My heart hit the ground at the same time Shane did. The bloody hatchet slipped from my numb fingers as I practically vaulted myself across the distance, hurdling bodies until I crashed to the ground next to him.

Asphalt scraped my knees through my jeans, tearing skin, but I didn't notice as I grabbed his shoulders. He was struggling to breathe, his chest heaving as his lungs desperately tried to pull in more oxygen.

I struggled to roll him onto his side to make sure he didn't somehow asphyxiate, jumping slightly with surprise when Kyle knelt next to me and helped. His hands shook lightly, but I didn't have the attention to spare him in that moment. Besides, what was I going to say?

It'll be okay is a laughable statement at the very best, enough to provoke a murderous temper at the worst.

"Was he bit?" my father called from where he was standing across the field of bodies. His words held a warning I did not need to hear.

"No he wasn't fucking bit," I snarled, Dad's harsh words igniting the fury of my temper. "He's sick. He can't breathe."

I didn't know what to do. It wasn't like we had anything to help him breathe. I looked at Kyle and from the way he paled, I realized I hadn't done anything to hide the fear or helplessness in my eyes. I'm not sure I could have succeeded even if I'd tried. All I could do was hope and wait for Shane's body to sort itself out, and make sure he didn't choke in the meantime. 

That sort of helplessness is torture. Not being able to do something hurts so much worse than even doing something wrong. At least with the latter you tried.

Shane finally started coughing and I hovered over the top of him, keeping him tilted forward slightly. A nasty mix of phlegm and saliva came from his mouth and his eyes were wide open as he struggled.

My vision blurred... and I prayed.

I simply rested my forehead against his shoulder, jolted by every spasm that wracked his body, and I prayed.

Desperate times, right?

You later told me that it only lasted maybe three or four minutes. Just a handful of minutes. But it felt like hours before he finally stopped coughing and simply lay there gasping. 

I could hear that awful wheezing sound deep in his lungs. I could feel how hot he was with fever. I had been really freaking wrong when I said it was just a cold. Or I had just wanted to delude myself into thinking that Shane wasn't about to be down for the count.

He didn't have a cold.

The wheezing should have given it away. And the aches. And the chills. And the fact that he hadn't been sleeping well. Colds didn't last for weeks. Colds didn't usually come with a fever.

Shane probably had bronchitis.

And he had it because I hadn't paid enough attention when it was just a cold. 

I started when his too-warm fingers wrapped around my arm. He was still laying on the blood-soaked ground, zombie gore splattered across his face. His complexion had a sort of greyish cast to it—from the sickness, from pure exhaustion, it didn't really matter.

"Are you okay?" he croaked.

A small laugh lurched in the back of my throat, and I was unable to hold it back. A hysterical little sound burst out of me, tears spilling down my cheeks. He was the one who had collapsed because he couldn't freaking breathe, but I was the one who needed to be checked on?

Why does he have to be so stupid?

His hand shaking slightly, he brushed the tears away, and Kyle and I helped him sit up. Grimacing, he rubbed at his chest and met my eyes.

"Maybe I should have told you I was sick sooner," he muttered.

"Oh, ya think?" My voice was an octave too high to really be considered sarcastic. Shane's eyebrows lifted momentarily in acknowledgement, then he extended a hand to Kyle.

His brother helped him to his feet, then both of us hovered as he swayed.

"Just a little dizzy," he muttered. "I'm fine."

"You say I'm fine one more time," I grumbled.

"You'll what?"

 I glared up at him, my fear turning into anger now that the adrenaline rush had petered out. "I don't know yet," I hissed, bloody hands curling into fists. "But it'll be bad." 

With that pronouncement, I began picking my way across the street. Blood smeared my boots, brains and guts squishing as I stepped between splayed limbs and split skulls. I was a little shocked by the number of bodies that had obviously been axed to death, second-death... whatever. I had killed more than I remembered engaging with, is what I'm trying to say.

And it just catches me in moments like that, sometimes, the fact that I'd just killed a bunch of things that had been human, that still looked more or less human, and I couldn't remember the exact number. I might have said this before but... I'm not even sure if I could tell you how many alive people I've killed.

Probably not good, right?

Yeah.

"When she gets like that," Kyle whispered, pulling me from my reverie, "I think: better you than me."

Shane snorted wearily, but they both fell silent when I glanced over my shoulder, eyes narrowed in a warning. They both affected innocent expressions, which made me snort. I picked up the hatchet I'd dropped, using the tattered shirt of a zombie to clean the blood and brain matter off of it.

"Can we go now?" I snapped at Dad, making him raise an eyebrow at me. I snarled under my breath, stalking past everyone to the vehicles, then stopped, eyes darting from one car to the other.

"You guys can take Lisa's car," you said quietly from behind me, making me jump. You gestured to a blue sedan at the end of the line. "It'll be a little tight, but..."

"Yeah. Thanks," I said, probably too brusquely. 

You nodded slowly. "The keys are inside. Just follow us back."

I didn't bother responding, just directed Shane into the passenger seat, smacking his hand when he reached for the driver's side door. He stuck his tongue out at me, but made his way around the car, falling into the seat with about as much grace as a sack of potatoes. 

Kyle, Danielle, Cassidy and Sacha squeezed into the back and I started the car, throwing it into drive. Dad stopped by the window and thumped his fist lightly against the dirty glass. I stared blankly out the windshield for a moment, then pressed my lips into a thin line and rolled down the window.

Dad leaned down, arm resting on the roof of the car. He glanced at Shane, then at the unyielding expression on my face. He rapped his knuckles twice against the metal and said, "Remember, after we get home you and I will need to talk, Raleigh."

"Can we get there first?" I asked, cocking my head at him. "Would that be all right with you?"

Dad's eyebrows lowered in disapproval. "Still got that mouth on you."

The corners of my mouth curled, childish delight welling up at the fact that I could still get under his skin in less than twenty words. "At least I come by it naturally, Dad."

He didn't have a response to that. Dad just frowned at me, then walked to the Jeep in the front of the convoy. We waited for a moment, watching the Jeep and the other vehicle, a newer model Chevy, clamber through the bodies.

Shane sighed as best he could, frowning at the dead strewn over the pavement. "Don't have enough clearance."

"Yeah." I put the car in reverse. "I thought not."

"Aaron better bring my truck back." Shane slumped down in his seat, rubbing absently at his chest. I reached over and patted his knee, then put the car in reverse.

I backed up until I hit a driveway, then turned in and drove across three or four lawns, ignoring the seatbelt warning dinging away at me. It eventually stopped and I misjudged the curb a little, wincing when the bottom of the car scraped the concrete.

By the time I hit asphalt again, Dad was already turning onto a different street. I ground my teeth and punched the gas to catch up with them. Shane gave me a sideways glance, then looked in the mirror, no doubt meeting Kyle's eyes.

Then he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, already looking beleaguered.

"Yes," I muttered, "this is going to be exactly as awkward as you're thinking."

He grimaced. "And here I was foolishly hoping we could skip the whole meet the parents thing."

"Considering that we were all pretty sure our parents were dead," I pointed out. Then I winced. Even by our standards that was pretty harsh.

Shane gave me a half-smile, then turned toward the window, watching the houses pass. After we traveled a few blocks, I caught him frowning from the corner of my eye. Every now and then, he'd turn in his seat slightly, staring at certain houses in particular. I couldn't decide what had caught his attention.

I opened my mouth to ask, but he turned back to me first. "They have different markers," he said before I could get the question out.

Silence filled the car for a moment, then I looked in the rearview mirror. Kyle was looking out the window, searching for whatever Shane was talking about, while Danielle, Cassidy and Sacha met my gaze. They looked just as lost as I was.

"What?" I finally asked, letting up on the gas as I peered at the houses.

Shane pointed to a faded blue house. "On the door."

I almost missed it. It was so small I didn't even know how he'd seen it in the first place. There, next to the doorknob was some kind of symbol in dark paint. I slowed the car more, squinting in an effort to bring it into better focus.

"It's an alpha," I finally said in surprise. 

"Check the next door," Shane instructed, looking through the windshield now to make sure we didn't lose you guys.

I craned my neck to see the next door, my brow furrowing. "An... omega?"

Kyle nodded in agreement, and I looked at Shane. Cassidy rolled her window down to get a better look at the houses on the other side of the street and confirmed, "It's the same over here, too."

"What's the Greek alphabet doing on doors in what was suburban America?" I muttered. "And why weren't there any where we were staying?"

I frowned at myself, trying to remember if that was accurate. I thought I would remember something so odd, but I'd also been tired. It had been coming on to dark when we'd finally stopped last night. 

But Sacha confirmed what I'd been thinking. "There wasn't one on the door of the house we used."

Shane shook his head. "I don't know," he said, voice quiet. "But I'm personally not a fan of weird things."

Understatement. Possibly of the century. Weird was unknown and unknown could be deadly. I chewed at my lower lip, then said, "Maybe they left them?" I nodded toward the tail lights I was playing catch-up with. "To keep track of which houses they've already searched."

It was plausible enough. Didn't explain why some were alphas and some were omegas, but it explained the marks well enough that Shane shrugged.

"Maybe," he said. Then he glanced at me. "I don't suppose you would ask dear old dad?"

I made a face at him, but nodded.

There was a lot I planned on asking dear old Dad.

We followed you guys out of town and started heading west, sticking to what were mostly dirt roads. Really bad dirt roads.

"You suppose all the paved roads are jammed up?" Danielle complained, wincing as she was thrown into Sacha by a particularly rough patch of road. Again.

"Probably," I managed through gritted teeth. My knuckles were white on the wheel as I fought through a minefield of potholes, just to have my liver rattled around by a slew of washboards deeper than the bar-ditches on the sides of the road.

The only one seemingly unaffected by the state of the road was Shane. Jerk was sacked out in the front seat, completely dead to the world. Which, you know, was good for him. But I still don't understand how he manages to do it, which is irritating to put it mildly.

I'm almost convinced that he just fakes it because he knows it annoys me.

A vicious rattling was coming from somewhere in the car that couldn't possibly be good, and I caught myself wondering if Lisa would hold me responsible for any damages. Especially considering that Dad was the one who'd picked the way we took.

Kyle was still watching out the window, a small frown putting a dent between his eyebrows. I would have bet money that he was still puzzling over the alpha-omega thing. I'll admit I was curious, but had bigger things to think about.

Like the dubious state of my husband's lungs at the time.

Guess I should have paid more attention. Might have changed something, right?

Yeah... I don't really think so, either.

Anyway, we finally broke free of that last line of trees, I won't lie and say we weren't impressed. The hour and a half ride was worth the sight of the wooden walls twice the height of Shane, and the sturdy gate all of which appeared to have been reinforced with metal beams.

The fort was constructed of logs almost as wide was my shoulders. Smoke rose from a fire or maybe some kind of outdoor stove. There were fields of crops on the flat ground surrounding the hill the fort sat on. It was a lot bigger than I had expected. 

"Jesus," Shane muttered, coughing a little.

My lips pressed down into a thin line. How different things would have been if we'd found a place like that when this whole thing started.

I'll just say it. The place was damn impressive. It looked safe and well supplied, nearly self-functioning. It looked... great. And we were green with envy, if I'm being completely honest.

Dad hit the horn twice on his Jeep, making us all flinch, and then the gates were being opened. 

We all exchanged a nervous glance as we pulled slowly through the opening and caught sight at the number of people inside the fences. Most of them were diligently focused on whatever the task at hand was, but a few had already wandered over to where Dad was getting out of the Jeep.

My heart was pounding in my throat, my eyes darting from face to unfamiliar face. Beside me, Shane was wound tight as a spring. I could feel the tension roiling off the others in the back.

Then Dad was gesturing for me to get out of the car.