"Why does he have to come with us?"

Taking a deep breath and trying not to scream in exasperation, I say, "Look, Izzy, I know you don't like Rogan – " "I hate him!" "– but he has just as much right to come with us to the Wall as you do."

Izzy just stomps out the front door, waving her katana sword dangerously close to Rogan's face on the way out. But he's as still as a statue.

"Well, at least we won't be standing around waiting for her to hurry up," Seth says, brushing past me and following her.

Izzy has been making a huge fuss about Rogan coming with us to the Wall tonight. Ellie organized shifts for us and the people who have been guarding the wall since it was built: We guard at night, they guard during the day. Since there are only five of us, some of the "locals" still guard at night. I guess because we're younger and see better. Or they just know we'll take whatever they give us, so they gave us the short straw.

Slipping my Glock into the waist of my jeans, I head for the door, colliding with Doyle, who just so happened to try to go through at the same time I did.

"Sorry," he mumbles, stepping back to let me pass as I step back for him to pass.

We look at each other for a second. I decide I'll just go ahead and walk out. Apparently, so does he. We do this strange dance a few more times before Natalia's voice sounds from behind us.

"Oh my God," she says, drawing her words out slowly, "You two are so lame."

As I turn and gawk at her, Doyle takes the opportunity to get through the door.

"Oh, did I offend you?" Natalia asks mockingly, sarcastically adding, "I'm sorry."

I shake my head a little and roll my eyes. I don't have time for her extreme immature-ness. So I walk out the door.

+++++

"Seth, stay away from me!" Izzy shoves Seth as we walk down the street, the sun setting behind us, "You keep coughing, and I don't wanna get sick!"

"Shut up!" Seth hisses, moving back to his original position right beside her, "People are trying to sleep!"

Izzy elbows him in the ribs, hard. "I'll wake up the entire town if it means you'll get away from me with all your germs! And anyway, nobody sleeps right now! It's not even dark! Idiot. Go away!"

"Okay, okay!" Seth laughs, slowing his pace and merging between Doyle and I.

"Well, we don't want your germs either," Doyle says, his tone serious.

Seth's eyes widen. "But –"

"Just kidding," Doyle grins. He has a beautiful smile.....

"You better be!" Seth jokes, nudging Doyle with his elbow.

Smiling, I look over my shoulder at Rogan and Pirate, who walk silently behind us. Rogan has his scarf pulled over the bottom half of his face, his beanie pulled low over the top half of his head, his gray eyes seeming to shine out between them. He's completely loaded down with his weapons. The rest of us just brought our favorites: I brought my Glock, Doyle brought his knife and his pistol, Seth brought the double-barreled shotgun, and Izzy brought her katana.

Seth decided a few days ago that it would be a good third project, aside from figuring out Rogan and Izzy's history and guarding the wall, to teach Izzy how to shoot a bow. Rogan won't let us near his – can't say that I blame him – but Seth managed to find one. I have no idea where. And so the lessons began. I'm sure you can imagine the stress Doyle and I have been under, trying to keep Izzy from stabbing Seth through the eye with an arrow just because he's annoying her with pointers and trying to show her how to hold a bow correctly. She does want to learn how to shoot something, but she really, really, doesn't like anyone enough to let them teach her. Especially Seth. Doyle and I aren't really qualified, considering neither one of us knows how to shoot a bow. And she hates Rogan, so of course he can't teach her.

We reach the wall just as the sun sinks below the horizon. Samantha, one of the daytime guards, meets us at the ladder by the gate. She is tall, muscular, and tattooed, and has a shaved head. She briefs us on what we're supposed to do – shoot any dead things that come too close, keep an eye out for survivors, alert one of the long-time night guards if we spot any survivors, be quiet, and don't fall.

She hands us a pair of night vision goggles and tells us all of the other guards are already in position, and that we should stand about ten yards apart. Then she leaves us to our own devices.

Rogan scales the ladder. Pirate sits down beside it, patiently waiting for his master to return. Doyle goes next, then Seth, then Izzy, then me.

Rogan has already started down the left side of the wall, but the rest of us just kind of stand there for a minute before spreading out. Seth follows Rogan. Doyle and Izzy go to the right. I stay where I am, finding myself left with the night vision goggles. Lucky me. I slip them on and look around. It's amazing, really, the technology. It's almost like daylight.

I scan the area, talking to myself and walking back and forth to stay awake. I hear Seth coughing.

Nothing much happens. There are a few shots in the distance. Coyotes howling. The random growls of dead things too far away to shoot.

+++++

It's nearly dawn. I don't have a watch, but I can tell. Everything is very still. Even the dead things. Almost like the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for the sun to come bursting over the horizon.

I yawn. I can't wait to go to bed. I'm so tired. I take off the night vision goggles. I don't want to be blinded when the sun comes up.

There is a lone dead thing stumbling toward the wall, getting too close for comfort. I raise my Glock, preparing to shoot it in the head, but before I squeeze the trigger, a gunshot rings out and it collapses. I look to my right, where the bullet came from.

The moment my eyes find Doyle, the sun comes crashing in, illuminating him and the steaming barrel of his pistol, his red hair gleaming. God, he's gorgeous.

Mist fills the air. My breath billows out in clouds. It's so cold. I think I'll see if Alicia has any hot chocolate. She probably doesn't. But I can still hope.

I hear Pirate growling and look down the ladder. Samantha is standing there.

"Graveyard shift's over," she says dully, "You can go home. Tell your friends."