It’s difficult for me to think that Gabe would be so willing to give me up to Paxton, especially since I had broken into Headquarters because of his curiosity. Gabe and I had become friends. It had been a slow transition from him being the guy that frisked me and stole my gun, to being the only person I felt comfortable talking to. Even though it wasn’t his job, he was the one that made sure I was comfortable. He was the one that made sure I understood how Crestwood worked - where to get food, who to talk to about work, the general rules of everything. I started to see him every day. Eventually, we started eating meals together. It felt like a truly blossoming friendship. But neither of us talked about each other’s past. These days, talking to someone about their past is touchy at best. You already know it’s going to be a sad conversation. You already know it will involve death, tears, and regret. A year after the outbreak, sure, people talked. Two years in, people talked less. Three years in, you don’t tend to ask unless you are that person’s best friend. Of course, it’s different with other people. There are some who still ask, but I only ignore their questions. I never ask anymore. I find that the more I know about somebody, the more I don’t want to lose them…the more it hurts when I do lose them. Shallow cuts hurt a lot less than deep ones. The more I learn about someone, the deeper the pain I feel when I lose them.

I never ask anymore.

My knife is securely fastened to my belt, and I hold my rifle with both hands, my right nearest the trigger. Gabe makes sure I have plenty of extra ammo and I stuff the bullets into an easy-access, side pocket of my backpack. He also hands me a duffel bag and I pull the strap over my head and let it hang across my back over the backpack.

“We splitting up this time?” Mendez asks as he checks his gun’s ammo.

Gabe shakes his head. “This time we’re staying close together. Skip and I have the longer blades, so we’ll walk in front.” He nods at me. “The rest of you can follow behind and be ready for my orders.” His eyes look sharply at Paxton. “If that’s all right with you,” he adds.

Paxton holds up a hand and shakes his head. “I’m following your orders out here,” he says with a grin.