"Ready?" Doyle's hushed voice floats through the near-darkness as we crouch in the shadows of a house about a hundred yards away from the gate.

As a chorus of murmurs in the affirmative answer his question, his eyes find mine in the dim moonlight. A shiver goes down my spine, but I mentally shake it off. He's looking at everybody, not just me. I give a brief nod, and he turns back toward the gate.

"This is how we'll do it," he whispers over his shoulder, "Rogan, Mara and Pirate, Seth and Izzy, me and Wynne, in that order."

He turns around and points at Rogan, "you'll get the gate open, and wait for Seth and Izzy. When they get there, y'all run, don't sit for Wynne and I, we'll be right behind you. And we'll close the gate." He glances around at all of us for a second, his eyes lingering on me a second longer. Or maybe I'm just imagining it....

"Remember, stick to the shadows," he says.

Izzy scoffs. "Duh."

Ignoring her, Doyle nods at Rogan and Mara. "Whenever you're ready."

I can't believe she's.....you know. I mean, that's the last thing I expected to hear. It's crazy, and really kind of unfortunate, I mean, we are in the zombie apocalypse after all.

I'm just gonna keep an eye on her, make sure she's doing okay. Not that Rogan isn't doing a good enough job of taking care of her. He carried her all the way here. Won't let her out of his sight. Well, he'll let her use the bathroom.......okay, focus Wynne....

A moment later, Rogan and Mara, with Pirate at their heels, hurry across the frozen grass, their panting breaths forming wispy clouds in the cold air as they quickly dodge into the shadow of the wall. An instant passes before I see Rogan's silhouette at the gate, silently fiddling with the handle.

Doyle turns to Seth and Izzy, "Okay, get ready. When he gets the gate open, y'all run over there."

Seth nods solemnly. "Listen, man...uh...." He clears his throat. "If anything happens, just know.....well...." He falls silent before placing his hand on Doyle's shoulder. "You're like a brother to me."

"Likewise," Doyle says, and even in the dimness, I can see a small smile playing at his lips. Those perfect - ahem. Never mind.

Seth pulls him into a quick hug before Izzy hisses that the gate is open, and they take off.

"Do you think something will happen?" I ask cautiously, still debating whether I want to know the answer or not.

He shrugs. "I don't know, Wynne, I really don't." His hazel-explosion eyes lock on my blue ones. "It's possible. Since we were involved in murder."

A sinking feeling fills the pit of my stomach. Murder. "You think they might be after us?"

He nods grimly. "Natalia could have told them everything. And you know she hates us, so even though Rogan did all the killing, she'll work us in there, too."

He's right. They could be looking for us right now. We could easily be mistaken for zombies once we get outside. We could be shot. Killed.

Fear seizes me. My breaths start coming shallow and quick.

"Wynne," Doyle says, his voice urgent, "Calm down." His hand comes to rest on my shoulder. "It'll be okay. We'll be fine." He squeezes my shoulder lightly before removing his hand and turning back to the gate.

I try to calm down, try to focus more on the possible positive outcomes than the possible negative ones.

"Okay," Doyle says over his shoulder, "let's -"

A bright light suddenly blinds us from all around.

"What the hell?!" Doyle exclaims, blinking rapidly.

As my eyes slowly adjust, I realize that the light comes from several large lights, much like the ones used in football stadiums.

I hear several sets of footsteps thumping down the street, and more from atop the wall.

"It's now or never," Doyle mutters, scrambling to his feet, grabbing my arm and pulling me up with him.

I look back down the road and see a group of armed guards storming toward us. Doyle must see them too, because he shoves me toward the gate, shouting, "Go! Go!"

I half-stumble, half-run toward the open gate. Seth and the others are gone already. I hear Doyle's footfalls behind me, and I'm almost there when I trip and land flat on my face.

Doyle catches up to me, lifting me by the armpits and pretty much dragging me along with him. His warm breath tickles my ear as we near the gate.

BANG!

The first gunshot pierces the still air. I gasp, my arms flying up to protect my head as I duck reflexively.

"Faster, Wynne!" Doyle gasps, pushing me ahead of him as we finally reach the gate. I sprint through it, gasping for breath, my lungs burning from the frigid night air.

Doyle follows me through, turning to drag the gate closed, and I rush to help him. Closing the gate will slow them down.

"No Wynne, go! I'll do this," He snaps, pushing me back.

But I step back to the gate, and another gunshot rips through the night as we shove it closed.

The lock clicks shut loudly, and we turn to run. A third gunshot disturbs the air, and I can't help but scream.

I turn left, running along the wall, toward the small group of trees, Doyle right beside me, our feet crunching on the hard grass.

The sound of the gate creaking open makes my hair stand on end. Another gunshot, much louder than the others, sounds from atop the wall.

I duck, nearly tripping again, biting my lip to keep from screaming. Doyle's fingers wrap around my right wrist to catch me, and I turn to look at him.

His eyes meet mine for a split second before another gunshot jars my ears, and we start to run even faster. The pop-pop of handguns sounds behind us.

The cluster of trees is in sight now, and a rush of adrenaline sends me sprinting toward it even faster. We're halfway there when another shower of gunshots fills the air.

Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain shoots up and down my left arm. I cry out, and Doyle sputters, "You're hit?"

"My arm!" I gasp, the warm, wet feeling of blood seeping down my sleeve.

"Keep running!" He tells me, his grip tightening on my wrist.

Suddenly, a small flash of light, accompanied by a resounding pop comes from the trees ahead of us.

More sparks and gunshots follow that, only to be answered by more gunshots from behind us.

My heart pounds in my throat as we reach the trees, my feet becoming tangled in the undergrowth, Doyle pulling me along with him deeper into the shadows.

"Thank God you guys made it!" Seth's voice reaches us in the darkness.

"Wynne's hit," Doyle says, quickly guiding me to a log and lowering me onto it.

"Is it bad?" Seth asks as Doyle kneels in front of me.

"It's just my arm," I tell them, gritting my teeth. It might just be my arm, but God it hurts like hell.

Doyle tugs my sleeve down before pressing his cool fingers against my blood-soaked skin. His touch sends a shooting pain through my whole arm and shoulder, and I wince.

"Sorry," He says softly, "It's just a graze though." He gently pulls my sleeve back up. "We'll deal with it later." I nod as his hand brushes mine, accidentally, no doubt, but sending a shiver through me nonetheless.

"Rogan's holding them off," Seth tells us, "But we've gotta go. The woods aren't far from here."

Doyle climbs to his feet. "I'll stay with him, you two get Izzy and Mara and make a run for it."

"No," Seth says immediately, "We're not leaving you. We tried that earlier, and see how well that ended? Wynne got shot!"

"Don't argue, there isn't time," Doyle demands, pulling his pistol from his waistband and pulling back the slide. Seth and I stay where we are in silence before Doyle glares daggers at us, growling, "Go!"

Seth pulls me to my feet by my good arm, leading me deeper into the trees, away from the gunfire. I stumble after him until he stops in front of Izzy, who seems impatient, and Mara, who is crouching in the bushes beside Pirate.

"We're supposed to go now," Seth says, and Izzy groans.

"I wanna fight the little bastards!" She exclaims.

"Izzy, shut up," Seth tells her sternly, "We have to go now."

"But what about Rogan?" Mara asks softly, "And Doyle?"

Seth sighs, rubbing his forehead, "They'll be right behind us, they're just...creating a distraction so we can get out of here."

"I don't think we should split up," Izzy retorts, folding her arms across her chest.

"Me neither," I say, "But if we don't it'll be easier for them to catch us."

Izzy grunts in frustration. "I guess so."

Seth helps Mara up. "Let's go."