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foreveralwaysanauthor · 2 years

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Through The Valley (Epilogue)

September 5, 2022

As long as we don't die, this is going to be one hell of a story.

When I was six, my mother moved up to Canada to help my grandparents after my grandfather had knee surgery. Because Bentley was in pre-school and Miles and I were in full-time school at the time, our parents decided that our dad would keep us in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina while she was gone and, when the school year ended, we’d follow our mom up to Beaumont. However, a news report of an infectious disease spreading like wildfire came not long after Mom left and we never got the chance to move.

Myrtle Beach was a shitshow for a while when the infected people showed up, but on the first day, our neighbor - Mr. Foster - invited as many people into his basement as he could - the four of us included. On our way into the basement, I was grabbed by what had once been the resident cat lady of our neighborhood, Mrs. Bartlet. She had been turned into what would later be classified as a runner and had tried to take a bite out of my leg, but Miles reached around her neck from behind and pulled her off of me. Our dad took over after practically throwing Bentley into the basement hatch, telling me and Miles to look away and cover our ears. After a loud shot rang through the area, he pulled us into the basement and slammed the hatch shut before helping our neighbor barricade the exits.

A day or two into our stay, a yell from Miles woke me up and our dad came running over to see what was wrong. Miles’ wrist was bleeding from what looked like teeth marks and he claimed that I had bitten him in my sleep. Even though there was blood on my face, I didn’t taste any. I apologized to Miles a bunch for a while after that, but each time I did, he’d tell me I had no reason to apologize. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now that I’m older, the dots are a lot easier to connect than they were back then.

Around my eighth birthday, Canada shut its borders and cut almost all communication with the outside world. The morning the shutdown was announced, our mom called us and talked to us for three hours before the phone line disconnected. Our last words to her were “I love you” which was all that mattered.

When I was eleven and he was nine, Bentley and I broke into what was left of the high school, taking whatever books and supplies we could. While we were inside, a never-ending thunderstorm hit the area and I became practically useless. I never could stand loud noises, but the sound of thunder was probably the worst thing for me to deal with. Well, outside of gunfire, that is. That day, Bentley had to drag me into the music room and lock the door, the soundproofing keeping me from hearing anything. What felt like forever went by with just Bentley and I sitting together before the door to the room opened, revealing Miles and our dad. Dad wasn’t so happy with us running off, but he seemed more concerned with how we were doing. It was a nice break from his usual, drill sergeant behavior. He loved us and worried about us despite us doing stupid stuff; that was one of the things that made him a great dad.

I was thirteen when our dad decided to take us to our Uncle Tommy’s house. Uncle Tommy was a mountain of a man and looked like he could push a tank with only one finger, but he had a heart of gold and spent as much time with us as possible. He was twelve when Miles was born and was more like an older brother to the three of us than anything. During our visit, Uncle Tommy spoiled each of us in our own way, giving us gifts and taking us to places we hadn’t been to in years. Then, on the last day of our stay, he showed us a stack of letters he had received in the mail just a few weeks before. The envelopes were crinkled or bent in places and had been wrapped together with fraying rubber bands, but the Canadian seal on each of the letters made the sender obvious. I still have them, you know - rubber bands and all.

Just before my fourteenth birthday, we ran into some trouble. Well, more like trouble found us and beat us with all it had. A group of hunters came into Myrtle Beach, ready to rip the place apart from the ground up, and a group of our neighbors went into the fight against them. With Miles being eighteen, he was allowed to join them, but Bentley and I were supposed to stay hidden until they came back. Supposed to.

One of the hunters had a dog. Once it had caught a whiff of us, it barked, sending a handful of hunters our way. I was the only one of the two of us that had a gun, so I did what I could until Dad and Miles showed up, taking care of the rest of them. Wanting to keep us safe, Dad brought us into the city hall across the street from where we had been hiding and brought the three of us inside the fallout shelter in the basement. He gave us each a tight hug and promised us he would protect us before telling Miles to keep an eye on us and locking us inside. We couldn’t hear anything that was happening outside, but we had enough food and water to survive for as long as we needed to.

Miles started to get anxious about Dad not coming back when he didn’t show up the next day. I kept telling him that it was Dad, the same man who told us stories of his time in the military and about how his team always came out victorious. In the end, though, I only held out hope for a week. Bentley tried to keep both of us in positive states, drawing pictures and painting things using whatever he could find down there. When Miles found an old radio that could transmit on a bunch of different frequencies, we tried everything to connect to the one that Dad and our neighbors used, but nobody ever answered. He tried for a few months without success before finally connecting to someone.

“Is this frequency currently in use? This is Miles from Myrtle Beach,” Miles said for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. When the complete silence never ended, he pressed the button on the microphone and added, “Can anybody hear me? Standing by.” Bentley and I looked over from our card game, watching the frustration settle in Miles’ shoulders as he thumped the table with his fist. He had been at that for so long that I was beginning to wonder if it was even worth it anymore. I could practically feel the growing anxiety and frustration in his voice as Miles switched to the next frequency and started again. “Is this frequency currently in use? Hello, this is Miles from Myrtle Beach. Can anyone hear me?” He took his finger off of the microphone and was met with dead air. He took in a shaky breath and said, “If anyone can hear me, please reply. Please.”

Miles rested his elbows on the table, placing his head in his hands and dragging his fingers into his hair. I could tell he was at his wit’s end and just didn’t want to keep doing this anymore, but instead of turning off the radio and joining us for a card game, he pulled the list of frequencies to him and marked off another one. Just as Miles was preparing to switch to the next frequency he had on his list to cycle through, the radio buzzed deeply and a voice came through the speakers for the first time since we had been down there.

“Hi, Miles,” the person said. It was a girl. Bentley and I tossed our blackjack cards onto the floor and hurried over, standing on either side of Miles as he stared at the radio in shock. “We’ve got a signal on you, but it isn’t clear. Where in Myrtle Beach are you calling from?”

Miles turned to each of us with a disbelieving smile before pressing the button and saying, “We’re inside the fallout shelter of the city hall on Broadway Street. Our dad locked us in during a gunfight with some hunters and we can’t get out.”

“‘We’?” the girl asked. “Who else is with you?”

“My little brothers,” Miles replied. “They’re fourteen and twelve.”

The girl on the other end was silent for a minute before saying, “You’re in luck, my brothers and I are leaving the Fayetteville area now and we can probably make it there in about two hours, give or take.”

Tugging on Miles’ shirt, I said, “Isn’t Fayetteville a long walk from here? How are they going to get here in two hours?”

Miles nodded and I guessed he had thought that too as he pushed the button and said, “I thought Fayetteville was a day’s walk from here. How are you going to get here that fast?”

“Who said we’re walking?” came the response. In the background, I heard a loud rumble. “We got a military truck out of Fort Bragg yesterday and just filled the tank. Now, we’re getting ready to head down to you. I’d tell you to stay put, but I don’t think you have much of a choice, so I’m just going to say that we’ll see you soon, Miles from Myrtle Beach. Over and out.”

“See you soon,” Miles replied with a smile on his face that, for the first time in ages, seemed to be real. “Over and out.” As soon as the radio went back to dead air, the three of us let out screams of excitement and Miles took turns picking me and Bentley up and spinning us around. We spent a while gathering supplies from the shelter and shoving them into our backpacks and some duffel bags we had found in the supply closets. By the time the other group got to us, we were sitting on the floor, playing cards. That was the day we met the girl on the radio, Lela, her brother, Butchy, and their friend who was like a brother to them, Lugnut. It was also the day we found out that our dad had died just outside the city hall.

What remained of his body was propped against the door, the words “FREE MY SONS” written on the wall next to him in what looked like dried blood. I can remember looking at him and thinking it didn’t look like my dad anymore. It looked almost like one of those skeletons you see in Halloween stores. Bentley took one look at it, threw up, and passed out from crying. I don’t remember much else from that day. According to Miles, it was like I was empty inside. I didn’t talk, I didn’t move unless someone told me to, and I didn’t look at anyone unless they were talking to me. It took me a few days to find my way back to my usual self, but Miles and Bentley were there to help as we went with the new group through the south, helping others.

In the first year of being with them, our group of six had gone through most of the eastern half of the United States. We went from South Carolina, through Georgia, and into Florida, sweeping the state as quickly as possible before leaving through the panhandle into Alabama where we met others that needed help. When we were done there, we went through Mississippi and Arkansas, dipping into Oklahoma to visit Tulsa - a location from a book I liked called The Outsiders - and then heading back to the east through Missouri, Tennessee, and Kentucky. For each location, I picked up a postcard from the area and kept it tucked into the rubber band our mom’s letters had come in.

By the time I was almost sixteen, we had ended up in Washington, DC. We didn’t stay there long as the rules in the Quarantine Zone were super strict. I wasn’t surprised; it was the nation’s capital, after all. We cut through Maryland, Delaware, and New Jersey, but we stayed in New York for a while, visiting what remained of The Big Apple. Touring Times Square and all of the most historical places in that area with nobody else around felt weird, especially with some of the giant billboards and other signs still lit up, displaying ads that nobody could buy from anymore. We even got to see the Statue of Liberty and go to the top of the Empire State Building. I loved New York, but it felt eerily quiet with almost nobody else around.

My sixteenth birthday rolled around and, with it, came the time to move again. We had wanted to cut through the Hartford, Connecticut Quarantine Zone, but the people there were assholes and the military treated the citizens like crap. It took us a while to get through there, but we had to leave our faithful military truck there in order to climb over the large, guarded walls and get through to the outside world. We found a couple of extra maps in a nearby diner and followed them up to the border of Massachusetts. Despite not having any radio signals from the state, Butchy insisted on going through the state thoroughly before continuing north. Our goal was to go up to Canada to see our mom, but we weren’t going to argue with the person who took such good care of us. We did branch off to visit Six Flags and, although the rides were all shut down and rusting away, the place still looked incredible.

Eventually, we made it to a city called West Springfield. Since it had once been a busy area, Butchy had tasked Miles - our resident scout and sniper - to scout out the area for infected, which wasn’t unusual for us. However, when Miles didn’t report back to us over the walkie-talkies by the end of the day, we began to worry. We made our way to the next city - Chicopee - and found a man that said he’d seen a guy matching Miles’ description heading toward the Holyoke Mall. Following the route Miles had supposedly taken, we found ourselves across the street from the shopping mall Miles had been headed toward. Bentley and I had wanted to search the place to see if he was there, but Butchy said it would be best if we waited for daylight to go searching a building like that because it probably had no power. We ended up walking just a few minutes down the road and staying in a run-down hotel that night.

The next morning, before anybody else was awake, Bentley and I grabbed our things and snuck out, heading to the mall down the road and making our way inside through an open loading bay. Inside, we found pools of blood from an obvious fight and a scorch mark on the floor that smelled like alcohol. Bentley and I pulled on our masks as we got further inside. Eventually, we found a set of doors and headed inside, finding ourselves surrounded by racks and racks of clothing. We headed through the store until we found the exit. Not wanting to run into any infected, Bentley and I walked into a few different stores on the bottom floor before finding our way into a place called FYE.

The place was filled with movies, music, and books, so we decided to look around a bit in there before continuing our search. After a while of looking through things, I could tell Bentley was getting antsy and wanted to go somewhere else. “Can we go now?” he asked as I looked through some of the things that had been left in the store. “I want to check out that Hobby Lobby place while we’re looking for Miles.”

I rolled my eyes, “I highly doubt Miles is going to be hiding out in a Hobby Lobby. Besides, don’t you have enough paint with what he’s made you from those flowers?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“No ‘buts’,” I interrupted. “Miles already feels bad about dragging us across the country, Ben, we don’t need to make him feel worse by not appreciating what he’s given us. Let’s just finish searching the place and we can tell Butchy if we’ve found him or not.”

Bentley sighed and shook his head, seemingly agreeing with the plan as he turned around. Before I could say anything to him, I heard a girl’s voice order, “Hands up and don’t fucking reach for anything.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bentley put his arms up. It must’ve been someone we didn’t know. Shit. I’d been hoping it was Lela. “You too, buddy-boy. Arms up and turn to me.” With a scoff, I slowly raised my arms, the book I was looking at still firmly grasped in one of my hands as I turned to the girl. For a girl who had an arrow aimed at my face, she was beautiful. “Good,” she said. “Now, who are you and why the fuck are you in our mall?”

“Who are you?” Bentley asked her before I got the chance to. He didn’t seem worried about her at all, but then again, neither was I. We knew how to handle ourselves.

Her name was Vivien and she gave us some spiel about how her team had taken over the mall. Maybe her people had run into Miles. Maybe they had hurt him. As much as I didn’t want to think about the possibility that Vivien’s friends could have hurt my brother, I let the anger I felt about the situation fuel my aggression toward her that day. Bentley made up for it by being really nice to her and, as time went on, I felt bad about how I’d treated her. Mama, Dad, and Miles had taught me better than that. In the end, one of her friends called a nearby hospital we hadn’t known about and confirmed that there was a man with our brother’s name in the hospital. He had gotten shot protecting one of the soldiers from one of their groups and they’d taken him to the hospital.

With that knowledge, Bentley told Vivien that we would be back and then we found our way out of the shopping mall. We found Lela, Butchy, and Lugnut searching the area of the hotel when we got back to them. Bentley practically ran over to them, babbling on and on about what we had done. “Then this girl named Vivien came and told us that her group has control of the mall now and then she called her friend and her friend called the hospital and found out Miles was there.”

“What was her friend’s name?” Lugnut asked.

“I think it was Mikaela or McKenzie or-”

“Makana,” I corrected from my place next to Bentley.

“Yeah, that,” Bentley agreed. “She was really nice and-”

“Wait,” Lela began, “Makana? That was the girl’s name?”

Bentley shrugged, “The older one, yeah. She was a little taller than Royce, brown hair, brown eyes.”

“Why, what’s up?” I asked.

Lela and Lugnut turned to Butchy who looked surprised, but deep in thought. “Do you think they’re still there?” he asked.

Bentley and I shared a look of complete confusion before I nodded. “They said they’d be there until tonight.”

Butchy nodded, mostly to himself at that point. “Well, let’s get some lunch into us, and then we’ll see about getting over there.”

Eventually, we did end up going back to the mall and meeting up with the other group. They brought us to the safe-house they’d been staying in and let us stay in the townhouse next to theirs. The room Bentley and I shared was upstairs and had probably been used for a set of brothers if the bunk beds were anything to go by. The bed on the top shook when you touched it and the bed on the bottom was wide, so we decided to just share the bottom bunk. Not long after we’d settled into our room, a thunderstorm rumbled its way through the area and, to my dismay, the house wasn’t good at keeping the noise out. Bentley went downstairs to get me a bottle of water and came back with a cup of juice in one hand, a bottle of water in the pocket of his sweatpants, and a black box in the other. As he sat down, he placed the cup on the nightstand and threw the water and box at me. I examined the box, finding it to be a Walkman cassette player. Miles had one when we were younger; he used to let me borrow it during storms too, but he’d play things from our parents’ collection of tapes from the eighties and nineties.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, earning me a glare from the one person I thought would never give me one. “What?”

“Viv wanted me to give it to you,” Bentley snarked. “She came over to get her friend away from Butchy and we talked for a bit. She said you could use it during the storm.”

“She did?”

Bentley nodded, “Do you feel like an ass now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Bentley sent me a firm look before occupying himself with the drawing he was working on for Miles. “You were horrible to her earlier.”

I laid back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling and holding the cassette player tight as a rumble of thunder passed. “I already planned on apologizing to her tomorrow.”

“As you should.” I glanced over at Bentley as I tucked an earbud into my left ear. He wasn’t even looking at me. “She’s really nice and you were super rude to her for no reason.”

“I’m aware,” I sighed, tossing an arm over my eyes. “I never meant to be rude, I was just stressed over Miles being gone. I shouldn’t have taken that out on Vivien though. As soon as I can, I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize.”

“You better,” Bentley ordered. “She has siblings my age and, if I’m going to be friends with them, it would make things a lot easier if you were friends with Vivien.”

“I want to be friends with her too, you know,” I chuckled. “She seems like a great person.”

Bentley hummed and the room was quiet for the most part. Another rumble of thunder roared overhead and I quickly pressed play on the cassette player, letting the sound of AC/DC’s Highway to Hell play through the one earbud I had put in. Even though my earbud-less right ear was pressed into the pillow I’d be using that night, I heard Bentley say, “You just think she’s pretty.”

“What was that?” I asked, tilting my head away from the pillow and looking up at my little brother.

A smirk grew on Bentley’s face as he finally glanced at me and shook his head, “Nothing, just thinking aloud.”

I sent him a skeptical look before shrugging and rolling onto my other side, putting the other earbud in my ear as I said, “Whatever you say, Ben.” I had heard him. It was pretty hard not to when he was right next to me, but I didn’t feel like arguing the point. He was right, anyway; Vivien was pretty and I wasn’t going to deny that. However, I liked her personality far more. In the few interactions I’d had with Vivien, she was nothing but nice to me regardless of my behavior toward her. She seemed to care a lot for the people around her, especially her team. She had even let me borrow her Walkman despite how rude I’d been to her when we first met. As I zoned out to the next song on the AC/DC cassette, Girls Got Rhythm, I tried to think of a way that I could apologize to Vivien without making things weird.

The storms had passed during the night and, in the morning, I went next door and found myself cornered by a majority of Vivien’s friends until she came downstairs and freed me from them. I followed her outside and instead of being mad or making the atmosphere uncomfortable with silent rage, Vivien talked with me like it was just another day and, once I had apologized, it seemed as though we were starting on a blank slate. I gave her back her Walkman and we talked about my family and what we were up to before our groups met until her friend from before, Mick, told us it was time to go.

The entire way to the hospital was filled with Vivien, Bentley, and me talking about whatever we could think of. Vivien and Bentley told me about how Vivien was better with faces than she was with names and how she’d given us car-themed nicknames to remember us easier. Bentley and I told her about our extensive collection of comic books and we all talked about how we liked to collect different things from each place we visited. The walk to the hospital was long, but it went by a lot faster with the three of us talking.

The girl at the front desk told us where to go and, after a quick debate on whether or not to use the dilapidated elevators, we made our way upstairs. As we marched our way up an endless flight of stairs, Bentley nudged me and quietly told me to stop staring at Vivien’s ass as she led the line of us up to the fourth floor. It wasn’t like I was trying to stare - she had a neon orange star painted on her back pocket and I was trying to see what had been drawn over it, but she moved too fast for me to see it. When we reached the fourth-floor landing, Vivien led me and Bentley inside and over to the nurse’s area, meeting some blonde girl who wore so much pink that she looked like a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.

While Vivien went back and got the rest of our group, Bentley and I were left with the girl who didn’t seem much for conversation until Bentley asked how our brother was doing. “Well, he was shot,” she said with this know-it-all attitude that made me roll my eyes, “so he’s doing as well as can be expected.”

Bentley deflated and gave a meek nod as I put an arm around him. I’ve never had the urge to shove someone out a window before, let alone a woman, but I guess there was a first time for everything. If this was how she treated all of her patients, I think I probably would’ve preferred death than be in her care. Finally, Vivien returned with the others and we all followed the girl, who I later found out was named Carrie, to Miles’ room. Before we could go in, the girl gave us some more common sense about Miles being in pain from surgery and how they’d had to take out his appendix as well as the bullet, and how we needed to be careful with him - like we didn’t know how to handle our brother being injured. Butchy quickly stepped in and allowed us to go into Miles’ room while he handled the girl and it didn’t take much convincing for us to run inside.

It hurt to see Miles just lying there in a hospital bed and, honestly, it was something I never wanted to see again, but the happiness on his face when he saw us made everything better. Bentley and I hugged him for as long as we could before Bentley began his ramble about everything that had happened since Miles had been gone. I added my two cents here and there as he went and, as Miles smiled our way, I felt at peace. The two of us brought him up to speed on everything that he had missed and Miles never once stopped us.

By the time we had finished talking, everyone else had taken up a chair and waited patiently so they could speak. Lela quickly filled the space as I looked around. The room wasn’t too big, but it had enough space for two beds and all of the medical equipment each bed required. However, I quickly noticed our two companions had disappeared. Turning to Butchy, I asked, “Where did Vivien and Mick go?”

He smiled and nodded toward the door. “They wanted to get something to eat. I heard Mick say something about burgers.”

With a nod, I went back to focusing on Miles, but he soon said that we should get something to eat. “But we just got here,” Bentley said. “We want to spend more time with you.”

Miles reached up and put a hand on Bentley’s cheek. “I know you do and, believe me, I want that too, but I’ll still be here when you finish eating.”

“Can’t we eat with you?” I asked.

With a sigh, Miles said, “I need to talk with Butchy, baby. Go down to the cafeteria and eat. Please.” Bentley looked at me and I suppose we both looked worried about leaving as Miles extended a hand with his pinkie up. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Bentley and I wrapped our fingers around Miles’ and stood from his bed. As we passed Butchy, he stood. “I’ll go with them and make you up a tray. When I get back,” he turned to Lugnut and Lela, “you two can go down and eat, alright?” The two of them nodded and soon we were off, heading down a floor to where that Carrie girl told us the cafeteria was. Stepping inside the cafeteria, the overpowering smell of food hit me like I had walked face-first into a brick wall. There were scents in the air that brought back waves of nostalgia for things I hadn’t had in years and it didn’t take much for my mouth to water. Butchy nudged Bentley and me further into the room, handing us trays to fill with food as he took two and began walking around. Realizing we could take whatever we wanted, Bentley and I began filling our trays with whatever we thought we could stomach - pizza, steak, mashed potatoes, and whatever else looked good. Finally, just as I was about to find a place to sit down, Butchy nudged me and told me not to forget a drink.

The drinks were on a table in the center of the room, labels above each. I scanned the table before my eyes landed on the cans of soda that had been organized in rows. I hadn’t had soda in years, but I was definitely up for a sugar rush. I grabbed a can of grape for myself, popping the top open and downing about half of it before placing it on my tray and shoving another can of it into the back pocket of my jeans.

Bentley came over with his tray and set it down on the metal bars on the side of the table. “What is all of this stuff?”

“Drinks,” I replied. I held my already open can of soda out to him and he cautiously took it. “It’s just soda, try it.”

Bentley shrugged and took in a mouthful of my soda before making a face and handing it back. “Is it supposed to taste like medicine?”

I rolled my eyes and placed the soda back in its spot. “It tastes like grape soda, not medicine. You just have the taste buds of a ninety-seven-year-old.”

Bentley grabbed an orange soda off of the table with a shake of his head, “Well, you must not have any taste buds at all if you think that tastes good.”

As my brother stalked off to the dessert table, I rolled my eyes and made my way to where the dining area was, but changed direction when I spotted Vivien and Mick sitting at a table with a piece of paper on the table that Mick was pointing at. Figuring I might as well sit with people I knew already, I headed over to them and sat next to Vivien. Mick told us about their plans of going down to ground zero to clear out what had been left behind and take care of any infected that were still down there. They answered any questions we had and, before long, they were getting ready to leave while Lela and Lugnut were just sitting down to eat.

As they wove their way through the groups of people that had filed into the cafeteria, Lugnut nudged me and I turned to him curiously. “Are you not going after her?” he asked.

“She said they’d be fine,” I replied with a shrug.

Lela sighed and when I looked up, she was rolling her eyes at me, “Girls say stuff like that all the time, but we rarely mean it. I bet Vivien would appreciate that you bothered to try to keep her from going.”

“Really?” I asked.

Even Bentley nodded in response. After swallowing a bite of his pizza, Bentley said, “You should go get her before you miss your chance, RJ.”

I quickly pushed my chair out from the table and turned to where Vivien and Mick had been, only to see them pushing the door of the cafeteria open. Weaving my way through the people, I made my way to the door just in time for Vivien and Mick to reach the old elevators. “Vivien, wait up!”

She stopped and Mick said something to her before continuing down the hall. I tried to convince Vivien not to go along with the plan, but she couldn’t be swayed. “What can I say, Rolls, I’m a pretty stubborn girl.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I said, “You’re guilty on both counts.”

Vivien snorted and shook her head as a shade of red crossed her nose and spread across her cheeks. “I don’t know who gave you that line,” she said, “but they need to be fired.”

Was it that bad of a pickup line? I got it from a comic book Bentley had found a month or so ago. I didn’t think it was that bad. “Fired?”

Vivien quickly nodded with a beaming smile, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “Yep. Out of a cannon.”

“Ouch,” I laughed, hoping she couldn’t hear the nervousness in it. “And here I thought you’d like cheesy bullshit like that.”

My heart plummeted to my stomach as Vivien’s smile fell and a hurt look flashed in her eyes. “So I’m not pretty and stubborn?”

“What?” I reached out to Vivien, trying to calm her down in any way I could. “No, you are!”

She sighed and looked away, “But you said it was bullshit.”

“That’s not what I meant!” I quickly insisted. “You’re really pretty and you’re insanely stubborn, I just meant-”

“I know,” Vivien cut me off, lifting her gaze back to mine and smirking at me. “I was just fucking with you, man.”

I felt relief wash over me as I breathed a sigh of relief, but when I realized she was just teasing me, I rolled my eyes and huffed, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Guilty as charged.”

In the end, I promised Viv I would get her a cupcake for when she got back and went back to the cafeteria, stopping at the dessert table to grab the last cupcake before making my way to the table. When we finished eating, we headed back upstairs and I brought the cupcake with me, leaving it on the stand by Miles’ bed for safekeeping. When we told Butchy what was going on with Mick and Vivien, he seemed worried, but I guess that was par for the course seeing as one of them was his girlfriend. The six of us talked for a while before Carrie came in and checked on Miles in near-perfect silence. As Miles began talking with her, Butchy stood and said that we would go back to the safe-house and get some clothes for Miles to change into when he got out of the hospital.

Lugnut seemed to understand something I didn’t, offering to stay there and keep Miles company while we were gone. Bentley left his sketchbook with Miles and I instructed him not to eat the cupcake for Vivien before we grabbed our backpacks and left, following Butchy and Lela to the stairs and down to the main floor. However, as we reached the front desk, Butchy asked the girl who was still there where the girls had gone. As we followed the girl through the halls, I quietly asked Butchy, “I thought we were going to the safe-house?”

He merely shook his head and said, “If he knew I was bringing you down here, he’d kill me. However, we need your hearing and, potentially, your medical knowledge, so I may have lied a bit.”

I smirked up at him as I said, “I thought you told us lying was never a good thing?”

“Give me shit about it later,” was Butchy’s reply. “We’ll get him something from the gift shop later as an apology.”

With a shake of my head, I followed them through the halls and into the room the girl showed us - the Oncology Center. As soon as we entered the room, I heard Vivien and Mick talking. We talked with them for a while and joined them in clearing out the ambulance area outside before heading back to the Trauma Center doors. After hearing one of the loudest, most disgusting noises any of us had ever heard on the other side of the doors, we decided we needed more ammo to take that thing - whatever it was - out.

When we went back up to Miles’ floor to ask where the armory was, Carrie was yelling at some guy for not scanning a patient for infection. I noticed the look of discomfort on Vivien’s face as she slowed down to the same pace Bentley and I were using, but that didn’t seem to prevent the guy from seeing her. The moment he called someone a bitch, I just knew I would deck him if given the chance, but when Vivien responded to his call, I felt something in me burn with anger. Vivien had been nothing but kind to all of us and she’d barely known us for two days. That imbecile had no right to call her something she wasn’t.

As Vivien tried to walk away from the moron, he reached out and grabbed her hair, pulling her back like a toddler would a doll. “Viv!” Mick yelled. She looked pissed as the guy slammed Vivien against the wall. I felt a rage burn in my chest as I tried to move closer, but Bentley’s grip on my hand and Butchy’s arm in front of me were the only things keeping me back. I didn’t need to worry too much - Vivien was capable of holding her own. She kicked the man in the balls as Mick ran over and took him to the floor, dragging Vivien with them as the man still had a hand latched onto her hair.

I couldn’t see much of the interaction between the three of them, but the sound of a crunch and a scream was enough to make me shove my way forward as Mick and Vivien backed away from the idiot on the ground. For a while, it was like I could only see red. Then, as I looked over to Vivien and saw her looking my way with wide eyes, things returned to normal. I dropped the man I couldn’t remember grabbing and took a few steps back, taking a deep breath as Bentley came over and asked if I was alright.

“What happened?” I asked him.

“You were a total badass,” Bentley replied with a cheesy smile. “Where did that even come from?”

“Where did what come from?”

Bentley’s smile sort of disappeared as he tilted his head in confusion. “You telling that dude we’d feed him to the basement monster. You know, what happened, like, ten seconds ago.”

I slowly shook my head and whispered, “I think I blacked out.”

Bentley snickered and put his hands on my shoulders as he told me, “Well, it was totally badass and I think you really impressed Vivien with it.”

I honestly didn’t remember doing anything, but as I turned to Vivien and found her looking up at me with a smile, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Mick moved away and I moved closer to Vivien, asking her if she was alright and helping her to her feet. We brought her over to the nurse’s station and Carrie went to get her some Tylenol as everyone questioned her about how she was feeling.

As Carrie pulled out a bottle with a red lid, Miles’ voice carried through the hall, “What happened? Is everyone okay?” Bentley and I hurried over to him, trying to get him back into his room as Carrie told him he shouldn’t be out of bed. I tried not to roll my eyes, taking Miles’ pistol from him as explained, “I heard my brothers yell and some banging. I thought they needed help.” I ducked into Miles’ room as Vivien apologized for causing the issue - which wasn’t her fault in the slightest - and heard Miles ask, “Is that the one Royce has a crush on?”

“I don’t have a crush on her,” I argued as I tucked Miles’ gun into the closet that held the possessions he’d entered the hospital with.

I heard Bentley hum and saw him nod as I came back toward where they were standing. “Are you okay?” Miles asked Vivien.

Viv nodded, “I’ll be fine. Thanks for asking.”

With a nod, Miles let us bring him back into his room and helped him back into bed, pestering me with questions about Vivien until I told him we were just friends. He didn’t seem to accept that as a fact, but stopped his questions for the time being as Bentley and I took the chance to scold him for getting out of bed before being told he could. Not long after, Vivien came in and told us the rest of the group was going upstairs to the armory. Bentley and I hugged Miles once more and I asked Vivien if she was sure she was alright after all that had happened. She confirmed that she was fine and, in return, asked me to look for some explosive arrows while we were up there.

Bentley tried to tease me about Vivien the entire time we were in the stairwell and the armory, but I was able to stop his comments by bringing up his nonexistent love life. After getting what I needed from the armory, I managed to find a storage container filled with various types of arrows. When I asked Mick for help picking out the ones for Vivien, she handed me a long tube with a strap on it and told me to put the red-tipped arrows inside of it. I was able to fit quite a few arrows inside the tube, sliding the strap over my head so the tube - or quiver, as Vivien later corrected me - rested against my back during the trip downstairs.

When we got back to Miles’ room, he was braiding Vivien’s hair and talking with her. Vivien gave me a bright smile and thanked me a few times when I gave her the arrows. Miles joked about joining the fight, but we all shot him down pretty quickly before leaving his room and making our way downstairs again. When we got downstairs, we all sort of stopped in the hallway that housed the entrances to the Emergency Room, Trauma Center, and ICU. I sat with Bentley, holding his hand and trying to keep him calm even though my nerves were already feeling shot. When Butchy asked everyone if they were ready, I desperately wanted to say no, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I knew we needed to get this over with.

The Trauma Center door opened and, as soon as we entered, I could hear the monster. It was a lot quieter than it had been earlier, meaning it was further away, but the fact that it was a lot clearer than it had been, put me on edge. It was here with us, just not close. Trying to force that idea out of my head, I let Bentley bring me wherever he went, searching for any infected that were still clinging to life. Eventually, I heard Lela and Vivien talking on the other side of the room. While Bentley was busy rummaging around for supplies, I watched them, finding them standing at the entrance of what had once been a doorway. The hole they stood in front of was huge and dark, but anytime their flashlights shone into the room, I could see blood. Vivien grabbed her bow and placed an arrow on it as Bentley showed me what he’d found in one of the cabinets on the wall - a box of unopened needles, some IV bags, and a stack of folders with dates on them ranging from November 2013 to early February of 2017. As I told Bentley what a good find that was, a sharp whistle made me jump, turning to where Vivien and Lela were standing.

Bentley and I followed the group over to where the other two were, finding a long trail of thick, fresh blood leading back to a spore spot on the wall. While we examined the walkway between the Emergency Room and the Trauma Center, a loud, deep growl roared through the area, making me cover my ears as it only seemed to reverberate through the Trauma Center. Once the noise was mostly gone and the oldest three of our group - Mick, Butchy, and Lugnut - told us what they wanted us to do in case things took a turn for the worse, we followed the blood trail closer to the monster. I pulled some ear plug out of my pocket and kept only one in while we snuck around so that I could hear when we got close. A loud, echoing growl rattled through a room as we stepped inside, the older people of the group gesturing for us to hide. I put a hand on Vivien’s arm and, when she turned to me, I pointed to where the noise had originated. We would be lucky if the monster was 25 feet away.

Eventually, I was handed a flaming bottle of alcohol and I pushed myself just enough that I could see the outline of the creature as it loomed in the dimly lit area across from us. Sending the fiery glass bottle hurtling through the air felt good, but it also made me the first one to lay eyes on the monster that Bentley later called a rat king. The beast was huge and ugly, but I didn’t look for long as we all separated and moved around the room. As I tried to hide behind a nearby gurney, the area we’d been in a moment before exploded with spores. I didn’t notice it for a moment as I was too busy setting up a trap mine, but the acid from the spores burned the bottom of my jeans and melted a small hole in the bottom of my already tattered shoes.

I threw a trap mine as Mick popped out from around the corner and unleashed a few incendiary rounds from her shotgun. At the same time, the glint of an arrowhead caught my eye and I glanced over at Vivien, just barely catching her duck behind a filing cabinet as Lela released a burst of flames from her weapon of choice and Vivien’s arrow exploded. The monster reached for its shoulder and threw an almost glowing sack in the direction Vivien’s arrow had come from and I had to hold back a scream as it burst against the wall next to the filing cabinet she had been hiding behind. Not wanting to go down without a fight, I took off my backpack and unclasped the only gun I had gotten from the armory - a submachine gun. Mick had given it to me when she realized I didn’t have a gun, telling me that it was one of the quietest guns they had. It had a tube on the end that she said was a built-in silencer that couldn’t be taken off and, as I fired a few rounds at the rat king, I was grateful I had taken it when she offered.

I saw Lela let loose with her flamethrower when the rat king turned in the other direction. Butchy and Lugnut had rounded the rat king, shooting at it with a shotgun and a rifle while Mick’s flaming Molotovs illuminated the area. I crept over to where Bentley and Vivien were hiding and talked with them until Vivien had the idea of getting the rat king outside through the Emergency Room. I stared at Vivien, making sure she really wanted to do this before sighing and nodding, “Ready when you are.”

She nodded in return and tucked her earbud in as she began moving and said, “Stay right on my ass, yeah?”

As the bright orange star with a smile on it came into my vision, I smirked and said, “Can’t miss it.”

Vivien quickly whirled around, sending me a small glare that made me want nothing more than to disappear. “What?”

“You have a neon orange star with a smiley face painted on the back pocket of your jeans,” I said, hoping she’d accept that as a worthy explanation. She looked over her shoulder as I chuckled nervously and continued speaking, “I’d have to be blind to miss it.”

“Oh, right,” she breathed as she began moving out of the area again. “Sorry, Rolls.”

I followed her through the halls, hearing more gunshots and explosions as the others defended themselves as best as they could. I could feel my chest tighten as we ran, each breath feeling harder to take as we neared the hole in the wall that led to the Emergency Room. I apologized for taking a break as Vivien worked on pushing the door open, but she told me it was alright. As she forced the door open and called for me to join her, I pushed myself off of the wall and watched as a stalker launched out from behind a crate of supplies and grabbed Vivien.

Vivien kicked the stalker in the leg as I pushed myself forward, yelling her name as she fell to the ground and the stalker jumped onto her. I ran up behind the stalker and grabbed it by the forehead, driving my pocket knife into its neck, pulling it out, and shoving it back in a few more times for safety’s sake before tossing it aside and watching as it eventually stopped moving.

Vivien sounded out of breath as she sighed, “Thanks.”

I nodded and panted out, “No problem,” before shaking my head and turning toward Vivien. “Where did that thing come-” I stopped myself and for a moment, it seemed like everything around us had frozen as well. Vivien’s mask - the one thing letting her breathe in the spore-infested Emergency Room - was missing one of the air filters that she needed to be able to take in any clean air. “Oh, shit! Viv, your mask!”

Vivien looked confused until she felt the mask and came to the same realization I had. I heard a very quiet, “Shit,” come from her as I reached up to the top latch of my mask.

“Here,” I started as I began to loosen my mask, “we can share mine-”

Vivien’s eyes widened as she quickly yelled, “No, no, no!” Her hands grabbed mine and pulled them away from the mask, shoving me against a wall as she told me, “Don’t take that off!” I tried to argue and fight her off, but it wasn’t working, “Royce, stop!”

“Why?!” I argued loudly, attempting to push myself away from the wall. Viv gave me a shove, forcing me to take in a sharp breath of air as she released one of my hands and pulled her mask off entirely. “No!” I screamed, pushing myself away from the wall so I could grab her mask, but she quickly threw it to the floor. “No! Viv, no!”

“Stop!” Vivien ordered, taking my wrists in her hands again and pushing me back to the wall. Once I had stopped fighting against her as much, she said, “I’m not infected. I’m immune. I’m not coughing, you see?” For the first time, I took a good look at her. It was true, she wasn’t coughing or wheezing. How was that even possible? That meant she had to have been bitten before, right? Or, at the very least, she had breathed in spores before and nothing happened. Regardless of what had happened, my head was reeling a million miles a second. “Royce, did you hear me?” Vivien asked, dragging me back to the task at hand. “I’m immune.”

“But… but you’re-”

Vivien’s voice turned calm and, while it should have been very comforting, it didn’t seem like the time or place for it, “Rolls, I promise you, I’ll explain when this is over, but now’s not the time.” I raised an eyebrow at her and she continued, “We have to help the others.”

I glanced at the doorway as the rat king snarled and I heard a few more explosions before I finally returned my gaze to Vivien and nodded, “Okay.”

“Can you run?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I panted shakily. Vivien sent me a look that told me she didn’t believe me, so I took a deep breath and cleared my throat before restating, “Yes.”

Not giving me any more time to think about her supposed immunity, Vivien nodded and released my arms, pushing me away from the wall and further into the Emergency Room, “Then let’s fucking run. Go!” When we got outside, we found a way to keep the doors open and laid some explosives before making our way back inside. As we got back to where everyone else was, I was shoved to the floor of the nurse’s station as I heard the sound of a glass bottle breaking. “Hey, ugly!” Vivien yelled, firing a few rounds from her handgun. “Come get me!” I tried to move, to get off of the floor, grab her and run, but Bentley and Lela had latched onto my backpack, keeping me inside the confines of the nurse’s station with them.

As Vivien took off in a run and the rat king shambled by us, Lela whispered, “We’ll help her in a minute, relax.” Once the rat king sounded far enough away, we left the confines of the nurse’s station and found Lugnut and Butchy helping a pissed-off Mick to her feet.

“We could’ve helped her!” Mick yelled.

“And we will,” Butchy argued, “but we needed to get it away from the spores and Vivien did that for us. Now we just need to follow her and kill that thing.”

“We can shoot it from the next floor up,” Lugnut suggested as they started heading out of the room. “Just break one of those big windows and shoot the shit out of it.”

“Right,” Mick said, taking Butchy’s hand as they followed Lugnut out. Lela, Bentley, and I followed close behind, but when they ran out into the hall, we ran through the path Vivien had led the rat king on. I led the charge, running on the same path Vivien and I had run just minutes before. Just before we could get to the open doors of the ambulance loading bays, a series of explosions rang through the area, sending one of the beast’s arms rolling into our path. Not a moment later, shattered glass rained from above as we fired whatever ammo we had left. My gun clicked a few times without firing as Bentley shoved another magazine of bullets into his pistol and Lela ran outside with her flamethrower, sending a burst of flames its way as we ran out after her. The beast screamed in pain as an arrow impaled its head from the side and I glanced over just in time to see Vivien lean against the side of a car.

With the monster finally dead, we eventually all went back inside and up to Miles’ room and I passed out against him after telling him all that had happened. Miles was released from the hospital the next day and we were able to go back to the safe-house and relax in what had once been a really nice house. By the end of the week, we were in the back of a truck on the way to a city called Foxborough and, as we pulled into the heavily guarded parking lot, I realized just how big Vivien’s home community was. She took the time to show us around, displaying us to all of her friends the way a child would with a new toy, and I couldn’t be more grateful that I got to spend that time with her.

By the end of August, we fell into a routine that lined up with Vivien’s - breakfast, attend whatever classes Vivien was helping teach, lunch, hang out wherever we felt like it, dinner, watch the stars from the roof, and either stay over in her and Mick’s room or have her in ours. It was a routine that I could learn to love, but I knew it wouldn’t last. Miles had told me that we’d be leaving for Canada at the end of October and that we should make the most of the time we had with them until we came back with Mama, Pépé, and Mémé.

When September came, Miles began teaching me and Vivien how to play guitar in one of the music rooms that famous musicians had used for practice long before we were anywhere near the stadium. Vivien, Bentley, and I spent more time together in the first two weeks of September than we did with anybody else. Then, Friday the fifteenth came around. By that point, I had been trying - with both of my brothers and the rest of our friends pestering me constantly - to grow some balls and ask Vivien out for a few days, to no avail. Every time I felt like just blurting it out, she’d look at me and I’d remember that she could have someone way better than me and I’d stop altogether. Miles and Bentley teased me about it relentlessly.

That morning, however, I hadn’t even started eating when things changed. I had given Vivien a chocolate granola bar since she wouldn’t be able to eat anything for three hours before her appointment and she seemed surprised that I had even bothered to remember when her appointment was supposed to be. Then, when I asked her to hand me the syrup, she asked me to go out on a date with her. I, of course, said yes, and we ended up spending the whole day together. We went to her appointment, then we went bowling and to the movies. Viv had the whole movie memorized and, while I was also very invested in the show, I kept finding myself watching Viv as she stared up at the screen. Even in near-complete darkness, she was beautiful. She always was.

At the end of the day, we went up to the roof of the stadium with Bentley and just talked for a few hours. Bentley and I walked Vivien to her room like we always did and then found our way back to the room that we shared with Miles. The two of them asked me every question under the sun about what I had done with Vivien that day and we ended up staying awake way later than we ever intended.

October brought confusion as Viv almost completely stopped talking to any of us. It really seemed to bother Mick who was not only her roommate, but also one of her best friends. She and I hadn’t gone on a date in almost two weeks despite my asking, she hadn’t practiced guitar with Miles in ages, and Bentley missed reading comics with someone who shared his dyslexic issues. Eventually, we cornered her and asked her what was going on and she admitted that she knew we were leaving. Miles and I told her about us only being gone for a short time and she seemed to take it well. After that, things eased back into normalcy and I took Viv on a date to the music shop that had just opened in the mall, letting her rock out on some drums for a while. That was the day I noticed she would always stick the tip of her tongue between her lips when she was concentrating really hard.

The end of October hit like a ton of bricks. For the longest time, I had wanted nothing more than to go to Canada and be with our family again, but now something was making me want to stay. I wanted Vivien to go with us. She was used to the cold winters of New England; how would Canada be any different? However, with Mick joining us on our trip, Vivien felt obligated to stay and help her team with the new recruits that would be coming in December. So, I made the most of what time I had with her, and when we left, I made her a promise - I’d kiss her the next time I saw her. I had no intention of breaking that promise.

Bentley and I waved to Vivien for as long as we could see her, having moved into the back bedroom and stood in the window until we turned and couldn’t see her anymore. After that, it took Miles a long time to get both me and Bentley to stop crying, but he was understanding and pretty patient with us like he always was. Once we had calmed down enough, Bentley asked Miles if he thought Mom, Mémé, and Pépé would be willing to move back down with us. When Miles replied that he wasn’t sure, I could see the hope disappear in Bentley’s eyes. When we made it back out to the living room area, we sat on the couch and Miles encouraged us to get some sleep, but I just couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes.

Mick passed her cell phone to us during the ride up to the border, letting us talk with Vivien as much as possible as the rather loud RV roared through abandoned streets. As we neared the border crossing, we gave Vivien our parting messages and Mick sent her a final “love you” before our wheels crossed the invisible line separating the United States and Canada. We reached a giant wall about twenty minutes in, but after finding the wall completely unguarded, we found a way to let ourselves into the province of Québec.

The further we got into Canada, the more I realized it seemed to be doing way better than America had been. A few people were walking the streets, there were people driving cars that looked fairly new, and as we neared Beaumont, I saw people leaving their houses in business attire with mugs of coffee like they were ready to head off to work. It was like the infection never even happened. Maybe they’d had enough warning and preparation for it that, when it hit them, they were ready.

As we pulled into Beaumont, Butchy pulled over and asked Miles for the exact address. Miles, in turn, turned to me and asked for the address off of the letters Mom had sent us ages ago. I took the letters out of my backpack and read the address on the top one, “Thirty Rue Riverin.”

As Butchy tapped that into the GPS that the people at the stadium had given us, Miles snorted and patted my arm, “Remind me to have Mama teach you French.”

“I can understand it just fine,” I complained.

“And I’m very proud of you for that, but you need to be able to speak it too,” Miles claimed. “Mémé and Pépé don’t speak fluent English.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “Well, they couldn’t the last time I spoke to them, at least.”

Bentley yawned, pressing his forehead against the cold window as Butchy pulled back onto the road, “I can’t wait until we’re at Mémé and Pépé’s house. I miss the fresh air.”

As Miles rubbed a hand along Bentley’s back, I looked out the window and shook my head, “That fresh air is going to be cold, Benny.”

“I don’t care,” was his reply. “I’m just sick of being carsick.”

Within five minutes, we were pulling onto the street Mémé and Pépé lived on. Miles, Bentley, and I found ourselves on the wrong side of the RV, moving so we were standing in the passenger’s side window, watching to see which house was theirs. Butchy slowed down as we passed a house with an orange roof and the number 24 above the door. Then, pressing into the brakes so quickly it threw me to the floor, Butchy ground the camper to a halt outside the next house on the street. As I pulled myself to my feet, I scanned the house for a moment before finding a plaque with the number 30 on the brick wall that lined their front yard.

The house was big - a lot bigger than I thought it would be - and there were two cars parked in the driveway. It looked like one of those family homes they have in sitcoms or children’s shows where this huge family somehow fits inside a suburban home. While I took in the riverside house, Miles moved away from the window, grabbing the stack of letters from my backpack before all but running out of the camper as soon as he figured out how to unlatch the door. Bentley and I quickly followed, not wanting to miss a moment. Miles ran through the driveway and up the little walkway to the front door, knocking on the black metal that surrounded a fancy glass panel. Just as Miles was about to knock, a figure appeared and approached the door, twisting the lock before pulling it open.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked. She was around the same height as Miles and her smile rivaled Bentley’s, but her hair and eyes looked just like mine. It had to be Mama, there was no way around it.

As if my thoughts came out of Miles’ mouth, all he said was, “Mama?”

The woman looked ready to shake her head, but as her eyes searched Miles’ face, then mine, then Bentley’s, a look of realization flooded her eyes. Then, as Miles held up the stack of letters that I’d been hoarding since they arrived, Mom’s eyes glazed over with tears as she raised a hand to cover her mouth. Hesitantly, she moved her hand over her chest and said, in a broken voice that tore me apart, “My babies?”

Ever the empath, Bentley quickly stepped around Miles, holding his arms out to Mom as he offered, “It’s okay, Mama. Would you like a-”

She didn’t even bother to let him finish, pulling him by the sleeve until he was firmly in her grasp. “My Bentley,” she choked out, pressing a hand to Bentley’s head and kissing his forehead. “My baby boy, tu es devenu si grand!”

Bentley chuckled against her, “I only understood, like, three words of that, but thank you, I think.”

Mom pulled back just enough to see Bentley’s face, holding it in her hands as she smiled despite the tears on her face. “We’ll work on it, darling.”

As she turned her gaze to me, I felt a wave of emotions crash on me all at once. I’d been wanting to see her for years and, now that I finally got the chance, I couldn’t even see her through the blurry tears that refused to stop coming. Mama made up the distance between us, wrapping me in a hug that was somewhere between comforting and suffocating. I was afraid that, if she held me any tighter, I’d have to deal with broken ribs and punctured lungs, but she was so comforting that I wouldn’t have minded if that was the outcome. It had been ten years since I’d last seen Mom and I wanted to cling to her for as long as I could.

All too soon, she pulled away and did the same thing she had done to Bentley, kissed my forehead, and said, “Ne pleure pas, mon bébé, nous sommes ensemble maintenant.”

Before she could translate for me, I nodded and attempted to dry my face with the sleeve of my shirt. “I know, Mama. It’s just a lot, that’s all.”

I felt myself smile as Mom’s eyes glimmered with pride. “You understood me?” she asked.

“Miles has been trying to teach us,” I nodded.

Mom’s attention quickly turned to Miles and, when I finally looked at him, I was shocked to find tears flowing down his face in rivers. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’d seen Miles cry. The last time I’d seen him like this was when we found out Dad had died. To my dismay, Mom released me and brought Miles into a tight hug. She said something to him that I couldn’t quite make out and it was enough to make Miles buckle at the knees, bringing them both down to the concrete walkway. Bentley and I shared a worried look before deciding to join them, wrapping our arms as far around them as they would go. To my surprise, their arms pulled out from under me and dragged me closer in almost perfect unison, most likely doing the same to Bentley.

We stayed like that for a long time and would’ve stayed even longer if it hadn’t been for a heavily accented voice cutting us off, “Thea, what on earth are you doing?” I turned to the doorway of the house and spotted an older woman - maybe around 60 or so - looking back at us in confusion.

Mom backed out of the hug and turned to the woman with a smile, “Mama, your grandbabies have found their way home.”

The woman, our Mémé, looked between us, but Bentley was the one to gain her attention. “Mémé,” he started, “I’m Bentley.”

Mémé smiled and nodded, “I know, my dear.” She held out a hand, waving for him to come closer, “Venez là.”

Bentley turned to us and asked, “That means ‘come here’, right?” Once we nodded in confirmation, Bentley all but propelled himself off of the ground and into Mémé’s awaiting arms. I stayed with Mom, helping her get Miles to a point where he wasn’t crying anymore. Eventually, we got Miles back to his feet and the two of us joined Mémé and Bentley’s hug. When we were invited inside, Mom insisted our friends come in too. We made our way inside the house and it felt like home almost instantly. Mom’s easel was set up in a window overlooking the water behind the house, Mémé’s record player was playing ABBA’s Dancing Queen so that it could be heard from most anywhere in the house, and Pépé was humming along to the music from the kitchen where he was baking. It was everything I had been hoping for and more. It was home.

The first week or so of November, I tried everything in my power to get through to Vivien and let her know where we were, but according to Mom, phones only worked on calls within Canada. So, whenever I got the chance, I would borrow Mick’s phone and send a text to Vivien’s number just so that, if she ever got them, she would know where we were. From what was on the phone, Mick had sent her messages too. It felt sort of stressful to send messages to someone who wasn’t answering, but I hoped she’d get them eventually.

The rest of November was spent getting to know the family were should’ve known all along and letting them know us. For the first time in years, we had a proper Thanksgiving despite them not celebrating it normally. Sometimes, when Bentley and I would sit by the glass door and watch the stars, I’d wonder if Vivien was doing the same thing, but I had no way of knowing. Bentley had told Mom about Vivien and she liked asking me about her when we had some alone time. I was glad she took an interest in her, it gave me the chance to get all of my thoughts out and I came to find out that Mom was amazing at giving advice.

December came in a whirlwind and took all of us by surprise. Not only was the weather colder than any of us were used to, but in the second week of December, an alert came through on the TV while we were watching a movie Pépé had wanted to see. “To all residents of Québec,” the woman on the screen said, “due to seasonal cold and the natural migration of infected, the borders are now, officially closed. Armed guards will be posted at all borders, both provincial and international, in order to enforce this policy. Residents are ordered to stay within their province. Thank you for your understanding. Stay safe.”

The room was silent, seven of the ten of us staring at the screen in various degrees of disbelief. Butchy was the first to snap out of it, “What does she mean, ‘the borders are closed’?”

“During the warmer months, we’re allowed to go between provinces,” Mom explained. “As soon as the warmer weather returns in March or April, they’ll open again.”

“Is that going to stop us from going back to the States?” Lela asked.

Lugnut hummed, “We found a gate in the wall that got us in, maybe we could get back through it.”

“Doubtful,” Pépé sighed. “During winter, the walls are guarded at all times.”

Mémé nodded in agreement, “Best to wait until March or April when the guards don’t stick around.”

“But Miles and I promised Carrie and Vivien that we’d be back in two months at the most,” I claimed, feeling a sense of dread settle in my stomach. I promised Vivien I’d be back soon; I couldn’t just wait until March or April to go back there! I promised. I never break a promise…

Mom tried to convince me that waiting was for the best, but it felt pointless. I was going to find a way to make sure she knew that I was coming back, even if it was later than expected. As the day turned to night, I asked Mick to borrow her phone and stepped outside into the freezing, lakeside air. I debated on what to say before calling Vivien’s number and sitting on the back steps of the house, pulling my coat tighter around me as it rang. And rang… And rang…

Eventually, the phone went to voicemail and, instead of the usual, robotic tone of the voicemail, I was startled to hear heard Vivien’s voice say, “Hey, it’s Vivien. If this is anybody from the Canada crew, I miss you and I’ll see you soon. Anybody else, fuck off… Just kidding! Leave a message!”

The robotic voice soon took over and I heard a sharp beep, telling me I could talk. “Hey, Viv, it’s Royce,” I started with a heavy sigh. “I just wanted to let you know we’ll be a little late coming back. Starting today, the borders are going on lockdown with soldiers guarding them and they won’t leave the walls until March or April. I swear I’ll make it up to you when I get back to you. See you soon.”

With a sigh, I hung up the phone. When the screen returned to the home page, I tapped on the button for the gallery and looked through the pictures Mick had saved. There were entire albums for each of her family members and the girls from her team, but Vivien had a separate album just for her. I pressed on Vivien’s album, finding pictures and videos that Mick had recorded of her. One video was of Vivien playing the drums, something she excelled at and took a lot of pride in. She was amazing. Maybe she’d teach me how to play when we got back. A gust of wind dragged me away from my thoughts and I quickly made my way inside, giving Mick her phone back on my way up to the room I shared with my brothers.

The day before Christmas, we celebrated Mick’s birthday and Pépé made her a cake. It was a nice distraction. Mom brought us to a shopping mall in Lévis and helped us to buy gifts for everyone we wanted to, even Vivien and Carrie. I got Vivien some new drumsticks and some pins for her collection. Mom helped us wrap up the gifts after Mick’s little birthday party. For the first time in a long time, we celebrated Christmas with actual gifts and not just things we’d stolen and handed each other on Christmas morning. It was nice.

It was weird to bring in the New Year with an actual celebration. Mémé and Pépé brought us all to Québec City where they had a huge celebration to bring in 2024. I was grateful that I’d been warned in advance that it would be loud because, holy shit, was it loud! There were concerts, carnival rides, parties everywhere, and firework shows lighting up the city. We spent a few days in Québec City before going home to the peace and quiet of Beaumont. For Miles’ birthday, we set off fireworks and went ice fishing on the St. Lawrence River. Anytime I heard the slightest noise, I thought we were going to fall through, but Pépé told me he’d been fishing like that for years and nothing had happened. I’m not afraid to admit that I was scared the entire time, but so were Butchy and Bentley, so at least I wasn’t alone in that. The rest of the month was spent hearing people fire off whatever fireworks they had left and, for the most part, I slept with headphones on to block out the noise.

February went by so quickly that it made my head spin. One morning, it was the first, the next day, it was the twenty-ninth. We didn’t do anything too fun, but as soon as February turned to March, I began counting the days until we’d be free to go. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed celebrating Bentley’s fifteenth birthday and I loved spending time with my mom and grandparents and getting to know them better, but I wanted to see Vivien again. I tried for months to get them to want to go with us back to the States, but the only one interested was Mom. I couldn’t blame Mémé and Pépé for not wanting to go. They didn’t want to deal with the infected. To be honest, neither did I, but if we could tell everyone back at the stadium about how well Canada was doing with the infection and get them out of the States, it would be worth facing whatever hordes came our way.

By the start of April, the borders still hadn’t opened and I was starting to get anxious about the possibility of them never opening. I had left countless text messages and voicemails on Vivien’s phone, talking about whatever I could think of. I told her about the French lessons Mom and Mémé had been giving us, the little pin collection I had gotten for her, and the Titanic books Pépé had let me read from his collection. I wanted to know as much about it as I could so that, when I met with Vivien again, I’d be able to talk with her about it and not be confused. Butchy saw me reading one of the books with Pépé one day and when I explained my sudden interest in the ship, he welcomed me to the “Whipped Boys Committee”, whatever that was.

“You know,” Pépé began as Butchy left the room, “your grandmother and I visited a museum with a Titanic exhibit.”

That caught my attention. I quickly turned to Pépé from my spot on the floor and asked, “Really? Can we go?”

“It’s in Nova Scotia, buddy,” Pépé commented. “The borders are still closed.”

I could feel the excitement inside of me die as soon as those words came out. “Oh.”

Before I could turn back to the book, Pépé put a hand on my arm and said, “You know, next time you come up here and the borders are open, bring your Vivien with you. We’ll stay in Nova Scotia for the weekend so you two can explore.”

“Really?” I asked, turning so I was facing him.

“I don’t see why not,” he replied. “If she is half as interested as you say she is, she will love it.”

I must’ve thanked him a million times that day and the two-and-a-half-hour-long ramble I went on about Vivien had to have bored him to death, but Pépé sat with me through it all, listening intently and even taking the time to ask me questions whenever I stopped to take a breath. I enjoyed every moment of it and, from the smile on his face, Pépé must’ve too.

Blowing everyone’s expectations out of the water, the government didn’t open the borders until the second week of May. The news report only said it was due to an increase in infected sightings on the southern borders of the provinces, but I wasn’t sure if they were telling the truth or not. By the end of the month, we had everything packed into the camper and ready to go. Mémé and Pépé told us they would see us soon and that, when we came back, we would celebrate. We spent a long time saying goodbye to them on the first of June, but before I knew it, we were on the road again. The giant wall was a lot easier to cross now that we knew how to get through it and, eventually, we crossed the invisible line into the state of Vermont.

We didn’t get far into Vermont before the first of many troubles started. Mick realized, after crossing the border that her phone had died due to constantly checking it on the ride, making it impossible for us to get anything through to Vivien or anybody else back at the stadium. Then, while Butchy was cranking along the highway near a town called Lyndon, a loud noise reverberated through the RV and he pulled to the side of the highway. We all sat inside the vehicle while Butchy, Lugnut, Lela, and Miles went to check out the issue. As soon as he opened the hood, I could see the problem billowing out from the engine. We weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. They tried for a few hours to get the RV moving again, but by the time it was dark, the vehicle refused to start. We ended up spending the night in the RV and, in the morning, we gathered all that we needed to bring and began walking the rest of the way.

With all of the stops we had to make for me to take a break and breathe, it took us a lot longer than it should have to make it to a nearby town with a similar name - Lyndonville. We stopped at an inn that looked like a strong breeze could knock it down, but the beds were warm and I was alright with sleeping there for one night. In the morning, we spent an hour or so searching the GPS for any car places in the area and found a truck dealership that was practically a straight shot from the inn. We made it there in about a half hour and the others got to work fixing up the only truck that was close to working. More than once, they had us run to a hardware store across the street to get tools, but in the end, we had a truck. Butchy drove us all back to the inn and we stayed there another night before heading out again in the morning.

Butchy, Mick, Lela, Mom, and Bentley sat inside the truck while Miles, Lugnut, and I sat in the open air the truck bed gave. Given that we couldn’t hear each other over the wind, the three of us sat in relative silence as Butchy’s GPS brought us into the town of St. Johnsbury. I watched the buildings as we drove by, attempting to read whatever signs were still on them as we passed. Then, as we got into the downtown area, Butchy slowed down. When I looked over to see what was going on, I saw a blonde man in ripped, bloody clothes stumbling in the road, trying to flag us down. Butchy pulled the car to a stop and I turned to Miles, “Are we gonna help him?”

Miles shook his head, “Stay low and get your backpack just in case.”

“What? Why?” I asked, watching him strap his backpack on and pull out one of the mines he’d taught me to make ages ago.

“Just do it,” Lugnut said, pulling out his pistol.

“He’s not even hurt,” Miles claimed as I tugged my bag onto my shoulders.

As soon as I ducked down, the truck lurched forward and I heard the tires screech as we drove toward the man standing in the road. Suddenly, I heard gunshots ring out, covering my ears as Miles and Lugnut began firing back. Driving through the area, a brick smashed into the metal not even a foot from my head and, when I looked up, I saw the blonde man had come from a group who were now throwing things and shooting at us. When I heard glass shatter, I peered into the cab and saw Mick’s window had been smashed in. Then, I saw it. A bus rolling down a street that connected with the street we were on.

“Look out!” I screamed, but as Butchy stomped on the gas, I realized I was just a bit too late. The bus clipped the bed of the truck, slamming Miles and Lugnut to the metal in a heap as we skidded through the street. Eventually, we rammed through the glass entrance of a bicycle store and collided with a brick wall, the impact sending me through the back window of the cab despite Miles attempting to grab my arm. I heard Mick ask if everyone was okay as I gingerly eased myself back into the bed of the truck, but as I pushed to get back through the window, I let out a noise and grimaced as my left arm buckled under me. “I’m not,” I claimed. “My arm hurts.”

“How bad?” Mom asked as Miles and Lugnut hopped over the sides of the truck to help get everyone out of the truck.

“I can’t push on it at all,” I replied with a shake of my head. Before I could say much else, I felt something latch onto my ankle and I was pulled toward the tailgate. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted one of the men from earlier had grabbed me. “Let go of me, asshole!” I shouted, kicking my free foot into the man’s chest.

As I was dragged over the broken tailgate, Miles rounded the truck, swinging a metal bar into the man’s head. Once the man was down and I was on my feet, Miles pulled his hoodie off and tied it around the back of my neck before helping me pull my arm through. “Try not to move it, alright?”

With a swift nod, I turned as Butchy addressed us all, “Get your bags and grab a bike from the racks. If there are others, we don’t have much time.”

I followed Miles to a rack of bikes and grabbed a mustard yellow one from the rack, but Miles put a hand out to stop me. “You sure you can steer with one arm?”

“I can try,” I replied. Following the others, I hopped onto the bike and pushed off, following as closely as I could as Butchy led us in whatever direction the GPS was taking us. We took a shortcut down a long dirt trail near some high-tension power lines, leading us almost all the way through the town of Waterford without seeing more than maybe five houses. We ducked around some small ponds that had formed in the valleys before finally reaching a paved road. The road led us into a more populated area, passing an inn with a rabbit on the sign as we let gravity pull us down the hill before Butchy yelled for us to stop. We all gathered around him, watching him explain that the overpasses we were coming to would lead us to a trio of bridges that led into New Hampshire. So, pushing our bikes toward the hill where the overpasses met the grass, we hiked up the incline until a loud bang echoed through the area, accompanied by a sharp pang of metal on metal.

We all ducked and, when I turned to the noise, I found the blonde man from earlier driving a truck full of gunmen straight for us. Okay, he definitely wasn’t as injured as he portrayed himself to be earlier. As the rest of us dropped our bikes and began running, Mick pulled the shotgun from her backpack and began firing back. I didn’t get to watch the gunfight, but Mick soon joined the rest of us as we pounded the pavement that led us to the bridges into New Hampshire. Nearing the bridges, I realized two things: one, two of the bridges had long since collapsed into the waters of the Connecticut River, and two, the only bridge that remained, was packed with rusted and run-down cars and trucks that had been trying to flee the town many years ago.

I followed the others through the mess of vehicles, finding our way through the lineup until we reached the halfway point and stopped. We were trapped between death and more death. Behind us was a group of maniacs with guns and ahead of us was a gap too far to jump. The bridge had broken in the middle and, looking down at the rushing water below, there was no sign of any vehicles - they’d all been taken by the river.

“Oh shit,” I heard Mick say as she backed away from the ledge.

“Fuck,” Miles snarled.

Butchy shook his head and looked back toward where the man was still shooting, “How many bullets do you guys have left?”

“They’re gonna kill us,” I argued.

“What other choice do we have?” Lugnut asked.

“We jump,” Bentley claimed, gesturing to the water below.

Miles quickly shook his head, “It’s too high for Mick and you can’t swim.”

Bentley and I looked over the edge at the rushing water. It definitely wasn't a small jump, but the water looked high enough that we wouldn’t risk hitting the bottom. Then, a loud screeching noise startled us all. We turned to see a fallen UPS truck get rammed not far from us, sending a small convertible tumbling into the water. The truck was here and they were going to kill us if we didn’t come up with something quick.

I felt Bentley grab my hand and, when I turned to him, he said, “You’ll keep me afloat.”

“Benny-” I tried, but I was cut off by the screeching noise as it echoed through the area

As the group rammed into the UPS truck again, Bentley tugged on my arm, “No time to argue, let’s go!” I found myself pulled into a run behind my brother, jumping just a second after him as I heard Miles and Mom yell, “No!” from behind us.

Falling from that height felt different than anything I’d ever done before. The wind around me whipped loudly and my stomach lurched into my throat as I looked anywhere but the water below. Glancing up, I saw other people jumping off the broken bridge and, as the freezing water surrounded me, I felt the current rip Bentley’s hand away from mine as I kicked toward the surface. As I broke through the surface of the water, I heard Miles yelling my name.

“I lost Bentley!” I yelled back, taking a deep breath before diving under the water again. It was hard to see in the murky river water and the current of the water didn’t help, but I was determined to find my brother. As I surfaced again, I swore I heard Bentley yell for me and Miles, but when I yelled back and got nothing in response, I kept swimming. Despite my efforts, I couldn’t find my brother. I surfaced again, sucking in a quick breath before diving back under the rushing water, reaching out for anything that could be Bentley. All too soon, an arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me to the surface, dragging me, kicking and screaming, to the shore. “Let go of me!” I screeched as the person dragged me onto what remained of a boat ramp.

Over the sound of everybody else yelling for Bentley, I heard the person holding me say, “Royce, it’s okay.” It was Butchy.

“It’s not okay!” I cried as he brought us both to the grass, “I need to find Benny.”

Before I could push away from him and make my way back to the water, Butchy grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me so I was facing him. “You’re not going to be any use to your brother if you drown!”

“Bentley can’t swim,” I declared. “He needs me.”

Butchy squeezed my shoulders and nodded, “I know, but we need you too. Miles needs you. Your mom needs you. We’ll find Bentley, but first, you need to stop for a minute and breathe, kiddo.”

“But-”

“Royce,” Butchy said firmly. “You have a strong head on your shoulders; think about it. If you pass out because of your asthma, not only will you not be able to look for Bentley, but also Miles wouldn’t be able to help look because he’s too worried about you. Do you want that?”

I could feel my resolve weakening as I tore my eyes away from Butchy’s and admitted, “No.”

“Good,” he claimed. It didn’t feel good. “Now, I’m going to help them look. Promise me you’ll stay on the grass.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Royce,” Butchy sighed, “look at me.” Bringing my gaze back to Butchy, I found a finger extended my way. “I’m being serious, kiddo. It’s too dangerous for you to go back in and I don’t want to lose you. Promise me that you won’t go back in the water to look for Bentley.”

The chilling wind reduced me to shivers for a moment, slapping me in the face with the harsh reality that we were living in. Eventually, I brought up my finger and linked it with Butchy’s, looking him in the eye as I said, “I promise.”

He seemed to like that confirmation as he soon pushed himself to his feet and practically flew to where the others were searching. I watched him go, joining the others as they searched the river. I inched my way over to the drop-off, looking over the cliff at the flowing waters of the Connecticut River. If Bentley was down there still, I should join him. It was my job to protect him. He had asked me to keep him afloat and I failed miserably. I could feel my chest tighten at the thought of my only younger brother dying. He was - no, no, he’s not dead until I can see that he is for myself. He is only fifteen.

I couldn’t remember the rest of the day other than the fact that we didn’t find Bentley by the end of it. The next day, we searched the water and I hoped for anything to signal that Bentley had been there, but I hadn’t found anything. Nobody had. We continued walking down the river until the water calmed and we reached a dam. The water was practically still and Miles supposed that he and Lugnut could jump in and look for Bentley. I was going to help since my arm wasn’t hurting as much, but they told me to just stay with the others. While the two of them were in the water, the others helped me pick out shiny rocks along the shore to give to Bentley when we found him. I think they were mostly humoring me to keep me from jumping into the river or going off the deep end, but it was nice regardless. Bentley liked collecting rocks and painting them for the people he cared about.

As we searched the dam control building a few hours later, Miles surfaced from the water with Lugnut not far behind him, one of them tossing a soggy book onto the rocks. I quickly left the building and headed down to the water, picking the book up and opening it. Inside, Bentley’s name was scrawled across the first page in the cursive that Mom had been trying to teach him. “That’s the only thing of his that we’ve found,” Lugnut admitted as he and Miles emerged from the water. Lugnut headed over to the small fire Butchy was using to cook the few fish we had caught during the day, but Miles stayed with me.

“Do you think he’s down there?” I asked in a hushed voice. I didn’t want Mom to hear me. She had been so distraught since the jump that I was worried she’d start crying at the thought of Bentley being gone.

“No, but I’m not really sure what to think right now,” he admitted with his hands on his hips. With a huff, he said, “We’ve searched all the way up to where the rapids end and he’s not in the water, but I think we’d both have some kind of gut feeling if he was dead.”

With a nod and a hum, I agreed, “Yeah, I don’t feel anything other than how shot my nerves are.”

Wrapping a drenched arm around me, Miles pulled me to his side and kissed the top of my head. “We’ll find him, baby, I promise.”

I nodded again and allowed Miles to bring us over to the fire where I propped up a stick and rested Bentley’s notebook on it so that it would dry. Butchy was doing something similar with Mick’s cell phone, turning it every minute or so. Eventually, the others came over to eat with us and we sat in near-silence as the fire crackled between us all. Once I was done eating and had moved the book again so it wouldn’t burn, I got up to walk along the water again. I made it about halfway to the dam building when I heard something almost like the rev of an engine and stopped in my tracks. I glanced to the other side of the river, wondering if the blonde guy and his group of buffoons had come back for us, but there was nothing there. Looking over at the group, I realized none of them were looking around, so I guessed they hadn’t heard it.

Shrugging it off as just a phantom sound, I continued my walk. Picking up a few larger stones for Bentley, I found one that looked almost purple and pocketed it for Vivien. She loves purple. As I neared the dam building, I heard it again - another rev - but this one was louder. When I looked back toward the others, they were looking around too, but as another rev roared, my gaze locked onto the small hill on our side of the river, where the sound had come from. There was a possibility that the group that had chased us, had made their way around the river to us, but why would they go through the trouble when a day or so had already passed since we jumped off the bridge?

All of a sudden, a set of headlights beamed at us from the top of the hill. I squinted at the vehicle just enough to notice the front grill of a rather large truck. I quickly ran back to the others, grabbing my backpack and Bentley’s book as the passenger’s door of the truck opened. As we began running for the water in the hopes of making it to the other side before they could catch us, the truck door slammed shut and a woman’s voice yelled, “Wait! We have your brother!”

I wanted to stop and question her, but Miles didn’t give me the chance, taking me by the arm and yanking me into a run with the others. “What if they really have him?” I asked him as we neared the river.

“They’re lyi-”

“His name is Bentley,” the woman’s voice continued. “He’s fifteen and he said you guys jumped from the bridge yesterday.”

Even that didn’t stop Miles from pulling me into the water, but it was the voice that came soon after that stopped all of us. “Guys, don’t leave!”

The voice was quiet, but I’d know it anywhere.

I slowly turned and saw a girl with pink hair running down toward us, unarmed. “He’s in the back of the truck, I swear. Some of our fishermen spotted him floating in the dam and brought him to our community.”

Butchy moved so he was standing between us and the girl, “Can we see him?”

“Of course,” the girl panted. She took a deep breath and turned back toward the truck, yelling, “Jules, bring him over!”

Soon enough, the truck began moving, making its way down the hill toward us at a fairly slow pace. Eventually, the passenger’s side of the vehicle pulled in front of us and the blonde girl in the driver’s seat said, “He wanted to ride in the trunk.”

I yanked my hand out of Miles’ grip and hurried over to the truck as Bentley’s head popped over the side. “Hey, RJ,” he said as I pulled him into a hug.

“Hey,” I said before pulling away. I looked him over and realized his right leg from the knee down was wrapped up with something orange. “What’s that for?”

“When we jumped,” he began, sliding his way to the edge of the truck with a sigh, “I hit a metal bar under the water and broke my leg.”

“What is it with the two of you getting injured all of a sudden?” Miles asked as he joined us. “First Royce’s arm, now your leg.”

Bentley smirked, accepting a hug from Miles as he said, “What can I say? We like giving you a run for your money.”

Miles shook his head and, after a while of reuniting with our brother, the two girls invited us to go back to their community so they could discuss Bentley’s injuries away from the border between Vermont and New Hampshire. With all of our things and people loaded into the truck, the girls brought us into their town called Littleton. The blonde driver was wheelchair bound, but she operated the gas and brake pedals with one hand and steered with a knob on the steering wheel. When I asked her about it, she told me that her dad commissioned one of the workshops in town to make it accessible for her and she’d been using it ever since.

She drove us past some regional hospital that Bentley said they had brought him to and let us out at a hotel called Hampton Inn. The driver’s side slid out from the body of the truck and lowered to the ground so the driver could wheel herself out. She was around Mick’s age and the back of her wheelchair had her name, Juliet, stitched into it. Juliet was the one to lead us into the hotel, bringing us to a conference room near an indoor pool. As we entered the room, I noticed a man sitting at the end of the table, working on some paperwork. “Dad, we found them,” Juliet said as she wheeled her way over to her father.

“Good job, honey,” the man said, setting aside some papers and turning his focus to us. “Quite the group you’ve got here.” I saw his eyes flicker between each of us until he stopped on Bentley. “How’s the leg, young man?”

“It’s alright,” Bentley claimed, resting his crutches against the table and pushing himself to sit on it. “Itchy, but alright.”

The man hummed and nodded before folding his hands together on the table. “Welcome to Littleton,” he said. “My name is Mark Harmon and this is my daughter, Juliet. I was the Town Manager before the outbreak and the people of this town selected me to continue leading them through the infection. We’re about three thousand strong now.”

“Do they all live in this hotel?” I asked.

Mr. Harmon shook his head. “Not at all. Most residents kept their homes. Those who didn’t live here originally can choose to stay here or in one of the old houses that we’ve fixed up over the years.” I nodded and Mr. Harmon continued, “Now, on to the topic at hand, because of his,” he pointed at Bentley, “broken leg, I do suggest you stay here until we can take off his cast in a few weeks.”

“How many weeks is ‘a few’?” Lela asked. “We’re supposed to be going back to Massachusetts.”

“It all depends on how well he lets it heal,” Juliet replied. “The usual is around six to eight, but depending on physical therapy and all of that, it could be closer to maybe ten and twelve.” She wheeled herself over to the wall and examined the calendar there. “Six would be mid-July, eight would bring you to late July or early August, and ten to twelve would be middle and end of August.”

“August?” I echoed. Juliet nodded. Vivien’s birthday was in August. I didn’t want to miss her birthday. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I missed her birthday?

Miles placed an arm around my shoulders and tried to reassure me that we’d be back at the stadium in no time, but just like with the Canadian borders, I doubted that was true. Juliet showed us all to our rooms, giving us key cards for each room and telling us what there was to do in the hotel before wishing us a good rest of the day and wheeling herself away. Miles took Bentley to explore the place while I stayed in the room. I took full advantage of the shower while they were gone and just relaxed on the bed I had picked for myself while they were gone. I finally had an opportunity to think about the rollercoaster I had lived on for the past few days and, when everything finally hit me, I was grateful that the others were gone. I didn’t want them to see me like that.

My birthday came and went and, eventually, June turned to July. Bentley’s tests at the eight-week mark came and the doctor told us that he needed to wait a little longer before they could take the cast off. They did physical therapy with him until his cast finally came off on the seventeenth of August. He was able to get around just fine at that point and was more than excited to jump into the pool that he’d been teased by every day for the last ten weeks. We stayed an extra night there before letting Juliet drive us to an old car rental place that they allowed residents to take cars from.

Butchy picked out a minivan since there were no trucks and we all piled inside. Once Mick had her newly repaired phone plugged into the charger port and turned on, the entire car was filled with the sound of alerts coming in at a rapid pace. She quickly turned the volume off and waited until the alerts finally stopped before letting us look at her phone. Her voicemail box was full, she had well over 100 texts, loads of voice messages, and pictures had been sent as well. With a sigh, she started with the voicemails. Almost all of them were from Vivien. The ones that were, she let us hear as well. At first, they were simple: “Hey, just letting you know I miss you. Bye.” Then, they began mentioning other people: “I’m in charge of some kid named Kona now. She’s a little spitfire. You’d love her.” Eventually, though, Vivien’s messages lacked any semblance of hope that we were coming back: “Kona, Erica, Jade, and I are visiting my old town in New Hampshire. You would’ve loved it. Maybe we can come back here when you get back… If you decide to come back… Before you left, you had told me that you guys wouldn’t be gone long, but it’s getting pretty close to a year and I’m not so sure anymore… I hope you’re still alive and that Canada is treating you well. I’m gonna go. Love you. Bye.”

It hurt to hear her sound so upset. I began wondering if she’d heard our messages yet; if maybe our signal was strong enough to get through to her phone as well. By June, the voicemails stopped. Mick moved on to reading the texts that had come through, letting us see the occasional picture as she read the messages aloud. In December, we saw pictures of Vivien and this girl with her hair cut short - Kona. There were pictures from each of our birthdays and some holidays. It was nice to see that Vivien wasn’t alone through it all. Then came June. One of the only messages in June had come through in the early hours of the day after my birthday. It was a video about two hours long. Mick turned the volume up and the video’s audio began playing through the speakers.

“How is everyone doing tonight?” Miles’ girlfriend asked, earning her a roar from the crowd. Squinting at the phone Mick was holding, I could see Vivien in the background. She was sitting at her drums, smiling at the crowd as she pushed her earbuds in.

As the video zoomed in on Vivien, I heard a girl’s voice say, very quietly, “There’s my roommate. This is her friend’s band, Rogue Static. Carrie asked them to play for her concerts. They’re pretty awesome, but this is my first time on stage with them.” The music began and the camera zoomed back out, showing the whole stage as the girl behind the camera, presumably Kona, said, “Sorry, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy the show!”

We watched the concert as it played, but when we stopped at a rest area in Sanbornton, New Hampshire, Mick paused the video. “You know,” Mick said to me, “Vivien used to live here in Sanbornton. I don’t know what street, but she told me about this big house with a treehouse out back and a lake not far away.”

“It would’ve been nice if we knew where the house was,” I replied. “I’d like to see where she grew up.”

Mick nodded, “Like she said in one of her messages, maybe we can go there on a trip or something for the weekend.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

For the rest of the ride down to the stadium, we watched the concert and talked about what we would do when we got back. Mick filled us in on the protocol that we would have to go through and how long it might take to get us to get everything done. She seemed excited to be going back, but then again, so were we. Maybe, if we were lucky, we’d get the same rooms we had before. If I was lucky, Vivien would want to go out tonight. If not, maybe we could just hang out anyway. I know Bentley missed her too, maybe she wouldn’t be opposed to having us hang out as friends. It wouldn’t be the best outcome, but it would be a positive outcome, all the same. I don’t know what I would do if she said she didn’t want me around at all… No. She’s my friend. Even if she didn’t want us to be together as a couple, I doubt she’d deny me as a friend.

We pulled up to the gates around the stadium and, as soon as the guards saw Mick in the passenger seat, they opened the gates, speaking on their walkie-talkies about something I couldn’t hear through the car windows as we drove past. Butchy drove until we reached the parking lot just outside of the stadium, parking in a spot that wasn’t too far off from the stadium doors. By the time we had everything out of the van, I heard someone yell, “Makana!”

I looked around before seeing Mick’s parents running over from the stadium. Mick yelled their names in return, dropping her bags and running over to meet them halfway. Looking around, I felt a tightness in my chest as I realized Vivien hadn’t come with them. Maybe she was mad at me for coming back so late. I couldn’t blame her if she was; I broke a promise to her and I never do that. Before I could think too much about it, Miles placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled reassuringly at me. “Don’t worry, she’s probably busy with Carrie and her band.”

I had a gut feeling that wasn’t the case, but I forced a grin and nodded, “Probably, yeah.”

We followed Mick’s parents into the stadium and up to her dad’s office. The first matter at hand was getting us into rooms and, while ours wasn’t the same as it had been, it was only a few doors down which wasn’t bad. After bringing all of our things to our rooms, we met back up in the hallway where Mick’s dad’s office was and Mick told us that Vivien and her roommate weren’t in the room the three of them now shared. She didn’t seem too worried about it, giving us the same idea that Miles had given me - they must be with the band.

By the time we had finished writing out statements as to what had happened, it was late and we still had yet to see Vivien or anyone else that I knew the name of. We stayed in our new rooms for the night and went through the motions the next morning. We went down to breakfast, but Vivien never joined us. I didn’t see her anywhere. Around lunch, I found one of her teammates - Erica, the one with the bright blue hair - and she seemed surprised to see me.

“We said we’d come back,” I said when she asked me what I was doing there. “We got back yesterday.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied, “it’s just ironic.”

“What is?”

“You got back the same day Vivien left,” Erica answered.

I froze. “What?”

“Viv left for vacation,” Erica shrugged. “She’s been really depressed over you guys being gone for so long. She left yesterday morning with Kona and Carrie.”

“Where did she go?”

Erica thought for a while before letting out a long breath, “I’m not sure, but I’d probably guess her home up north. Sanbornton, I think.”

We went through Sanbornton yesterday afternoon. Vivien and I were so close, but so far. Maybe we could go find her. “Do you know what street?”

“Not a clue,” she sighed. “I wasn’t paying attention. Your best bet would be to ask Mr. Birch or maybe Viv’s parents.”

I quickly thanked her and took off in a run for Mr. Birch’s office, slamming the door open when I got there. Mick was already there, tearing into her dad for something when I stepped in. “Why didn’t you tell me that Vivien had left already?”

“Don’t bother,” Mick huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “I already told him off.”

“If you had known,” Mr. Birch began, “you would’ve insisted on leaving that moment. However, we have to follow protocol - written statements, medical exams, and all of that. I was only going to keep it from you until after all of the work was done.”

“But, Dad-”

With a shake of his head, Mr. Birch cut his daughter off, “Mickie, honey, can you honestly say that you would’ve stayed if I had told you?”

Mick looked ready to argue, but after a moment, her mouth closed and her posture straightened, “No.”

“Exactly,” he replied. Mr. Birch leaned forward in his seat and pulled a phone out of his back pocket. “Now, I will let you know that I have it in good faith that they made it safely to Sanbornton.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

Mr. Birch turned his phone toward us, showing us a picture of Vivien and Kona sitting on the porch of a house, cups of something blue in their hands as they chatted. “Carrie has a phone on her and has been taking pictures almost constantly. Yesterday, they went mini-golfing. Today, they’re swimming in the lake.”

Mick examined the pictures before nudging my arm and saying, “Come on, Royce, if we leave now, we might be able to get up there before dark.”

As we turned to leave, a man moved into the doorway and Mr. Birch spoke up, “Not so fast, you two.” When Mick and I turned back to him, Mr. Birch was watching us with that disappointed parent look that I knew all too well. “You can leave after your group gets all of their exam reports back.”

“What?!” Mick and I exclaimed.

“That’ll take a few days,” Mick claimed.

“I’m aware,” her dad replied.

I scoffed, “Why do we need them if we’re just going to leave again?”

“It’s protocol,” he said. “Regardless of whether you’re leaving again or not, we must follow the rules of the stadium. I don’t want to have to ask guards to follow your every step for the next few days because you’re considered flight risks.”

Mick’s hands returned to her hips, “We don’t need babysitters.”

Brady’s face pulled into a smile as he said, “Then stop acting like children. I know how much you want to see Vivien, but you’ve waited this long already. I’m sure you can wait just a few more days. If you find that impossible, I’ll ask Jacob here to follow you around until you’re clear to go.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the man I assumed was named Jacob, finding him standing with a blank expression on his face and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Meeting Mick’s gaze, we sighed and shook our heads. “Fine,” I said.

“You win,” Mick agreed.

Mr. Birch shook his head with a sigh, “I wish this wasn’t the way it has to be, kids. I don’t like playing the bad guy.”

“You’re not the bad guy,” I brushed off.

“Yeah,” Mick said with a nod. “You’re just following the rules.”

Mr. Birch nodded our way, but I don’t think he took our words at face value. “I’ll let you know the moment the reports have all come in.”

Mick and I nodded and after we were dismissed, she walked with me until we reached the room I shared with my brothers. Once we were inside, Mick said, “This is bullshit.”

“It is, but what can we do about it?” I replied. “Your dad can always have that dude follow us around. As much as I don’t want to wait a few days, I think that’s our only option.”

Mick sighed, “You know, he wouldn’t even tell me the name of the street they were staying on. He knew I would’ve taken off - with or without a car.”

“I would’ve too.”

“Now we’re stuck waiting until he gets those stupid reports back.”

For a while, Mick and I talked, trying to find a way around her dad’s rules, but we found nothing. In the end, we decided to wait it out like he told us to. During the few days we spent in the stadium, I double and triple-checked the gifts that I had brought for Vivien, making sure they were in good condition and working order. I was able to box and wrap them once I made sure they were alright, keeping them in my backpack so they were ready to go when we were ready to leave.

The reports came in on the twenty-third, the day after Vivien’s birthday. As soon as Mick got the address from her dad, we grabbed our things and all eight of us piled into the vehicle they let us borrow. It took us nearly two hours to get to Sanbornton and I kept an eye on the street names every time we turned a corner. We turned onto Gray Road after only a few minutes and we looked down each driveway in search of the blue convertible they had taken on their trip. Finally, Bentley spotted a bright blue convertible parked by the porch of a big house and Mick quickly pulled into the driveway, parking next to the blue car.

As the group of us got out of the car and made our way toward the house, a blonde girl around Bentley’s age came onto the front porch, wielding a shotgun. From the pictures we’d seen at the stadium, I could tell it was Vivien’s new roommate, Kona. She took a few steps closer, peering at us down the barrel of her weapon before lowering it and letting out a very soft, “Holy shit.” She looked us over for a moment before holding out a hand and telling us to stay where we were. Kona pulled a phone from her pocket and aimed it at us before snapping a picture and disappearing into the house once more.

Not long after, Kona reappeared, Carrie’s arm locked in her grasp as she dragged the older blonde onto the porch. As soon as Carrie saw us, she dropped the cup of juice she’d been holding and ran down the steps, all but flinging herself at Miles, knocking my brother clean off his feet. I turned to Bentley and we both shook our heads and smiled as the pair got back to their feet. After some rather rushed conversation with Miles and being introduced to our mom, Carrie finally addressed the rest of us, “You have no idea how great it is to see all of you again.”

As everyone else gave their own greetings in return, I asked, “Where’s Viv?”

Carrie’s eyes locked on me and I watched as her neon smile faltered before she quickly covered it up again. “She’s making lunch.” Carrie turned to Kona and asked her to bring Vivien outside and the young blonde nodded before entering the house.

I watched the door, hoping to see Vivien through the glass panes. Bentley elbowed my arm and when I turned to him, he told me to stop staring like a creep. In response, I rolled my eyes and tried to tell him to shut up, but I was cut off as the door opened and I heard Vivien laugh, “What’s going on?”

Turning to the front door of the house, I felt a smile creep onto my face as I saw Vivien turn toward us. Her braids had purple mixed in and, as soon as I saw the matching purple glasses on her face, I felt the urge to run over and hug her. I took a few steps closer, “Hey, Vivi-”

“Don't,” Vivien interrupted firmly, holding a hand out as her smile disappeared. I stopped, my excitement replacing itself with nervousness. “Please don’t come closer.”

“What’s wrong, Viv?” Mick asked.

Vivien shook her head and turned to Kona as she said, “I can’t do this right now…” She turned back toward the house and opened the door, but before any of us could say anything to stop her, Vivien took in a breath and looked our way before saying, “I’m glad you’re back safe and I’m happy to see you, but I’m going to need time to adjust, okay? Just… just leave me alone for a bit.”

Mick tried to call out to Vivien as she disappeared into the house, but Carrie stopped her from moving any closer. “She’ll be fine,” she told Mick. She turned to Kona and asked her to make sure Vivien wasn’t on the main floor of the house before saying, “Let’s go to the living room and talk about this.”

Mick looked ready to argue, but Carrie led the way inside without another word, leaving the rest of us to follow wordlessly. The group of us joined Carrie and Kona in the living room, taking up much of the furniture. The TV was playing some kind of documentary on the Titanic which quickly got paused. Carrie and Kona spent the next two hours filling us in on what Vivien went through while we were gone. They answered any questions we had and explained the rollercoaster of depression and anxiety that Viv had been on since we left. Carrie explained Vivien’s attachment to her phone and how, one day, she got sick of constantly checking it for answers and locked it in Carrie’s safe, explaining how she never got our messages when Mick could finally turn her phone back on. We ate lunch with them and, when the time came to bring Vivien a plate, I asked Carrie if I could go with her.

“I don’t know, kid,” she hesitated.

“Please,” I requested, gesturing to the backpack I had left on the floor, “I just want to give her the gifts I bought her while I was gone. I don’t even have to talk to her or see her if she doesn’t want me to.”

Carrie glanced at the backpack before looking back at me, adjusting her grip on the plate of food she held. “Fine, but I’ll go in first and ask her if it’s alright. If it’s not, we leave, okay?”

I quickly nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

Carrie’s scrutinizing gaze scanned my eyes for deception before she simply nodded and said, “Alright.”

As soon as her back was turned, I grabbed Mick’s phone from the counter and pocketed it before taking the gifts out of my bag and following Carrie. Instead of leading me upstairs like I thought she would, Carrie brought me to the backyard through a sliding glass door. I followed her past a small garden and a little pond before reaching a large beech tree with a wooden house perched in its branches. Carrie told me to stay put as she climbed the ladder into the treehouse, making her way from the outer deck into the house. I tried to listen to them and see if I could make out any conversation, but I couldn’t.

I stood in the grass, watching a few squirrels chase each other through the backyard until I heard the door of the treehouse creek open before closing again. Looking up, I found Carrie on her way back down the ladder. Once she was on the ground again, Carrie put a hand on my shoulder and told me, “Good luck up there, Romeo.”

Carrie was dating my brother, did she really not know my name? “My name is Royce.”

Carrie’s eyebrow raised as a look of utter confusion flashed across her face. “I know. It’s a book reference. You know, Romeo and Juliet?” At my shrug of confusion, she sighed and shook her head, “I‘ll let you borrow the book later. Just get up there before she changes her mind.”

I quickly thanked her before making my way up the ladder. The outside of the treehouse had multiple names carved into the wood next to the door. A swirling Louis took the very top spot, followed by Damien and Ashley, then, under those names were Vivien and her siblings, Abby and Oliver. Three generations of O’Brians had used this treehouse. I smiled as I knocked on the door of the wooden house.

“Come in,” I heard Vivien say. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, finding a cozy little setup inside. The tree house had obviously been made with the knowledge that the O’Brian children would have probably wanted their parents to join them in the tree every once in a while. The inside of the tree house was fairly big, allowing a two-person loveseat, a coffee table, and some wooden stools to fit inside among the chaos of toys and pretend kitchen sets. Toys had been neatly sorted into two different plastic bins with labels on the side to indicate who owned what. A dulling green bin had a paper taped with clear packing tape that had Abby and Oliver’s names written on it in an adult's handwriting. Next to it was a purple basket with the same style of taped-on paper that Viv’s name in slightly messier writing. All in all, it was a very family-oriented treehouse.

I spotted Vivien sitting on the floor on the far side of the treehouse, looking out the large window that gave her a view of the nearby Lake Winnisquam. She glanced over her shoulder at me and waved, “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied as I closed the door behind me and made my way over to her. “How’s the food?”

Vivien shrugged, stabbing her fork into a piece of kielbasa, “It’s good. Did you have some?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. There was a silence between us that I thought would never end, so I took in a breath and tried to fill it, “So, this was your home before the shit hit the fan, huh?”

With a nod, Viv said, “Yep. This used to be my dad’s parents’ place, but they were going to let us take it over. We had only just moved in before the outbreak started and we stayed here until I was eight.”

I chuckled, “That sounds nicer than where we were when I was eight.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Me, my dad, and my brothers were living in the basement of our neighbor’s house. I hadn’t seen much of the sun in two years.”

“Wow,” Vivien breathed. “Sounds shitty.”

“It had its ups and downs.”

Vivien hummed and the silence returned. I watched the water in the distance, spotting seagulls and other birds diving down for food or water before resuming flight. Once Vivien had finished off the rest of her food, she set the plate aside and said, “You know, I am happy to see you guys again. I just wish I had time to prepare myself.”

“I tried sending you texts, but I didn’t know you had given Carrie your phone,” I replied, trying a smile. Leaning to the side just enough to wiggle the cell phone from my pocket, I unlocked it and scrolled to the top so Vivien could read through the messages everyone had sent. I held it out to her and said, “Here.”

Hesitantly, Vivien took the phone from my hand, “Mick’s phone?”

“I sent you texts almost every day and called you whenever something big happened,” I explained. “You’ll have to wait to hear the voicemails I left you, but the texts and pictures are still there.”

For the first time since she knew we were there, a true smile appeared on Vivien’s face. “Thank you, Rolls. I think I’ll look through them later, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” After a moment of smiling at each other, I moved away and brought the presents into the space between us. “Now, here are your gifts.”

Viv eyed the wrapped boxes with wide eyes before asking, “What in the world are these for?”

“For the holidays I missed,” I explained. I pointed to each one as I said, “This is for Christmas, this one is for Valentine’s Day, and this one is for your birthday.”

I smiled as Vivien let out a soft laugh, “I got you gifts too, but they’re back at the stadium.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“Neither did you,” she laughed, “but I guess we both thought too highly of each other to not do anything at all.”

“I guess so,” I replied with a chuckle. After a brief pause, I gestured to the gifts and said, “Go ahead, open them.”

Vivien looked over the gifts before asking, “Are you sure? We could just wait until we get back to the stadium and open them together.”

“It’s up to you,” I shrugged. “If you want to wait, we can, but one of them was supposed to be here yesterday, so if you want to open just that one, that’s fine too.”

“I was trying to be nice to you and you’re teasing me with gifts?!” Viv whined, “Royce, you know I’m a weak woman when it comes to gifts!” I watched with a grin as Vivien contemplated her options. Eventually, she let out a long sigh and grabbed the purple box, “You officially suck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I brushed off as she began peeling away the wrapping paper. “Love you too.”

Vivien stopped, holding a half-peeled section of wrapping paper as she smiled over at me. “You love me?”

“Of course I do,” I stated. Suddenly feeling a wave of uncertainty come over me, I started to ask her if she felt the same way, but I was cut off.

“I love you too,” Vivien smiled. As she returned to her gift, she said, “It’s nice to hear it said back instead of just saying it and getting empty air in response.”

I grinned, “You would’ve heard it a lot sooner if you had your phone on you.”

“True,” she nodded, “but I like that I heard it in person first.”

As Vivien peeled away the last of the paper, she opened the lid of the box and set it aside before looking in. Her eyes grew wide as she pulled out the shirt that I made sure was on the top. After staring at it for a while, she took off her glasses, wiping the lenses on her t-shirt before putting them back on. When she was still silent, I cautiously asked, “Do you like it?”

All she said in response was, “You got me a Titanic shirt?”

The shirt was tie-dye and had an image of the Titanic sinking with the words “Ship Happens” in black letters underneath it. Was it too cheesy? Maybe she didn’t like joking about something so serious. “I’m sorry. I know you really like the movie, so I thought that maybe you’d like-”

“It’s Titanic, Royce, I love it!” she squealed. “I’m going to wear it when we go back to the stadium. My dad is going to be so jealous!”

I let out a sigh of relief as Vivien held the shirt up against her, smiling down at the sinking ship. “You should look in the box again,” I suggested.

Vivien chuckled, “What?” I nodded to the box. “Royce, you didn’t have to get me more than this. I’m happy with just the shirt.”

“And I’m so glad that you are, but I got a bit carried away when I saw all of this stuff,” I claimed nervously. “I may have gone a bit overboard, but I hope you like them all the same.”

With a confused grin, Vivien shook her head, folded the shirt, and set it next to her before pulling the box closer and looking inside. The smile on her face when she pulled out the brand new headphones for her Walkman didn’t go unnoticed and I had to smile when she excitedly looked through a few books I had picked up for her to add to her collection, but the best reaction I got was when she found the cassette I had taped to the bottom of the box. The cassette itself was an almost neon purple and had once played some 90’s rap music, but Mémé had helped me get rid of the rapper’s music and the song lists on either side of the tape before we filled it with other songs.

“What is this?” she asked.

I snorted, “I thought you, of all people, would know what a cassette is.”

“You know what I mean, dipshit,” Viv said with a roll of her eyes.

With a chuckle, I nodded, “It’s a mixtape. It’s some of the songs I like and some of the songs I knew you like all wrapped into one. My grandma, Mémé, helped me make it before we left.”

Without a word, Vivien set the cassette down and moved the boxes out of the way before launching herself at me, bringing her arms around my shoulders as tightly as she could. Wrapping my arms as tightly around her as they would go, we stayed like that on the treehouse floor for what felt like an eternity. Neither one of us wanted to be the first to pull away, especially not after so long away from each other.

Eventually, though, Vivien leaned away, wiping her face with the heel of her hand as she chuckled, “You’re an asshole.”

“But I’m your asshole,” I retorted. “You’re stuck with me for at least a week.”

“A week?” she questioned as I took her hands captive. “Why a week?”

With a smile, I explained, “You promised me that, when I came back, you wouldn’t want to leave my side for at least a week.”

Viv’s smile returned with a vengeance, capturing every inch of my soul as her eyes met mine with a mischievous glimmer. “Is that so? You see, I distinctly remember a certain someone promising me a real kiss upon his return and that, also, has yet to be fulfilled.”

Releasing my grip on one of Vivien’s hands, I cupped her face in my hand and smiled, “That’s a shame. Too bad that person could never be me since I am a man of my word.”

“Oh, really?” Viv asked in return as she leaned closer to me. “Care to prove that statement?”

“I’ve never done this before, you know,” I informed her.

“Neither have I,” she said with a shrug, “but we’ll figure it out together. Trial and error and all that bullshit.”

Sending her a smile, I nodded. I suppose I could lie and say that what happened next was the greatest thing in the world, but really, it was anything but. I leaned in too fast, we smacked foreheads in the middle, and I ended up knocking her glasses clean off of her face. While it was certainly memorable, it wasn’t glorious or even remotely magical like they describe in books. If anything, it was awkward, painful, and we both ended up laughing about it. Once our laughing fit was over, I asked to try again and, in the end, our first real kiss was a lot slower and felt far more relaxed than the first attempt, which I think both of us were grateful for.

We talked for a while longer before going inside so she could reunite with everyone else and finish watching her documentary. Vivien spent a lot of time getting passed around like a basket of bread at a fancy restaurant before eventually setting herself into a spot next to me on the chaise part of the couch. At one point, she got up to get herself a drink and, when she came back, she settled herself into the space between me and the couch, wrapping an arm around my middle and leaning her head against my chest as we watched the show.

Once the sun had set and everyone began getting ready for bed, Kona, Bentley, Vivien, and I went outside with a few blankets to watch the stars. We talked and caught up on everything that had happened to each of us until Mom called us all inside and we each went to bed. For the rest of the trip, we stayed in a house just down the street - a log cabin with high ceilings, enough rooms for all of us, and a pond out back that we all went swimming in a few times. We returned to the stadium when Vivien’s trio did, falling back into the same habits and routine that we had during our first stay in Foxborough, Massachusetts.

After almost a year had passed, we made a trip back to Canada - with Vivien this time - and showed her around to all of the spots we had been to during our last visit. We even made the time to see the museum in Nova Scotia that Pépé had told me about. We made it back over the border before the lockdown and decided to make it a yearly trip. Even Mick’s parents were on board with it and made the trip with us a few times. Most of our time was spent in the Patriot’s stadium, taking trips to Canada, but we did spend extended visits in Canada just to get away.

All in all, I think things turned out alright for us. My brothers and I had found our family in Canada, Butchy and Mick were reunited, Lugnut ended up teaching a class in the stadium with some girl he liked, and Lela found out that she and Miles were dating a pair of twins - Tanner and Carrie. And, of course, I had Vivien by my side. After our reunion, we spent almost every minute of our days together - not that I minded in the slightest.

I guess we both kept our promises in the end.

#Through The Valley

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