We were there less than a week before I needed to get outside of the fences, no matter how flimsy they seemed to be.

Though, thanks to Shane's leadership and Kyle's weird but not unexpected knowledge of how to build shit, that was slowly being improved.

I woke up the third or fourth morning there to find Shane already gone, and an aching need to be somewhere that felt real.

His words had engraved themselves on my brain. This place wasn't real.

I think that's probably Rule #29, which is kind of a buy one, get one free deal. This rule is kinda weird. It's certainly the most fluid.

What was real, isn't real now. It's all subjective.

The thing that makes this rule so changeable is that I'm not just talking about how the world before is different from the world now. That's too set in stone and our situation changes on the regular.

Now is what matters. Everything is subjective in the moment it's presented, and while Ashley's settlement might have felt real to us three months ago, it didn't feel real now, with everything we had seen.

Maybe if we had found this place earlier, it would have been a smoother transition. But the fact of the matter was that Shane wasn't the only one hard-wired for a problem to show its ugly, potentially undead face.

Let me give you a little idea: We had been told it was safe. Even Lauren had admitted that nothing serious had happened and that things stayed pretty quiet. It didn't matter.

The house would creak and Shane and I would both sit bolt upright, hands reaching for knives on bedside tables or guns under pillows.

We all still spoke in near whispers. I can't tell you how many times I was told to speak up.

Cas about killed someone who placed a hand on her shoulder when she wasn't expecting it, grabbing her wrist and throwing her to the ground. That had been awkward.

There were other kids, some pretty young, but most around Sam and Sach and Vik's ages. The comparison between our kids and theirs was... intense. Distressing almost, if I hadn't understood that my kids would survive anything because of the way they were.

We all heard the whispers. Savage. Cold. Stand-offish. Blunt. Messed up was popular. I heard crazy once or twice.

One woman told me that she had been a psychologist before this. Go figure, right? You meet all kinds even though there aren't that many left. Anyway, she led with that and... offered her services to help us deal with our issues.

I had asked her what issues. Apparently that had been the wrong answer.

It probably didn't help when one of the oldest teenagers wouldn't leave Vik alone and Sacha damn near killed him.

It certainly didn't help when Shane ranted for close to five minutes, shouting at a guy who had told him a regular watch wasn't necessary.

The truth of the matter was that we just didn't fit. And we couldn't, or wouldn't, find a way to coexist easily with these people who wanted to... I don't know, hold hands and sing kumbaya until the sun stopped rising.

Anyway, so I woke up, positively itching to do... something. It took me forever to put my finger on it, but I eventually realized that all I wanted was to make sure that I could still fight. That I hadn't been sucked into this twilight zone of a settlement and turned into a pod person.

So I just put on my boots, because we still slept in our clothes, and grabbed my machete, not even bothering with a gun and headed to the gate.

We were still staying in the main house. Ashley thought it best if we had a separate "adjustment period", where we wouldn't accidentally kill someone who bumped into our tent in the middle of the night.

So for the time being, we were on beds, in rooms with doors.

I made my way quietly down the stairs, wincing when they creaked, just to run smack into Kyle as he came from a room on the second floor.

Critically I eyed his mussed hair then, pointing, said, "You missed a button."

Kyle blushed, fixing his shirt as I peered around him. Glancing back up at him, I guessed, "Lauren?"

He ran his hands through his hair in a half-assed attempt to tame it and shrugged. "She's not so bad for being Army."

"Uh-huh." I grinned.

"Shut up, Raleigh," Kyle muttered, trying to edge past me.

I stopped him, putting a hand on his elbow and said, "Just... Careful, Kyle. Okay?"

He looked like he wanted to snap something sarcastic at me, then stopped before sighing and giving me a serious answer. "She's like us, Rals. She gets it. And she's smart. Really smart. She's been trying to keep this place together but... she's had problems. With some of the others. Some of the ones here before her."

An image of Justin flashed in my mind and I scowled. "Yeah. I got that impression."

Kyle took that moment to eye the machete at my belt and asked, "Felt like a walk?"

Now it was my turn to shrug, then I relented and said, "I just need to get back out there for a minute. I need to be somewhere... normal."

I frowned when that was the word that came out, and Kyle nodded gravely.

This is what I mean by subjectivity. It was probably wrong and a little bit twisted that the world out there, with all the zombies and death and struggle, was my new normal. My preferred normal.

We started down the stairs until Kyle turned to the kitchen, muttering something about needed to go over some things with Ashley. I made my way outside, the air somewhat balmy, and inhaled deeply, looking around me at all of the activity.

I could see a garden of some sort being prepared for the new growing season, and heard hammers somewhere around the back of the house. I cringed every time the sound of a struck nail rang through the air. I didn't really care about what was being built.

I spotted Shane in deep conversation with Cas, him pointing out something on what I assumed was a map spread out on the table before him. Vik waved at me from where she was talking with Sam, sitting on a half constructed platform in one of the massive elms on the property.

And you guessed it, Shane had gotten the ball rolling on that one too, though he'd had a strong supporting voice from Lauren. Ashley had agreed pretty readily, even when others argued that we didn't need to waste the nails, or the time.

I was halfway to the fence when Cam popped up, falling into step beside me.

"Going somewhere?"

"Out," I hedged.

"It's kinda dangerous out there," he noted, and I stopped walking for a moment, staring at him blankly.

Then I shook my head and tapped the machete. "That's what this is for."

I started walking again and Cam asked, "Why do you want to go out?"

I looked at him from the corner of my eye and said, "Just 'cause."

Cam laughed. "You're not very friendly, are you?"

"Nope," I agreed readily, opening the wide gate just a little, slipping through, closing it before Cam could follow me out. I smiled and said, "Just going for a little run, Cam. You know, like people used to do. I just want to see what I can see."

He blinked sluggishly at me and I started to jog away from the fence. I flinched when he shouted, "When will you be back?"

I just waved a hand over my shoulder, disappearing into the woods around us.

I ran for probably about half a mile to make sure he didn't just follow me before I came to a poorly maintained dirt road. Slowing to a walk, I took a moment to listen and watch, but everything was quiet.

Not bad quiet. I could hear birds and squirrels rustling through the branches above my head so, for now, I knew I was more or less alone.

With a shrug, I turned right and meandered along the road, just kind of taking in the day. The spring sunshine was warm on my face, a still-cool breeze keeping me from getting too hot. I frowned when I realized I hadn't grabbed any water, but decided that I wouldn't be gone long enough for it to be a problem.

I assumed that Kyle would let Shane know where I'd gone. Since he—most likely—valued his brother's sanity. If you could call it that.

It didn't take me long to come to another road, this one just a little smaller, and frowned when I saw footprints through the random patches of mud.

But this was kind of what I'd been looking for.

See, there's the fluidity of #29 again. Before, I would have smacked anyone who just went looking for a fight. Because that's like the ultimate stupidity when you know that the fight's going to come to you at some point anyway.

Now, I just wanted to get a little bloody. Because my situation had evolved.

Crazy? Probably.

Honest? Definitely.

I skirted the road at the treeline, listening hard, watching the forest around me with a sharp eye. 

Zombies tend to congregate on paths of least resistance, which usually meant roads, but they don't exactly follow 'stay of the grass' signs, you know?

I smiled when I heard the continuous, soft growls that all zombies emit.

I paused, looking around trees until I found it. Laughing a little, I walked toward it casually, starting to grin when it swung around to hiss at me, raising fingers that had been rotted down to the bone.

It had been bitten on its face, so I could see through its cheek, bone and tendons visible. I watched in fascination as I could see the tendons pulling on the bones as it opened its mouth in anticipation of eating me before I took out my machete.

It lunged and I danced to the side, the zombie going a little past me, swinging the blade back. It connected with the back of the zombie's head, almost beheading the thing as I sliced easily through rotted bone and flesh.

The zombie dropped to the ground, taking my machete with it and I sighed, frowning at the body like it had meant to take my weapon.

I bent down to yank the blade out, and I'm pretty sure it saved my life.

I grew still when I heard voices, then hit the ground, a pool of blood from the zombie soaking down the front of my shirt as I peered over the top of its corpse.

"You're sure she went this way?"

"Yeah. Of course I'm sure," Cam answered and my eyes widened. I couldn't see them yet, but they sounded close and cover was perilously thin.

So I did the only thing I could think of, dragging the zombie's body over the top of me, gagging as more gore smeared over me, blood dripping down the side of my face. Hopefully, they'd just see a dead body, maybe two.

If not, I'd have to be damn quick with that machete.

"I don't see her, man." I didn't recognize this voice.

Crossly, Justin's voice said, "We just need to check that she hasn't found the cabin. Or take care of her if she has."

Yeah. That one I recognized. And he had also made me horribly curious.

But I couldn't do anything about it just yet.

My heart stopped, my hand tightening on the handle of my machete when the one I didn't recognize said, "What's that over there?"

I heard footsteps crunch over the old carpet of dead leaves, coming closer and tensed slightly, not daring to move, even as some of the blood crept steadily closer to my eye.

"Ah. It's nothin', just a dead one," Cam responded and the footsteps stopped.

"You sure?"

"Is it moving, jackass?" Justin snapped. "Come on. We need to get going. The cabin's not too far from here."

"How will we know if she's even been there?" Cam asked, sounding a little anxious.

Justin laughed, the sound cold and said, "I've set up a couple trip wires around the place. She'll leave some sort of evidence, I take 'em down when we're storing stuff." His voice threatening now, he said, "That way I'll know if anyone tries to buck the system. Take more than they earn."

I remembered what Cam had told me and frowned, closing one eye to try and stop the blood from getting into it. I had to bite my tongue when I felt the cold, slippery substance pool in the corner of my eye.

This was one of those experiences that led me to believe that a.) we're either already infected and/or immune, or b.) that the pathogen or whatever that causes this damn virus isn't blood borne. The active version at least.

But that's not really what was important in that particular moment.

In spite of Justin's hurry, they stood there for what felt like forever and I smelled the acrid scent of cigarette smoke float through the air. Bitterly, I wondered if a pack of smokes was one of those little extras Cam had told me about for picking the most fences.

But finally, I heard them start to move on. I waited until the forest was still, then shoved the zombie off of me, wiping frantically at my eyes.

I blinked until my vision cleared, though I could still feel the sticky goo around my eyes in a sort of macabre mask. Looking down, I swore silently when I realized I was completely covered in nasty dead yuck.

Not exactly what I'd had in mind for my little jaunt through the woods. I'd just wanted a little bloody.

I looked back behind me, toward the settlement, then toward where I had heard them move to.

This was probably a bad idea, but I needed to know.

I'm going to throw it back to something Shane had said long ago: It's better to chance it a little and know, than sit blind, unsure.

I moved as quickly and as silently as I could through the woods, careful not to leave too much evidence of my passage, making sure that I wouldn't screw myself and run into Justin's crew.

It didn't take long before I reached an almost idyllic little clearing, with a cute little cabin sitting right smack in the middle. The only thing that ruined it was the zombies queued up around the split-rail fence.

Guessing that they would come back this way, I circled around the modest valley until I came to a place where I was pretty positive they wouldn't come to, and that I could still see the front door from.

I settled against the trunk of a sycamore, partially hidden by dead brush and tall, yellow grass, watching as figures I couldn't quite make out started picking the zombies off with those makeshift spears I'd seen before. One of them was using a bow, using the zombies as target practice.

After that, they went into the cabin, and I waited probably another hour.

I could never decide if this was a life lesson or a rule, so you can decide for yourself.

Patience is everything.

You have to be able to sit and wait, because if you move at the wrong moment, then you're dead. No ifs, ands or buts about it. Patience is key.

Luckily, I'd had lots of practice, so I waited quietly, praying that a zombie wouldn't stumble over the top of me, ruining my stakeout.

I was dozing slightly when I heard the door bang shut. I watched as they crossed the yard and left, tromping back into the woods, loudly enough that I could hear them clear across the little valley.

I looked at the sky gauging the time, sure that Shane was probably livid before I stood slowly and made my way cautiously toward the cabin. I placed each step carefully, Justin's warning about trip wires still very fresh in my head.

The gore stuck my clothes to me, the drying blood gritty and unpleasant against my skin.

I reached the cabin no problem, then went around to one of the windows. Looking carefully, I found a small, brown piece of string tied across the sill, easily missed if one wasn't looking for it and leaned over gingerly, careful not to disturb it as I peered inside.

What I saw was enough for me to take off running, heading back to the settlement and Shane.