Chapter 82: I've Got A Dream

"Aren't you tired at all?"

"I'm never tired."

"Then why do you sleep?"

"I think people would get pretty suspicious if they never saw me sleeping."

I hear Sam chuckle over the headset, and I can picture Milo rolling his eyes. He's not supposed to be talking to me. Janine said this is a mission of the upmost importance, and we can't have any distractions, even when we're resting, but Sam's been allowing Milo to sneak in here after everyone else has already gone to bed, just so we can talk for a few minutes each night.

I'm thankful for that. There's only been a few times where I've been out of Abel, and I've missed my kids terrible all of those times. I'm glad I get to talk to Milo, at least, even if I don't get to talk to Penelope since the younger children have been given an earlier bedtime.

"Where are you exactly?"

"Just outside London. We found an old abandoned house and Max and I are using it as shelter tonight, after checking and making sure there were no zoms around, of course."

"Yeah. We have to make sure zombies don't get too close to Abel. Well, I don't, but yeah. Lots of the runners go out everyday to be a distraction, but they don't do it as well as you could."

I laugh. "Thanks. But I'm not all that. The only reason I'm on this mission is because of the fact that immune to mind control."

"Yeah, but that's a good thing. You're the type of person we want on our side and only on our side."

While Milo's words are meant to be a compliment, I flinch.

"So, what gave you been up to since I've been gone?" I ask, eager to change the subject. "You haven't been bothering the runners too much, have you?"

"No, but I have been bothering Sam whenever he's not talking to you."

"Yeah. You and your kid have multiple things in common, one of them being  you never leave me alone," Sam says playfully.

"Oh, shush. You love me," I reply.

"Yeah, but I never said I loved your little hellions."

"Hey!" Milo yells while Sam giggles like a child. I find myself smiling. It's nice, teasing and playing with each other, hearing laughter when everything around is falling apart. It's sort of like... God's way of showing me that there's still good in this chaotic, evil world.

"Anyway, what have you been up to since I've been gone?"

"Nothing too story worthy," Sam replies nonchalantly, but I shake my head.

"No, no, I want to know what my favorite boys have been doing since I left Abel."

"Well, Sam's been helping me and Penelope with homework, but he doesn't like it." Milo lets out a small huff. "I don't get why he hates it so much. I mean, weren't you an engineering student?"

"Yeah, a failing engineering student," He snarkily answers, causing me to giggle. "But yeah, your children have decided that while you're gone I become their caretaker. But don't worry, I've made sure to be a good fill-in-mom. Milo and Penelope are still making good grades and eating their vegetables."

"Good to know," I say, voice laced with amusement as I push myself up against the pillows of the bed I'm in. It's large-a queen size, which is large compared to the twin sized bed I sleep in at Abel, especially since I have it to myself. Maxine took the bed in the room down the hall.

I'd much rather be back at home, with Sam, with Milo and Penelope, even if it means sleeping in a smaller bed. It's so... lonely here.

"Plus we've been doing Bible study."

I straighten up in surprise. "Bible study?"

"Yeah, you know, sitting down, reading a passage, talking about it. We've been doing it every night. The kids insist on it since you're not there to read to them."

"I-I know what it is. I'm just surprised you agreed to it since you no longer believe."

"With everything that's happened, my faith is... up to debate. Oh, and Jody's got Penelope into knitting, so that and the farm and the greenhouse keeps her occupied, and I've made sure Sport here hasn't been sneaking off to the track."

"That you know of," Milo mumbles.

"Oh, I know of a lot, like how one of the reasons you haven't been running off to the track is because you've been running off to the labs instead."

"The labs?" I repeat, raising a brow. "Since when have you been interested in that?"

"Since a certain someone came to temporarily stay at Abel-ow!" He winces after a loud thwack rattles through the air, and I stiffen slightly as a name passes through my head.

"I know you're supposed to tell my mom what's going on, but embarrassing me will only make me inclined to tell her all of your secrets too."

I don't know whether to laugh or be worried about the seriousness of the thirteen-year-old's threat. Sam chuckles, albeit a bit nervously. I think the little bit of time he's spent with the young brunet has shown him how devious he can be.

"Joke's on you. Five knows basically every embarrassing thing about me."

"Don't tempt him, Sam," I say. The smirk in my voice is obvious. "He probably has dirt on both us. He'd be a good spy."

"I know I would be a good runner if you'd let me become one," He says.

"When you're older, maybe."

He mutters something that I don't understand, and I hear Sam gasp.

"What?" I say. "Is there something I'm missing?"

"Uh..." Sam mumbles, and I narrow my eyes, even though neither of them can see it.

"Sam, what did he say?"

"I don't even think he knows what he said," He replies quickly. He sounds just slightly terrified.

"I don't, but I'm like, ninety percent sure it's a cuss word in Chinese," Milo murmurs, and my eyes go wide while Sam makes some kind of angered noise at him.

"And where did you learn that?"

"Sam says it whenever me and Penelope burst into the coms shack unannounced."

"Sam!"

"What? I knew you'd kill me if I cussed in front of them in English!"

"That doesn't mean you can cuss in front of them in a different language." I rub my temples. "Jesus, I forgot you even spoke a different language."

"Five, I am Chinese."

"Yes, yes, I know. But the fact that you speak Chinese slips my mind since, well, you rarely ever say anything in it. Just don't curse in front of my children in any language, alright, Samuel?"

There's a long pause. "Okay, as long as you promise to never call me Samuel again. That's actually more painful than any scolding you could give me."

"What do you mean?"

"Because you never call me Samuel, just like I never call you by your full name."

"You don't even know my full name."

"I do," Milo interjects. My heart stops, and I hear Sam choke. The air suddenly becomes tense and I know the lighthearted banter and playful conversations are done with, the confession changing the atmosphere from fun to intense within a split second.

"What?"

I've never heard so much shock, anger and pain in one single word.

Milo stays silent. He knows he's messed up. In his attempt to be cute and playful he messed up, said too much, and he knows it.

"I... think I should be going to bed now..."

"Yes, I think that would be best." My voice is low, frustrated.

"I... goodnight. Love you."

"Love you too. Goodnight."

There's an awkward silence as I hear the coms door open then shut quietly. And then even more silence after that. All I can hear is Sam's breathing. It's quiet, but the irritation and frustration makes it just loud enough for me to hear.

"He... knows your name?" Sam says quietly.

"Yes... in my defense I told him after Willis died. We were both grieving and he said that Willis told him that he had a secret that only he and I knew and-"

"Wait. Wait. Wait. Are you saying Willis knew your name as well?" He scoffs. "Bloody hell! Am I the only one who doesn't know your name?"

"Don't be dramatic," I reply. "And it's not that important anyway."

"It is since you want to keep it a secret."

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to think of a way to get myself out of this situation. This isn't how I wanted this night to go. After everything I've been through today, I was hoping tonight I would get to have a nice talk with one of my kids before getting to go to bed where I'd hopefully have a nice, peaceful sleep with no nightmares to come at me.

But when do things ever go as planned?

"We've talked about this. There's a reason I don't want people to know my name. If you knew where I was from-"

"Yes, I know. You're afraid if we find out about that undercover organization you worked for that they'll find out you told us about them and that they'll come kill you. But it's me, Five! You can trust me! I've kept all your other secrets. And I know you don't like to talk about who you were, but-but you trusted your children with this information, and it hurts that you trust them and not me."

"I do trust you, but I know Milo won't try to do any research. He won't try to figure out where I came from. You will. I know you will, and I don't want you knowing what they made me do-what they did to me..."

"Why?" He asks after a long moment of silence. "You were a kid, Five. I'm not going to-"

"I was kid. I was a kid who did terrible things to innocent people, because I thought I had no choice. I know that seems not so bad, but I can barely bring myself to think about what I've done. I can't have you knowing... not just because you may look at me differently, but also because I know you'll ask me about it and I can't relive it again! I can't... relive the pain and hurt I caused... the pain and hurt I went through."

I bring my knees up to my chest, images of bloodshed and smiles made of lead and iron and eyes filled with pride because of everything I'd become flashing through my mind.

"Then why didn't you just lie?"

There's a beat of silence.

"What?"

"Why didn't you just make up a name-a new name? Why just go by Five? Why not start fresh, start over with a new name, a new life?"

"Because..." My voice shakes, and I have to choke back the tears as memories of what I don't want to think of yet also cherish deeply come to mind, "because if I start fresh, I forget about everything-everything at Mullins and the AMTB, and everything from before... if I start anew, then I'll be letting go of the life I had before the apocalypse, and I can't do that... not just yet."

Sam doesn't say anything for a long time, and I begin to wonder if he's even still there. I stay quiet, staring into the darkness, waiting for a reply that I'm not even sure will come.

"Do you plan on staying nameless forever?" He asks. He doesn't sound angry-no. He's just tired, tired of the arguing, of the guessing games and riddles. I sigh heavily.

"No, just for now. You know more about me then anyone else does, Sam... You know my visions. You know that I have a sister. No one else in Abel knows that. I've told you more about the AMTB and the undercover operation within it than I have anyone else. It's only a matter of time before you find out the truth about my name, who I am... but I can't tell you, not yet, not now."

"You act as if I don't know you at all. I know you, Five. I know you're a good person even though you think you're not. You have to know you can tell me anything. Tell me all your faults and let me care about you anyway."

"If I decided to tell you all my faults then we'd be up all night," I say, slight humor in my voice. There's still tension between us, and I shift uncomfortably because I don't feel as if it's fading.

This is not how our fights normally go. We argue, but it slowly dies down until we're talking normally like the argument never even took place. There's never really any seething or going to bed angry. The fight never gets resolved, not really, but neither of us ever think of it as a fight that was left unsettled. It sort of just settles itself out as our conversation continues.

"Don't try to flatter yourself."

"How would I be flattering myself by naming my faults? Saying that I have hazardous beauty?"

He snickers, but it's dryer than normal. It's forced, as if we're trying to continue the cycle, but it's not working. "Never heard that one before."

"Oh, yes, didn't you hear? I'm so pretty people walk into walls because they were looking at me instead of where they were going," I say with a very awkward and very forced laugh, trying to settle the lingering tension that just won't leave us.

I don't like it. I don't like when we fight. I would tell him my name if I could... but I know Sam. I know he'd slip up, on accident of course, but still it would happen, someway, somehow. And I can't have that.

But I know how Sam takes things to heart. He doesn't try to hide his feelings, and him learning that other people know things about me-things I refuse to tell him-is a hard blow.

I swallow my pride, cringing as I do so. "I am sorry. I know in a way I shouldn't have told Milo my name. Willis found out by accident and Simon read my file... I... if it came to it, for me to tell anyone who I was, who I am, it would be you. It will be you. Please know that."

I get no response.

"Sam?"

"I-thank you," He says quietly, a smile in his voice. I sigh in relief, feeling as if a weight has been lifted off my chest.

"So, still feel like talking to me now that that's settled or..."

"Yeah. Yeah," He answers, almost too quickly, before pausing. "Unless you don't... I mean, I guess you are pretty tired. Maybe I should-"

"Samuel," I say, biting back a wicked grin at the soft grunt of annoyance I hear through my headset, "I wasn't kidding when I told Milo I don't sleep."

"Yeah, well, I'd really rather not see you pass out on from exhaustion while on a crucial mission," Sam says. "I'm young, but the stress that would put on my heart just might kill me."

"Are you trying to say I'm going to be the death of you?"

"You most likely will be."

I hum. "Yes, well, I'll try to be good. You're my favorite operator so far. I'd hate to lose another good one."

"Another?"

"Anna was a good operator. She's the one who taught my sign language after I lost my voice. She was bubbly, funny-like you, although she wasn't as good looking."

He laughs. "Is this your way of flirting with me, Five?"

"I never flirt. I just talk and people take it as they will. I do mean what I say, though. You are by far the best operator I've had."

He laughs again, although it's less confident this time. He's flustered. "Good to know... but I was just asking because I wouldn't want to make anyone jealous. I know you do have your eyes on a certain someone here in Abel-someone who you want to keep secret even though I'm fairly certain it's Adam."

"If it is I'm not telling. You're good at keeping a lot of secrets, except when it comes to romantic feelings. You proved that by telling me Milo has a thing for Veronica of all people!"

"I never said it was Veronica."

"Well, unless he's suddenly got a crush on Paula, who's in love with a woman, or Kefilwe, who's over thrice his age, then I can only guess it's the genius girl who never leaves the labs. But isn't she leaving Abel soon anyway?"

"Yeah, unfortunately for Milo. I'm surprised you're okay with this, being his mom and all."

I shrug. "I'm not surprised. He is a teenager. I had a crush on a boy when I was twelve... I was Milo's age when I had to shoot him though."

"How romantic."

I scoff. "You're so rude."

"Says the girl who shot her boyfriend."

"He wasn't really my boyfriend. I was thirteen." I sigh. "I miss him though... but the people I was with when the apocalypse started... they're all gone now. There are a few people I still think about, but they're probably dead." A forced laugh leaves me mouth, dry and bitter. "I can't believe I actually thought of going back to America."

"Well, I don't blame you for missing it. That's your home."

"Yeah, but home is not just a place. You know that. I... don't have anything left there. Abel's my home, and whatever happens after we defeat Moonchild... well, my home might change from Abel to somewhere else, but I'm not going back. Don't see why I should when I'm happier here."

"Yeah," Sam replies with a yawn. "I'm glad you're happier here with us. But as happy as I am that you're here talking to me, we should probably get to bed, even if you claim you don't sleep, which is a lie because I've seen you after you've conked out. It's a pretty amusing sight, to be honest."

"Alright, alright," I say, lying down on the bed, trying to get comfortable. "I guess I'll see you in the morning then."

"Yep. Goodnight, Five."

"Night, Sam."

And with a click he cuts off the transmission, and I take off my headset and place it in the drawer by the bed. I don't usually roll around in my sleep, but I don't want to risk accidentally crushing it.

And so I close my eyes, tiredness and exhaustion from the day's work finally taking over, and when I close my eyes, I welcome the black abyss of dreamland that comes for me.

•

It hurts.

That's the thought that keeps going through Singer's mind as hunger claws at her.

It hurts.

She wraps her arms around her stomach, hoping that the pressure will make the pain go away. It doesn't work.

How long has it been since she's eaten? Three days? Four? How long has it been since Tori died? How long has it been since Singer locked her out of that house?  Has it really only been a few days?

Brown eyes glance over at her sister, who stumbles along, eyes hollow, skin growing paler each day. It's still warm here, since it's now July, and being in Virginia- if that is where they are-it will stay that way for awhile. But their bodies are growing weaker and weaker each day. If starvation doesn't kill them, then infection and sickness from their weakening immune system will.

If they don't find food soon, they will die.

But it's hard. They ran out of water yesterday, and there are no more bullets left in their gun. They've been wandering for days but have found no people, no groups, nothing. Just zombies.

Singer's beginning to wonder if they might be the only ones left in the state.

In the back of her mind she knows that's not true, but as they walk the quiet highway, surveying the empty cars, she sees how many zombies are trapped in the cars, dead and alone...

Some of the cars they pass are new, pretty, expensive... Singer would suggest they use the car as means of travel, except she nor Katelyn knows how to drive, and Wes...

They're not on speaking terms. Plus he was only just learning how to drive when the apocalypse started, so it probably wouldn't go too well since there's all these cars around that would serve as obstacles.

So they continue to walk, tired and hungry and silent. That is, the walk is silent until Singer stumbles over her feet. She hits the asphalt, hissing as her skin scrapes against the rocks and pebbles. Katelyn's quick to help her sister up, tiredly offering the girl her hand while Wesley just stares blankly at the two. After he sees that Singer's injuries are only superficial, he continues walking, the two girls following behind him.

"How long do you think we'll have to keep walking before we find something?" Katelyn whispers, and Singer sighs.

"I don't know. Hopefully not too much longer."

But really, Singer doesn't even know what it is they're searching for. Food? Yes, that'd be nice, but they've been scavengers for nearly a month and it hasn't been going well for them. They can't do it forever.

People? The only people they've met outside of their family were psychos that tried to kill them.

A settlement? Singer's not even sure a settlement's been built anywhere near here.

Maybe this is it for them...

Singer grits her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut so the stinging tears won't escape her lashes. This isn't fair. After everything they've done, after everything she's done, the sacrifices that were made... it wouldn't be fair for them to die now.

But life isn't fair... this new world isn't fair. It never was.

But Singer made a promise. She promised her mother she would keep Katelyn safe. And to keep her safe she has to stay alive, no matter what.

Wesley stops, and Singer opens her tear filled eyes and gives him a raised brow.

"What is it?"

"Shh!" He says, narrowing his eyes. "Do you hear that?"

Both girls go silent, trying to listen for something, anything. But they hear nothing. At least, Singer hears nothing, and she says so, earning an annoyed look from Wes.

"Just listen."

"I am."

"Obviously not."

"I don't hear anything. Just tell me what you're hearing so we can move on. I mean, you don't have to be so difficult."

His blue eyes go wide, and a dry, angry laugh leaves his lips. "I'm being difficult? That's what you want to say to me after everything you've done?"

"Now isn't the time to bring this up."

"Why not now? It's the apocalypse. There's not a good time for anything."

"Jesus, will you stop with the dramatics? You can hate me later when we're sure we're safe. Whatever it is you've heard is important because you're making a big deal out of it. Tell us what you heard and then after you can continue to despise me."

He pulls at his dark hair. "I don't despise you! I wish I could, but... Don't you feel bad for any of this?"

She stares at him for a long moment, lips parted, barely noticing the low hum of an engine that reaches her ears.

"How can you even ask me that? Of course, I feel bad! I've felt bad for everything! But I can't-I can't dwell on this because I have to focus on surviving. We have to focus on-"

Her words are cut off when Katelyn grabs her hand, pointing ahead. Heading straight for them is a Jeep, and Singer realizes that that is the sound Wes heard and the faint sound she ignored while they were arguing.

Her eyes go wide, and she instantly grabs Wes's arm as well Katelyn's and throws herself behind one of the cars, dragging the other two along with her. They stay silent, hearts beating fast, eyes wide and faces drained of color.

This was what they were looking for-people, people who could drive and help them!

But they also might be people who plan on killing and eating them. As much as Singer wants to believe this is their salvation, fear keeps her from doing so, so when Katelyn opens her mouth to ask why they're hiding, she silences her with a glare.

She tenses when she hears the Jeep stop, and then the doors opening and closing as people step out. She looks over at Wes with wide, fearful eyes.

"What are we going to do?" She whispers, but before he can reply, a male voice rings into the air.

"We know you're there. There's no use in hiding. Show yourselves and we won't harm you."

Wesley starts to move, but Singer grabs his arm, shaking her head frantically.

"We can't show ourselves to them. They might be lying," She whispers.

"We've been wandering for weeks looking for something, someone. We can't hide now."

"I'm only going to say this one more time." There's the sound of a gun cocking. "Show yourselves and you will not be harmed."

Singer shakes her head. "What if they kill us?"

"We're going to die anyway if we stay keep going the same way we've been," He replies, standing up and holding up his hands in surrender. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot."

"My God. It's just a kid," A new voice says-female.

"We saw two more people when we were approaching. Where are they?" The man asks.

"They're still ducked down behind this car. They want to make sure you're not going to hurt us."

"Are they children as well?"

"Yes. I-I'm the oldest, so if you are going to hurt someone, then let it be me. I'm fourteen, Katelyn's ten and...." He pauses before saying Singer's real name and age.

"Tell the two they can stand up," The female says. "We won't hurt them."

Wes looks down and Singer and Katelyn, and they reluctantly stand. The two people are wearing odd uniforms. There's the name of what she's guessing is a town or maybe settlement on their shirts, but she loses interest in that when she hears the woman murmur something to the man.

"Do you think they'll take them?"

"They might. Only one way to find out." The man opens the back door of the Jeep, motioning for the three children to get in. "Hop inside. We'll take you somewhere safe."

They stay where they are, and Wesley looks at them uneasily. Even though they need help, they're still going to take precautions. Just because they're children doesn't mean they're stupid. "Where exactly will you be taking us?"

"To the AMTB. It's a training base. They'll teach you how to survive the apocalypse then let you live in a settlement. You'll have food, water, a bed and shower. You'll be safe there."

"And how can we trust you?" Singer pipes up, earning a smirk from the man. His brown eyes reveal nothing. They're cold and glossy and it makes Singer flinch.

"You don't have any other choice but to trust me, don't you?" He scoffs, looking away from them for a split second. "And if we wanted to hurt any of you, we would've done so already. Now get in."

Singer still hesitates, but she knows the man is right. They don't have any other choice. It's either this or starve to death, so she grabs Katelyn's hand, and then Wes's, thankful he doesn't pull away from her.

They climb into the Jeep, and the man shuts the door before jumping into the passenger side while the woman takes the wheel. She hits the gas, and they start to move forward, towards the AMTB, towards the place of promised safety.

Singer prays she didn't make a mistake.

•

My eyes flutter open. In silence I lay there, my mind going over the memory, the dream of what accelerated the descent of my already failing future. Sometimes I believe it would've been better to just have died there, in the beginning of the apocalypse...

But I can't think of what might have been. If I question how things should have happened, how things would have happened if I'd died in every near death situation I got into, I'd never stop thinking about it, seeing how death greets me on a near daily basis...

No, what's happened happened, and though I regret the decision to trust that man, the decision was still made, it lead to all of this. I am still here, headed to London to stop an evil hippie.

I close my eyes, sighing heavily. "I miss you, Wes... I wish you were here... I wish you could've gotten to know about the truth behind all this..."

But he's not here. He's dead and I'm still alive, and I have to be the one that stops Moonchild.

So I lay still, letting slumber take me over once more, and I pray one last prayer that I'll have the strength to do this.

A/N: Here you go, guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!