Nicholas stood in the front doorway, halfway in the house and halfway on the porch, while Mattie paraded up the stairs. He figured there would be no use in following her since she was going to change clothing, and he knew it would be inappropriate for him to watch her. He tapped his foot on the wood of the entry hallway and waited. She was taking such a long time, he started to worry about her on top of his anxiety of being discovered by the undead.

He heard her yell something upstairs, but he hesitated to run up there because her voice didn't sound panicked and he hadn't heard any other commotion. As he contemplated running to her potential rescue, he saw her coming down the stairs. Relief lightened his head in a good way, and he was about to say something to her when she turned and went into another room as if she hadn't even seen him. He grumbled underneath his breath.

Then, she finally came to face him again. "Untouched?" he asked incredulously. "Really? I've been in almost every unlocked house on this street." He pushed past her and started looking in rooms. Empty rooms. Definitely empty rooms. In fact, two of the rooms didn't even have furniture.

After semi-thoroughly checking the entire first floor, Nicholas dubiously marched up the stairs and found himself in a short, narrow hallway. He picked the first room to his right, which seemed to be the master bedroom. He guessed this was where Mattie found her clothing, and left it. Upon entering the room across the hallway, the first thing he saw was a crib. He sighed. He already knew what was going to happen next.

So, when he approached the crib, what did he find? A sleeping baby, of course. Or maybe it was dead. Sick? Infected. He didn't know. He stared at it as if it had just insulted his entire family. "Mattie," he yelled, "Did'ja check any other rooms? Come up here, please."

Big blue eyes opened up and stared at him, and then the infant began to wail.

"No, I didn't," she called, and she followed him slowly up the stairs, curious as to what he might have found. Shortly after she'd started tailing Nicholas, the most God-awful voice assaulted her eardrums and made Mattie cringe. She knew that sound from underpaid babysitting jobs; a feeling of dread settled over her as she entered the room and her eyes fell upon the crib. Oh, no. What were they supposed to do with a baby?

Mattie was not good at caring for other human beings. Therapists had told her that the lack of human interaction and limited affection in her early life had damaged that bit of her brain or something like that, but she knew that it would be unforgivable to leave the poor thing to starve here. Cautiously, she reached into the crib and prodded at the infant to check for anything like bites. She turned her head and looked at Nicholas with round eyes.

Her voice was soft at this point. "Maybe we should look for diapers and baby food." She chewed her lip. This was a challenge she certainly hadn't seen coming.

The baby couldn't have been more than a few months old, Nicholas thought. It looked almost like his sister did when she was that young. It had virtually no hair, and was clad solely in a diaper, left without blankets in the cold house. He remembered going into Alisa's room when she was so small, during the winter, and tucking blankets tightly around her so that her cries would hush and not wake his parents.

"It's just..." he hesitated, not wanting to voice the thought. "It's so...healthy. This house wasn't open a couple days ago. Where did its parents go...?"

He looked around for a sign. Any sign. A note, maybe? But nothing. Maybe the zombies had gotten its parents. But why didn't they get the child? It was so helpless, so vulnerable...

Nicholas reached into the crib and carefully pulled the baby into his arms, cradling it against his chest. He looked around for a blanket, or maybe some clothes. The kid was probably freezing and hungry. He slowly walked over to a dresser by the window, effortlessly and lightly bouncing the baby as he did. He was relieved to find plenty of clothes that would no doubt fit. He pulled out a blue and white striped onesie with long sleeves.

After he dressed the child, he sat on the floor and laid it in his lap, gesturing at Mattie. "Give me the back with the blankets." When she did, he wrapped the blankets around the baby. "I think it's a boy because of the clothing they've got for it, but I can't be sure. Here, hold him," he said, giving him to Mattie.

He went back across the hallway and started tearing the master bedroom apart. He knew they had to have some sort of baby album. Birth certificate. Hospital band. Something.

Then, he found it. The birth certificate. Oddly enough, the only thing he could make out was the name. He walked over to the next room and told Mattie, "It's a boy. His name is Cole S-...Sh-...Suh- what does this say?" he asked, handing the slip of paper to her.

Before Mattie could say anything, there was a baby in her arms. Perhaps surprisingly, though, she didn't complain, just held it and crooned softly, "Aren't you a little cutie?" while making the blankets nice and snug for him. She smiled and cradled him, calming him with a slow and gentle sweeping motion in her arms until Nicholas came back, at which point Mattie stopped immediately so that he wouldn't comment.

When he handed her the birth certificate, she didn't snatch it as she usually did with things, but took it lightly like the paper was an egg and might break if she gripped too hard. "Shraiman?" she said. "Cole Shraiman." She was still at a loss. "I hope he has formula, or something." If there was a thing Mattie wasn't willing to do, it was to rescue a baby from an empty house only to watch it starve on the journey.

Without another word, she gave the slip of paper back and carried little Cole down the stairs and went into the kitchen. "Don't you worry, little guy, you'll have something to eat soon," she said, rummaging with one hand as she did so, careful to hold the infant. She started to whistle softly as she did so.

Confused but not too surprised by Mattie's sudden change of character, Nicholas followed her to see what she could find. Electricity had been a thing of the past for a while now, so he hesitated to check the fridge, but did so anyway. Obviously, there was nothing of use in there. Instead, he looked through the cabinets above the counters and eventually found empty baby bottles.

"Here," he said, putting them on the counter in front of Mattie. "Found anything else?"

In response, Mattie held up a half-empty jar of baby food that miraculously hadn't expired yet. She slid it into one of the backpacks, then grabbed the bottles and did the same with them, and said, "We'd best be on the move again. I don't want to be stuck in here with a baby should they track us down. Did you pick up diapers? Those would be...an asset." She inwardly shuddered with the knowledge that sooner or later she would have to change this kid's diaper.

"Diapers," Nicholas sighed. "Right."

He trekked back up the stairs and into Cole's bedroom. Would they be in here or in the bathroom? He was clueless. Still, he searched around, opening drawers. He decided to stuff some of the clothes into his backpack. He looked in the crib and grabbed a stuffed monkey and blue pacifier. Just in case. He left the bedroom and looked for a bathroom, and upon finding one he started searching its cabinets. Before long, he found an unopened pack of diapers, and for some reason he felt very lucky.

"I found them," he told Mattie when he went back down the stairs. "I got his pacifier and some clothes and, uh, a stuff monkey for him." He looked at her and reached out for Cole. "Lemme hold him."

Mattie held out the baby carefully and let Nicholas hold Cole. In exchange, she crammed the pacifier, the clothes, the monkey and the diapers into the backpack and headed for the front door. She peeked out of the window in case any of the infected were in a position to ambush them. She saw none, but they could be absolutely anywhere. Waiting and lusting for spilled blood. Her eyes flickered toward Nicholas, and she felt a sudden wave of gladness that he had found her. Quickly she suppressed it.

"We'll take turns holding him," she said, turning the knob. "That way we'll give each other rests from it." She opened the door and stuck her head out, again to make sure that no living dead were approaching, and stepped outside. Then she changed her mind, hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a sharp knife, and headed back toward the door. She needed something now that she had lost her crowbar.

Nicholas handled Cole carefully, making sure to support his head at all times. He held him close to his chest, and started to follow Mattie out the door. He examined the kitchen knife she was holding, considering its size, which was quite small compared to a weapon they might need if they came across a living dead. Before he forgot, Nicholas walked back into the house to grab the bag he'd left on the floor. While keeping a firm hold on Cole, he struggled to put the backpack on his back, along with the other one he had. He ended up having to gently place the baby on the floor, put the second backpack on top of the first one, and then pick him back up.

"Mattie," he said, catching back up to her. "You can take a weapon out of the bag. I won't mind."

The only thing he didn't really want her to carry in her hands was his rifle. It wasn't even that he was particular about his rifle, because, as previously mentioned, Nicholas had never really been the type of person who went crazy about guns. His father had been that type of person, but Nicholas just wasn't. The reason why he didn't want her to handle his rifle is because...well, he wasn't too sure about her. He'd seen that she was quite impulsive, and didn't seem very rational when angered. This combination could result in a quick death for him, and that was the very opposite of what he was trying to get.

"Just-" he paused, unsure if he should voice his concern about her keeping away from the gun. "Just...Just..." he got stuck, repeating the word over and over again until he growled in frustration and said, "Just nevermind."

Cole became uneasy, wriggling around in his arms. Maybe it was too warm in his bundle of blankets, Nicholas wondered. He didn't want to uncover him because it was quite chilly out in the open air. He bounced him as they walked.

"We're going to have to find some milk or something," he said softly. "That baby food won't last and he can't eat any of what I packed. I wasn't exactly prepared for this..."

Mattie didn't really understand Nicholas' tone when he tried to amend his statement about the weapons. His words tripped over themselves and he ended up finishing with a frustrated-sounding "never mind", which drove the point home that he didn't trust her. She couldn't exactly blame him, though her expression changed from puzzled to hurt, for the most fleeting of moments, and then became deadpan. So, misunderstanding him, she said, "I'm fine with the knife, but thank you."

She leaned over and peered with concern at Cole, then straightened herself up as they walked. The cogs of her mind were going, but she couldn't think of any great ideas. All she could think of, she said aloud. "There's some hippie just outside town who owns--or, owned--goats. Sold their milk and cheese. Maybe they're still there." She hoped they were, because the only other option that came to mind was feeding the baby chewed-up food, the idea of which made her wrinkle her nose.

"No one's prepared to suddenly find a baby," she added quietly. "They weren't prepared for me, after all," she continued in a joking tone.

Nicholas was quiet. It was only a little past noon, and he had already been through so much in this one day than he'd been through since the first cough. He could recall the person that Mattie was talking about. He tried to remember if it was he who his father had bought the "legendary" goat cheese from. He felt his heart ache as he smiled at the thought of when his father came home with it, yelling, "I got goat cheese!" and sticking it in Alisa's face before saying, "It comes from goats!"

He laughed a little, but quickly passed it off as a cough. There were unwelcome tears in his eyes and a lump of sadness in his throat. He held Cole even more closer to himself, and momentarily put his face against the blankets, just long enough to soak up any tears that wanted to come out.

They came upon the house that Mattie spoke of, which obviously was the house because one lone goat was standing at the edge of the fence, staring at them. Its piercing eyes made Nicholas uneasy. He knew animals could get infected, or at least, that's what he assumed. However, he had yet to see an infected animal. He guessed most of them died from the disease rather than suffered from it.

Cautiously, protectively cradling Cole, Nicholas approached the door and knocked on it. He could hear movement inside of the house, but nobody came to answer. He looked back at Mattie and gave Cole to her. "Here," he said. "Stay here, I hear something inside."

Nicholas reached down and grabbed his rifle out of the backpack. He tried the doorknob, only to find it locked, and he felt like his morals were being questioned: did he break down the door of a possibly innocent person's only shelter? If so, it would have been for a good cause: to keep the baby fed.

Deep breath. Don't think twice. He kicked it once, twice, and the third time it finally broke in. Cole was crying now, probably frightened by the noise. He hadn't thought of that.

He was shaking. It wasn't like he hadn't avoided and encountered the undead before, but each time, he never knew if he was going to live. His steps were slow, and his breathing uneven. The movement was coming from what looked like a kitchen, from what Nicholas could see from the doorway. Again, slowly, he made his way to that doorway. He readied his rifle, and quickly stepped into the room only to find that the noise had been coming from a rat eating out of a tin food bowl, which quickly scurried away once Nicholas made himself present.

And then something threw itself onto his back.

Screaming, probably like a little girl, and flailing to turn around, Nicholas shoved the zombie with long dreads off of him. As quickly as Nicholas had shoved it off, it came back at him, not only scratching his arm with its inhumanly long and sharp..."claws," but also biting his bicep, crunching down on the flesh with as much strength as the thing's jaw could give.

"Oh, god! Oh, SHIT," he yelled, kicking it and then falling on his ass. He aimed the rifle and pulled the trigger - but it only clicked.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," he whispered hoarsely, again trying to aim and fire at the zombie, but failing. He scrambled backward, still on the floor, and brought himself to his feet. He took the front of the rifle and rammed the zombie in the chest with it, making it stumble backward. It was relentless. It charged at him again, putting its filthy hands around his neck. Stunned, he dropped the rifle and started flailing, being lifted up off of the ground. He kicked his legs and threw punches at the zombie's face, to no avail. It stared at him - flesh a rotting gray color, eyes rolled into the back of its head. Its teeth were as rotten as its flesh, some had even fallen out.

Nicholas' vision became cloudy and he started to panic, which didn't help his breathing situation. Before long, his body relaxed and after a few moments, the monster dropped him on the ground.

Mattie had noticed that Nicholas' eyes had gone shiny with tears, and she found herself wishing that she hadn't mentioned the hippie who kept goats. She had hoped that it would lighten the mood a little, but instead it just seemed to have dug memories out of him. Frowning, she looked ahead and pretended not to have noticed his emotional distress. It would only make things tense to try and get something out of him, and she also figured that she'd fall quickly out of his favor if she made him cry.

When he told her to stay there, she started, "Maybe you shouldn't..." but she faltered, as he'd already started toward the house. Every part of her being screamed at her that this was just wrong and disastrous... She held Cole, her arms tightening around him as Nicholas kicked the door in, and tried to swallow down the dread that was coming up. He knows what he's doing, she told herself, but then the other half of herself replied: Yeah, and he led you straight into a warehouse with two infected.

When Mattie heard him screaming, it only confirmed her fears. God damn it, she thought bitterly, she'd only wanted to come so they could milk the goat, maybe take it with them. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't just charge in and play the hero like she'd done to an extent in the warehouse. Not with a baby clutched in her arms. She also didn't want to leave Cole out here in the chilly air, with only a goat for company. Her breath caught in her throat; what to do? He could already be dead, she thought with horror as the faint sound of a yelled swear filtered out of the doorway.

Assume he's dead, said the practical side of her. If he isn't yet, he will be soon. Get going. Farther into the country. Find a nice farmhouse, clear it out and make it home. But she didn't want to leave him behind, after he'd been kind enough to give her supplies.

Tentatively, she called, "Nicholas? Can you hear me?" while Cole wailed softly. A chill went down her spine. I'm on my own again, aren't I? She looked from the goat to the broken-down front door and started to back away. On my own with a baby. I've never even--! I didn't ask for this!

Nicholas stared at the zombie through cracked eyelids - it must have really thought he was dead, because it was now looking around the kitchen. When it started for the door, and down the hallway toward where Mattie and Cole were, Nicholas forced himself to his knees. He could barely breathe, his arm was on fire, and he could still feel the thing's grip around his throat. Still, he wasn't about to let it get to Mattie or the baby. He'd have to be fully dead to let that happen.

Nearly crawling his way toward the zombie, which didn't seem to be in any hurry, Nicholas wrapped his arms around its legs and pulled, forcing it to fall on its face. Thinking as fast as he could with his cloudy vision, he grabbed a ceramic vase off of a nearby end table and smashed it against the thing's head until the vase broke. It seemed to have stalled it.

"Mattie," he called out the front door, choking on his own words. He didn't know what to say after that. He didn't want to tell her to run because he couldn't be left alone. He just wanted her to know he was still alive.

"Machete," he yelled, "Hurry!"

When Mattie grabbed the machete out of the weapon bag and threw it toward him, he reached forward enough to grab its handle. Coming back up on his knees, he lifted it above his head and brought it down on the rotting zombie's neck, over and over, chopping away as if it were a tree until the head was completely severed. Then, he grabbed its filthy dreads and flung the head across the room.

"Don't you worry, Cole. I'll be back in no time," Mattie assured the baby without much conviction after putting him down and setting the backpacks on either side of him, partially to keep him hidden and partially to keep any windchill from seeping through his blankets and clothes. This seemed to distress him more, but now that she knew Nicholas was still alive, there had been a swell of determination to keep him that way and a squirt of adrenaline that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle more than they already had.

She ripped a fence-post out of the ground and thundered into the dim room, slamming the heavy slat of wood into the ribcage of the headless ex-pacifist and knocking him through a window so dirty that light had a hard time getting through. She panted and twitched. Everything in her was alive and twitching and itching to fight.

Mattie turned and her eyes fell on the horrible red mark on Nicholas' arm. Her eyes widened, and she whispered to herself, "Holy hepatitis-flavored jelly donut," while raising the fence-post defensively in front of her. She didn't know how long the infection took to set in, but one thing was sure, and it was that she didn't want to be near it. She took one step back, two, three, while staring at Nicholas as if he were a mother grizzly bear and would attack her any moment. She choked as if the disease had suddenly taken on a horrible smell, and nearly tripped as she backed swiftly out of the house.

Take the baby and get away.

"Mattie, don't go!" he yelled, then cried out in pain from the sting in his arm. "Stop, please!"

He was desperate. He didn't know what else to do. So, he took the machete in his hand and started to saw away at his arm at the shoulder, moaning and crying from the pain that didn't seem much worse than the sting already in his arm.

"Don't take Cole," he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Please."

Before long, his arm was as severed as the zombie's head in front of him, continuously pouring blood onto the floor and onto his clothes. He shrugged off the bag on his back., reaching into it with his remaining hand. Luckily, there was the last blanket. He wrapped what he could tightly around the spot where his other arm should have been, hands shaking so bad that he struggled with putting it on.

"Mattie," he called out. "Don't leave me."

---

Jacob's main concern was to find some booze. If he had to live through this terrible new life he was being forced to live, he at least wanted to live as much of it as he could drunk. He was shocked at the amount of people along this street who didn't seem to own any type of alcohol at all, not even a simple can of beer. It frustrated him. It was as if the world was condemning his drinking habit. To hell with that, he thought. There was alcoholics much worse off than he was.

On the opposite end of the street, the end he hadn't been down, there was a lot of open space. That's mainly why he hadn't been that way. Not only was he kind of vulnerable to the infected that way, but there were hardly any houses worth looking at. He'd noticed a kid walking down the street for a couple of days, going into houses. It was kind of unexpected when the kid came to his door, tried it and found it locked, that he turned away and left. If it had been Jake, he would have kicked down the door and looted what he could have.

Then again, it was a good thing that the kid hadn't done that. For his sake, not Jacob's. He wasn't the type of person who would kill someone who was alive, but if he had to, he would. He was trying to survive through this mess just like everyone else was.

He'd watched that same kid walk past his house, this time accompanied by a girl. He was carrying a bundle of blankets that looked like a baby, and he made the connection in his head that these two must have been together and that was their kid.

'Poor baby,' he thought.

It wasn't long after the couple had passed that Jacob decided he'd go after them. While he preferred to be alone during a time like this, mainly because he didn't trust anyone not to abandon him or use him as a human shield, he knew that he would need help eventually. Or, you know, maybe. He'd been a roofer most of his life, and that taught him how to get stuff done and fix things by himself. However, a little company never hurt. It'd been a while since he'd had company.

He saw the girl backing out of a house a little down the street, and right away he sensed danger because the boy was nowhere in sight, nor was the child. While he had been walking at a quick pace, he slowed and almost came to a stop just a few yards away from her.

"Hey!" he yelled, "Everything alright?"

Mattie gave a violent jump and dropped the fence post, taking in a sharp breath as she turned around. Nicholas' voice was still ringing in her ears. Don't leave me. But she had to. She couldn't risk getting sick. Couldn't risk either of them getting little Cole sick. Her heart thumped weirdly and for several heartbeats all she could do was stare at the man who was now in front of her. Her mind was whirling too quickly for any decisions to be made. All she could think was: He was bitten. I'm alone with a baby. Stranger danger. I'm dead.

Her head cleared enough to compel Mattie to pick the fence-post back up. She was stuck between Nicholas and the house that stank with coppery blood she hadn't smelled before, and a man she'd never met. An even more complete stranger than Nicholas was. Her chest heaved. She'd been lucky enough, she realized, that Nicholas (to her knowledge) hadn't been using her, and wasn't (to her knowledge) a murderer, rapist, cannibal, or anything else horrible. Encountering another man in a world like this was asking for trouble.

"Yes, everything's fine," she lied, her shaking voice betraying the real nature of the situation. Thud, thud, went her heart. Her eyes flitted to the backpacks that Cole lay between. Oh, God. Everything was crashing down on her at the worst possible time. She should have stayed in that damn apartment and let the zombies eat her. She glanced back at the bloody-smelling house and felt tears springing to her eyes. "Sir? There's...a problem..." She wiped the tears off.

"My friend's in there. He's been bitten." Don't break down yet, Matts. Not yet. Not in front of this guy.

"Mattie? Who are you talking to?" Nicholas called out weakly. His whole body was shaking. Had the infection already spread to other parts of him? He hoped not, because if so then losing his arm and causing himself even more pain was for naught. All he wanted was to survive, but for what? Now, for Mattie and Cole, maybe. But he'd only met both of them today. His sister was dead. His father was dead. His mother was dead. His friends were probably dead, too. He went ahead and added all of them to the list in his head.

He could lay here and die, then it would be all over. Mattie wouldn't miss him, so there was no one else to live for. His heart was aching, but he didn't know why. Was it from something serious or was it his stupid emotions getting the best of him again? Everyone always told him he acted just like a girl.

"I'm sorry, Mattie," he said, though unsure if she could even hear him.

---

When the girl told Jacob that everything was fine, he knew it was bullshit. The girl was breathing so heavily that he was afraid at any inhale she'd explode. He put his hands up, showing her that he wasn't holding a weapon, though he did have a revolver strapped to his side. "I'm not here to hurt you, okay? Don't look so scared."

Then, she spoke of her friend. That he'd been bitten. Jacob assumed it was the boy he'd seen walking with her about an hour ago. The sun was getting low, which was dangerous. The undead came out at night.

"Alright," he said.

He moved forward slowly, hands still up because this girl seemed ready to attack at any moment. When he got closer to her, he put them down and carefully said, "My name is Jacob Stride." He nodded once at her, and retrieved his revolver from its holder.

At first, he approached the door as slowly as he'd approached the girl. He peeked in the doorway and was met with a very bloody sight. The boy he'd seen earlier was leaned against a wall with a bloody blanket wrapped tight around a nub where his arm should have been. Jacob internally winced at the thought of what might have happened here. There was a decapitated body lying spread-eagle on the floor.

"You alright there, bud?" Jacob asked, not referring so much to his arm as much as whether or not he could reply coherently, which might determine whether or not he was infected.

"P-Peachy," the boy replied sarcastically, looking up at him with dull eyes. He was holding the blankets against the...nub.

"How do you feel?" Jacob inched closer to the boy and then crouched down beside him, carefully moving his hand away from the blankets, then unraveling them. The good news was that the rest of him probably wasn't infected. The bad news was that he was lacking an arm. Jacob had seen infected wounds, and they normally gushed green pus. His arm wasn't. He looked at the severed arm beside him, which had already started to shrivel up.

"Like I'm going to die," the boy wailed.

"Just stay calm, take deep breaths. Your girl's worried about you out there."

"She's n-not my girl..."

"Oh. Sorry," Jacob looked at him and said, "My name's Jacob. You can call me Jake."

"N-Nicholas."

Reaching into one of the pockets on his cargo shorts, Jacob retrieved a small, clear plastic bag with a roll of gauze in it. He tore the bag open with his teeth and pulled out the gauze, setting his revolver on the floor beside him. With careful, but quick movements, he wrapped Nicholas' arm with the gauze.

"Can you stand up? Come on," he said, putting his revolver back in its place and rising to his feet. He grabbed Nicholas' hand and pulled him up. Nicholas swayed, humiliatingly leaning on Jacob.

"It's alright," Jacob said. "Don't worry 'bout it. I'm here to help you."

He put an arm around Nicholas and started to lead him out of the house, over to the girl.

Mattie scooped Cole into her arms and followed the man who'd introduced himself as Jacob Stride. She wanted to say, "Don't go in there! Are you crazy?" but no words come out. Anyway, what should she have expected him to do? Biting her lip and clutching the baby close, she lingered at the doorway and peered inside at...

Oh, Christ. Her arms tightened involuntarily around Cole, and she turned him so that he faced her chest and not the gory sight ahead. Her mind raced as fast as her heart. I could have gone in with him. I could have prevented this. Now he's lost a whole arm because of me. She caught Jacob referring to her as Nicholas' girlfriend, but the words didn't click until a minute later. She never did respond to that.

She stood aside to let them through the door. Don't cry, god damn it. Don't cry. She'd seen people OD on heroin. This, she told herself, was no different. But it felt different. It felt so different.

She extracted a water bottle from one of the packs. Holding Cole in one arm, she put the water bottle to Nicholas' lips and tilted it so just a tiny bit would go in and not choke him. It wasn't much. We'll find shelter and then I'll do more. Mattie looked gratefully up to Jacob. "Thanks," she whispered.

Jacob held Nicholas up firmly as he swayed. There was no doubt that he'd already lost too much blood, along with the fact that he lost a whole arm. This boy was not in a good state at all, mentally or physically. If he survived the blood loss, then he would live normally, but without an arm. He wasn't infected anymore, thanks to his sacrifice. Jacob watched Mattie help Nicholas drink from the bottle of water, and the kid cooperated pretty well. Nicholas' eyes were drooping, though. That wasn't a good sign.

"Hey, kid," Jacob shook him a bit, still holding him up. "I need you to stay awake for me, alright?"

Nicholas muttered under his breath incoherently, turning his head away from the water bottle this time. Jacob examined his face, noticing it had gone very pale, though that was understandable. He was shaking.

"You cold?" Jacob asked, hesitantly shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders and wrapping it around Nicholas. That was his favorite and only jacket, and now he'd gone and given it to this kid, covered in blood. Now, the jacket was soiled and Nicholas might die. What a waste. "I'm gonna carry you, alright? Don't freak out."

One arm around his shoulders, Jacob put his other arm behind Nicholas' knees and lifted him into his arms as if he were a baby. It was probably a ridiculous and grave sight, all at the same time - one man carrying another who'd lost an arm. Turning to the girl, Jacob said, "I've got a place right down here. See that house? It's mine. Come on, I've got plenty of food and I've got a fire going, so it's warm. By the way, I never got your name..."

---

At first, Nicholas was grateful for the water. His mouth had gone very dry inexplicably, so it was a relief when Mattie put the bottle to his lips. His head felt heavy, along with his eyelids, and he let them close a couple of times. Then, the man helping him told him to stay awake.

"I can't, it's too hard," he had muttered, but he didn't know if the man heard him. Mattie had put the water bottle to his lips again, and he turned his head away, starting to feel choked.

When the man picked him up to carry him, it surprised him. Obviously, Nicholas had never been carried before. At least, not since he was a toddler. It was a relief to be off of his feet, though, and he let his eyes close again. The man was talking to Mattie, and the words didn't register in Nicholas' ears. He started coughing.

"Mattie," she said, her voice taut with anxiety. It loosened a little, but still sounded somewhat far off, when she added, "Pleasure to meet you. But I wish the circumstances weren't so awful." Seeing the way that he treated Nicholas made her feel a little better; someone who wanted them dead wouldn't be so kind, right? But her history made her wary. She shook her head slightly and told herself they had no choice. Nicholas had a better chance of survival in a warm house, perhaps with more medical supplies, and when she thought of it, so did Cole.

Her mind wandered as they neared the house. She thought of her brothers, mainly the one who'd died. The younger one. The one she'd sworn to keep safe. Considering that the apocalypse had happened, she reflected on the fact that the middle child was almost certainly dead. Mattie had failed them both. Seeing Nicholas covered in blood and dangerously pale made her think of that late evening, when she'd sat in the ICU and held Aaron's hand, and then his vitals had swan dived and a swarm of nurses and doctors shooed her out of the room so that they could try to save him. Needless to say, it hadn't worked.

But Nicholas won't die. He took the effort of sawing his own arm off, to survive.

She wasn't entirely sure.

When they got close to Jacob's house, she trotted ahead to hold open the door so that he wouldn't have to put Nicholas down; with his blood loss she didn't want him standing if he didn't need to. She decided to stay with Nicholas, to just sit beside him, because it was her opinion that should he die, it was always better to die with someone who cared about you there. Although his entire family was gone, but that just helped her case. She was the closest thing.