea and despite the fact they were only a few feet away, she had never looked so alone. "We might even last a few years."

"We'll worry about that later," Vanille whispered. Lightning didn't sound okay at all. She could practically hear the gears turning in the pink haired woman's mind – a wonderful mind when it came to killing things – as it considered all the possibilities. "What do we do once we land?"

A quick glance at all the weapons they'd brought was her answer. "Get all of those loaded. If things go bad – and they could go very bad – we may not have time to get them loaded or to reload the guns we're used to using. If that happens, it might be better to just grab another gun and keep shooting." Her lips twitched. "We even have a few grenades from the armoury in there. Have you ever thrown a grenade?"

Vanille shook her head. She'd never thrown a grenade, but she'd always wondered what it would be like. "No."

"It's not hard." A faint smile crossed Lightning's lips. "Pull the pin and then throw the grenade. You'll have four seconds. If you can, get behind cover."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yes, it does." Lightning's fingers traced a path across the barrel of her rifle. "I'm in the mood for a fight."

It wasn't long before they landed at the pier, and Vanille helped Lightning unload all their weaponry. There was a lot of it – too much for a simple fight. Lightning wanted to go to war. As they started up the stairs, the pink haired woman tossed Vanille the keys to the boat. If something went wrong, Vanille was supposed to run back to the boat and get away. But she had no intention of doing that. If Lightning died, Vanille wasn't stupid enough to think she'd last much longer. She would either go crazy or be killed by the Infected. It would be better to die with Lightning.

They split the weapons up into two backpacks, and Lightning took the lead up the stairs. Whoever had gotten there first had already cleared most of the shrubbery away, but even so, Lightning left nothing to chance. Her eyes moved over everything, narrowed in the cold, predator's gaze that Vanille had grown so accustomed to.

"Stay behind me." The barrel of Lightning's rifle was trained at the top of the stairs. "Once we get to the top, the buildings won't be far. If we're lucky we won't be spotted. If not, we'll be caught out in the open. Remember, shoot first and ask questions later."

"Right." Vanille's usual shotgun dangled from a strap around her shoulder. Instead, she carried one of the rifles they'd taken from the armoury. In front of her, Lightning had the heavy-duty weapon she'd used back in the armoury – a cross between a shotgun and an assault rifle. Vanille had tried to use it once, but the kick and the weight were too much for her to handle.

"Come on." However close to the edge she was, Lightning was all business now that she had something to fight. "If there's shooting, keep low and don't run in straight lines."

At the top of the stairs, Lightning waved Vanille back and then darted forward. A moment later, Lightning gave the signal for her to come up. Hidden behind a ruined shed, the two of them looked down the street. There were scores of Infected clustered around the building where all of the smoke was coming from.

"I don't think they've noticed us."

"What do we do?" Vanille asked. The Infected must have spent almost an entire day hammering at the doors of the building.

"We kill all of them. And if the people in that building are bad, we kill them too." Lightning bared her teeth. "I'll go in first. Let me shoot. If any of them get closer than twenty yards, put them down. And remember, Vanille, choose your shots."

Vanille gulped. This plan was insane. What kind of person picked a fight with a hundred of the Infected? Someone carrying enough weaponry to wage a small war, that's who. And there wasn't really any other way to go about it. If they wanted to help the people in that building then they needed to kill the Infected. At least the street here wasn't wide enough for all of the Infected to attack them at once, and there were narrowed side streets and gaps between buildings where they could retreat.

"Vanille, are you ready?"

The Infected continued to pound and claw at the doors. With each moment, their howls and cries grew louder. Vanille didn't want the world to end like this, but if it had to, at least she'd get to face it all with Lightning. "I'm ready."

Lightning strode out into the middle of the street and opened fire. The roar of her gun was a single unbroken peal of metal thunder, punctuated by the deep, wet thud of metal rending flesh. The sound of it echoed off the buildings, and Vanille fought the urge to cover her ears. The onslaught shredded the Infected closest to Lightning, and as the others turned and charged, she stood firm, her whole body braced against the recoil of her weapon, her fine features wrought into a snarl.

This was personal, Vanille realised. Lightning would never be able to save Serah but this – each kill, each death – was a way of atoning for that mistake. Every one of the Infected was a reminder of her failure, and Lightning wanted to wipe all of it away. She would do the only thing she could – fight – and she would do it until there was nothing left.

On and on it went, until at last the gun clicked empty. But there was no time to reload it. The heavy drum magazine was cumbersome to replace, and more Infected had already closed the gap. Lightning dropped the weapon and went for the rifle she'd carried with her since Nautilus. She'd killed dozens of Infected with it already, what were a few dozen more?

Behind Lightning, Vanille raised her rifle to her shoulder and fired. She couldn't snap off a head shot the way Lightning could, but months of running, hiding and fighting had taught her well. Never mind the way the rifle dug into her shoulder with each shot, Lightning was counting on her, and she refused to let the other woman down.

Vanille's rifle barked, spitting four or five shots at a time. They were ugly shots – some to the chest, others to the legs and only a few to the head – but they bought Lightning the time she needed. The pink haired woman dropped Infected after Infected with ruthless precision.

But there were so many Infected. Lightning backed up, still shooting, and Vanille hurried to cover her as the other woman was forced to squeeze off a few shots from her pistol before reloading her rifle.

"Vanille!" Lightning barked. "Grenade!"

It took a moment for Lightning's words to sink in. Grenade? Vanille almost dropped her rifle in her haste to pull a grenade out of her backpack. Remembering Lightning's instructions, she yanked the pin out and then hurled it toward the mass of Infected.

"What now?"

"Move!"

Lightning grabbed Vanille and pulled the two of them around the corner of a nearby building. The grenade exploded a second later, and the ground shook as clods of dirt flew every which way along with bits and pieces of the Infected. Vanille swayed, ears ringing, and Lightning tugged two more grenades out of her backpack and hurled them around the corner. The manic screams of the Infected were once again drowned out by the roar of an explosion, and Vanille found herself on the ground, staring up at Lightning.

"Get up!" Lightning barked.

Vanille stumbled, tripped and then sagged against the side of the building. Her ears were still ringing and the whole world seemed to have slowed down. She could see Lightning a few feet away, leaning around the corner so she could spray bullets into the Infected that had survived the grenades. The pink haired woman's lips were moving, but Vanille couldn't hear a thing she said. Was she screaming? Was she crying? And then the familiar weight of her shotgun was in her hands as Lightning pulled Vanille to her feet.

"Vanille, I need you to fight."

Lightning needed her? Vanille shook her head to try and clear it and then stumbled around the corner. One of the Infected was on her at once, but she'd been in this situations so many times, she didn't even need to think about it. Her shotgun tore the Infected almost in half, and she barely even noticed the gore as she lined up her next shot.

The Infected were everywhere. They'd killed dozens of them already, and still more of them came, scrambling over the corpses of the others. Vanille fired her shotgun again and again, and when it was empty, she pulled a submachine gun from her backpack and used that instead.

Beside Vanille, Lightning continued to blaze away with her rifle. More than once, she'd been forced to stop and reload, but the motion was so ingrained in her that it took almost no time at all. Aim. Shoot. Aim. Shoot. It was the same thing over and over again, and right now, Lightning's entire world was what she saw down the barrel of her gun.

Watching Lightning kill with an efficiency that should have frightened her, Vanille realised something, and it nearly broke her heart. That rifle was Lightning. It was battered and worn, and it probably wouldn't last much longer, because of all the use it had seen, but there was still something beautiful about it. It was the strength it had, a strength that could only come from hard use and deep exhaustion. Lightning's slim finger on the trigger, her blue eyes gazing down the barrel, and her pink hair kicked back by the wind and the shove of the rifle against her shoulder. Woman and weapon doing the only thing they knew how to do, the only thing there was to do now that the world had gone to pieces.

Another Infected leapt at Vanille from behind, and she turned, riddling it with bullets. Another lunged from the side, and Lightning dropped it in it tracks. Then Lightning's rifle jammed and without a moment's hesitation, she tossed it to the ground. Her hand swept down to pull her pistol from its holster, and she fired with that until she had enough room to go for the rifle in her backpack.

The whole time, they'd been moving toward one of the side streets. Now, Lightning turned and pointed to a narrow gap between two buildings.

"There's too many of them. We need to get somewhere narrower. Come on."

Vanille nodded and followed as Lightning sprinted down the street. The Infected gave chase, howling and screaming.

"Move!" Lightning shouted. "Come on, Vanille! Run!"

Pain rippled through Vanille's side. She was trying her best, but the backpack full of weaponry was heavy and she'd never been very fast. Behind her, the Infected were gaining, and she forced herself to push on. But she could barely breathe now, and flashes of white coloured her vision.

"Keep going!" Lightning stopped, turned, fired and three of the Infected went down.

Vanille staggered the last few yards to the narrow gap between the two buildings. She shrugged off her backpack and sank onto her knees. She needed time to rest, to breathe.

"Not yet, Vanille. We're not done yet." Lightning shoved a gun into Vanille's hands. "Keep fighting."

Something close to a sob burst from Vanille's lips. There was nothing right about this. They were stuck between two buildings firing into a mass of screaming, raging Infected. These things had been people once. Most of them still had clothes on, and Vanille was blowing their faces off, shooting until their heads and chests became splatters of mangled flesh and blood on the walls. Bile burned at the back of her throat, and still she kept on shooting and shooting because what else could she do?

Vanille's shoulder hurt. Her sides hurt. Her ears hurt. Everything hurt. And then suddenly… suddenly there were no more Infected. Lightning had stopped shooting. The gun slipped from Vanille's fingers, and she stared at everything as if seeing it for the first time. The Infected were piled up in front of them, arms and legs thrust in different directions, chests riddled with bullets and heads filled with holes. Blood had turned the dust around the pile of bodies into a reddish brown mud.

"Don't look," Lightning murmured as she half-carried, half-dragged Vanille back toward the building where the smoke signals had come from.

But Vanille couldn't help but look. They'd killed all the Infected. Somehow, they'd done it. But she didn't feel any better. She didn't feel any stronger. Her lips twitched and she fought to keep down a burst of mad laughter. She hadn't even noticed that at least a dozen of the Infected had been children.

"You didn't kill them." Lightning's words cut through the haze. "I shot the children. You only killed the adults."

It was a lie. It was a big damn lie.

"Okay." Sometimes lies were better than the truth. "What… what do we do now?"

"Call out to the people in the building," Lightning said as she pulled them around the corner of a nearby building. "Tell them to come out slowly where we can see them. Tell them to put down any weapons they might have."

Vanille did.

"Fine." The reply came from an older sounding man. "But we've got a child with us. Don't shoot."

Vanille wanted to cry. "We won't!" she shouted. "We won't shoot unless you make us. We don't shoot children!"

"Good." Lightning nodded at Vanille. "Stay here and run if anything happens." Then she stepped around the corner to get a better look at the people they'd saved.

As quickly as she could, Vanille reloaded her shotgun. She didn't care what Lightning said. If something happened, she'd shoot every damn one of them to keep Lightning safe. What about the child? No, even if things went bad, she wouldn't shoot the child. But what if the child tried to shoot them? No. Not even then. But deep down inside, she knew what choice she would make. She wanted to live, and she wanted Lightning to live, and she wanted so, so much for these people to be good so they could all get along and maybe… maybe then Lightning wouldn't be so empty inside. Maybe then Lightning could feel like she'd saved somebody worth saving. And maybe then the world would make sense again.

As Lightning moved out into the open, Vanille peered around the corner. The first man to come out of the building had dark skin. He lowered his shotgun to the ground under Lightning's watchful gaze, the pink haired woman's rifle trained on him the entire time. There were two other adults behind him, but Vanille couldn't get a good look at them with the sun in her eyes. But Lightning could see them, and what she saw must have terrified her.

Lightning took one slow step back after another. In her hands, the rifle began to shake so badly she could barely keep it pointed forward. Vanille rushed out to help, and what she saw floored her. Serah Farron was standing right there, almost exactly the way Vanille remembered her from university. True, they hadn't been close, but there weren't that many people with pink hair.

Serah's lips were moving, but Vanille couldn't hear her. All she could hear was Lightning.

"Not real…" Lightning whispered as she shook her head from one side to the other. Her breathing came in fast, wheezing gasps, and a cold sweat had broken out across her brow. Her eyes were wide and staring, glazed and filled with horror. Why?

And then Vanille got it.

Serah was alive. And Lightning hadn't been the one to keep her that way. Lightning had failed – at least, that's how she'd think about it. Lightning had left and Serah had survived without her. In Lightning's mind it would be the ultimate betrayal. She'd given up on Serah being alive, but Serah had survived.

But it was worse than that.

A feral snarl twisted Lightning's features, and she brought her rifle up. "You're not real!" Lightning screamed, and Vanille flinched back. She'd never seen Lightning so angry. "Serah is dead and you're not real. None of this is real. I stopped looking, and I'd never stop looking, not unless she was dead so you can't be real!"

Lightning's arm twitched and Vanille saw her finger tighten around the trigger, so she did the only thing she could. She hurled herself at the other woman. The shot went high, punching a hole in one of the boarded up windows. They rolled end over end, and it was a testament to everything that was wrong with Lightning that Vanille managed to wrestle the rifle out of her hands. Vanille stripped the magazine out of the rifle and tossed the gun aside.

"Lightning, stop!" Vanille screamed as Lightning clawed and thrashed, her movements devoid of her usual skill. "Stop! That's Serah – your Serah, and she's alive."

"She's not!" Lightning's chest heaved, her breathing coming so fast it was a wonder she hadn't passed out. The words came out as a wail, and Vanille stilled as Lightning began to weep, curling up on herself and burying her face in her hands. "It can't be her. I gave up on her, and she died. This isn't real. This is just another dream, just another, another –"

Lightning passed out.

Tears trickled down Vanille's cheeks, but she couldn't find the strength to wipe them away. Then she heard the footsteps behind her.

"Stay back!" Vanille drew her pistol. "Don't come any closer!"

They stopped, and slowly, Vanille lowered her gun. There was nothing but understanding in the dark skinned man's eyes and the big man – the one who should have looked scary – just looked sad, so sad. And Serah… the pink haired woman was crying harder than Vanille had ever seen anyone cry.

"Please…" Serah dropped to her knees beside Vanille and stretched her arms out. "Please."

Vanille looked down. She hadn't even realised. She was holding Lightning, the other woman pulled flush against her chest with one hand as the other held her pistol. A tremor ran through her, and she put her pistol down, but her other hand refused to let go of Lightning. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Lightning was supposed to be strong, and if she wasn't, then Vanille had to look after her until she was strong again.

"Please." Serah's voice was soft and broken. "Please let me hold her."

Vanille wouldn't let go of Lightning – she couldn't. But Serah was Lighting's sister, and Vanile was… was… was some dumb kid Lightning had run into in Eden City. She wasn't anything. Her whole body shook, but she forced herself to move, to let Serah cup Lightning's pale cheeks in her hands. Even unconscious, Lightning's face was a mask of pain.

"She thought you were dead." Vanille tightened her hold on Lightning. "We both did."

That was too much for Serah. With a wild cry, she flung herself at Lightning and began to sob, her face buried in her sister's chest.

"We should go inside," the older man said. Behind him were a young boy and a chocobo. "We haven't cleared out the other buildings, but the one we came out of is safe. We could set up there for a while."

Vanille nodded, but as she and Serah stood, the big man came forward to help. She waved him off. Despite how awkward it was she needed to be the one to carry Lightning.

"Let me carry her."

"No." Vanille's back creaked, but her mind was made up. "She's carried me long enough. Let me carry her at least this once."

Serah stared at her for a moment, and then she smiled, and even with all the tears, it was a beautiful smile. Eyes filled with warmth, she ran her fingers along Vanille's cheek. "I get it. She carried me too when we were younger."

Then they went into the building. Lightning would have called Vanille foolish for trusting these people so quickly, but Serah was with them, and they'd had several opportunities already to get the drop on her. Besides, it was hard not to trust a man who'd somehow managed to keep a boy and his pet chocobo alive through the Infection.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

This chapter has been a long time coming, and now that I've written it, I'm not quite sure what to make of it. I had always planned for Lightning to find Serah again, but as her problems (of the mental variety) got worse and worse, it became increasingly obvious that their meeting couldn't be a simple affair. Lightning believed that Serah was dead, and as hard as it was, she made some kind of peace with that. Seeing Serah alive – knowing that she gave up and stopped looking – is not something she can easily accept.

This chapter is also one of the first where we look through Serah's eyes. Normally the chapters with Sazh in them are shown through his eyes, but I think this time it needed to be Serah. Seeing the ruins of Bodhum affects her more deeply than Sazh or Snow. Bodhum was her home, and seeing it like that could only have reminded her of Lightning and what she thinks must have happened to her older sister.

As for the massive running battle with the Infected, Lightning and Vanille had a number of advantages. Foremost amongst all of these was their possession of an arsenal of high-powered weapons. Given room and the time to fire, those kinds of weapons will mow down a crowd of people. Vanille's confusion during the battle stems from the fact that she's never had to find a battle this big. During the major outbreak, she and her friends hid. In contrast, Lightning fought in Nautilus with the rest of the Guardian Corps until they were overrun.

With regards to the rest of the story, we're getting to the end now. I think there will be two more chapters (one of them an epilogue of sorts), and then I'll release a chapter with more detailed author's notes. Some of those may amuse you (e.g., the half page scribble that started this whole story, not to mention the fact that according to the original plan, Nora should have died ages ago and Hope should be with Fang!).

Finally, I want to mention a few things. Some people have asked about what I'm going to do after I've finished this story. Well, I'm going to start hammering away at _Whispers of the Gods_, for one. However, I also intend to start another project. Fans of anime (or people who've been reading my deviant art or blog) will probably recognise what it's about based on the title: Final/Fantasy. If that isn't enough of a clue, I'll say this. The only thing cooler than Lancer!Fang is Saber!Lightning. Oh yeah. I've also updated _Final Fantasy XIII Omake Theatre_, so if you want to know which pet (Chirpy vs Mr Cuddles) reigns supreme in Diana's affections, take a look.

On an unrelated note, in the next month or so, I will be releasing three short stories on Amazon as eBooks (the term short story is deceptive, since they are each between 15,000 and 20,000 words long). One is a high fantasy, another is a darker fantasy, and the third is a paranormal Western. If you want to follow what's going on with those, I'll keep you updated on my blog and deviant art (see my profile for links).

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Lightning looked so very fragile on the makeshift bed they'd cobbled together. It wasn't much, just an old mattress they'd found shoved in the back of a storeroom. The blanket was little better: a thin, scratchy, threadbare thing that Vanille wouldn't have looked at twice if the situation hadn't been so desperate.

Lightning deserved so much better.

Vanille hadn't moved at all since they'd put Lightning there. She was dimly aware of the others, Serah most of all. The pink haired woman had sobbed and stared as they'd gotten Lightning settled under the blanket. Since then, however, Serah had been in and out of the room, never looking at Lightning, never looking at Vanille.

As for the others, Snow and Sazh kept a close watch by the doors. No Infected had emerged from the earlier carnage, but it was better to be safe than sorry. In the meantime, Dajh and his little chocobo, Chirpy, played in the large staffroom next door. Vanille could hear them, the boy talking softly – a softness he must have learned in the long, dark months after the Infection – and the chocobo cheeping quietly as it helped Dajh build a castle out of a few empty cans.

Lightning's breathing had evened out in the hours since her collapse, but she hadn't woken up. Instead, she was restless, shifting back and forth under the blanket. Vanille didn't know what to do. She didn't even know if Lightning would wake up. Lightning was broken on the inside, broken so badly that maybe nothing could ever put her together again. For a while, Vanille had held her together, but seeing Serah had ripped the wounds in Lightning's soul wide open.

Losing Serah had almost broken Lightning. Find Serah could very well finish the job.

Vanille heard the shuffle of feet, and Serah was there again. Serah wrung her hands together, stopped at Lightning's bedside, paused, and then turned to leave. But this time, Vanille wouldn't let her.

"Why won't you look at her?" Vanille got to her feet. "Why?"

Serah's eyes found hers, and Vanille froze. Serah's eyes were so much like Lightning's, and deep inside, Vanille felt something inside her clench. It hurt.

"Tell me!" Vanille was shouting before she knew what she was doing, and Sazh appeared at the door, his dark eyes narrowing faintly as he urged Dajh to go back to building his castle. "You're her sister! Why won't you look at her anymore?"

"I –"

"Tell me!" Vanille grabbed Serah by the collar of her shirt. She shoved the other woman back until she hit the wall. "She's lying there, and you won't even look at her anymore! What's wrong with you? Don't you even care?"

And then suddenly, Vanille was tumbling back, and Serah was shouting, shouting so loud it was a miracle that Lightning didn't wake up.

"Of course I care! She's my sister. I love her! But how can I look at her? It's my fault she's like that! She thinks she let me down, but that's not true at all. I'm the one… I'm the one who should be sorry. It should be me lying there, not her!"

Vanille sagged back against the far wall. Serah was crying and trembling, and she collapsed onto the edge of Lightning's bed. For the first time in hours, Serah looked at Lightning, and the look in her eyes was so hollow, so broken that Vanille couldn't find it in her to be angry anymore. She'd been wrong. Serah cared – that's why she couldn't look at Lightning. It hurt too much to look.

Slowly, Serah's tears dried, and her voice when she spoke was soft and rough at the same time. "I bet, she never told you about our parents, did she? I bet, she never told you how much she gave up so that we could keep going, so that I could keep going."

A single tear trickled down Vanille's cheek. Lightning had rarely spoken of her past. What little she knew was cobbled together from the things Lightning muttered in her sleep and the few unguarded moments they'd shared. Lightning should be the one to tell her these things, but she couldn't. And Vanille wanted to know more. She had to know more.

"Then tell me." Vanille's voice shook. "Please."

"All right." Serah nodded slowly. "You brought my sister here. You've earned that much."

So Serah talked, and Vanille listened. No wonder Lightning hadn't told her. Lightning and Serah had lost their parents, and Lightning had been the one to keep them going. She'd given up everything to join the Guardian Corps, and she'd made sure that they had enough money to get by. Serah's education, their living expenses – Lightning had covered everything. And Serah… Serah had loved her sister as much as she'd hated what her sister had been forced to become.

Claire.

A soft name.

A weak name.

It was Lightning's real name, but it didn't sound right on Vanille's lips. Claire was dead. She'd died all those years ago, so that Lightning could live and look after Serah. Vanille didn't know a thing about Claire, but she understood Lightning. It all made a twisted kind of sense now, and Vanille couldn't help but sift through all the pieces.

Serah had been Lightning's reason to live for so long that the very idea that she'd failed to protect her – that all that hard work and sacrifice would be for nothing – was too much. If Serah was dead, then Lightning might as well be because Claire had died so that Lightning could look after Serah. If Claire was dead and Lightning had failed, who was left?

Nobody.

"Why?" Serah asked when she was done. "Why can't she see that it's not her fault? She went all the way to Eden City to look for me. There wasn't anything else she could do! None of this was her fault. Not a single damn thing."

Something that was almost a laugh burst from Vanille's lips. Lightning was something, all right. She'd hidden a whole side of herself from her sister. Of course she had. Lightning loved Serah, and she wouldn't have wanted Serah to know how much she'd given up for her. Lightning would have wanted Serah to be happy, to be free.

Then the Infection had happened, and everything had gone straight to hell.

"She gave up," Vanille said. "You were the only thing in her life that she gave a damn about." Serah shook her head, eyes wide with slowly dawning horror, but Vanille pressed on. It was cruel, and it was mean, but she had to say the words. Serah had to know how much her sister had given up. "She gave up everything for you because you were the most precious thing in the world to her. But then she gave up. She promised that she'd always keep you safe, but she failed. It wasn't fair, and it doesn't make sense, but she'll never forgive herself for giving up, for failing you."

"But –"

"And I helped her get that way." Vanille laughed and covered her face with her hands. "Can you believe it? I helped her get that way. I thought you were dead, so I told her to move on. I was the one who got her to give up. I wanted her to… to live for me, to look after me, and I was selfish and stupid and –"

"No!" Serah cried. "No." She rushed over and grabbed Vanille. "You kept her alive. You kept her going. And now she's here. And even if it takes me the rest of my life, I'm going to look after her. I'm going to put her back together because I know that she'd do the same for me. So thank you, thank you so much for bringing my sister back to me."

Vanille didn't know what to say. What could she say? Suddenly, being in that room was too much. Looking at Serah, at the person Lightning loved most in the whole world, was too hard. When Lightning woke up, the only person she'd care about would be Serah. She would look after Serah. And Vanille… Vanille would be all alone again with nothing except a bag of wallets and a video camera for company.

Before Serah could stop her, Vanille was out of the room, pushing past Sazh and into a quiet corner of the staffroom. She slumped down against the wall, eyes shut as if that could somehow keep the rest of the world at bay. What a joke! She couldn't even stop the tears from coursing down her cheeks.

It wasn't fair. It was supposed to be her and Lightning against the world. But now Serah was there, and Vanille should be happy because that meant Lightning had finally found her sister, but instead she was just hollow inside and jealous and that only made her feel worse. She'd finally found more people, but she'd never felt lonelier.

"Do you want some of my chocolate?"

Vanille looked up and was torn between crying and laughing. Dajh was standing in front her holding out a bar of chocolate. She couldn't even imagine how hard it must have been to find, but he was offering half of it to her. At her feet, Chirpy nuzzled against her ankles and then hopped up onto her lap. His feathers were smooth against her fingers, and she let her hands wander over the graceful curve of his back.

"Okay." She almost cried at how good the chocolate tasted. It was so sweet, and it was the same brand the matron had always bought for her when she'd been good and –

She was crying again.

Dajh backed away like he'd done something wrong. Blindly, she reached out and pulled him into her arms.

"Thank you." She was being stupid. These people – these people wouldn't leave her alone. Lightning would get better somehow. She had to, and Serah would help her. And Vanille would help too. And even if she wasn't the most important thing in Lightning's life anymore that was okay. They were both alive, and they had a fighting chance now. That had to be worth something, maybe everything.

"Sure." Dajh hugged her back awkwardly. "My daddy always says that it's good to be nice when you can." He grinned and showed her the chocolate bar hidden in the folds of his jacket. "See, I have another one. But daddy says I should only eat it if we get separated. It'll keep me from getting hungry until he finds me again."

"Don't worry, I don't think your daddy will ever let you get separated." Vanille's smile was watery. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sazh watching them. His expression was unreadable, but he made no move to take Dajh away from her.

Finally, Sazh spoke. "How about you help Snow with the cooking, son? I think we're having spaghetti tonight, and you know he always leaves the cans on the fire too long."

Dajh laughed and squirmed out of Vanille's arms. "Sure, daddy. Nobody likes eating burned spaghetti!"

As the boy and his chocobo ran off to keep an eye on Snow, Sazh came over and sat down next to Vanille. It was easier to talk that way, neither of them looking at each other. It helped too that Sazh had the kind of voice that settled someone down. He was a father with a father's voice, firm but gentle. When she'd been younger, Vanille had dreamed of being adopted by someone with a voice like that.

"He's a good kid," Vanille said. "The chocobo too."

"He takes after his mother. I was a troublemaker at his age. And you'd be surprised what Chirpy can do. He's saved us a few times already." Sazh grinned. "Before you and Lightning got here, one of the Infected almost got Dajh. Chirpy saved him, jumped right on that Infected and pecked away like he was covered in seeds."

"Really?" It was hard to imagine the little chocobo doing something like that, but then again, Chirpy never seemed to leave Dajh's side. "I…"

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. What happened… happened. This whole thing hasn't been good to any of us. I was lucky. I had my son. I had to stay right for him. He kept me sane. I overheard some of what you and Serah talked about. She and Snow had each other, you see, but you and Lightning… you two didn't find each other for quite a while. You were alone and being alone like that takes something out of a person, something that sometimes they never get back."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" It was a fair question. These people didn't know her. They had no real reason to trust her, just like she had no real reason to trust them. Well, there was Serah, but the Infection had changed a lot of people. Vanille had seen a lot of good people do a lot of very bad things.

"This world is bad enough without us turning on each other." Sazh's eyes hardened. "I want to be your friend, Vanille. But don't get me wrong. If you try something, I'll kill you. Dajh is my son, and Serah and Snow are like family now. I'd like it if maybe one day you and Lightning could be family too."

"I… I think I'd like that too."

"Good. But I don't think you'll try anything. The woman I saw carry Lightning in here on her back, the same woman who stayed at her bedside for hours, I don't think that woman is a bad person. Maybe a little strange but not bad."

Vanille got to her feet. "Thanks. I… we've got some supplies on the boat we came on. If one of you goes with me, I can bring them over here. There's food, ammunition, and better blankets and things."

"We could sure use those right now." Sazh nodded. "I guess I can go with you. Dajh is safer here, and Snow really does have a habit of burning the spaghetti."

Vanille giggled. She could get to like Sazh.

X X X

Dinner was… interesting.

Vanille was quiet for the most part, and not even Serah's pleas could convince her to eat outside of Lightning's room. In the end, they compromised. The others ate in the staffroom while Serah joined her in Lightning's room. It was a long shot, but perhaps the smell of the food of the food would reach the pink haired woman.

Before dinner, Vanille and Sazh had made several trips to bring supplies back to the building. They had encountered only a handful of Infected, and Vanille took careful note of how quickly Sazh dispatched them. He was good, Sazh, but not like Lightning. His skill was something he'd picked up along the way, rough but serviceable. Lightning was more like a sword, purpose built for killing the Infected.

Apart from the spaghetti, they had noodles and some canned vegetables. It was the closest thing to a feast that Vanille had eaten in months. During her meal and afterwards, Vanille kept a close eye on the others. It was a lesson that Lightning had drummed into head: always be aware of her surrounding, and always, always be ready for anything.

Serah was the one that Vanille was most familiar with, but even she had changed. She remembered Serah as being a cheerful, outgoing, young woman. But the Serah in front of her now was different. This Serah was quiet, and behind the gentle smiles she gave the others, there was tempered steel. Yet there was something fragile about her as well, something brittle that was easiest to see whenever she forced herself to look at Lightning.

Serah might have been tempered in the fire of the Infection, but even the best sword could be broken. Lightning was proof of that.

Snow was so easy to read that Vanille wondered if maybe he was trying to fool them. His voice was warm and loud without being threatening. What made her realise how nice he really was, was the way he treated Dajh. Ever mindful of his size – and Vanille had never seen anyone so big – Snow always made sure to bend down when he was talking with the boy. And when he sat, he always chose to sit on the floor so that he didn't tower over everyone else. They were little things, true, but they showed a consideration for others that was difficult to fake.

There was something familiar about Snow too. Vanille had probably seen him around the university although she couldn't quite place him. She could always ask him later. She had a feeling that he wouldn't mind telling her.

Sazh… Vanille liked him. She couldn't be sure why. She hadn't known him long enough. But he reminded her of the matron. From the way he made sure that Dajh's food was cool enough to eat to the way he fussed over Serah and Snow's bruises and cuts, it was clear that he was the father of the group. He'd lost his whole family apart from Dajh, but he'd picked up another one along the way.

An hour after dinner, while Vanille was watching Dajh build his castle out of old cans, Lightning woke up.

Faster than Vanille could believe, Lightning was on her feet and lurching into the staffroom. Lightning didn't seem to know where she was, and she certainly didn't seem to recognise Snow or Sazh. Dajh screamed as Lightning stumbled toward Sazh and through a wild punch. Sazh ducked under the blow, and Snow grabbed Lightning from behind. With a growl, Lightning stomped on one of his feet and drove the back of her head into his chin. Snow cursed and staggered back.

"Daddy!" Dajh yelled. "Watch out!"

Before Lightning could do anything else she'd regret, Vanille tackled her to the ground. Lightning struggled against her, and Vanille's eyes widened as Lightning reached for her knife – a knife that wasn't there anymore.

"Lightning!" Vanille shouted. "Lightning, stop! You're safe now!"

Lightning thrashed for a few more seconds before Vanille's words finally sank in. Then Lightning was shoving her away as she backed up against the wall. Lightning's breath came in great, furious, little gasps.

"What's going on?" Lightning's hands went to her side, but her pistol wasn't there. None of her weapons were there.

"Lightning?"

"Serah?" Lightning looked like she might pass out again. "Are you… are you real?"

"Yes." Serah rushed forward and threw her arms around Lightning. "I'm real."

Vanille watched as the sisters held each other and wept. Lightning's arms were wound around Serah so tightly that it was a wonder the younger woman hadn't tried to pull away.

"I think we should probably give them some time alone," Snow said as he rubbed his jaw.

All Vanille could do was nod. Lightning and Serah had eyes only for each other, whispering softly to one another. Now and again, Lightning's hands would come up to touch Serah's face only to stop just short. Was Lightning still afraid that all of this was a dream and that if she touched Serah everything would disappear?

"Dajh," Vanille whispered, turning her back on the two Farrons. "How about I help you build your castle?"

Lightning didn't need her anymore. Nobody did.

Vanille spent the rest of that night helping Dajh build his castle. If anyone thought it was strange, nobody said anything. Besides, by the time they were done, it was a pretty good castle. When it was finally time to sleep, Vanille was alone again. Snow was on watch, and Sazh and Dajh had gone off to sleep in one of the other rooms. Serah, of course, was still with Lightning.

For a while, Vanille sat in the staffroom, looking at everything and seeing none of it. She should find a room of her own to sleep in. There were blankets she could use in the corner, and they'd already cleared the building of any Infected. But before she went to sleep, she had to take one more look at Lightning. She had to know that she was leaving Lightning in better hands than her own.

As quietly as she could, she crept over to Lightning's room. The door was open, and she eased it a little wider, so she could look inside. Lightning looked sound asleep, and nestled in her arms was Serah. They looked perfect there, the two sisters together again, and Vanille felt that hollow ache inside her grow just a little bit bigger. She should be happy. Lightning deserved to have her fairy tale ending. But she wasn't happy. A night ago, it had been her in Lightning's arms. She'd felt safe then, like nothing in the world could hurt her.

She needed to leave now before she did something stupid. But as she turned to go, a familiar voice called out to stop her.

"Where are you going, Vanille?"

It was Lightning's voice, rough but gentle, the way it always got when the pink haired woman's memories got the better of her, and she had to say something or go insane.

"I… you've got Serah now." Vanille willed her feet to move, but they wouldn't budge even an inch. "You don't need me anymore."

Lightning shifted, Serah's head falling against her shoulder as she freed one arm. She patted the other side of the bed. "Don't stand there. Come here."

Vanille knew she should say no. Whatever she and Lightning were – whatever they had been – it was strange and broken, and it couldn't possibly be good for either of them. But she didn't say a thing. Instead, she walked over to the bed and settled in against Lightning's side.

The mattress was far too small to fit all of them properly. Her legs tangled with Lightning's, and she could feel one of Serah's hands brush across her stomach. But despite how uncomfortable it should have been, it felt right. She could smell Lightning and feel the familiar rise and fall of her chest. For so long, Lightning had meant safety and certainty, and for the first time since Lightning had passed out, Vanille felt whole again.

"Why?" Vanille whispered in the soft, breathing dark.

"Because I made you a promise." Lightning's arm pulled Vanille closer. "I gave up on Serah once, but I won't ever give up on her or anyone else ever again." She sighed. "Go to sleep. You're safe with me."

The words were barely out of Lightning's lips before her eyes drifted shut. But Vanille lingered, listening to Lightning's breathing slow and even out. It was like listening to the ocean, and Vanille's mind went back to that night on the beach: fireworks going off all around them and the waves lapping at the shore. Everything had been simple then. Now nothing was.

"I don't know what you are to my sister."

Vanille flinched. She hadn't even realised that Serah was still awake.

"But I know that you matter to her and that she matters to you. And that's… that's enough. For me, that's enough."

And then they were all asleep, drifting together into the only peaceful place left on the planet.

X X X

The next few weeks passed by in a blur of change and activity. Lightning couldn't remember the last time she'd felt hope, but she felt it now. She'd found Serah, and even if part of her would never forgive herself for giving up, most of her was glad just to have her sister back. Vanille was there too, and she was safe. They were all safe. At least, as safe as anybody could be with the world the way it was.

But the island needed a lot of work. She spent the first several days recovering. Her weakness – physical and mental – disgusted her, but she knew that she would only be a danger to herself and others if she couldn't get it together. It would take weeks, maybe even months, or years, before she was fully recovered – if she ever fully recovered.

It was surreal walking around and seeing Serah there. Her sister had changed. Serah was no longer the gentle, mischievous girl that Lightning remembered. She was a woman now, strong and tough. Lightning had always worried that Serah was made of glass, but for the first time she saw what Serah really was: steel. It hurt to think of what Serah had gone through to get that way, but Lightning was glad that her sister was strong enough to look after herself. The Infection had made its point all too clearly: Lightning wouldn't always be there for Serah.

Snow was another matter. Lightning could barely remember fighting him, but there was no denying his size. He was huge, but he carried himself so much smaller than he had to. It took her a while to realise why he did it – he didn't want to intimidate the others. And it was only later, watching Serah talk to him, that she realised how close they were.

It hurt. Her sister had fallen in love, and Lightning hadn't been there to see it. Worse, Serah hadn't told her. Perhaps she'd been worried that Lightning wasn't ready to know. There was some truth to that, but it still hurt. But regardless of Lightning's concerns, Snow did have one very big thing in his favour: he'd kept Serah safe. She'd heard firsthand from Serah about what Snow had done to keep her safe, about how she'd been the one to push the physical boundaries of their relationship. Trust Serah to stumble across one of the only gentlemen left in the world.

And Sazh – she understood him the best. He was like she was, only he'd protected his precious person. Dajh, the sweet little boy, reminded Lightning of a better time, right down to Chirpy, the chocobo who trailed after him everywhere he went. Sazh had managed to get his son a pet in the middle of the apocalypse. It was so absurd that she almost wanted to cry. Millions of people had been dying, and Sazh had gotten Dajh a chocobo. Even so, she couldn't help but respect him. Sazh looked after his own no matter how hard it was.

Almost a week after they arrived on the island, she led a sweep of the remaining buildings and nearby area. It was strange fighting with someone other than Vanille at her side, but the others knew how to handle themselves. In the end, they got the other buildings cleared out and moved into the main research centre. It was larger, and the facilities there were better.

But outside of fighting, she couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong with her. The others had learned to relax around each other, even Vanille, but she never had. Every snapped twig, every swift movement, every raised voice had her turning and jumping at shadows, her gun out and ready. No matter where they were, she was constantly looking over everything with a soldier's eye. An old bar of metal was a club to her, a broken piece of glass a knife. She would spend hours on patrol or checking their weapons. It scared the others sometimes, not that they'd ever admit it.

Only Vanille didn't look at her with pity because only Vanille knew what it was like to be alone, to have no one else to rely on. And when the others started talking and Lightning had to go somewhere else because they were just so loud and she couldn't trust herself to be near them without reaching for a weapon, it was Vanille who went with her. The red head would never say a thing. She didn't have to. It was enough that she was there.

It terrified Lightning to realise how much she'd come to rely on Vanille.

"Lightning, we're almost ready to go."

Lightning shook herself. She was losing herself in thought more and more often now and that needed to stop. They were going to make another supply run, and she couldn't afford to be careless. She was not going to lose anyone now, not after she'd finally found Serah again, not after Vanille finally had a place she could call home.

Home – that's what the island was now. Home.

Sazh had spent most of the past few weeks supervising them as they fixed as much of the island's machinery as they could. They had running water now and enough electricity from the solar panels to run the lights and a few other luxuries from time to time. They even had a proper stove, a wonder after so many months of scraping along on portable burners and the like.

However, there were some things they couldn't repair with what they had on the island. Apart from getting the materials they needed to fix up the buildings, they also had to find light bulbs and other electronic bits and pieces. Lightning also had plans for a proper perimeter fence with an alarm system, something they could hook up to the solar panels. They hadn't seen any other Infected on the island, but she refused to take any chances.

There were also long-term plans to consider. If they were going to make the island their home, then they needed to increase their food and water supplies. Water tanks in particular would be difficult to get across, but they would be worth it in the end. Serah also had plans for a garden and some livestock but all of that would have to come from the mainland. Vanille wanted any medical supplies they could scavenge.

"All right." Lightning nodded at Vanille. "I'll meet you and Snow near the pier in fifteen minutes."

The boat she and Vanille had taken was much easier to manoeuvre than the ferry, but the ferry was much, much larger. And being larger meant fewer trips, which meant less chances for the Infected to get them.

Snow and Vanille were already on the ferry when she arrived.

"What are we getting this time?" Snow grinned. "Am I going to have another crick in my back after this?"

Lightning's lips curled. "Maybe." Snow's size and strength were very handy when it came to loading things. "But stay sharp. There were Infected the last time we landed at the pier in Bodhum. They might be learning to recognise the ferry."

Snow frowned. That was a scary thought. "Right. It would be stupid if one of us got killed after everything we've been through. Anyway, what are we getting?"

"It's another supply run plus a few other things. Sazh needs some parts for the rainwater collection system he's putting together, and he wants us to see if we can find some spare parts for the generators we found. They've seen better days, but he thinks he could get them working again with a bit of fiddling."

"Are we really going to be able to find all of that?"

"Probably. I don't think people would have bothered looting any of it after the Infection."

"And don't forget my medicine!" Vanille shouted from the helm. After badgering Sazh into giving her lessons, the red head had become quite adept at driving the ferry. "It's a long shot, but if there's anything left that we can use, we need to get it now. I might have been studying medicine at university, but there's only so much I can do without the proper medication."

"We'll have to check the supermarkets and pharmacies then." Lightning frowned. "We didn't find much last time, but we haven't checked everywhere yet. We can look for some seeds too while we're there."

"You mean for Serah's garden?" Vanille started to ease the ferry away from the pier. "We found some last time, but I doubt we'll find any livestock. Bodhum wasn't exactly known for its farming."

"That's true. But rabbits were quite common as pets, and they aren't bad as food goes. If we could catch a few…"

"Catch a rabbit?" Snow chuckled. "That's easier said than done. Besides, with all the dogs around… I doubt there are any rabbits left."

Lightning's expression darkened. More and more feral dogs had appeared in the last few weeks, and they were getting bolder. She'd nearly lost Vanille to a pack of dogs once. She didn't plan on letting it happen again.

"Keep your eyes open then. One dog isn't a problem but twenty are."

X X X

Fang stopped the car and climbed out with Bahamut. She'd driven hard to get to Bodhum, and the wolf had been there every step of the way. He'd proven his worth a thousand times, fighting off Infected and warning her of danger. If he were a person, he'd be her best friend by now. As it was, she couldn't imagine how much harder her journey would have been on her own. Now, all she had to do was find Vanille.

Most of Bodhum was in ruins. The town had been devastated almost as badly as everywhere else she'd been. Infected wandered the streets and debris and garbage were strewn all over the place. It didn't look like there were any survivors, but she had to believe that somewhere amongst all of this Vanille was alive. Vanille had gone to see the beach – she'd written that on the wall of the hall at Eden City University – so Fang would meet her there. Then everything would be okay.

It had to work. It had to.

First, however, Fang needed to get something to eat. The last few towns she'd passed through had been in poor condition. The coming of spring had triggered floods, and those floods had swept away what little supplies she would normally have been able to salvage. But there were parts of Bodhum that still looked intact, and the supermarket in front of her seemed like a good place to start.

"All right, boy, let's go take a look." Fang scratched Bahamut under the chin then headed into the supermarket.

The wolf trailed behind her as she went from aisle to aisle, her shotgun at the ready. She got lucky. The supermarket hadn't been stripped bare yet. There were enough cans of food here to last her for weeks. She loaded her backpack with as much as she could carry and then made her way out of the supermarket. They hadn't run into any Infected either. Maybe, just maybe, her luck was beginning to change for the better.

And then Bahamut stopped and snarled.

Fang jerked to a halt. There was someone next to her car. She dropped her backpack and brought her shotgun around. This wasn't the first time she'd run into other people, and only a handful of them had been friendly. Now was not the time to take chances. Sensing her unease, Bahamut rushed forward, teeth bared. A massive, giant of man came from behind another car and threw his arms around the wolf. The two tumbled to the ground, Bahamut struggling to break free. Rage flashed through Fang. Nobody hurt Bahamut. She aimed the shotgun at the man, a blonde with blue eyes.

Something slammed into her. Fang stumbled back, skidding across the pavement as Bahamut tried to throw the man off. She rolled to her feet. She'd taken her eyes off the other person for a second, and she'd paid the price for it. Whoever this pink haired woman was, she was fast. And now, Fang had a rifle pointed at her.

With a snarl of her own, Fang lunged forward and knocked the rifle out of the other woman's hands. The weapon clattered to the ground, and they launched themselves at one another. Fang was strong and fast, but the last few weeks had been hard, hard work. Against most people it wouldn't have mattered, but this woman was strong too and even faster than her. And she was trained, very well trained.

They grappled for position, and Fang got her knife free. She shoved the woman onto the ground and brought the knife down with all the strength she could muster. She refused to die here, not when she was so close to finding Vanille. At the last moment, the woman dodged, and the knife hit nothing but concrete. Fang tried to slash at the side of her throat, but the woman twisted, upending them. The knife clattered to the ground, and Fang found herself face down, the woman's knee planted squarely in her back.

No. It wouldn't end like this. Fang bucked and threw the woman off. In flash, she went for her pistol, but the pink haired woman was too fast. She knocked the gun out of Fang's hands, and Fang found herself staring down the barrel of the other woman's pistol. Jaw clenched, Fang refused to look away. The other woman's eyes were a cold, ruthless blue.

"What are you waiting for?" Fang growled.

"Who are you?"

"Does it even –"

"Stop! Lightning, stop! That's Fang!"

Fang knew that voice, and from the way she acted, so did the pink haired woman. She looked at Fang with wide eyes and then stepped back. The pistol returned to its holster.

Then Vanille was there. The younger woman crashed into Fang, and the two of them tumbled to the ground. The back of Fang's head hit the pavement, but she hardly even felt the pain. Vanille was there, and she was okay!

"Fang! You came!"

"Of course, I did." Fang was crying, and she didn't care. "Of course, I did. You wrote that message on the side of the hall. You said you were going to Bodhum to see the beach, so of course I came. Did you think I wouldn't?"

"You found that message?" Vanille buried her face in Fang's chest.

"You little hooligan." Fang wrapped her arms around Vanille. The red head was a little thinner than she remembered, but her smell, her voice… everything else was just like she remembered. "I never gave up on you. I knew that somehow, someway we'd find each other."

Out of the corner of her eye, Fang saw the pink haired woman lurch back, a stricken look on her face.

Without letting go of Vanille, Fang got to her feet. "Vanille, who are these people?"

"The big guy is Snow." Vanille grinned and then pointed at the pink haired woman. "She's Lightning."

"Lightning?" Fang's eyes widened. "You mentioned her in your message."

"I did. Fang, she's been the one looking after me all this time. She's the reason I'm still alive."

"She is?" Fang's lips trembled. "Thank you," she said to Lightning. "Thank so much for looking after her. I –"

"Do something about your dog," Lightning said. "Before he ends up eating Snow."

"Oh." Bahamut was still trying to break out of Snow's grip. "Bahamut! Stop." She frowned. "And he's a wolf, not a dog."

Bahamut snarled a few more times then grew still. Slowly, Snow eased away although he continued to eye the animal warily.

"No hard feelings, I hope." Snow winced. "But when we saw you come out of the supermarket, we weren't sure if you'd be good or bad. After you pointed your gun at Lightning and your wolf charged…"

Fang was too happy to hold a grudge. "It's okay. I get it." She tightened her arms around Vanille. "How… how did you all meet each other?"

"That's a long story, but I guess I can tell you on the way."

"On the way to where?"

Vanille grinned. "You'll see."

X X X

The story that Vanille told only made Fang more anxious to hold her. So many times, her sister had almost lost her life. And on almost every occasion, Lightning had been the one to save her. There was more to the story too. Vanille might have changed a lot over the course of her journey, but Fang could still tell that she was leaving something out. It had to be bad then, the kind of thing Vanille didn't want her to know and worry about. Fang could guess what it was and whom it was about.

She'd seen it a few times as a ranger. Every now and then, retired members of the Guardian Corps and Sanctum Security came to Oerba. They always looked like Lightning: jittery, overly alert, and never resting for even a moment. Fang would bet every gun she had that Lightning was Guardian Corps. If Fang had to guess, Lightning had been right in the middle of things when the Infection hit. If she'd survived that, Lightning must be one hell of a soldier.

Fang had been lucky. She'd missed the initial outbreak, and she hadn't been alone for too long. She'd met Bahamut, and the wolf had become a trusted friend and companion. She had a feeling that Lightning hadn't met anyone she could trust until Vanille. No wonder Lightning seemed to be looking at everything as if it might be threat. When she'd been on her own, everything had been a threat.

When they arrived at the island, Fang was shocked by what she saw. They had working lights and running water. There was even a hot shower if she was willing to wait a few minutes. Compared to what they'd left behind in Bodhum, this place was like paradise. She needed to do things right here. These people were Vanille's friends, and this place had become Vanille's home.

Now that she knew Vanille was safe, Fang had to worry about Bahamut. The wolf had gotten used to her, but he wasn't used to all of these other people yet. If he attacked someone, there would be trouble. It didn't help either that he was eyeing the little boy's pet chocobo a little too keenly.

"Easy," Fang said as she rubbed Bahamut behind the ears. "These people are friends, Bahamut, and that chocobo is not for eating."

Fang spent the rest of that day beside Vanille. She followed the red head everywhere even down to the pier when Vanille went fishing. None of the others said anything about it, and she was glad for that. They understood. Lightning, who would normally have watched over Vanille, was content to let Fang take over for the day. Fang was beyond grateful for that. It was almost enough to make her forget that the pink haired woman had been about half a second from putting a bullet in her head back in Bodhum.

That night, Fang went to sleep curled up against Vanille with Bahamut at the foot of the bed. In the middle of the night, she woke to find Lightning asleep in a chair she'd pushed into one corner of the room. It was strange, but Vanille didn't seem to mind.

"It's okay," Vanille whispered. "Go back to sleep."

So Fang did. She was home.

X X X

Fang looked up as Dajh gave another excited yell. It had been more than a month since she'd arrived on the island, and she and Bahamut were finally settling in. The wolf was currently chasing after the little boy with Chirpy hitching a ride on his back. After a few close calls, the wolf and the chocobo had become fast friends. As for Dajh, the boy always had time to play with Bahamut, and the wolf had taken to him quickly. It helped that Dajh usually came with a treat in hand.

After so many days with no one but Bahamut for company, it was strange how quickly she'd changed her definition of normal.

Normal was watching over Serah as she tended to her garden.

Normal was helping Sazh put together another water tank.

And normal was chatting with all the others over a hot dinner as they discussed all they'd gotten done during the day and planned what they needed to do in the future.

The island was supposed to be free of Infected, but she went out on regular sweeps with Lightning. The soldier was paranoid about everything, but Fang could agree with her on the importance of being safe. No one ever went out alone, and no one ever went out without a gun.

Fang had come to know the others well, but Lightning remained the biggest puzzle of the bunch. There were things about her journey that Vanille still refused to talk about. When Fang asked, Vanille would always glance at Lightning and then explain that it wasn't for her to say. Something had happened between Vanille and Lightning on the road to Bodhum, something that was for only the pink haired woman to talk about. And it was still there between them. Sometimes, Fang would wake up to find Lightning sleeping in her chair in the corner, or sometimes she'd find Vanille creeping off to sleep in Lightning's bed. It bothered Fang that Vanille did this without telling her, but she didn't have the heart to make a fuss. Lightning had saved Vanille's life so many times. She deserved whatever affection Vanille gave her.

But in some ways, Lightning was easy to understand. She and Fang were the most trained in combat, and Fang found a willing training partner in the other woman. It made her wonder how they would have gotten along if the Infection hadn't happened. At the very least, she could say that she trusted Lightning with her life and the other woman trusted Fang with hers. They'd already saved each other's lives a few times on supply runs.

It helped that Lightning was quiet. Once upon a time, Fang had liked to talk. The Infection had changed that. She was quieter now, more reserved. She could never forget the things she'd seen, and she could see from Lightning's eyes that the same was true for her. There were times when silence was needed, and Lightning was always happy to oblige.

As Fang had settled in, she'd taken a keen interest in Sazh's little projects. Most of these were survival related. He'd put up extra water tanks and fixed as much of the electronics in the buildings as he could. He made sure that everyone knew how all of these things worked, so they could try and repair them if something happened. Lately, however, he'd turned his efforts toward building a better radio. Sazh wanted to know if there was anyone else out there. Fang thought of Nora and Hope. She'd only met them for a night, but she hoped they'd made it through. They had seemed like good people.

Fang also spent her fair share of time helping Serah with her garden. One day, if things stayed like they were, there wouldn't be any more cans of food. Lightning had already started to talk about driving to neighbouring towns to strip them of supplies while they still could. Kept on the island, cool and dry, such supplies could last for much longer. It was dangerous, and Serah and Vanille wanted no part of it, but Fang knew Lightning was right. They couldn't afford to let any supplies slip through their fingers. They needed to gather as much food, ammunition, and fuel as they could. Clothing was also a priority. If they didn't have warmer clothing by next winter, things could get ugly.

Serah's garden was a way of planning for the future. It might not have a lot in it now, but given time, it would be producing fruits and vegetables for all of them. Serah also wanted to raise some livestock, but they hadn't managed to catch any rabbits or chickens yet. That was another reason to check the surrounding towns. Bodhum was a tourist town, but there had been good farmland further inland. They might be able to find livestock there.

Fang grinned. They might even find sheep. Vanille had always wanted one as a pet when they were younger.

To try and lighten the load on their supplies, they'd taken to fishing. They set up lines and nets off the pier, and there were pools on the other side of the island where the fish often gathered. It wasn't always easy, but each catch meant a little more of their supplies could be held back for a rainy day.

That's what they were doing today.

"Catch anything yet?" Fang asked.

She and Lightning were wading in the shallows with makeshift spears while Dajh played on the beach with Bahamut and Chirpy. With both animals around, it would be impossible for any Infected to sneak up on them.

Lightning scowled and pointed to the basket on her back. "Only one."

"Slow poke." Fang chuckled. She'd caught three already. "At this rate, we'll be here all day."

"Worry about yourself." Lightning's spear lanced into the water and came back with a fish. "Besides, you were the one who complained about how hard this was when we started."

"Well, we didn't catch anything the first few times. So, when are we making another supply run?"

"The day after tomorrow. The boat needs some maintenance. We might need to look farther out though. We've already taken almost everything useful from near the pier."

Suddenly the walkie-talkie clipped to Dajh's jacket crackled to life. Lightning had found a few of them amongst the ruins of a Guardian Corps barricade, and she and Sazh had worked hard to repair them. Their range wasn't great and finding rechargeable batteries for them had been nightmarish, but it was worth it. They could communicate properly now even when they couldn't see each other.

Dajh lifted the walkie-talkie to his ear and then relayed everything he had heard. 

"We need to come quick! Daddy says he's got someone else on the radio!"

There was someone else on the radio. Fang and Lightning shared a look. They hurried back and crowded into the room on the top floor of the main research facility where Sazh kept the radio equipment.

"Dajh said you have someone else on the radio." Fang wiped her hands on her shirt. She was nervous for some reason. Had someone worked out a cure for the Infection? "Is that right?"

"It sure is." Sazh spoke into the microphone attached to the radio. "Mind introducing yourself again?"

There were a few moments of static before the reply came.

"Sure. My name is Nora and –"

"Nora?" Fang grabbed the microphone. "Nora, is that you?"

There were several moments of silence and then incredulous laugher. "Fang?"

"I'm impressed you remember me."

"We would have starved if you hadn't left that food." Nora sounded close to tears. "I never even got to say thank you."

"It's all right." Fang smiled even though she knew Nora couldn't see it. "I found my sister, you know." She glanced at Vanille who had just come into the room with Serah and Snow. "She's right here beside me. She's safe."

"That's great."

"Say, Nora, where are you?"

"You won't believe this, but I'm on a yacht with Hope and a few other people. I'd guess we're a few days north of Bodhum."

"Is that so?" Fang looked at the others. Lightning gave her a curt nod. "These people you're with, are they good people?"

"They sure are." Nora recited a few names. Snow perked up at the last one.

"Did you say Lebreau?" Snow asked. "Can you put her on?"

Nora did. It turned out that Snow and Lebreau knew each other pretty well. Or at least, they had before the Infection. Snow hadn't always been a campus security guard. He'd been a bouncer once at a bar run by Lebreau.

"Do you think we should ask them to come?" Fang whispered to Sazh and Lightning as Snow continued to talk with Lebreau.

"I think so." Sazh pursed his lips. "They sound like good people, and Snow can vouch for at least one of them. If things do go bad… we'll do what we have to do. But if they're good, we could sure use the help."

Lightning nodded. "Sazh is right. Ask them."

Fang took the microphone back from Snow. "Nora, I think you guys might want to come to Bodhum."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

I always feel like I should say something deep and meaningful at the end of a story, but I can never find the words. Oh well. I suppose "The End" will simply have to do. It seems odd that everyone actually made it through the story alive given the tone of the story, but then again, quite a lot of things are odd about this story. A lot of things also went very differently from how I'd planned them.

As with the other longer stories that I've finished, I plan to provide extended author's notes in the next chapter to give all of you a sort of 'behind the scenes' glimpse of the chaotic rust bucket that was my mind during the writing of this story. I also thought I'd provide a few "outtakes" as well. What do I mean by "outtakes?" Well, imagine Wasteland as a movie. The outtakes would be the blooper reel. I have a few in my mind already. I had also intended to put up a teaser for my new Pacific Rim themed AU, but rather than leave everyone in suspense, I decided to just go ahead and post it.

So, yeah, extended author's notes will be in the next chapter. To give you some idea of the things I want to talk about, here are some of the things I didn't plan that ended up happening:

Nora lived. In my original plans, Nora was supposed to have died a long, long time ago.

The whole Lightning/Vanille thing. It's hard to say what they are to each other, but I never planned on it. However, when I realised how well it was working, I decided to move 'all in' on it.

Hope should be hanging out with Fang of all people, and Fang should never have met Bahamut. Wow. This didn't even come close to happening.

Finally, my second original short story "The Gunslinger and the Necromancer" is now out on Amazon – you can find a link to it in my profile. It runs to roughly 13,000 words. If you like Westerns with a paranormal twist, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Here's the blurb (you can find a link to a longer preview in my profile):

When the Church needs someone to send the denizens of Hell back to where they belong, they go looking for Lizzy Stanton.

As gunslingers go, Lizzy's right up there with the best of them. No matter what kind of evil she's up against, she knows exactly how to handle things – put a holy bullet right between the eyes. But when she takes a job to go after a necromancer over in Pine Creek, she might just have bitten off more than she can chew.

With zombies, demons, and one tricky necromancer to worry about, Lizzy's going to have to be real quick on the trigger. In the gunfight between good and evil, she's the gunslinger who always delivers.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.

And finally, in case you don't read the extended author's notes, I'd like to thank everyone who followed this story. If you reviewed, messaged me, followed, made this a favourite, or simply read – thank you. This story wouldn't be half of what it is without all of your feedback and support. If I could reach the screen and hug you, I would… or maybe not since even if I could that would just be downright creepy.

Thanks.


	18. Chapter 18

**Extended Author's Notes**

I would like to start by advising everyone that what follows is not another chapter. The previous chapter, Chapter 17, was the final chapter. Instead, I will be providing some detailed author's notes along with some "outtakes." If you want to skip straight to the outtakes that's perfectly fine. I have a tendency to ramble, and you don't have to subject yourself to that. You can find the outtakes further down in the section labelled "Outtakes" in bold (it's about three quarters of the way down).

For everyone who has decided to stay, I'd like to begin by taking about how Wasteland started. This story began its life in the long twilight cast by the final few chapters of Stetsons and fal'Cie. As that story approached its conclusion, it occurred to me that I didn't have another big, multi-chaptered story going. One could argue – quite reasonably, actually – that both Ordinary Heroes and Tell Me A Story are big, multi-chaptered stories. However, neither of them had the sort of continuous and (mostly) coherent storyline that Stetons and fal'Cie had. Rather than another slice-of-life story, I wanted something more structured, something with a plot and purpose. Wasteland turned out to be that something.

After writing a Western, I wanted to try my hand at something different. As much as I love Westerns, my first two major stories were Westerns (Headed West and Stetsons and fal'Cie), and I felt it was time for a change. You can only write so much about gunslingers and hired guns before your thoughts and speech start adopting a distinctly Western twang.

I also wanted to try something with a different tone from Stetsons and fal'Cie. Although it could be quite violent (I don't know how many people died in the last few chapters of the story, but I'd wager it was at least a hundred), Stetsons and fal'Cie was often quite light hearted and humorous. By the end, there was also quite a noticeable amount of romance there as well. For my next story, I wanted something darker, something gritty. Cue the zombies.

Now, zombies are something an interesting cliché. I would guess that there aren't many people who haven't seen zombies in one form or another, whether it is in books, movies, comics, or video games. Zombies are a cliché and that can make them hard to write without seeming like a copycat. At the same time, the fact that everyone understands the rules when it comes to zombies can be very, very useful. I don't have to spend pages and pages explaining everything because everyone already has at least a vague understanding of how zombies work (e.g., they attack the living, aren't particularly intelligent, and need to be shot in the head).

The trick, then, is to harness the power of the zombie cliché (some would call it a trope) without allowing it to rule the story. But how can that be done? My solution was to adhere to most of the traditional zombie conventions while going with a slightly different focus. Rather than focusing on all the blood and gore, the physical aspects of zombie horror, I wanted to focus on the mental side of things.

Imagine, for a moment, what it would be like to be utterly alone in a devastated world. All of your friends and family are dead. Civilisation is in shambles. Everything that you have taken for granted – food, water, electricity, shelter, fuel, clothing – is difficult, if not impossible, to obtain on a regular basis with putting yourself in extreme danger. Imagine also that the only other things in the world exist solely to kill you, to tear the flesh from your bones and eat you alive. Sounds lovely, doesn't it?

Setting aside all of the many, many physical dangers that such a situation would likely impose, consider how it would feel. Think about the toll it would take on your mind. That toll will start off with a bang. The initial shock of seeing the situation unfold, of watching the world tumble down around you, will have you reeling. Then the shock will set in as you realise that, yes, this is real. And, no, there isn't anyone who can help you.

But after that initial shock, there comes the long, horrible grind. If you want to live, you need to keep moving, need to keep foraging, need to keep alert. Every single day, every single moment, you will have to be on the look out for things you can use and for things that might kill you. Your life will be an unrelenting struggle to hide, scavenge, and survive. But it will also be punctuated by bouts of extreme savagery and violence. Every time the Infected find you, you will have to run as fast as you can or fight with every single weapon at your disposal. Not all of them will die easily. You won't always be able to get a clean shot through the head. Sometimes you'll have to do things the hard way, like caving someone's skull in one thumping blow at a time. Lovely.

In the end, even if you survive the physical rigours of the situation, how on earth are you going to survive what it does to your mind? And when your mind goes, how much longer will it be before your body goes too? These are the sorts of things I thought about as I planned Wasteland. You can see them most clearly in Lightning and Vanille's chapters although they're there in the other chapters too.

The trick – if it can be called that – behind Wasteland was simple: focus on the people, not the zombies, and focus on the mental, not the physical. Wasteland was all about taking these characters we have come to know and love and seeing how far I could push them. Some of them managed to hold it together, clinging onto the only thing that still mattered in their life. Others broke or came close to breaking. This isn't to say that some characters are stronger than others (e.g., I wouldn't say that Sazh is a stronger person than Lightning). No, the point, really, is that none of them are strong enough on their own to survive what the world has become. Sazh had Dajh. Serah had Snow. Nora had Hope. Fang found Bahamut. But Lightning and Vanille weren't that lucky, and by the time they'd met, they were already in too many pieces to put back together.

The world that Wasteland is set in is a cruel, unforgiving place. It is a place of shadows and nightmares, and it looms over every one of the characters. None of them are strong enough to face it alone. All they can do is weather the storm as best they can until they can find someone or something to cling onto. Perhaps that is depressing. After all, Final Fantasy XIII is all about fighting destiny and fate – about making the impossible possible. Wasteland, however, doesn't buy into platitudes. The Infected will find you, and the Infection will break you even if it can't turn you into one of the Infected.

Moving on from all of that, I'd like to talk about a few of the things that inspired me. I am a long time zombie fan (and a long time fan of the horror genre, in general). More, perhaps, than any other horror cliché, zombies owe a lot of their success to film. Two films that have always stood out in my mind are Dawn of the Dead and 28 Days Later (I enjoyed both the original and the remake of the former and have done my best to block out my memories of the abysmal sequel to the latter). What sets both of those movies apart, especially 28 Days Later, is how the people are the stars of the film, not the zombies. What drives the movies are the people's struggles to cope with how things have changed, to wrap their mind around a single basic truth: the world as they know it is dead.

In contrast to the aforementioned films, we have media like Resident Evil. I have nothing but good words to say about the Resident Evil games (up to and including Resident Evil 4), but I think it's safe to say that the zombies are the stars of those games. You play because it's thrilling and scary and because you want to find out what fresh new abomination you're going to encounter. That's fine, but this sort of approach makes it almost impossible to grasp the kind of mental disintegration that would occur amongst the survivors of a zombie apocalypse. In video games, there is always the possibility of victory against overwhelming odds. As a result, the gamer can feel scared or thrilled, but they will rarely, if ever, feel hopeless. Watch 28 Days Later. There will be moments when you feel hopeless for the characters, when you feel like they haven't got a chance, but you'll still hope that they all come out of it okay. It is that fragile hope that makes the moments of horror all the more effective, and it was that feeling of hope – fragile and often crushed – that I wanted to pursue. After all, a little bit of hope can make despair far more terrible.

I should also mention The Walking Dead. Ironically, I never got around to watching the show (despite many recommendations to do so) until I was well into this story. Imagine my surprise when seeing the father and son duo! The first series was great. Watching them turn on each other, watching them become more dangerous to themselves than the zombies was incredible. I was less a fan of the subsequent series. In any case, the reason I mention The Walking Dead is because the people are again the stars. Their battles to cling onto what little they still love, their struggles to stay sane and decent in a world gone mad, those are what drive the show. Wasteland has a similar engine under the hood.

What I'd like to show you now is my initial plan for this story. Like so many of my ideas, it begins somewhat hilariously with a single paragraph for direction, and it only mentions one set of characters (I've kept it exactly as I wrote it, so any spelling and grammar mistakes are a result of my frenzied typing at the time):

_Sazh and Dajh are trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic world in which a horrible virus has turned most of the population into zombies. In an attempt to find sanctuary, they flee the ruins of Eden City and head east toward the Bodhum. Their plan is to get to Bodhum, which was once a popular tourist town, and then get a boat there over to one of the islands off the coast. Since the infected can't swim, Sazh thinks it is their best chance. In this universe, it is just him and Dajh in their family – Lahna was infected earlier and Sazh was forced to shoot her, although Dajh doesn't know this. Dajh only knows that the monsters (zombies) got his mother._

As you can see, I didn't start off with much in the way of detail. What I did know, right from the start, was that I wanted Sazh and Dajh to play a major role. They were there in the first chapter, and they continue to play a prominent role throughout the story. What quickly became obvious to me was the fact that this plan wasn't good enough. Sazh and Dajh couldn't carry the story alone (I ran a few scenarios through my head and none of them worked out well). It also wouldn't be much of a story without the rest of our favourites involved. I then threw together another plan, one that worked in more the characters. Note that this plan (which follows in its original form, mistakes and all) and the one posted above were both thrown together before I'd really written much of Wasteland:

_The story starts with them on the road. Running low on supplies, Sazh has them pull up at an abandoned supermarket in a small town they are passing through. The electricity is down, but it's only about noon, so there is some light. He takes Dajh with him and before they enter, he makes Dajh recite the rules:  
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_Always stay close to him_

_Always keep a look out_

_Always keep calm_

_He also has Dajh carry some clips of ammunition and a spare pistol. Sazh himself is using a shotgun and has two pistols with him, along with a knife. They enter the supermarket and Sazh takes a quick look around with Dajh. What they want isn't near the light, so they are forced to use the torches they've brought and investigate._

_They hear some noises, but they are just some feral cats foraging. They see Sazh and vanish. The two get a trolley and Sazh pushes it with one hand as he keeps his shotgun in the other. In the darkness, they have only their torches (electric) to guide them and they get to the food aisles. Sazh stands watch as Dajh quickly starts throwing food into the trolley. They take only the instant food that can be mixed with water and canned food, along with a few unexpired chocolates. They also get water and the like and lots of batteries. Dajh finds a solar powered lamp and they decide to take it and give it a try. They then go over to the gun counter and Sazh breaks into it to replenish his ammunition and pick up a second shotgun, just in case. They also stop to pickup a storybook for Dajh. It's not much, but it's something to ease the horror._

_On their way out, they run into trouble. A zombie attacks them near the checkout, coming in from the staff area, and Sazh is forced to fire. However, that isn't the only zombie, as there is another behind them – Sazh thought it was just a corpse, but he was wrong – and he curses himself for not checking the body better and fires again. The sound of the shots is loud and they quickly hurry out to their vehicle, a four-wheel drive with a roof rack and start loading it up. Sazh has Dajh get the car started as he throws the supplies into the back and then hurries to get into the car. He shoots another two zombies and runs a third over before they make their getaway._

_Later on, they stop at a motel, which turns out to still have running water courtesy of its water tank. They check the place out for trouble and stay the night. Sazh reads Dajh a story and then they turn in. The next morning, Dajh asks if they can stay, but Sazh tells him they can't. Sooner or later, the monsters will come and they need to get to an island. They take a look around and find a diary detailing the fact that it was NORA who ran the motel until things went bad. They holed up, but one day a bus of people pulled in and one of them was infected. Macqui got bitten and Snow had to shoot him. After that they decided to head east for the ocean, as well. Lebreau was the one who wrote the diary entry. They find some blankets, which Dajh takes after asking if they can afford the space (yes, Sazh says, because if you fold a blanket up right it's not too bad, plus he's noticed that Dajh has been shivering, even if Dajh denies it). Sazh adds his own entry to the diary and puts it where someone will be sure to see it and signs his and Dajh's names and then they head off again._

_In this universe, Lightning is a soldier on leave visiting her sister, Serah, in Eden City when everything goes wrong. They end up fleeing east, as well, but their car breaks down and they take shelter in an old police station while Lightning scouts around for another working car that's big enough to fit their supplies and isn't broken. That's when they run into Sazh and Dajh (Sazh was looking for more ammunition and another weapon after he lost one shotgun in a scuffle with zombies. After a bit of a standoff at the start (Sazh understands why Lightning acted so aggressively to protect her sister), the two sister hitch a ride with Sazh and Dajh. They take turns at the wheel and later on they encounter Yaag. Yaag seems friendly, but he tries to steal the car and they are forced to kill him. When Dajh asks if Yaag was a bad man, Sazh says he probably wasn't – the monsters made him that way, they can get you sometimes, even if they don't bite you, and make you a monster just like them. Dajh asks if they'll end up monsters too, but Sazh assures them they won't. During this time, Serah starts looking after Dajh a lot. The next town they get to, Lightning and Sazh go into the shopping centre – they need new clothes and the like – while Serah and Dajh stay outside. Serah can use a gun and Sazh doesn't want to bring Dajh in there, it's too safe and at least this way, if something goes wrong, he knows Dajh can survive with Serah to look after him. During this Sazh confides to Lightning what happened with Lahna. She doesn't blame him – she had to shoot Amodar, who'd been like a second father to her, after she and Serah ran into him at a roadblock with some other soldiers as it was being overrun. He knew what he was going to become and asked her to shoot him. They run into some trouble, but manage to get out okay with supplies. Serah and Dajh don't run into much trouble, although they smoke on the horizon. They tell Lightning and Sazh about it, but they decide not to go look. After all, large sections of Eden City burnt down too and this could be the same._

_They eventually reach Bodhum and the island where there are several holiday homes and they are forced to clear them out. They then start getting settled in, with the boat that got them there being used a lot as they ferry supplies to and from Bodhum and onto the island. They also start planting some crops and getting some water collected and the like. They also find a yacht there and clean it out so they can use it if they run low on fuel._

_Meanwhile, Fang and Vanille are together and eventually run into the remnants of NORA who have opted to go somewhere other than Bodhum, because they think it's too big to be safe. Eventually, they do end up in Bodhum. The smoke that Serah and Dajh saw was this group at a petrol station many miles off. They get attacked by another band of survivors who try to take their supplies and are forced to shoot back. During the battle, the other group is killed and the petrol station explodes, causing the smoke._

_Interleave the chapters so that each chapter handles a different set of characters? Maybe not. Perhaps try dating the chapter and then have sections on each set of characters? Or perhaps, split each chapter across the characters? Maybe do the first idea._

_Eventually they all end up on the island where they set up a radio and begin listening, hoping that they aren't the only ones left alive. The story ends with them doing the best they can and waiting hopefully. Finally, a voice comes over the radio and it is Dajh, the child, who hears it and runs to get the others._

This version of the story does bear some resemblance to Wasteland's final form, but there are also a great many significant differences. The biggest – and most important – difference is how the groups are composed. This version of the story proposes keeping Lightning and Serah together and keeping Fang and Vanille together. This would have had an immense impact on the story because it would have shielded the characters from the worst of the Infection's psychological impact. Lightning wouldn't have teetered on the edge of madness, Vanille wouldn't have become quite unstable, and Fang wouldn't have tromped through a nightmare populated by zombies with nothing more than a wolf and a promise written on a wall for company. As I always do, I tried running a number of different scenarios through my head to see if I liked the way the story would shape up. I didn't, so I decided to try again (as before all spelling and grammar mistakes have been retained, so you can see what the plans really look like):

_Change up a few things_

_Lightning is deployed as part of the military to try and contain the infection. After her unit is destroyed with her as the only survivor (Amodar sacrificed himself so she could live), she decides to try and get to Eden City where Serah was studying at Eden City University, despite the fact that everyone she encounters tellers her that it is suicide._

_She fights her way into Eden City, exhausting herself and becoming almost delirious, especially after an encounter with feral dogs. She gets to the university only to find it a smouldering ruin. She gets to the dormitories where Serah was staying and finds that they have been destroyed too. She breaks down and is attacked by the Infected. She throws herself into the battle, firing until her ammunition is empty before collapsing. The last thing she sees is what looks like Serah, only Serah doesn't have red hair._

_She wakes up to meet Vanille, who has been hiding in the city. She can't fight, so she's had no choice. She looks after Lightning, explaining that she has a sister too, but she doesn't know if she'll ever see her again. Lightning seems almost crazy, claiming that until she sees the body, it isn't true (i.e., Serah isn't dead until she sees her body). Vanille sympathises and as she nurses Lightning back to health, the two grow closer, Lightning seeing a lot of Serah in Vanille._

_Finally, she gets well enough to move and asks Vanille if there's anything she wants. Vanille says that she saw some really great fireworks once, and she'd like to go back to that place, to Bodhum. Lightning, with nothing else to live for, agrees and the two set out. Before they go, they get some spray paint and spray paint their names and their destination all along the outside of the building they were hiding in._

_Meanwhile, Fang , who was working at a nature reserve, hears about the outbreak and tries to find Vanille, as well. Along the way, she runs into Hope and his mother. Not long after they are attacked and Nora, unfortunately, is bitten, they get away, but when they realise Nora is infected they have no choice but to shoot her. Fang offers to do it, and Nora wants her to, but Hope says he should. It's the last thing he can do for her, and he couldn't bear for someone else to do it._

_With no destination in mind, they head for Eden City. Hope understands that Fang has to try, just like he and his mother tried. Like Lightning, Fang needs to check on Vanille. They find the burnt out ruins, but to their amazement, they find the message that Lightning and Vanille left, as well, and decided to set out after them._

_Meanwhile, Serah and Snow are also headed toward Bodhum. They managed to escape the university, but are now on their own. Serah can't think of anywhere else to go, and it should be safer than the cities. There also islands off the coast that they might be able to use. Later, after their car breaks down, and they are about to be overrun, that's when they run into Sazh and Dajh. Serah and Snow know each other because Snow has been working as a handyman around the university to help make more money to expand the motel that NORA owns._

_As for the rest of NORA, they abandoned their motel, like described in the other continuity and end up in a settlement run by Jihl and Yaag. When everything there goes horribly wrong, they flee, and run into Lightning and Vanille who are headed for Bodhum. They realise that if they're going to die, well, there are worse ways to go than in a place like Bodhum._

_Sazh, Dajh, Serah, and Snow get to Bodhum first, and manage to fight their way onto a yacht called the Barthandelus that was once owned by a wealthy man named Galenth Dylsley, and then head to one of the islands. They are forced to retreat after it turns out to be heavily infested. There just aren't enough of them to clear it out. They return to Bodhum and hole up there, unsure of what to do, or if they should try another island. That's when Lightning and Vanille arrive and with them the other members of NORA. They decided to try and retake the island and after a fair bit of fighting they manage to do so, finding it reasonably well supplied._

_After a while, Fang and Hope arrive and find the remains of the building where the others were staying. They head down to the supermarket to raid it and then run into the others. After everyone is reunited, they begin making radio contact with other groups of survivors. One of the groups is led by Cloud, another by Yuna._

Ah ha! Now, we're starting to get something that actually resembles the final story. Many of the final elements are there: Lightning and Vanille meeting up and travelling together, Serah and Snow meeting Sazh and Dajh. However, there are still substantial differences. In particular, Fang and NORA play very different roles in this version of the story. I had originally planned to kill Nora off – this version shows how I was going to do that.

So why didn't I kill Nora? Part of it was sentimentality. After writing the first chapter with Nora, I realised that she wasn't a character that normally got a lot of screen time, so there was a lot of potential there for her to grow. The other reason was that I didn't think the Fang and Hope group would work out well. If Fang kills Nora, I can't imagine Hope getting on with her very well even if it was necessary. Hope would never have been able to get over his mother's death at Fang's hands and that would have made their scenes together extremely one-dimensional and awkward.

The idea of NORA running into a camp run by Jihl and Yaag wasn't scrapped for entirely thematic reasons. Rather, I scrapped it because I thought it would end up taking far too much of the story (it could very easily have been a story in its own right). That left me with a few loose ends that needed tidying up: Nora, Hope, Fang, and NORA.

So, at last, we come to the third version of the story plan, one that was written after I'd already gotten a few chapters into Wasteland (it picks up in Chapter 9 since I'm mostly happy with the second version of the story plan up until that point):

_Sazh meets Serah and Snow when he and Dajh are trying to resupply at a department store. They run into Serah who has torn clothes and bruises. A minute later, a group of five men appear and demand that Sazh hand Serah over to them. They even offer to share her. Barring that, they tell Sazh to walk away as it's none of his business. He looks at his son and at Serah and declares that it is his business. There is a standoff as he has a shotgun levelled on the leader._

_However, the standoff is broken when gunfire takes out one of the men. Sazh shoves Serah and Dajh behind some cover along with Chirpy. He hurriedly asks Serah what has happened and she explains that the men attacked her and Snow after running into them. They got separated and one of them tried to himself on her, but she fought him and another man off, killing one. However, when more came, she was forced to run and that's when she met them. She begs Sazh to help Snow and after some consideration, he agrees._

_He helps Snow and they are forced to kill all but one of the men. They question him, asking him why he was doing what he was doing and if there are more of them. There aren't more of them, they've been on the move too, and as for why, they haven't seen a woman since the Infected started, and who cares about the law anymore? He goes for a knife and Sazh is forced to shoot him._

_Resupplying, Sazh talks to Serah and Snow. He tells them he doesn't trust them. Snow says he understand, but he trusts Sazh since he helped them when he didn't have to. Eventually, they settle in for the night and Serah explains what they're doing. They are heading for Bodhum. There is an island off the coast of Bodhum in the middle of Bodhum Harbour. It has the lighthouse on it along with an oceanographic research institute and a meteorological research centre. Serah thinks that if they can get there, they might be safe._

_Sazh points out that there are going to be Infected there, but Serah counters that the Infected can't sail and don't seem to be able to swim. There might be Infected there, but if they can just clear them out they will be safe. Sazh thinks about that. He and Dajh have been wandering for a long time, but as crazy as it sounds, this is a glimmer of hope. He decides to go with them_

_Eventually, they get to the island. They get to the oceanographic institute and find that some have been killed, others have committed suicide. Everyone is dead. Infected come and attack them in hordes and they are forced to hole up and fight for their lives. This goes on for more than a day as they are forced back and back and cut off from their boat. Fires are lit and in Bodhum, Vanille and Lightning, who have just arrived, see it and set out for the island. They arrive and seeing the Infected attacking people and Sazh fighting them off, they charge in and help, driving the Infected back. That's when the people helping Sazh appear – Snow and Serah. _

_Serah and Lightning are reunited much to their joy. Vanille is saddened because she has come to love Lightning like a sister, but Serah asks Lightning to introduce Vanille, Vanille is overjoyed when Lightning introduces her as 'a dear friend, someone she cares for like a sister' and Lightning says she is happy her two sisters get to meet._

_A few weeks pass and on one supply run, Lightning and Vanille run into Fang. Rather, Lightning runs into Fang and the two end up fighting as Fang, driven to despair by arriving to find no sign of Vanille turns on her surroundings. That's when Vanille appears, begging for them to stop. Fang thinks she is dreaming and when she realises she isn't, she is overjoyed. She thanks Lightning for looking after Vanille and goes with them. _

_Elsewhere Nora and Hope meet the remnants of NORA, and eventually they set up shop at a remote resort hotel along the coast. After being attacked, they try sending out a radio distress call and those on the island hear it. They sail out and retrieve them, getting back to the island where Snow is reunited with them and Fang is glad to see that Nora and Hope are still around._

_The island has generators, water, and solar power, and some room to plant crops and the like._

Here, the story approaches something very close to its final form. The ending is also fairly similar to the one I ended up using except rather than being rescued, NORA comes to the island.

As you can see, a lot of things didn't go the way I originally planned them. One of the things I really came to appreciate with Wasteland was the value of letting a story grow organically. I usually do let stories grow organically (i.e., deviate from plan when necessary), but Wasteland was especially demanding in this respect. You'll notice, for example, that I didn't plan for Fang finding Bahamut, just like I didn't plan for a lot of things. But if I didn't plan them, where did they come from?

Whenever I draft a chapter, I leave little notes at the end about the things that should be fixed, removed, or added to. Many of my best ideas – and the things that readers liked most – came from reading chapters and realising they needed a little bit extra. One of the dangers of planning is that you become so invested in the plan that you don't notice when something better comes along. Those notes at the end are reminders of what the plan is doing right and what it is doing wrong.

It was these notes at the end – along with reader feedback – that led to one of the largest shifts in the story. Originally, this was going to be a story focused on Sazh and Dajh. To an extent that is still true. They do play a very important part in the story. But it soon became clear to me that perhaps the strongest part of the story – and the part that resonated most powerfully with readers – was the dynamic between Lightning and Vanille. This wasn't something I'd planned on, but only an idiot would have overlooked a gift like that falling into their lap.

As a result, I made a conscious decision to try and flesh out more of the Lightning and Vanille dynamic. That decision was probably one of the best I ever made. The increasingly fraught nature of Lightning and Vanille's relationship (to say nothing of their rapidly degrading mental stability) made for a marvellous contrast between their chapters and the chapters devoted to the other characters. I might have started with one idea, but I'm not so proud that I will ignore a better one when it comes along.

A point that I've already made, but which I want to make again, is that Wasteland is a story about people. Yes, there are zombies in it, and they are horrible, but ultimately, Wasteland is about the people. So I'd like to take a moment to talk about those people and the way they fit together.

I'll start off with Sazh and Dajh since they are, in many ways, the easiest people to understand. Sazh is a man who has lost everything else in his life except Dajh. As such, he fights mostly to keep his son alive. Everything he does is motivated by the simple need to keep himself – and by extension Dajh because Dajh cannot survive without him – alive. It's the reason he is able to shoot the Infected without regret or hesitation. Balanced against his son's life, the Infected don't matter to him at all.

At the same time, Sazh's purpose is what grounds him and keeps him sane. Dajh may not be able to help him physically, but having his son around provides him with a precious ocean of normality in a sea of chaos. Dajh is the guiding light in Sazh's life. Sazh has to stay sane for his son, and he goes out of his way to provide what small comforts he can: a piece of chocolate, some time on a swing, a chocobo for a pet. By focusing on Dajh, Sazh has narrowed the entire world down to a single, manageable objective: keep his son alive. Instead of dwelling on the horrifying enormity of the situation, Sazh has chosen to narrow his focus down to one thing and that has kept him sane.

Snow and Serah are likewise in the fortunate position of having someone else. They aren't as close as Sazh and Dajh are, but adversity has a way of making swift friends out of people, and there was an attraction there to begin with. The fact that Snow never used the deteriorating social situation to take advantage of Serah is one of the reasons she trust him so much. Snow is big guy and tough too. If he'd wanted to do something, Serah probably couldn't stop him. But instead, he's been nothing but a gentleman. As I mentioned in the last chapter, it's Serah who pushes the physical boundaries of their relationship. In a dire situation like the Infection, it's difficulty to overstate how much that civil behaviour mattered.

One question that I'm sure some of you have is why wasn't Serah as badly damaged as Lightning by their separation. It isn't that Serah doesn't care. She does, very much so. But they are in two different positions. Lightning has lived her whole life for Serah, doing whatever she can to make ends meet. Serah is the reason Lightning is in the Guardian Corps, the reason she put herself through hell. Serah, however, has the opposite problem. She has seen the sacrifices her sister has made and the only thing she can do to honour them is live as best she can, live so that Lightning's sacrifices weren't in vain. If Lightning is dead, Serah's only way of honouring her is to live for as long as she can as well as she can. But to Lightning, if Serah is dead, then she has failed. Everything in her life has been for nothing. It's a cruel, cruel asymmetry, but it is there all the same.

The dynamic between Sazh, Dajh, Serah, and Snow is a pleasant one. Sazh's decision to help Serah, he could easily have given her to the men who'd kidnapped her, was decisive in earning her trust. He chose to do the right thing even though it could have cost him everything. Likewise, watching Sazh treat Dajh so nicely is reassuring for both Serah and Snow. Dajh is useless (i.e., he doesn't add in an obvious way to Sazh's chances of survival, at least as perceived by others), but Sazh hasn't abandoned him.

The Nora and Hope group provided an interesting contrast to Sazh and Dajh. Again, it's a case of parent and child. What makes the situation so different is that Hope is old enough to fully grasp the horror of the Infection. When Sazh tells Dajh that everything will be fine if he follows the rules, Dajh believes him. Dajb is a little boy, and he still believes his father can do anything. But Hope knows, he knows, that the world has gone to pieces, and he knows that he and his mother are far from safe. But at the same time, he is still a boy, not quite a man. He wants to help his mother, but he doesn't know how. He wants to protect his mother, but he isn't strong enough. And both of them have to deal with the loss of his father.

If I had to, I would say that there are three pivotal moments in the Nora and Hope storyline (apart from the initial outbreak of the Infection, of course). The first comes when they meet Fang. Fang was a ray of hope to them, proof that there were still decent people around. Fang didn't have much, but she shared part of it with them when she didn't have to. The second moment comes when they meet Yaag and Jihl. Hope learns the hard way about what people are capable of under pressure, and he also learns how much he relies on his mother. The thought of going on without her – of watching her die – all but breaks him. And then NORA came. What faith he'd lost in people when he ran into Yaag and Jihl, he got back in spades when NORA choose to help him and his mother.

NORA was also important to Nora. After having to shoulder the burden alone for so long (she was afraid of burdening Hope), she was able to share her load with others. This saved her as much as their stitching her wounds up did. That's why Nora and Hope stay with NORA. It's why they become something close to a family.

Fang was an interesting character to write. Out of all the characters, I felt I had the least certainty in terms of what I wanted her to go through. Like Lightning, she is looking for her sister. And in some ways, she's even more deluded than Lightning since she doesn't give up even when there's an absolute pile (an entire ruined city's worth) of evidence suggesting that Vanille is dead. That graffiti on the wall saved her from herself because she could easily have succumbed to her despair like Lightning did – and Vanille wouldn't have been around to save her.

Bahamut was another timely addition for Fang. He wasn't really in my plans, but I felt that Fang needed someone or something to balance her later chapters out. How else would she keep from going insane? I've always imagined Fang being very good with animals, so I thought it would be nice to give her one. A wolf was suitably impressive, and a wolf was also the kind of animal that would actually prove useful during something like the Infection.

And now we get to Lightning and Vanille. I'll discuss them together since by the end of the story, they're pretty much a package deal.

Lightning's portrayal in Wasteland is a logical extension of her behaviour in the game. In the game, she fixates on the idea of saving Serah. Almost everything about her, from her regrets to her hopes, is centred on the other woman. So what happens when you take Serah away? Wasteland attempts to answer that question. Lightning is devastated. She simply cannot conceive of a world without Serah because if she is alive and Serah is not, then she has failed. It would have been better, in Lightning's eyes, to have died with Serah or died defending her.

Vanille is different. She cling tenaciously to whatever life she can lead, no matter how horrible it is. She doesn't want to die even though everyone else she knows is already dead. But by the time Lightning arrives, that resolve is wearing thing. That's why, when she meets Lightning, she goes well out of her way to save her. Then, when they're travelling together, she attaches herself to the other woman. What Vanille fears isn't death. It's loneliness. She fears loneliness and dying alone so much that she talks to a video camera and carries around wallets because they're all she has left of her friends. It's why she fights so hard for Lightning's acceptance. She can't – won't – go back to being on her own. Even if it means throwing herself at Lightning's feet, she is going to make sure the other woman doesn't leave her. It's a fortunate thing too since looking after Vanille becomes Lightning's new purpose, the only thing keeping her going crazy. It's a way to atone for her failure. She'll protect Vanille the way she never protected Serah.

The last thing I want to talk about is the ending. The ending was… interesting. Some stories, like Headed West, I could only ever imagine ending one way. This story could have ended on an altogether more tragic note (e.g., Lightning killing Vanille and then committing suicide before they see the smoke coming from the island). However, I decided to go with a more open-ended finale. This was for a number of reasons. The island, and their all meeting there, is a nod at Dawn of the Dead. The ending is also a way of bringing together all of the characters. They were all separated to begin with, and I wanted to bring them all together at least once.

The main reason I chose the ending that I did was because it left things open. Now that everyone is on the island they have a fighting chance, but whether they win is left up to the reader. Do their plans work out? Do the Infected sneak on? Do they turn on each other? There are some things that are best left to the imagination.

The ending of Wasteland is a moment of peace and silence, a lull in the storm. It is a brief moment of calm and quiet, of hope and joy. Does it last? Maybe. Maybe not. But I wanted the ending to offer that brief respite. I had considered writing a chapter for each of the groups meeting, but I felt it would have dragged on too long. Ultimately, the ending is what it is.

So yeah, it's been a fun ride, and I'm glad you were all there to share it with me.

Now, it's time for the outtakes. Please don't take these seriously. Think of them as parts of a blooper reel. To make things easier, I've given them names and indicated what chapter they are based on.

X X X

**Outtakes**

X X X

**Chapter Six – Lightning never did have a good sense of direction**

Lightning stared in absolute, utter desolation at the ruined remains of the dormitories. The dormitories were gone. Serah was gone. Everything had burnt to the ground just like the rest of the university.

A sob welled up from deep inside her. Serah was dead. The only thing that mattered was gone. She'd failed. Not caring that the Infected might hear, Lightning dropped to her knees and wailed. Rocking back and forth, she sobbed until she felt like she was crying a river.

"Uh, Serah, do you know her?" Vanille peeked around the corner at the pink haired woman bawling her eyes out in front of the ruins of the maintenance building. "Because she looks an awful lot like you."

Serah winced. "She's my sister. But why is she crying there?" She slapped her forehead. "Of course, she must think those are the dormitories."

Vanille pointed at the dormitories, which were right behind them and still very much intact. "The dormitories are over there. They're perfectly fine. We've been barricaded in them for weeks."

"I know." Serah sighed and headed off to comfort her sister. "But Lightning never did have a good sense of direction. She must think I'm dead or something."

X X X

**Chapter One – Dajh always did like video games**

Sazh's eyes widened as Dajh twirled the pistol around one finger. A half dozen dead Infected dropped to the ground, a hole in every single forehead. Dajh reached for the chocolate bar on the shelf.

"I wanted some candy, daddy, and they weren't going to let me get it."

"Uh…"

"I played lots of video games." Dajh smiled sunnily and tugged open his jacket. "See my shirt? It's my favourite Resident Evil shirt."

"Right…" Sazh made a mental note: get the boy a gun of his own.

X X X

**Chapter Eleven – Who said anything about a wolf/Lady Luck**

Fang had expected a lot of things to barge into the room looking for a slice of the deer she'd killed. Her money was on a dog or a wolf. What she got was a dragon.

"RARGH!" The purple and black dragon bellowed as it smashed right through the front of the building and eyed the deer hungrily.

Fang did the smart thing. "Uh, sure, I guess you can have some." She cut off a piece of the deer before thinking better of it and handing the whole thing over. "Say, I don't suppose you'd mind hanging out with me for a while, would you?"

The dragon gobbled up the deer and then shrugged before settling down next to the fire.

"I'll take that as a yes."

The next day, Fang had a wonderful time roasting hordes of Infected atop her new best friend before finding some graffiti telling her where to meet Vanille. She made it to Bodhum in record time, stopping just long enough to pick up Vanille and a slightly crazy (but totally hot) pink haired woman along the way.

She might also have made another trip to pick up the pink haired woman's sister and a few other stragglers. She did it purely out of the goodness of her own heart. It had nothing to do with the fact that pink haired woman – Lightning – was probably the hottest person on the planet (and that statement probably would have been true even before the Infection).

Maybe it was all a big coincidence, or maybe it was luck. Fang always had been lucky.

X X X

**Chapter Seventeen – So… does anyone know how to drive a yacht?**

Nora looked at the others. They looked back at her. They all looked at the yacht's controls.

"So, does anyone know how to drive a yacht?" Lebreau asked.

Silence.

Finally, Hope put up his hand. "I might have seen someone do it in a movie once."

Everyone looked at each other again. Hope scratched the back of his head.

Lebreau grinned. "Well, that's more than I can say." She tossed Hope the keys. "Good luck, kid."

X X X

**Chapter Sixteen – Now is not the time…**

Serah and Snow stared deep into each other's eyes. Serah licked her lips. Snow swallowed thickly. Cheeks flushed, they reached for one another.

"Do you mind?" Sazh glanced over the edge of the roof. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there is a horde of Infected down there trying to kill us."

Serah sighed. "I know, but it's been so long since we've… you know."

Sazh stared. "Are you serious?"

Snow grinned. "Well, we've been travelling with you and Dajh for a while now, and we never seem to find a spare room that we can use… so yeah. It's been a while since we've done it."

"What are they talking about, daddy?" Dajh tilted his head to one side and smiled cutely. "What haven't they done in a while?"

Sazh grabbed Serah and Snow. "You'd think you were a pair of horny teenagers. Now, get it together, or so help me, I'm throwing you off the roof."

X X X

**Chapter Twelve – Deadly animals**

Vanille threw the door open and froze. There was a hamster sitting on the front porch. Actually, there were several dozen hamsters waiting on the front porch. They must have been waiting for her to come outside.

"Aw, aren't you guys cute?" Vanille leaned forward to pat one of the cuddly, little hamsters on the head.

"RARGH!" The hamster reared up on its hind legs and bared teeth that were far, far longer than they should be.

As the killer hamsters swarmed over her, Vanille could only think about how idiotic the whole thing was. She'd managed to survive the Infected, and now a bunch of evil hamsters were going to kill her.

And then Lightning was there. Snarling, the pink haired woman grabbed one hamster by the scruff of its neck and then punted it off into the distance. A second tried to go for her throat, but Lightning knocked it aside with a sharp left hook. The hamster bounced off a nearby tree, and the others scattered, fleeing back into the woods.

Lightning watched them go and then pulled Vanille up onto her feet.

"Hamsters? You were going to get eaten by hamsters?" Lightning sighed and wrapped her arms around Vanille. "You are so lucky you bumped into me."

Vanille smiled and leaned into Lightning's embrace. Then she copped a feel.

X X X

**Chapter Seventeen – Some people get all the girls**

Snow sighed and looked into the bedroom. He didn't mind Serah occasionally sneaking off into Lightning's bed. They'd lost each other once, and he knew they couldn't bear to lose each other again. If snuggling up to Lightning once a week was something Serah needed to do to stay sane that was fine with him.

But this was too much.

Not only was Serah curled up against Lightning, but Fang and Vanille were in the bed as well. The pair had both fallen asleep with a firm hold on the older Farron: Vanille had her arms wrapped around Lightning's middle while Fang had one hand on Lightning's chest.

"It's not fair."

Sazh grinned and patted Snow on the shoulder before pulling him away. If Lightning woke up to find him looking into the bedroom, she'd kill him, which would be a real shame since Dajh had grown quite attached to him.

"It's all right, kid. Some people just get all the girls."

X X X

**Final Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

So there you have it. Thank you for following this story, and I hope to see you again some time. If you made it through all of my author's notes (including this chapter), then thank you some more since I do have a tendency to ramble. I think these extended author's notes set a new record for me. I can only imagine what the extended author's notes will be like for Whispers of the Gods – shudder – I'll have a lot to say about that story when the time finally comes.

Also, my second original short story "The Gunslinger and the Necromancer" is now out on Amazon – you can find a link to it in my profile. It runs to roughly 13,000 words. If you like Westerns with a paranormal twist, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Here's the blurb (you can find a link to a longer preview in my profile):

When the Church needs someone to send the denizens of Hell back to where they belong, they go looking for Lizzy Stanton.

As gunslingers go, Lizzy's right up there with the best of them. No matter what kind of evil she's up against, she knows exactly how to handle things – put a holy bullet right between the eyes. But when she takes a job to go after a necromancer over in Pine Creek, she might just have bitten off more than she can chew.

With zombies, demons, and one tricky necromancer to worry about, Lizzy's going to have to be real quick on the trigger. In the gunfight between good and evil, she's the gunslinger who always delivers.

Alternatively, you can check out my other short story, "The Last Huntress," if you like fantasy. There's a link to it in my profile.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


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Final Fantasy XIII