The wait for Mattie to return felt like an eternity to Nicholas, mostly because he was stuck without knowing what Mattie's intentions were. Nonetheless, he sat beside his little sister and gripped her small, frail hand in his. He didn't know how long it would be until she fully changed and rose from the dead. Right now, she was still breathing. Shuttering, shaking, ragged breaths, but still breaths. Nicholas had to remind himself not to grip her hand too tightly - it just might break.

When Mattie finally did return, the sun had fully set, leaving no inkling of light save for the last burning ember in the ash pile that used to be a person not long before. Nicholas' eyes had adjusted quite well and quick, but he still could not see what Mattie was holding in her hands. For a moment, it looked like bottles - pill bottles, maybe. This gave Nicholas a hope. Maybe she'd found fever-reducing medication. Antibiotics. Something. Anything.

"What do you have?" he asked quickly, voice all too enthused.

The excitement, the hope in Nick's voice made Mattie's spirit sink farther. She wondered how to explain to him without getting kicked out that she wanted to give his sister a halfway merciful death. Of course, she didn't even need to ponder a way to break the news without also breaking his heart–– that just wasn't possible. But it would be kinder than taking one of the guns he had around here and shooting Alissa like an ailing farm animal.

"Get out some water," she said softly. She took his hand and put one of the bottles in it, closing his fingers around it. "They'll... they'll make her go to sleep. It's the easiest way. It's–– the kindest way." She was glad it was dark. That'd make it harder to see his expression. But for goodness' sake! It was better than slitting her throat with that dirty knife, wasn't it? Even if something like that would come when she was knocked out. When she couldn't feel anything anymore.

She swallowed, but her throat was dry. "We can only do one thing for her. Make it a peaceful end."

"Go get some water," came Mattie's voice, softly. It was then that Nicholas understood what the pills were for, and even though Mattie couldn't see him, his expression darkened as his heart sunk into his stomach. She grabbed his hand gently, and put one of the bottles in it. Then she said, "They'll... they'll make her go to sleep. It's the easiest way. It's - the kindest way."

That was that. Nicholas knew it to be true. His sister wasn't going to make it no matter how much he wanted her to. There was no stopping it. There was no cure.

"We can only do one thing for her. Make it a peaceful end," Mattie said, and Nicholas found himself repeating these words over and over again in his mind. He still did not move or speak yet. He just sat with Mattie's hand cupping his around the pill bottle. Slowly, he moved his head to look down at the bottle. The seal had not even been broken. It was full.

He withdrew his hand. He moved over to where he remembered the backpacks being and shuffled inside of them blindly until his hand grasped an opened water bottle. It was some of the only pure water left, and yet he had to use it for...this. It felt as if he were in a trance - as if he were completely, existentially numb - as he moved back over to his sister. He sat the bottles aside long enough to wake her and help her sit up.

"What?" her voice was a faint, groggy whisper. As if the very walls of her throat were deserts.

For a moment, Nicholas couldn't even reply. He now held the pill bottle in the hand that wasn't supporting his sister. This was as close as he'd been to a...a zombie - even though she was not fully dead yet. As if it were possible, his heart sank lower. Then, his voice came out, tearful.

"I have some medicine," he said.

And he could have sworn that he saw a faint smile across Alissa's face. Before she could speak, Nicholas propped her against a shelf and emptied the bottle into his palm. Carefully, he helped her take as many pills that she could take comfortably at one time with the water. Then again. Then again. And again until she'd consumed the entire bottle that Mattie had given him.

"That should help," he said, very audibly sobbing. "It'll make you feel better."

As he helped Alissa lie back down, her eyes opened and stared up at him - and for a moment, he thought she'd already died. But then the smallest of smiles formed upon her lips and she managed to croak, "I'll be okay."

Mattie turned away, but did not leave. It was getting too dark anyway to see where to go. And there was nowhere to go anyway. Right now it felt like she'd be able to hear that sick little girl's voice from miles away, and she shuddered. She set the other bottle near Nick in case the first set didn't work. That was unlikely, of course. Prescription sleeping pills in addition to her tiny body? Her liver would be overwhelmed easily. She didn't want to think about it.

And then there was the question of the body. There was still the possibility that she'd get up and attack them, and it wasn't exactly hygienic to have a corpse laying around. They'd probably have to burn it.

Like his mother.

Mattie got up, wandered to the entrance and vomited outside, shivering.

For the next few minutes, Alissa breathed heavily, quickly, and raggedly. Then the slowing of her breaths, albeit still ragged, signaled that she'd fallen unconscious once again - but was still alive. Nicholas watched her with pain in his eyes, knowing that Mattie could not see them even if he wanted her to. It seemed his eyes never left his little sister, not even when Mattie left and he heard her vomiting some ways away from them. The noise concerned him - had she contracted something too? The paranoia was sinking into panic, because he would be alone if she had. He'd just assisted his little sister in dying, and now he had the worry that the only other kind soul in the world was going to die too. The thought made him want to curl into a ball and rot away with the rest of his family.

Then the convulsions that spread through Alissa's small, frail body brought him away from the thought. His breath caught in his throat upon a scream, a scream for her to wake up and throw the pills up. He remained frozen and quiet, watching as his sister seized and struggled to breathe - she was choking. The pills had already worked their way to her respiration, cutting off circulation and prohibiting her from breathing. His hands, though frozen by his side, yearned to reach out and shake her awake, force her to vomit. Was she conscious? Could she feel herself suffocating to death? Then, before he could rightly react, it was over. Her body was lifeless - and he didn't know how much time had passed. A few minutes? An hour? A few hours? Mattie hadn't returned, and it had taken Alissa at least half an hour to fall asleep.

Then just like that, she was gone.

Nicholas heard a sob break the silence, and became terrified before realizing it had come from him. His sister had assured him before her death that she'd be okay, not knowing that her big brother had just quickened her demise...but shortened her suffering. Had he protected her? It was his responsibility to protect her, to help her. He was the big brother. Had quickening her death helped her?

Not knowing what else to do, he rested on the fact that he had, in fact, helped her.

There wasn't even the slightest chance that she was going to survive the overdose anyway. And his emotions had officially, entirely numbed. He couldn't feel himself moving as he fished the matches out of his pocket. Nor as he drug his sister's lifeless body somewhere that he was sure away enough from where he was going to be sleeping. He didn't feel it while he draped her blanket over her limp form and set it ablaze. Nor as he walked back to his crude, makeshift pallet and sat himself down, ignoring as the atrocious smell of rotting, infected flesh filled his nostrils.

Then, for Nicholas, everything went black.

Mattie waterfalled a bit of water into her rancid-tasting mouth. She gargled and spat and then went back inside. She could hear labored breathing. She'd heard it before and she knew what it meant. She had no desire to see another child die, and by her own hands. And she certainly had no desire to deal with the grief of her brother. What if that grief turned to anger? What if he decided to blame her? Sure, he'd known what he was doing when he fed the girl the pills but grief rarely made sense. All those feelings boiling inside... they could become dangerous.

So when Alissa's quiet, weak breaths ceased, and when the orange firelight illuminated her peripheral vision, Mattie did not return to where she and Nick had been. No, it was too fresh for him. Seeing fire was too fresh for her. They were both hurting, and she was afraid that they would only hurt each other more. She wanted to be with him, of course, strangely. She wanted to give him every comforting word she could muster (that probably came to around two).

But she didn't.

She simply slunk into the darkness, as far back in the Wal-Mart as she could. She was somewhere in the freezer section when she decided that she was out of Nick's earshot. About an hour was spent crying. Another half hour was spent trying to sleep. Fifteen minutes went by where she talked to herself. And finally she managed to fall asleep.

When Nicholas awoke, he was only slightly aware of the fact that he was on the floor. What he was very certainly aware of was that every inch of him ached and his eyelids were almost swollen shut from previous crying that he didn't even know he'd done. The previous day was a blur as if he'd been drunk the entire time, even though he'd only really been drunk once or twice before the infection. The very few rays of sunlight that broke through, coming in past the glass windows and opened, previously-automatic door of the Walmart burned the parts of his eyes that were open. Very slowly, and very carefully, he pushed himself up off the floor and looked around.

A fire was still blazing nearby, signaling that Nicholas hadn't spaced Alissa's body far enough from some obviously flammable objects that were now unrecognizable. The flames weren't dangerous and were in fact dying, and as Nicholas finally recalled everything that happened, the only thing that was on his mind was that he wished the flames had engulfed him while he slept.

Then, the second thing he realized was that Mattie still had not returned. He looked around groggily, confused, disoriented. It was early morning - it couldn't have been any later than eight o'clock, but it was plenty late enough for her to have made her way out on her own.

His voice came out hoarse and cracked from thirst, crying, and grogginess. "Mattie?" he called out, as loud as he possibly could - which wasn't very.

It was still dark where Mattie slept, the rows of freezers blocking out what little sunlight managed to trickle inside. Still, through a combination of the increased light, the discomfort of the hard tiled floor, and the sound of her name being called, she cracked one surly eye open and propped herself on her elbow. She wasn't awake enough to really tell if Nick's voice had been real, or if she'd only dreamed it, but it was better safe than sorry, she supposed. Plus, her spine really needed a change of position, as she was now realizing.

Following the direction of where she'd thought she'd heard the voice, Mattie approached Nick and the remnants of a fire that appeared to have spread before giving up.

Oh, he looked like hell. It wasn't to say he wasn't handsome, but damn did he look like he'd taken a beating from life. And he had, of course, so his state shouldn't have shocked or concerned her. But it did both. The sadness was almost tangible. It was almost too much to look at.

"Hey, take a seat, okay?" she said. "I've got some hardtack. It's not exactly a nice breakfast, but at least it's something right?"

Take a seat.

That was what Nicholas focused on - taking a seat. When he sat, he sat awkwardly. As if moving was something foreign and new to him. In such a short time, he'd lost...everything. But, he tried to remind himself, so had Mattie. And he shouldn't be sulking around like a wuss. They couldn't afford it. He felt obsessively protective over Mattie now, as if he had to keep her alive to redeem himself. When she offered the hardtack to him, he took it and chewed mechanically.

"Thank you," he managed to say. The hardtack wasn't much different from the Saltines stored somewhere in one of the bags that he kept. He looked around and realized they were down to four bottles of clean water unless Mattie had some. Then he spotted the rifle and wondered how much ammo it had left. How many times had Alissa fired it? Once or twice? Or even three times? He couldn't remember.

"What do we do now?" he asked. It was early enough to try to head for the stores that they'd tried yesterday, but it would be best to take all of their equipment and create a new camp somewhere.

She ate in, for the most part, silence, trying to think over the situation. It probably wasn't safe or much worth staying here, but out there they'd both be fair game. Then again... they were already fair game. It just felt a little safer being holed up someplace with walls. One thing was certain, though: they weren't going to survive on nothing but hardtack.

Mattie was not going to starve to death in a Wal-Mart.

"We'll keep moving," she said slowly, unsure. "Find somewhere with food and water, stay for awhile, then move on. That's all I can think of. You got anything?" She finished her piece of hardtack with a grimace.

While the piece of hardtack that Nicholas nibbled on wasn't very much, he didn't finish it. His stomach was either turning knots because of what had happened in the last 24 hours, because of his lack of food, or both, but whichever it was - he couldn't eat anything else. Especially nothing that just tasted so stale, without flavor. He needed real food. He wanted real food.

"Right," he said, in response to Mattie's suggestion. There wasn't much else that they could really do at this point. They could search for the refuge, but isn't that what he'd been doing anyway? A sigh escaped him and he said, "We'll head south. Further into the country. We might find the refuge, and that's where I'd build one. Away from people."

She nodded and stood up. She was ready to get moving–– not like they had anything else to do. Or anyone else to take care of. Now it was just the two of them, relatively fit young adults. No ties to families, no sentimental belongings that she knew about, and hopefully no weird complicated feelings to get in the way (that was probably too much to ask, as there was already something like fierce urges to protect Nick that Mattie couldn't explain).

Not that it mattered. She couldn't muster up the imagination to foresee anything in their future other than bleakness: fighting the undead, burning through limited supplies to prevent becoming infected, constantly roaming in search of shelter and food and water that wasn't tainted.

Just thinking of it made Mattie tired, and they hadn't even gotten started yet.

"Ready to go?"

"I guess," was the reply that Nicholas could muster, spoken through half-opened lips that didn't want to work.

With a heavy, almost aggravated sigh, he gathered up all of his supplies. This involved stuffing into a bag: the blanket he had left, a spare one, and the water bottles. What little of the bread he'd eaten seemed to weigh heavily on his stomach, making him sick. Very sick. For a moment, he stopped. He worried that maybe he'd contracted something. But he shook his head. There was no way.

He was always worried he'd contracted something. Especially now.

"Yeah, let's go," he said. He started toward the exit in front of Mattie, but made sure to glance behind him to know she was following.

She was following, although she sensed at the moment that neither of them were, in fact, ready to go. Of course, they had no choice in the matter. She knew that and so did he. It was leave, or die.

It was going to be a long walk.

Mattie could already see the undead, shambling and meandering in the distance. If they caught their scents, or heard them––however the bastards caught wind of living presence–– it would be just another mess. She took a deep, quiet breath and focused on the path ahead of them. If they were going to do this, it would be one step at a time.