I was eager to return to Gramma. I never liked leaving her alone for very long, even though she said she didn't mind being alone.

"If you can't enjoy your own company, it's time to reevaluate yourself," she would say.

She was full of old quotes like that.

I left the dining area early. Hector wasn't able to follow me to my quarters, but he was sure to give another discrete wink before I left. I just glared at him until I passed.

I wasn't sure how to feel about being pursued by a superior. Surely it was dangerous. The others would notice sooner or later. Would they kill me? Would they transfer me to a potential compound? Change me?

That would be the worst scenario I could come up with. No matter what, I would never want to be one of them. I understand, it gave strength. It wasn't lost on me that I would never have to worry about other superiors or deaders ever again, if I were a superior. Yet, I would have to drink the blood of my kin; that was something I just could not picture doing. Ever.

There was just so much going on in my head, I had to figure it out. I needed advice. Gran was basically the only person in my family I could turn to with such matters. The others...they just lost themselves in the compound life. I didn't fit in with them, or anyone else. I didn't feel the same way about the superiors as the rest of them did. They were the firsty's saviors, but they were my enemies as surely as the deaders waiting in the wild for a lonely firsty to wonder by for a bit of evening devouring. Besides that, I had developed a habit of asking my grandma everything; either because she seemed to know all of the answers or because she'd taught me everything.

We didn't have school - a place she said kids used to attend to learn things like reading, writing, math, and history - so she taught my brother and me everything. Most families had to teach their own. Then there were those families that didn't know very much at all. Those families were mostly in compounds thirty through forty, because they were easier to handle, or so I've heard. They didn't need as much security in those compounds. As a rule, the more intelligent firsties were the more security they had. To me, that was proof that the security was more for their protection than ours. What were they afraid of? Others, like my mother and father, just assumed that the smarter the firsty, the more afraid of the outside they would be. I didn't believe that. You don't have to be a genius to fear a flesh-tearing, gut-gnawing deader.

"You're early," Gramma observed upon my return.

She sat comfortably in her old rocking chair with her knitting spread out around her. She was probably making another blanket. She was good at knitting those. They were so soft and warm. I was delighted that the superiors kept her supplied well, but I had wondered why. Maybe it was just more proof that they liked her on some level. She was a very likable person, but usually if they liked someone it meant- the thought made me ill. They wouldn't change my grandma, or they'd already have done it. Wouldn't they?

She was getting along in age; they had even stopped bleeding her long ago because of it. In fact, I couldn't remember one time that they'd ever bled my grandma. They never bled the potentials either. Did they plan to make her one of them someday? Were they biding their time until she was at the brink of death before they had her join their ranks?

I had no way of knowing. I could only hope they didn't plan anything sinister, and I could only hope the same for myself.

"I wanted some time with you. I need to talk to you," I said, kneeling down by her rocker.

"Is this about Hector?" Grandma asked.

Always so observant was she. She must have read between the lines when he'd made the spectacle in the dining area the night before.

"How did you know his name, Gramma?" I questioned.

"Oh, love, I just know things. And you will too, when you get as old and decrepit as I am."

"Gran, you're not decrepit." I shrugged off her claim.

"I'm sure no fresh daisy." She replied with a soft giggle.

"What is his deal, do you think?" I said, jumping right in.

"You're getting older now, Harper. Boys will notice you."

"He's not a boy, Gramma, he's a monster. He's one of them."

"They are keeping you and your family safe, love." There was that reminder again. That was everyone's argument. I didn't need to hear that; I needed to hear how she really felt.

"Gran..."

"That is exactly why I came here with your grandfather and your father so many years ago, Harper. I couldn't keep you all safe from the wild."

"Was there no other way?"

"Not then, no. If you only knew. There were so many deaders- I could have held them off, but not forever. Here, I knew all of my descendants will be safe, even after I'm gone." She seemed nonchalant about the subject, but the thought of her being gone tore me apart inside. She was all I felt like I had. My mother and father were into their chores and each other more than anything else. My brother's life's ambition was for Starsky to love him back and make him like her.

"Don't talk like that, now." I pleaded sadly.

"You have to accept that honey. When I go, I'm gone. I have to be burned like Grandpa, or I'll come back as a deader, and you don't want that. There will be no grave to visit." She was ripping out my heart.

"You'll still be here, in my mind and my heart. Always," I admitted.

"Don't worry about an old lady, love. Worry about that young man." She patted my arm with her tiny hand before going back to her knitting with a renewed vigor.

"That superior, you mean," I said darkly.

How could I ever forget her and put him in place of her? I didn't even like him.

"That superior is the best thing for you right now, I believe," She stated sternly.

What was she saying? Was her age getting to her brain? I started to worry for her.

"How could that thing be good for me?" I quizzed.

"I can feel it, love. He's good," She said.

"Is this before or after he wants to drain me?"

"He doesn't want that. He wants to be close to you, Harper. He's smitten by you."

"Will they turn me into one of them?" I asked horrified. That had been bothering me the most.

"No, I can assure you they will not," She promised, and in my heart, I knew she spoke the truth. "You listen to me, Harper, and you listen good. I don't want to talk too much, because there are ears everywhere. But you get close to him, love. You will need him."

"What do you mean, Gramma?" Could she have been any more cryptic? This was getting weird.

"Never you mind for now. Enjoy your birthday, love. Now, help your old grandmama to bed. I need a nap." She insisted.

I knew I would get no more out of her for the time being.

I helped her to her room, and went back to the family room to think about what she'd said. She wants me to get close to the superior. What purpose will that serve? If he's not going to have me changed, then what can one lonely superior do against a ton of others that would be, in any way, good for me? What was she not telling me?

•••

Some time later, my brother returned with a goofy, dazed look on his face. It was almost like he was a new deader, the way he was walking slow with that blank look. I hadn't seen a fresh deader in person, but I saw the process on the programs. They loved to show us the way they came back alive, how they reacted, and what they became so they could prove how safe they were keeping us.

"What's got you so stupefied?" I demanded.

"I got it. I'm finally in." He mumbled.

"No! They're not going to change you?" I was shocked. Never had I expected this. I knew my brother was attractive on a firsty level, but...well, he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. I never thought Starsky would actually notice him, let alone want to change him.

"Not yet, but maybe someday. They just gave me the lab chore. I'm starting in the morning before bleedings." He said proudly. I exhaled a relieved breath. It was just a product of my great fear that led me to think he was being promoted to a firsty potential.

"Thank goodness that's all."

"What? That's a big step," he argued.

"You're so gross sometimes," I grumbled. "How could you want to work around that disgusting place? You're going to help weigh us before they take our blood. So they can drink it later."

"I'll be doing more than weighing. I'll take your temperature, and- and all that other stuff," he said in a very dull way.

"So what happened to River?" River was the guy that always did the stuff before.

"He died." Skip showed no emotion.

He was already acting like a superior. I frowned at his negligence.

"What happened?"

River was healthy the last time I saw him. He was fairly young as well, maybe in his late thirties or early forties.

"I don't know, he just died. Okay?" Skip snapped.

"You know, acting like an inconsiderate jerk won't make Starsky notice you," I snapped right back.

He needed to get a clue. He was not a superior; no need to act like one.

"Shows how much you know," He scoffed. "She has noticed me."

"She still calls you one-five-three-one," I reminded him.

"Yeah, well, everyone isn't like your superior screw-ball, are they?" he spat.

"He's not mine," I mumbled, feeling a bit defeated.

I hated arguing with him, but I also hated when he acted like them. I just couldn't understand why he didn't see how wrong everything really was. The simple answer would be that he didn't know any better. He didn't know as much as I did, since I had stayed up all hours of the day talking with our grandma about the way things used to be as opposed to the way they are now. He didn't hear most of her stories about how much nicer things were before the plague hit and turned every new dead person into a walking monster, how the superiors used it to their advantage. He didn't understand they were using us. He just saw their power and beauty, so he wanted to be like them.

I was more hurt than angry. Unable to deal with him, I just left him on the couch to sulk in my bedroom.

I had an okay bed. It wasn't as nice as my parents' bed, or as big, but it was comfy enough, and had one of Gramma's hand knitted blankets on it. It was the same shade of green as my eyes; which also matched hers. Of everyone in our little family, I was the one that inherited her bright green eyes and thick red locks. Of course her hair was gray now, as mine would be one day, if I was lucky. Would I be lucky?

Grandma seemed to think so...as long as I stuck around Hector. Get close to him...you will need him. She'd told me. What does she know?