The sun had almost set completely, travelling in the dark wasn't a good idea at all. It was impossible to travel without the headlights on and that would attract Z-packs.

“There,” Carol pointed at a small clothes store that had its door wide open, “looks like only one small front entrance and maybe just an as small extra back exit; and the store looks small enough to be unnoticeable,. It should be good for the night.”

Viktor parked right outside the door. “Reckon the big window might be a problem?”

“We just can't use any lights, is all,” replied Carol.

Before leaving the vehicle, Viktor attached silencers to two handguns, handing one to Carol. During the day, the sounds may be masked but at night even the howling wind was silent. They exited the vehicle cautiously, guns ready. Carol also carried her shotgun strapped across her back. Viktor clicked the lock on the key fob and locked the vehicle, more out of habit than necessity. He didn't except the zombies to open the doors nor break the glass; it was an unmarked police vehicle and the windows were all bulletproof and had grills.

They nodded to each other and walked silently into the store. After waiting for a few seconds to adjust to the darkness in the store, they walked further in. The store was bigger than it looked from the outside, but the recon didn't take long. The back exit was still locked. They found a rather spacious employees room in the back that only had a high small window for ventilation and still smelled of stale cigarettes.

“Oh man,” complained Carol in a low tone. She was proud to have never smoked in her life and always brought it up, Viktor pretended to believe her.

They rounded back to the entrance.

“Looks clear, let's get supplies in for the night. I'll watch.” Carol motioned to the vehicle.

“Fair enough and besides, with that room in the back-we can use some light for a bit.” Viktor handed his gun to her, walked back and collected a couple of water bottles and canned food, a small battery-powered lamp with adjustable brightness and two blankets.

“After you, my lady,” he bowed expecting an annoyed comeback or at least a pair of rolling eyes.

“Why, thank you kind sir,” giggled Carol.

Viktor laughed to himself silently. 'Women! I'll never understand them.'

He closed the shop door jamming the handle and then proceeded to the back room. Viktor lit the lamp to the lowest setting, Carol locked the door and put a chair under the handle.

“Just in case,” she winked at Viktor's confused look.

Viktor pushed the remaining chairs to one side and sat on the floor leaning on the wall, Carol sat next to him. They ate their 'dinner' in silence.

“I've wanted to ask you,” Carol said after finishing her food, “about dad. I mean, that day he looked at you like he knew you would care, that you... wouldn't say no to him, that he could trust you; that he could trust you with me. There's some history, right?”

Viktor looked at the floor, put his empty food can down and took a big sip of water. Carol was still looking at him expectantly, he decided to take his time in formulating an answer to that question; it wasn't an easy one.

He took a deep breath and simply stated, “Coach was human.”

“Huh?”

Viktor continued, “I've been trained by many people, top of the line soldiers, psychologists, weapons experts, survivalists, you name it. They taught us a lot: to attack, disable, kill, survive; there was even a McGyver course. It was all very strict and mechanical, no room for error anywhere; trained to be the best. But Coach was the only man who reminded us that we could fail, that we had choices to make; he reminded us that we were only human after all. He taught us to improve, improvise and be better than we could hope to be. There is no one who will forget that man. If I can call anyone a role model, it'd be him.” He finished with another sip of water.

Carol looked away for a second and wiped her eyes. She cleared her throat, “He was not my real father, you know. “

Viktor looked at her surprised.

She laughed humourlessly, “Yeah. He was my father's twin brother. When I was six, my parents died in a car crash, it was horrible; I later read that they were completely crushed after the truck had run over their little car. The moment he heard of it, he came running home. He fought tooth and nail to make sure that I didn't end up in a foster home or orphanage but that he got custody. He did and I'm glad that he did.” She wiped another tear, “I've always called him dad after that. My aunt died a year later and he raised me alone as his daughter.”

Viktor was at a loss for words, the respect he held for 'Coach' had increased by many folds. He put his arms around Carol, pulling her towards him and held her close.

Carol sat up slowly after a bit, she turned around and sat facing him, “There's another thing I have wanted to ask you...”

Viktor looked at her curiously.

“Viktor, you know, umm... I've been meaning to ask you...” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, “OK. Listen Vik-” Carol stopped mid sentence, her eyes growing large and panic surfacing on her face.

“Don't move,” she whispered.

Viktor kept still, a hundred horrible thoughts going on his mind, a thousand calculations being made in his head.

“Slowly, very slowly drag yourself forward,” whispered Carol again.

Viktor knew better than to question Carol then. Very slowly and cautiously, he dragged his butt across the floor and reached near Carol. She indicated with her head that he should turn around and look, her eyes still fixed on that spot. Viktor turned around carefully.

Viktor covered his mouth and laughed hard, he was almost rolling on the floor in laughter. Carol took her eyes off the wall and glared at him.

“Oh man! Oh man!” He kept repeating to himslef. Carol punched him in the ribs.

“Ouch!” He was still laughing, “Come on Carol! You went all panicky for that?” he asked pointing at the small spider on the wall which was next to where he was sitting moments before. “I don't believe it. That was priceless, you should've seen yourself.” He indicated by making his eyes big with his hands. “Damn!”

Carol continued to glare at him. “That thing is dangerous, venomous. You should be glad I saved your ass from being poisoned. And everyone knows spiders are evil.”

He was still trying to control his laughter.

“Good night. Hmph!” Carol grabbed her blanket, made a show of dusting the floor with some cloth she found and laid down to sleep.

Viktor took his blanket and laid down next to her, “Good night. Don't let the evil spider bite”

“Shut up!”

**************************************************************************

April 1, 2013

Viktor opened his eyes suddenly, he always woke up like that. No slight stirrings or tossing and turning. He stifled a yawn and felt Carol right beside him. She was laying almost fully over him with a hand across his chest, a leg over his leg and her face was buried in the crook of his neck; this was beginning to be a routine for her.

He never complained and he never let her know that he knew she slept all over him. If she was comfortable that way then he wasn't going to ruin it for her. She kept him attached to his humanity, gave him something to live for. Was it just that? Humanity and a purpose in life? He mentally shook his head. He'd sort out issues of the heart later, the pain of one loss was still raw in his mind. He closed his eyes again and turned slightly pretending to be asleep.

Carol woke up with a start feeling Viktor turn. She was all over him again, not that she regretted it. She had no idea how he would take it, it was a good thing that he never noticed,. The last thing she needed was an awkward moment with Viktor, probably the last person she would ever know.

She slowly untangled herself from him and stood up yawning wide.

“Viktor,” she called softly, “wake up sleepy head.” She nudged him with her foot.

Viktor woke up, stirring slowly, looking up at her, she had the little window to her back and her silhouette was framed well by the light that made it through.

“Now that is an image to wake up to.” He smiled and yawned.

Carol folded her hands across her chest smiling. 'Charmer. Where have you been all my life?'

Their mornings were always a like that, a little playful, happy and calm. The calm before the storm.

“Where did that spider go?” asked Viktor turning towards the wall; and just like that, the moment was gone.

They did some stretches and exercises, freshened up in an unimaginably clean, given the circumstances, bathroom and left the place. As usual, even the short few steps to the vehicle was made with the utmost deliberation.

Viktor got inside the passenger side and switched the radio on, he had tuned it to a specific channel and checked it religiously every morning.

The same monotonous broadcast was heard, “... a secure and functioning base in the North. If any survivors are listening, we advise you to make a heading to the forest in the North. We can offer you safety and security from the infected. Godspeed. I repeat, this is Captain McCappin. We have a secure and functioning base…”

Viktor switched the radio off and nodded at Carol. Heading north and finding the base had been their goal for a few weeks now. Compared to just trying to survive, it had given them something to look forward to.

Carol had driven for a couple of hours, they couldn't use just straight roads all the way through as many were blocked with damaged vehicles and other debris. To move even a few kilometres north they had to traverse through all the other directions and find unblocked roads. Luckily their vehicle was a sturdy one and they didn't have much trouble moving small obstacles from the way. This early in the morning not many Z-packs would be out and they betted on it to make steady progress.

After turning a corner onto a rather clear road, they spotted a man trying to walk in the opposite direction, he looked hurt and was limping. Carol came to a halt as noiselessly as she could. Both Viktor and herself armed themselves with handguns, they didn't want a repeat of the previous day.

The man turned around and stared at them.“Oh my God!” He was almost crying with happiness, “you guys are real! Real people! Help me please. Take me with you!” He started limping towards them.

“He looks hurt.” Carol placed her gun on her seat, made sure her Khukhuri knife was strapped to her side and grabbed a first aid kit from the back seat. Viktor exited, gun still in hand. Just like Viktor, Carol too subconsciously locked the vehicle after she got out.

They walked towards the man. Carol spoke up, “You look beat up. What happened? What's your name?”

The man stopped walking.

“Sir? You alright?” Carol called out again.

“Ain't that a pretty sight? Humanity still lives and aren't we lucky for that?” A sinister voice said from their side.

Carol looked around and saw a small group of people approach them. They stopped at a little distance after spying Viktor's gun.

Viktor counted twelve in total including the man on the road. Even though they didn't carry any guns, they were armed with an assortment of weapons. He didn't want a confrontation with this-rag tag group. Desperate enemies were the most dangerous.

The voice stepped forward, a steroid built, balding man. “My name is Simpson and this is our road,” he said motioning the length of the road with open arms, “we keep it clean and safe, there is a tax for crossing it.”

Viktor studied the man and his group. He knew the type, he had dealt with the type before.

“Please drop your gun and let's discuss this like civilised men.” Simpson continued.

Viktor examined the risk involved, he wouldn't be able to get them all with the gun and fight them if they charged. He thumbed the safety and flung the gun behind him, under their vehicle.

“Civilised? You ambushed us!” Carol's tone was annoyed, “We were going to help him.” She raised the first aid kit to emphasise her point.

“Everyone wants to help. We count on it.” Simpson said off-handedly and turned to Viktor, “I see you have a gun which means you have more. We need some. Give us some guns for our own protection and you can be on your way.” He sounded honest and earnest.

Viktor knew he couldn't trust this man, he was a criminal, his eyes betrayed his words.

Carol was the one to voice the thought. “You think we're stupid? You'll shoot us in the back once you get a gun.”

Simpson looked at them with respect and laughed loud, “Well you're more than just a purdy face. You're right, so here's the deal - leave your car here and run away quick. If you get away from us soon enough, maybe you won't get shot.”

“No deal,” said Viktor without even thinking.

Simpson eyed Viktor with venom. “James, would you care to explain to our friend what happens when they don't pay the tax?”

The limping man walked up to Simpson, he wasn't limping any more. “Which story boss? About the guy we left for the zombies to find?” He looked at Viktor and Carol, laughing and motioning as if he were telling a joke, “that guy thought he was tough, he did break Kate's hand to be fair, but finally we took him down. Broke his hands and legs and left him on a road, a couple of blocks away. The zombies had a feast.” He continued laughing.

“There was that cute couple the other time.” He whistled.

“That one was a pity,” Simpson said in a mock sad tone, “she was pretty and a fighter too.” Simpson was laughing again, an ugly evil laugh.

Carol felt sick at the stories. How in the aftermath of such a disaster her fellow human beings could do all that was beyond belief, anger was boiling up inside of her making her head and body hurt; she even dropped the kit without realising it. The men's callous attitude to taking life wasn't something she would be empathising with. She stole a glance at Viktor. She heard him controlling his breathing, he had told her he only needed to do that when he was beginning to get uncontrollably angry.

“Here's the deal.” Viktor spoke through gritted teeth. “We are going to leave here and you will let us. This encounter didn't happen.”

James spoke for Simpson, “We're gonna leave you for the big boys and you,” he pointed at Carol, “ will come to daddy.” He smiled a creepy smile.

James motioned at the group, Viktor tuned to his left to see two burly men dropping their weapons and coming at him. He pushed Carol behind him.

“Remember, you asked for this.” He said to James and Simpson although he was assessing the approaching men.

His mind went into combat mode, it had been some time but training rarely leaves a man. His assessment was simple: two men, large- Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Some muscle, more flab and positively no formal fight training. He moved slightly to his left so that only one of them could get to him first.

Dee tried for a right hook, Viktor easily swatted his arm and pushed him away forcefully tripping him. Dum aimed a fancy kick at his mid section, Viktor caught his foot and in a swift motion put knee to knee and bent his leg in a direction it wasn't designed to. The man howled in pain, Viktor continued the motion and elbowed the man in the face breaking his nose in the process. The man crumbled in a heap, crying and bleeding, Dum wasn't fighting anyone any more.

Dee tried to rush at Viktor, he sidestepped him catching his collar as he passed and pulled him back to face him. He aimed a vicious punch at Dee's right jaw dislocating it, the man did a complete rotation and faced Viktor disoriented. Viktor finished him with a powerful kick to his chest that sent him flying towards his leaders.

“Shit!” James and Simpson exclaimed in unison.

The stench of fear permeated their nostrils overwhelming their senses, they had never witnessed such a sight. The biggest men in the group had been incapacitated in mere minutes.

Even Carol seemed taken aback by the viciousness of Viktor's assault.

Viktor counted on that fear, he knew this battle was already won.

“Kill him!” It was James edging them on. The mob charged at them hesitantly, their weapons raised.

Carol ducked under a woman attacking her with a pipe, spinning and stopping behind her, punched her neck and was able to pry the pipe off her; along with her knife she easily dispatched any and all aggressors. Viktor also wasn't having much trouble, his training was no match for the malnourished and scared attackers. Very soon the road was littered with the dead and dying.

“Looks like I gotta do it myself,” muttered James as he was approaching Viktor. “When I'm done with you, even the zombies won't want you; after you, it'll be her, she'll wish she was dead.”

James kept on taunting and teasing Viktor as he circled him, especially raising his voice when blurting out the explicit things he would do to Carol trying to break his opponent's concentration and confidence. Viktor was controlling his breathing and didn't show any emotion.

James suddenly took Viktor down in a rugby tackle but Viktor completed the roll and stood up quickly, turning James around and kicking him behind the knees making him kneel. He had him in a powerful neck hold. He put his mouth next to his ear. “That mind game you were playing with me right now? I invented it. You prey on innocents, you don't deserve to frikkin' live,” he said before twisting his neck. James fell lifeless on the road.

Simpson started shouting all manner of abuse and was running at them with a sword in hand. He stopped abruptly when he heard a shriek.

“Pack!” Gasped Carol looking at Viktor. Both of them moved towards their vehicle without making a sound. Viktor shushed a dying man who was groaning from the ground.

From an alley a pack of four had suddenly appeared and targeted Simpson. He swung the sword and decapitated one. The others pulled back for a second talking with each other in grunts and growls, then circled Simpson from different sides. He tried swinging his sword to no avail, the zombies had learned.

“Please help me!” He was crying.

One of the zombies pretended to attack him and he swung his sword in that direction. But that was just a distraction tactic and his ally attacked Simpson biting into his sword hand. The others joined and made short work of Simpson.

“You reap what you sow,” mumbled Carol.

Viktor bent down under the vehicle, retrieved his gun, and aimed it at the pack. Suddenly he heard shrieks from behind them. He turned around to see another pack of five looking right at them, they shrieked again and began a slow sprint. Carol quickly clicked the unlock button, a dying man from the mob that had attacked them tried to pull her leg, she lost her balance almost tripping over but managed to scamper in the driver's side. Viktor huddled in through the back door. The pack that was devouring Simpson also took notice of this, they stopped and started a slow gait towards the car as well.

Viktor looked through the wind shield, then through the back glass. The zombies behind them were only a few feet away.

“Drive!” Viktor yelled.

Carol looked at her hand and then at the ground through the window.

“Carol!”

“I dropped the keys!”