Blaze was becoming a husk, dried out by years of worry over her brother. Some days I saw a shadow of what she used to be.

At first I thought she could move on. I told myself it was a matter of time before she gave up on him. I'd moved on after Pickle and Frank, though their memory still stung. But it was different not knowing. If I'd come close to finding them, then they slipped away, I wasn't sure I'd give up either.

My understanding of her misery came too late. It was only recently her sorrow truly pained me, long after we had any shot of finding Beau.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can go to Arbuckle right now and tell him we're leaving. We can pick up the search as soon as you want."

With our moment over, she broke free and stood tall. "No, that's irrational." She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her wild black hair. "If we don't find him this time, after we've done everything we can, I'll let it go. We'll tell Arbuckle we're taking a break. Need a week or so free. You said Kevin would never kill him, and if Kevin is still leading the Brotherhood, then we have a chance."

The candy tasted slimy and bitter in my mouth, just like the lie she recited back to me. I swallowed away the lump in my throat and managed a weak smile. "It's a plan."

Chapter 6.

4 years earlier We were impressed at the wall he'd built around the storage unit facility as they drove us through the gates. Another team distracted stray Zs to give us time to slip in. The walk through metal and concrete halls was cramped. Hundreds of unsorted boxes from the units lined the walls. They put us in a spare room with a bed neatly made on the floor, a table and chair, and enough clean water to feel lucky.

"You can leave anytime," Arbuckle told us, as he handed us a bag of rations. "What I'm building, it has nothing to do with force or violence. We'll help you regain your strength, but once you do its either help out or get out."

His words were firm, his attitude fiercely resolute. They let us keep what weapons we had, as long as we never had them out unless they needed to be. The atmosphere was forced. Everyone had a smile on their face, but behind it was tension. When would it all come to a bloody, ruined end?

A pillar of light cut through the dark room where they'd opened a hole in the metal roof and placed a piece of plastic over to stop the rain from getting in. Blaze and I sat on the bed, watching dust particles float around before inhaling the food.

Cans of chili. A couple fresh carrots. There were even two sets of metal plates and utensils. Between that and the 50 gallon drum of water in the corner, it was fucking paradise.

The first few nights were hard. Neither of us slept for fear of getting killed by the group of people running the facility. Anyone could look normal if they needed to, until they got what they wanted. We stayed in the room, leaving it only to relieve ourselves or to get fresh air. When we did try sleeping, it was in shifts.

Then our bodies released, like they knew we were safe. Muscles, knotted and woody from being tense for so long, finally relaxed. I took deeper breaths and, though I couldn't be positive, felt like my blood pressure dropped. We slept like the truly dead, lulled into comfort by the food and people being so kind to us. We recuperated from a year of exhaustion. Next to her, in the little concrete room, laying side by side in our tiny bed, I wanted to think the past was behind us.

I thought that way for a blissful two weeks. Getting fed by Arbuckle's people, receiving tours of the facility and friendly glances from the townsfolk. They had a winter garden that produced small amounts of fresh vegetables. The planter boxes were built from wood and raised two feet off the ground. Two storage units were full of preserved food, carefully organized and rationed exactly for the amount of people in the town. One room was devoted to an in-the-works ammunition refilling operation. It was a highly functional colony with big aspirations. Perhaps even more than the one in Sultan so many years ago.

But as we bulked up we sobered up. The freeloading had to come to an end. Arbuckle made that clear during tours, when he'd casually question what we could contribute.

"Are you a green thumb, Cyrus?"

"Do you have any nanny experience, Blaze?"

At that one, I choked back a laugh. Blaze? Nanny? Right. Arbuckle frowned, pausing in front of the water collection area.

"What did you do Before?"

Before. Anything and everything before the day the dead rose was Before. It was catchy, and I found myself using it after hearing it only a few times.

"I didn't garden. That's for fucking sure," I said, feeling some of my pep spark up.

"I can tell you two...I can tell you're hardened."

Blaze's smirk made her scar crinkle. "Hardened makes it sound heroic."

He shook his head. "You don't have to be that way. We're not playing who's the bigger man here. The fact is, you're both at a point where you decide if you're with us or not."

"What if we're not?" I asked. "Will you really let us leave, after all the food and shelter you've given us without a second thought?"

"No such thing as a free lunch," Blaze said.

Arbuckle stroked his beard. His perpetually watery eyes searched mine. "Yes. Yes, I will. Like I told you, we're good people. But why would you want to go? We have food, sustainable water, and shelter. I have plans to expand this place. In a few years, this could feel like normal again. Like Before."

"Nothing is going to be normal again," Blaze said, her voice low. "And that's why we want to go. The world Before-the normal world-wasn't good to us." She looked at me and added, "Either of us. Why would we support you in trying to recreate that?"

But credit was due. While Blaze would lash out at anything, I knew when to play into someone. "Arbuckle, we're extremely grateful for what you've done for us. But, trust me, we wouldn't fit in here. No matter how long we're here, or how much you do for us, we're in it for ourselves. The second a zombie gets through, or the second things get rough, we're gone and we won't look back."

A group of people walked by. They smiled at Arbuckle, who patted some on the shoulder and greeted them warmly as they passed. Picture perfect. He could be a sculpture in the middle of a fountain someday. He motioned for us to follow him, and he lead us behind the water collection tubs and tarps.

"I want these people to feel safe," he said, when we settled far away from any other colonists. "The children, they're already acting so callous and indifferent to all the death and struggle around them. I don't want them growing up having to kill their parents and friends when they turn."

"Until whatever is causing the dead to come back stops, they don't have a choice," Blaze said flatly.

Arbuckle continued, choosing not to acknowledge Blaze's statement. He had a spiel and he wanted us to hear every word. "So far the settlement has been great. People work together; we all have a unified goal of surviving. But as things get better, people start wanting..." He paused, hesitant to utter the next words. "Preferential treatment. That's the best way I can put it. Some of them think they deserve more than others because they dispose of the turned. Or because they put more time in the garden, or go on more runs. Then they treat their friends better, giving them more supplies than they should, forming alliances and whatnot. It isn't bad now, but it's going to be later. I know it."

I stared at the drips of water gathering on the blue tarp beside us, forming a little stream that fed into a bucket. My thoughts wandered. I knew where Arbuckle was headed with this from the moment he started the conversation.

"Cut to the chase," Blaze said, adding a gruff, "Please."

"I need a third party who will enforce rules."

"Why can't you do it?" I asked. "You're the leader. That's your job."

He stared outward at the little town of storage units and exhaled slowly. "I don't want them to hate me. While there are few of us, we'll all decide on a set of rules. It won't seem like my idea alone. Then you two would enforce them-"

"You want us to be the bad guys."

Arbuckle didn't miss a beat. "Yes. Perhaps that isn't the best way to put it. I want you to be enforcers. Police."

"No," Blaze and I said in unison.

Now he was exasperated. He took a step closer to us, raising his hand as though to touch my shoulder, but dropped it once he thought better. "There must be something you want in return for your services. What will you do out there that you can't do in here?"

I looked at Blaze. Her face had softened. She wore the same expression she always did when she looked at the picture of herself that I'd stolen from Beau. The tiniest edge of Beau's face remained in frame from where I'd ripped it.

"We'll talk about it in private," I told Arbuckle. "We'll let you know tomorrow."

Besides the ho-hum decisions we made-should we raid this house? Is it too dangerous to leave?-the decision to stay with Arbuckle was the most mutual, honest one.

Back in our unit, Blaze leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. After sparking a brief connection with our neighbor, who served as a cook in the marines for some years, he gave her one from his last pack. She told me in passing afterwards that Tim was planning on setting up his own indoor tobacco garden eventually. Though she tried to hide it, she couldn't mask the interest.

I sat on the bed, stretching my legs out. The scar from a bullet wound in my leg still ached when it rained, and being that we were in Washington it ached a whole fucking lot. As she exhaled smoke towards me, I cast an obligatory glare at her.

I took the lead. "Not surprising he wants someone to do his dirty work for him. If you ask me, it's kind of arrogant. What makes him think he'll survive long enough to need rules and enforcers?"

She shrugged.

I guess she wasn't interested in making it easy, even though she was the one who hesitated outside.

"Blaze, do you want to stay here?"

She came and sat next to me, tapping ash into an empty water cup beside the bed. "I think he'll give us anything we want. If we stay here, dick around and play Tweedledee and Tweedledum for him, we could learn a few things about growing food."

"Make him give us a cut of all the supplies he finds, especially ammo. We make a nest egg for ourselves."

She chuckled. "Yeah. We can still search for Beau while we're doing this. I doubt Arbuckle will really have that many tasks for us."

Why can't she just forget about him? There's no way he is still alive. It's us now. Just us.

The thought was bitter and selfish, but I didn't care. I agreed that staying with Arbuckle could have advantages. Leeching supplies from him until we could branch out on our own made perfect sense. And while I agreed about Beau, I hoped the new task of duping Arbuckle would help her see things differently.

"Forgive them, for they know not what they do," I said. "Take advantage of them instead."

Chapter 7.

Arbuckle converted the town hall into his own personal mansion that housed his children, wife, and a few people who he considered invaluable. The first story served as an office and medical facility. Walking into it was like walking into the world Before; everything was spotless, everyone clean and well dressed. There were no indications that we were almost a decade past the end of the world.

Blaze and I, still grimy and sweaty from our trip to Dynan's settlement and the house, were out of place. While I liked to be orderly and clean, there was something satisfying about being a sore thumb in the otherwise pristine setup. You don't get to play house while other people are doing your dirty work without a little suffering.

"What took you?" Arbuckle's wife Valerie, second in command and certified nurse, waited for us in the main entry. She sighed. "Forget it. Follow me."

Neither of us liked Valerie. She was a nice person, sure, but so full of herself she actually looked down her nose at you when she spoke.

Instead of taking us upstairs to Arbuckle's office, she led us through the building to the medical facility. It was really no more than a big room with some exam tables. Sheets created private spaces, and cases of medical supplies were always diminishing. It was usually teeming with activity, since people from all settlements came there to see the three resident doctors. Both Brickston and Surville had doctors, but only one each and they weren't that great.

Today it was empty. In the back right, one curtain was closed. Arbuckle stood outside of it.

When he saw us, he came over with a worried look on his face. He wrung his hands. "Did you handle Dynan's problem?"

"I killed the girl," I said flatly.

"And the rumors of a supply hoarder?"

"No supplies," I said. But it was obvious the questions and answers weren't important to him. "What are we doing here?"

"I think it would be best if I just showed you first," he said, leading us to the curtained area. He pulled back the sheets.

The girl was pregnant. Her hands rested on top of her bulging stomach. Gaze downcast, she avoided direct eye contact with any of us. Grime coated her face and greasy clumps of hair clung to her scalp. The loose top and skirt she wore were covered in so much mud and dirt, I wouldn't be surprised if they were made of it. She swayed slightly as she stared at the floor, completely in her own world. A few fresh scratches covered her arms and legs.

"Two of my guys found her on the side of the road during a patrol to Brickston two days ago. Didn't think anything of it, but since she was so pregnant they came back here to drop her off. Brought her in and took her to the infirmary where the docs started taking care of her." Arbuckle paused. "She wouldn't say a word. Then they saw a mark on her back. Hadn't seen anything like it before."

Valerie stepped in when she caught me fixating on the scratches on her body. "We tried cleaning her up, but she fights us. Won't do anything but sit here. Won't even eat. I think she's in shock or traumatized."

"What is it?" I asked Arbuckle. "What's the mark?"

Arbuckle nodded to the woman who brought her in. She led us behind the girl and pulled up her shirt. She flinched, but didn't resist. On her left side was a scabbed over wound. It was hard to make out, but since I'd seen it more times than I'd like to admit, I recognized it right away. A sword with flames around it.

My pulse sped up and my breath caught in my throat. The very same emblem scarred my chest. I hadn't seen it on anyone but myself in years, until the guys in the basement today and the board in the house. Now this? All at once? This was no coincidence.

Blaze stared hard at the symbol, her face carefully neutral.

The girl's brand was fresh. Someone had done it recently, and it couldn't have been Kevin. I shoved that branding rod through his throat and out the back of his skull. While I could've come up with justifications for the men in the basement having the brand, the pregnant girl provided irrefutable evidence the Brotherhood was somehow active. Or, at the very least, someone kept the brand and was still using it.

"Have you seen this before?"

Blaze spoke first. "It looks familiar, but I can't place it. Cyrus?"

She was smart. Revealing too much to Arbuckle was risky. If he suspected crazies were organizing en masse, he might overreact and jeopardize our own search for them. While they were strong, no doubt about it, Arbuckle could scare them away or make them more aware of us hunting them. Bottom line-we didn't need his flunkies trying to find the Brotherhood before we did.

"I'm not sure, either. We've taken out a lot of crazies before."

"She's got another branding on her front. It's an X on her stomach." Valerie was more fixated on the girl than the bigger picture. "It must've been done before she got pregnant. It's scarred and stretching with her skin."

"What does this have to do with us?" I asked. "You've found one person that has some marks."

Valerie looked flustered. "My grandparents raised cattle. You brand them so everyone knows they're yours. Why would this girl be branded unless she belonged to someone?"

I shrugged. I wanted to state the obvious-you're right-but it was counterproductive.

Arbuckle set his hand on Valerie's shoulder. "We're definitely concerned about what this branding could mean. The girl has been abused, too, and we don't stand for things like that. But I'll be honest," he lowered his voice. "My real concern is about the men who went to Brickston. They haven't come back. The trip is short. They should've been back by now. When you pair that with this girl they found on the way there...well, I think something is wrong."

It was a good segue into telling Arbuckle we were taking some time off, which I was about to say, when Blaze spoke. "Did you try radioing them?"

They had a CB radio set up between the three main towns, but used it sparingly. An excommunicated citizen of Valtown listened in on a broadcast about supplies being delivered to Brickston and intercepted it, killing four men and taking two weeks' worth of food and some weaponry.

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Of course, which is why we're so worried. There was no response."

"You want us to go check out Brickston?" I asked.