Chapter 7: Walk Of Life

"Go out to Runner Three," Sarah says. "Get Carina back."

"Is there really no chance?" Sam asks.

"I always thought you'd be here."

"We're here," Paula whispers.

"I'll be waiting."

"...the minute Van Ark smashed that machine."

"Clean through the temple."

"I have you."

"Last thing I want to do is come back..."

Sam places his hand on my shoulder, and I open my eyes, bringing me back to reality. I look at his face, seeing the concern in his eyes. "Five, are you ready?"

Sarah laughs. "Five's always ready."

"Have you... got it?" Janine asks.

"She always comes prepared."

"You know," Amelia says, looking out at the open gates that are clear of zombies, "I think this is a rather good idea. Why not do this properly? The Ministry was very willing to supply the guards to keep the area clear, especially given the very useful leads you've been able to give us about Comansys. Yes, it sends the right message. They have to draw up a quick memo about it when we get back."

"We don't bother with memos, do we, Five?"

"Do you know where we're going?" Jody questions, brushing back a small strand of hair from her face.

"When do we ever?"

Paula looks down sadly. "She was a good person."

"Sometimes."

Owen nods. "She showed me the ropes, bruskly."

"That's the way you needed them shown."

"She hunted down murderers and torturers," Louise says.

"When I had to."

"She died saving a lot of us," Janine says, her voice sounding clogged. She closes her eyes for a short second, and I know it's an attempt to keep from crying.

"Careful, Janine," She says in amusement. "Save some for later."

Sam's hand leaves my shoulder, and I feel a bit colder. "This is it then. I've got the ashes. We've got the map of where she wanted them scattered. New Canton is keeping our path clear. Are we ready to go?"

Everyone nods and gives a word of confirmation, and I find myself doing the same. I sound so... lifeless-dull. No one notices it though.

"One thing I've learned, Five, is no matter when you go, you're never, ever ready."

"Let's go," I whisper, and we run.

Our steps aren't very loud, but they pound into my head. It feels as if there's a weight on my shoulders. The weight of the world-that's what most people say. I think the weight of grief is much heavier. It's been months, but right now, it feels as if it could've been yesterday.

I still remember it-her dying with me at her side. I remember the last smile she gave to the world that is nothing but chaos and pain. I remember that heart wrenching moment when Paula said, "She's gone."

I try not to show the pain on my face, and I can tell some of the others are doing the same. Of course, there are no smiles, but there are no tears either. I'm not sure Sarah would... would've, I guess we could say since she's dead-well, kind of dead since she still likes to speak to me... But I'm not sure she would've wanted us to cry over her.

She might've, since she did have a sensitive side. She never showed it to me, but I've heard how others spoke of her.

The closest I've ever heard her speak about emotions was when she spoke about her sons... but she rarely spoke of them. 'Showing emotions shows that you're weak.' That's what the one of the Commanders at the A.M.T.B. told me after I cried during electroshock treatment. It was a part of the torture I was to be put through to see if I could keep government secrets if caught by any rebel organizations.

That's a saying I learned to live by for a long time. I wonder if Sarah, in a less extreme way, believed that saying too.

"It's pretty out here," Jody says, looking up at the sky, the trees. "Never thought of her as someone who liked prettiness."

"The headland we're running toward is a place she used to come with her boys before the apocalypse," Janine says.

"Oh, sailing, yeah?" Owen smiles wistfully at the thought. "She told me about that. She said she was always happiest on the water."

"She sounded like quite the all 'rounder, your Runner Eight," Amelia says, clicking her tongue. "Sad loss. She would've been invaluable in the rebuilding efforts."

Louise looks unsure on that statement. "I don't know. Times I spoke to her, she didn't seem much for rebuilding. Not that she was hopeless, but like-"

"She wasn't very optimistic about people," Sam interrupts, giving Louise a questioning glance. She nods, as that seems to be what she was trying to say. I can't say I disagree with what Sam said. She really wasn't, but I kind of understand that. Given the amount of people I've met, there's been very little that were good at heart. "I remember she told me once that if we managed to fix this-"

"We'd just manage to get ourselves in some other kind of mess," Jaime finishes, and I'm a bit shocked he spoke up. Not that he's silent. I just didn't know he knew Sarah that well.

"It's funny what people remember," She says. "You remember me differently than others, mostly because we trained and ran more than talked about our problems. But we both know neither of us would've been the best listeners in that type of situation-not for each other, anyway.

"But what they remember... I think it was just because I was the only one honest enough to say what we all thought."

"You know what else though?" Jody asks. "She made really, really good banana pancakes with like, banana flavored Nesquick and crushed up banana chips in them."

Sam nods. "Ah, yeah. Those were amazing, and they tasted so banana-y, because the likelihood of any of us seeing a real banana again in our lifetime is pretty low."

"My boys loved my banana pancakes. I remember them begging me to make them on school mornings. 'Just one. We'll be quick.' 'They are weekend treats,' I told them, 'and all the more special for that.'" She sighs sadly. "Afterwards, I wish I'd made them everyday. But you can't go back. You remember me telling you that, don't you, Five? Remember what else I told you? About the place you're going to now?"

I remember.

"I knew you would."

I'm surprised I do. With the pain and cold and evil in that cell, I'm surprised I remember anything besides the lashing of those whips as they hit my skin and the ache after the Warden's fist hit my face. But I do. I remember, and I know the main reason she wants... wanted...  wants us to take her ashes there is because of what she's told me.

I'm not sure how I should feel about that really.

The breeze is a bit chilly, but nothing too harsh. Soon enough I'll have to be wearing the sweater Jody made for me last year to keep warm, or at least, keep from being too cold. But still the sun is out, even if it doesn't exactly feel like. The light reflects off a coin up ahead. Out of instinct, I grab it, gaining a few glances and a small smile from Jody and Sam.

I place it in the pocket of my backpack. I'm the only one wearing one today, since New Canton and the Ministry are helping keeping the path clear, so no need for weapons, and there's nothing for us to pick up. At least, that's what everyone thinks. I gave them an excuse about doing it just in case something happens to go wrong. That way one of us will be prepared at least.

But I'm using it for something else. I using it so I can fulfill Sarah's wish, and then she'll leave me alone. At least, she will for a long while. And that's what I want. I already have enough problems to deal with. I don't need to add 'hearing the voices of dead people in my head' to the list.

Maybe I really am going crazy. I mean, if I am, I guess I've lasted longer than I thought I would. Wes gave me two years max until I cracked. I thought it'd be less than that. Guess we were both wrong.

We made bets on him too. I thought he would last maybe four or even five years. His bets were on three and a half, because if I went crazy, he'd go crazy not far after. That's what he said anyway.

Too bad we never got the chance to find out. I kind of wish it was his voice talking to me instead of Sarah's, but there's nothing Wesley could say that would help me-his spirit or my mind's version of him. That's what I'm trying to figure about Sarah-or her voice.

I still have yet to figure out what this voice is, and it seems that she isn't going to tell me. Although, I haven't exactly asked yet either, so that might be part of the reason as to why I have no answers. But I just started talking back yesterday, and this is all really weird to me, so I think I should be given some slack, right?

Yeah... I'm probably going crazy. Although, I thought the same thing about those dreams I had as Chrysalis.

"This is... bracing," Amelia pants. Drops of sweat are forming on her forehead, and her makeup is starting to melt away. "Always jog everywhere, do you?"

"It seemed fitting," Janine answers in her professional tone. "A gentle run as a tribute to Runner Eight."

She nods. "Ah, yes. You're quite close-knit here at Abel, aren't you? They said so at the Ministry of Recovery. 'Unusually attached to one another for a group of survivors.'"

"That's how we've stayed survivors," Jody replies flatly. Sam laughs lightly, and she gives him a raised brow. "What?"

"It's just... well, for a moment you sounded just like her," He answers with a lazy shrug. "Eight-Sarah."

She snorts and nods in understanding. "She was always so serious. I remember once I got into a tangle with a stitch. She was watchin' me tryin' to unpick it all, start again and she said-"

"Let me guess," Owen says. "As tangled as the human heart."

"No. She went, 'If only we could unpick our lives and start over again.'"

I wish.

"That was her alright," Janine says. There's a soft smile on her usually cold face, but there's a deep sadness in her blue eyes. "Come along, Miss Spens. There's a shortcut through here if you want to cut short some of the distance."

Jaime nods. "Runners, we'll take the long way."

"Just like we always do in life," Sam adds.

God, we sound like those poets who used to meet in the night clubs-the ones that played weird jazz music.

The thought makes me smile a bit. Thinking about Owen or Jaime wearing those turtlenecks and burettes is pretty funny, but I quickly push it away. Now isn't the time.

"That's the spirit," She says.

"I wasn't wrong though, about what I said. There so many things I always thought I'd do-so many I thought I'd never do, and so much left unfinished. But you can help me with that, Five. You're the only I could trust. You have to carry on what I started."

I want to scream. I nearly do at the sudden frustration that springs up in my mind.

What if I don't want to carry on what you started, Sarah?

Does she-or whatever this voice is in my head not realize I have a shit-ton on my plate right now? I don't even know that much about what she started. I just know what she wants me to do now, and a few other things that in all honesty, sounded like riddles.

I don't know what exactly she wants me to pick up, or how it will be useful. I'm just doing this so I can have a piece of my sanity back, if it's even there anymore.

I keep my eyes ahead, trying to ignore the anxiety gnawing at me, making my chest hurt and my brain frantic. People aren't usually afraid when going to a place to honor someone who's just died, but I have no idea what I might find when we get there. It must be important, but my version of important and Sarah's version of important can be a bit different.

I'm trying to keep a straight face, but the attempt is a waste. My lips twitch, and my jaw keeps trying to lock up. But, everyone around me is simply taking this look as me grieving and not doing the best job at hiding it. So for now, at least, no one suspects a thing.

And I hope to keep it that way until I've gotten the job done.

"That's my Five," Sarah says, and there's a smile in her voice.

But there's no smile coming from me, because it hurt. It hurts that I'm never going to hear her say that to me in the real world ever again.

•

"Ah, this is more Runner Eight material," Owen says, the wind that smells of salt messing up his hair. "Bleak, barren, the cold landscape of stone and water... and bloody seagulls." He grits his teeth as one flies too close for his liking. "Get stuffed, seagull!"

"Just us runners now," Jody sighs, and Louise looks a bit uncomfortable.

"Do I count?" She asks.

"She counts if she's running."

"If you wanna join us, that's good enough for me," Jody answers, and Jaime nods.

"Yeah, before this I was never a joiner. I don't join stuff. Know what I mean?"

"Still, we lose runners all the time; We're glad to have ya, and we uh..." She looks over at me. "We had something to ask you, Runner Five."

I blink, tensing slightly at the nervous expression on her face. I swallow thickly. "Um, alright."

"You know," Owen starts, "we decided after Runner Seven left, we had that convo and thought we'd ask Runner Eight to be our new Head of Runners."

"Not gonna happen now, is it?" Jaime frowns.

"That might not have worked out so well," She says a bit awkwardly. "I had some... difficult friends. You'll have to deal with them now. Remember what I told you. Remember I said I didn't trust them."

Oh, I remember. The only thing is 'them' isn't that specific, and while she did mention a few people-a few groups-one of them being... it doesn't matter right now. She never really gave me reasons why she didn't trust them. She just said she didn't.

But why are they bringing this up now? What does not having Sarah being able to be Head of Runners have to do with-oh.

Oh no.

"So uh, we wanted to ask you, Five," Jody says.

I try playing dumb. "Ask me what?"

"To be our new Head of Runners."

Well, shit.

"M-me? But why? I'm the youngest runner in Abel, a-and I've only been here a year and like, three months," I panic, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. They want me to be Head of Runners. They want me to be a leader.

She nods. "Yeah, I know I've been here longer, but it's not about length of service, or how old you are. It's just someone that everyone trusts, you know? Respects. And you have to want it. I don't want it. I'm more of a follower than a leader, but we think you'd be good if you want it."

I stare back in shock, nearly tripping over my own feet as I run. "I..."

"You don't have to answer now. Just think it over."

"That's my Five," Sarah says again, and I cringe. "Stay quiet. Have a good think. We're nearly there."

We meet up with Janine and Amelia, and the blonde looks pretty tired in all honesty. I think everyone looks a bit sweaty, with hair frizzy and faces flushed. I'm sure I look that way too, but I've been too busy worrying and thinking to realize I was actually getting tired.

I still am worried, and I know all I'm doing for today is getting something. But still, I'm worried about whatever it is Sarah wants me to get. Knowing her, it could be anything-weapons, information, military documents, codes for secret underground vaults. It's a mystery.

"It's good here," Louise says, her eyes scanning over the waters that are so close I can feel the mist of it hit my face. "Open skies. I can see why she liked it. It feels like freedom."

Sam nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I feel like that's who she was most of all really. Maybe a bit secretive-"

"Private," Janine quips. "She was a private person."

"Yeah. That-that's what I meant. Private, but also I remember her saying to me once that she felt most alive when she was out running."

"A lot of us feel like that," Jody sighs. "When you're out runnin' for Abel, you know you're doin' somethin' important. It's just you and your legs and how fast you can run."

I nod. "Yeah, it... it gives you a sense of independence."

"Independent," He says. "That's what she was."

Janine keeps her gaze toward the sea as she hums in agreement. "Yes, fiercely. She didn't want to be in the Forest of Fallen Runners; Eight wanted to be here."

"And," Amelia starts, taking the urn from Sam's hands and holding it out to me, "I believe she wanted you to do the honors, Runner Five. She was quite clear about that as I understand."

With shaking hands and a clogged throat I take the urn, holding it tight to make sure it doesn't slip from my grasp.

"That's the jetty out there, leaning out across the marina, lined with rocks. You see it?"

Yes.

"You remember."

"Shit," I mutter, before pointing off to the far right of the jetty. "Look."

The mood of almost everyone changes from sad to annoyance when we all focus on the small pack of zoms heading toward the path to the jetty.

"This is why I bring a weapon." I pass the urn back to Sam, since the last time Amelia had something she broke it, and I think Janine might kill her if she were to drop this urn. I actually know she would. "I have an axe. I'll take care of it."

"No. we'll come up with you up to the jetty, on her guard," Janine says, pulling out two pistols from... somewhere. I should've known she'd bring something, but where did she hide them? Actually, I don't want to know. "No way any zoms are getting in the way of this."

"Give me your axe," Jody says. "I'll help in keeping the zoms off when the get closer."

I sigh, and grab my axe. I take back the urn from Sam after passing the weapon to Jody.

"Be good if we brought that thing, aye?" Owen asks. "The one that keeps the zoms away."

"We've managed to get it working again," Jaime says, a small smile on his face. "Seems to stop goin' wonky if no one touches it. They've got it on a high shelf in the rec center. It's keepin' the kids safe. That's why I can go out runnin' again."

Amelia's eyes light up at the mention of the device. "Ah, I have a little good news about that. In the light of your discoveries in the Comansys HQ, it's clear to see we won't find your people at any of their bases since they've obliterated all traces of themselves. The Ministry has been scowering the countryside for any evidence of people using Comansys technology, and we've turned up some rather useful leads already, including another group-"

"This... isn't the time," Janine says in a low voice, and the blonde straightens up.

"Ah, yes, of course. First thing's first. We run in formation toward the jetty."

We pick up the pace, since we slowed down to a mere walk while talking. Janine hands one of her guns to Owen, saying that they'll head for the oncoming zombies once we reach the jetty.

"I'll take your gun and help," Louise says. "You knew her better than I did. It's probably better if you see Five finish the job."

Janine contemplates the idea, then nods and hands the gun over. "There seems to be only a few. You should be able to do the job fairly quickly."

She nods, and when we reach the jetty and come to a stop, Owen, Jody and Louise start off towards the zombies that are slowly but surely making their way toward us.

"Ah, I always wanted to end up here," Sarah sighs, as if she can smell the salt in the air and hear the sounds of the ocean.

Maybe she can. I'm not too sure about this kind of stuff. It's actually very confusing, especially since I have no idea whether or not she's real or if this is just my mind.

"It's right for her to be here," Janine says, her voice wavering. "Wild and free-just as she was. Go ahead, Runner Five."

I take in a deep breath and look down at the urn in my hands, before starting off, listening as my feet patter against the wood. It's almost time.

"What do you think then, Five? Head of Runners. I'd have done it myself, but maybe you'll be a better choice than me. Maybe not. I was bloody good."

I've gone about halfway down the jetty, since this is the area she told me to put her if anything ever happened to her. I open the urn, and see the ashes of my friend who I will never see again until I go into the afterlife. Tears spring to my eyes, but I rapidly blink them away.

I don't have time for crying, not when I haven't completed the task at hand. I turn the urn upside down, watching as the ashes fall into the ocean to be swept away.

"That's it. I always wanted to go back to the ocean. Give me a good shake... I see Janine's crying."

I look up, and she's right. Janine is crying, and isn't doing any effort to hide it either. Of course, no one is trying to comfort her. Not because they don't care, they've just never seen Janine cry, and don't know what to do.

"Probably do her some good. She's too stiff. Good. Run along to the end of the jetty. They'll think you're taking a moment."

I set down the urn, briskly walking inside of running. Running might not make Janine or Louise or even Jaime suspicious, since they've not seen me cry, so they'll think I'm trying to salvage my pride in running off. Sam, on the other hand, has seen me cry more than once. He'd know something's up.

"You can shelter that last bollard from view with your body. A part of me thought you might've forgotten, but the smarter part of me knew you wouldn't. The top unscrews. You can take it off and reach inside. Try to look as if you're tying your shoelace."

I do as told, reaching inside the bollard as discreetly as I can, and pulling out a small box, all wrapped up tight. I won't be able to look at it until I get back to Abel. Trying to open it now would take too long and would raise suspicion.

What is this?

"It's for you. I hope you'll never have to use this, but you'll know when the time comes."

Sarah, what is this?

"You'll find out when you get back. You really have taken over for me now. It'll be you who'll have to go after Comansys. You'll do alright, though. I have faith."

I sigh looking at the small box in my hands, then back at the people standing at the end of the jetty, waiting for me to come back. I feel the spray of the ocean hit my cheek, and it almost feels like a gentle hand. I close my eyes and sigh.

"That makes one of us."

A/N: Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!