One - Ella

"You've got to be shittin' me." As if the words weren't harsh enough on their own, the bite behind them was enough to have me convinced. This man hated me. He didn't so much as know my name, but his mind was made up. I could only imagine what he'd say when someone told him who I was. I wanted to flinch away. Actually, I wanted to cry a little. I'd experienced my fair share of hate and dirty looks in the last year, but not from someone who I'd never seen before - who'd never seen me and obviously didn't know me. He was so cute too. No, cute isn't the right word, he was freaking hot.

Yes, I knew it wasn't really the right time to be noticing things like how attractive this jerk was, but it sort of slapped me in the face. Somehow, the blow of having him hate me was only harder because he was good looking. Call me childish, but was it really so awful to wish he was missing teeth and had a giant nose and a bad case of adult acne? Probably. But it would have made his anger at my very existence easier to take.

I stayed sitting in my chair, too nervous that if I spoke up I'd end up in tears. He looked like the kind of person who'd make me cry. So, I sat there while the giant jerk with admittedly great hair - great hair that I wanted to shave off his head while he slept - talked about me as if I weren't there. It only made matters worse that my boss and the two other men in the room - both of whom looked equally skeptical of me - were there to witness the whole thing.

"She's going to get someone killed," he said and for added effect, slammed his hands onto the desk. Dr. Bethany Summers flinched back, shocked by his aggressive nature. She, like me, had spent most of her life in labs -something that had earned her the spot of top research scientist at Hudson Military Installation. Not that there had been a great many people lined up for the job. Even if there were though, after spending the better part of a year working as her assistant, I couldn't have imagined anyone more intelligent. It wasn't Dr. Summers' fault we weren't making progress. She was nothing short of genius. We just needed something... more. Which is why we'd hunted down and called in the best running team on the base.

And that hadn't been easy.

I wasn't entirely sure what runners did with their time, but I knew that group did a lot of it. We waited weeks for these three men to get back to the base so that we could try to convince them that our idea was worth the risk. And it was a risk, even for them.

"If we're lucky it'll just be herself and not any of us."

Wow. I blinked.We hadn't expected this to be easy. The units were exclusive, kind of like the mean girls in high school who only let you in their group if you were the prettiest and had lots of money. Except, instead of being pretty, slutty and having money, you only got into this club if you were a gun-toting, knife-wielding, zombie-killing badass. I wasn't any of those things. Hell, I didn't even drink until after my twenty-first birthday and about the most bad ass thing I'd ever done was... well, I did kind of, sort of start the zombie apocalypse. In some circles that might be considered a little bad ass. But not in a good way. The point is, I was pretty lame and he was right, there was a good chance I wouldn't survive outside of these protected walls. That's why I wasn't going to go alone. It's why I needed him and the two men flanking either side.

But, just because I needed these guys didn't mean I was going to sit there while one of them said we'd be lucky if I got myself killed. Didn't his mother teach him that you have nothing nice to say, to just shut the hell up? I stood up, taking a deep breath and willed myself to seem more confident than I was. I would not earn respect by crying in front of these men.

"Did you forget that I'm in the room, or just not care?" I asked, proud of my surprisingly steady voice. Inwardly, I smiled, feeling all, I am woman, hear me roar. Based on the look that the jerk gave me, he didn't care one bit about my inner pride. From his expression, I should have kept my shut, but I'd reached my limit. That line was drawn firmly at some arrogant caveman suggesting it would be good luck if I died.

He didn't say a word but the guy to his right offered an apologetic smile. I didn't know his name, but he didn't have the great head of hair, his dark hair was kept shaved close to his head. It struck me as odd because he was larger, bulkier and had a good inch or two on the main jerk, but it was obvious he deferred to Kyle Russell: Zombie Killer Extraordinare and Total Jerk. I wished he'd been the one in charge though. Despite his size and intimidating appearance, his eyes were warm and even skeptical of me, his lips remained tilted up on one side, like he found the whole thing sort of amusing. I got the feeling he didn't take much in life seriously. Probably why he wasn't the one running things. Dude-with-a-'tude closed the space between us until he was looming over me. If his goal had been to intimidate me... well, he was successful. My breath caught in my chest.

"You ever seen one of those things?" His voice quiet, calm, but there was a quality about it that was altogether terrifying.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not embarrass yourself in front of taller, hotter Dean Winchester.

I had seen one of "those things" before. I saw one before the rest of the world had. Before they were plastered all over the news and before anyone realized that what we were dealing with was something straight of a George Romero movie. But that wasn't information I shared with anyone lest a lynch mob appear, so I'd let him believe whatever he wanted. It wasn't uncommon for people at Hudson to have never seen a zombie, so his question wasn't unfounded. Hudson Military Installation was it, all that was left of the civilized world, or if it wasn't, we had no way of knowing any better. Located in the middle of nowhere, it became a refuge for anyone looking. Thousands of people rushed in and escaped the world before it got too scary. They all, like me, had an in. They were tipped off to get the hell of wherever they were before it became impossible to do just that. Many of the people living in the re-purposed cargo containers that acted as what everyone hoped was temporary housing went about life as though it had never changed. They still thought of zombies as ridiculous horror movie lore.

Instead of answering his question, I changed the approach. I doubted he cared if I'd seen one or a hundred. His mind was made up about my survival instincts, I had to prove myself some other way. "You think you can look at a series of specimens and pick out H-26 with complete certainty? You know what differentiates it from the others - the tiny, minute structural changes that make it a completely unique virus?" I paused for an answer that I knew he wouldn't give. "Because you can't just throw a few dozen deadly viruses in your bag and bring them back here, if you mishandled one or they fell into the wrong hands, you'd be responsible for wiping out what's left of the human race."

I wanted to tell him he didn't need that kind of burden. No one does.

"And you can?" His voice was filled with skepticism. As the youngest person working in the lab, I could actually understand that he questioned my abilities. It shouldn't have even really bothered me because I had spent my entire life having my abilities questioned, but for all he knew I was a damned genius. "You help patch knees a few times a week and you think you're qualified to handle this shit?"

Before I could jump to my own defense, Dr. Summers stepped in. "I would not have suggested Ella join you if I didn't know she were completely capable of the task Mr. Russell." I'd been helping Dr. Summers work to find create a vaccine since I'd been at the base. She was the closest thing I had left to family and I was sure she felt the same, so it didn't surprise me that she came to my defense. Lots of people have their own little dirty secrets, they think they've screwed up something major and never want the world to know about it. But until you can say you were part of a team that brought about the end of the world, you don't really get it. She was one of about two people who knew my secret and she would protect it.

"It's fine, Dr. Summers," I said. I took a deep breath because what as coming next was going to suck. But they weren't too keen on this little trip... desperate times, desperate measures and all that. I had to trust my gut and the hope that even if these guys hated me, they were reasonable human beings. Hudson was filled with units of soldiers or ex-soldiers who geared up once more to fight the war against zombies, but the three men in the room with me were supposed to the best. They had the most missions, least failures, and not a single fatality in the last year. They were the shit. So, like them or not, I wanted them to have my back and the only way I knew to get their trust was to earn it. Reveal a secret that could have had me burned at the stake like a witch. What could go wrong?

I looked up at Kyle Russell and met his cool blue eyes head on. When I spoke, I tried my best to sound confident and proud and nothing like the scared little girl saddled with the guilt of the world I was. "Considering that I'm the only living person who has actually worked with H-26, I'd say I'm qualified to handle this shit."

His mouth snapped shut and if I weren't trying hard not to shake from nerves, I would have done a happy dance. I'd struck him speechless. Was it too much to hope maybe he would stay that way? His expression was unreadable, but at least his eyes weren't so frozen. I guessed that the realization you were speaking with someone who helped create zombies would be a little sobering. Dr. Summers excused herself as soon as she was sure they weren't going to kill me. But since she was a fairly non-confrontational person, she didn't want to stick around for the argument and I didn't blame her. She had better things to do. And she needed to secure a backup in case these men refused to take me.

"You worked with H-26?" It wasn't Kyle Russell that finally spoke. It was his right hand man who uttered the question. Relief that absolutely anyone else in the room decided to speak filled my entire being and I stepped around Mr. Russell, brushing his shoulder as I passed him. I didn't stop until I reached the giant, but friendlier man.

"I'm sorry," I said. "We haven't been properly introduced."

"Miles Scott." He introduced himself with a handshake and an amused glance over my shoulder where I'm sure his friend was fuming over my blatant disrespect.

"Good to meet you, Miles. I'm Ella." Deep breath. "Fairchild."

His smile dropped faster than a strippers panties and the room grew so quiet, I was sure I could hear each one of their hearts beating and positive they could all hear mine pounding against my ribcage. There wasn't any more to say. Shortly before the cities all fell and the broadcasts ended, Dr. Richard Fairchild became a household name. He was the lunatic who released H-26. He was the one who started all of this... or ended it, so to speak. I like to think it was an accident, but the truth is I'll never know anything but that he was the one responsible. And I'd looked up to him. I had idolized him.

Dr. Fairchild was my father, but he was never really a dad. He was always a scientist and nothing more and he tried his darndest to make sure I was the same way. So I was... am... And I beat out a hundred other applicants for a position as his intern. Not because I was his daughter - blood never mattered much to him. I earned it. For the first time in my life he didn't eye me with disappointment when he announced I would be his intern. He looked... as proud as I think he possibly could.

And then, six months later, I learned the truth.

Dr. Richard Fairchild wasn't an idol. He wasn't an angel in human form. And he wasn't saving anyone. What I thought were drugs being created to cure diseases were actually weapons being created that could destroy mankind. All to be sold to the highest bidder. That, at least, is what had been broadcast all over the news and in every paper. I don't know the truth anymore than anyone else.

I never knew much about him. Maybe everyone was right and he was crazy or evil. Maybe he didn't think what he created would be so globally destructive. Or that it would be used against us. Or maybe he really just didn't care. It never mattered to me. I was either the daughter of the most evil or the most idiotic man to walk the earth. Not a great title to have.

Everyone sort of took a collective step back from me as if my evil might have rubbed off on them if they stood too close. I braced, waiting for the moment someone would yell a battle cry and they'd all attack.

"Right," Miles drew out with a snap of his fingers. "I knew you looked familiar." He looked over my shoulder with a wide toothy grin. "Ky! Man, I told you I didn't sleep with her." He sounded so proud of himself for that and I felt the corners of my lips twitching despite the heavy tension in the room. "I just recognized her from the news." He was talking about one of the pictures they'd broadcast all over of my father in his lab. His assistant, Demetri and I were standing on either side of him, looking a mix of proud and humbled to be working with such genius. Dr. Fairchild was the main story but Demetri and I were footnotes, a part of his team and equally to blame in the eyes of the media... the world... in our own eyes as well.

Demetri... he didn't handle it well. Neither did I, but he really didn't handle it well. Terrified of either of the blame, the guilt, or the end of the world, Demetri put a bullet through his brain about the time New York City went black.

"She did all this?" The last of the men, whom I had dubbed at the strong-silent-type demanded jabbing his finger in my direction. When he began to storm toward me, I didn't even think to move. The five feet of space between us was something he closed quickly, not leaving me much time for a reaction. I swallowed as I looked for an out wondering if I'd have a better chance running to my right or left, because I'm pretty sure this man had every intention of slamming his fist into the face of the creator of zombies. Not that I could really blame him. He stopped about six inches in front of me and I took a step back, not even caring that he knew I was scared. "It's you're fault those fucking things exist?" He paused, waiting as if he truly wanted an answer. So I gave him one.

"Yes," I admitted.

He shifted to move forward again, his arm raising. I heard a muttered curse and suddenly the path between anger personified and me was blocked. Kyle Russell stepped in front of me, very deliberately blocking the man's path. I relaxed the slightest bit and released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I didn't think he liked me, but he wasn't letting his friend kill me, so I assumed that had to be a good thing.

"Take a walk, Joel." Really, I was just glad his scary-mean voice was no longer directed at me. Joel did a much better job of not cowering or looking like he wanted to cry. For a second he actually looked like he might try to take on my protector to get to me. but then he threw an arm out in frustration and walked away. "Miles?" Miles turned to Kyle, at full attention. I wanted to ask just who the hell this guy was that he demanded so much respect, but since he was currently keeping me from harm, I figured it was best to not offend him. "Any issues with the mission?"

Miles looked me over, measuring me up, I guess, probably determining how long he thought I'd last outside the safety of the fences and walls that protected us. He let out a deep chuckle and crossed his arms over his chest. "This one won't be easy to keep alive. Figure you probably need some help." I might have taken offense, but before I could, he winked at me to let me know he was joking. The two men clapped hands and had some sort of silent conversation.

"Wait," I said. "You'll take me?"

"You need this virus to try to save the world, right?" Miles asked and I quickly nodded. "Now, see, the three of us, we like to save the day. It'd be a shame to let anyone else help save the whole damn world. And we don't want you getting your pretty face chewed off."

"How kind..."

He laughed, loud and boisterous. "Ain't trying to be kind, princess. Just honest."