The Midnight Riders

Chapter Eleven – The Crimson Hunter

Gunshots echoed through the empty streets of New Bern but there were no marksmen in sight. The blasts came from Benedict Bevan's compound; a lavish manor house with several buildings to the rear of it that housed areas for food storage and even a miniature hospital complete with operating rooms and research laboratories. It was deep within the medical area from where the gunshots were coming from.

The lavish manor house was ablaze. Inside furniture was incinerated, walkways were destroyed and the foundations crumbled. It would not take long for the entire building to collapse, destroying the Clan that used it as their base of operations.

Thomas Galt was gone and so was his Clan. Oliver Rooney was no more after being taken over by Benedict Bevan. Now the compassionate wheelchair bound man was gone too, along with all of his friends.

The Midnight Riders were nowhere to be seen.

The gunshots were soon silenced.

The end had come.

Kathryn Stevens sat in the Tactics Room of the HMS Richard Jaeger nervously tapping the side of the touch screen table display that sat in the centre of all of the computers. Her commander, Miguel Doyle, had just informed her of recent events; one member of Secretary of Homeland Security Norah Hanham's team known as the Midnight Riders had been shot dead. Miguel told Kathryn that they were going to have a very quick funeral service for the deceased before they set off to the rendezvous location just a few miles away. From there they would board the submarine and then go home; mission accomplished.

When Miguel had first told Kathryn that he wanted her to oversee the operation because he was going into the field; a wave of excitement hit her so hard that she was almost knocked off her feet. The short, bespectacled young woman with short red hair was never used to being outside of the engineering room, let alone in charge. However soon after Miguel left she realised that all she was really doing was following the team's progress on the satellite link map and talking to them every once in a while. It was not the power trip that she had imagined. In fact it was mostly pretty boring. Aside from one or two interesting incidents and the recent murder, she seldom observed anything of interest during the mission.

All radio chatter was recorded and archived so that it was easier for Kathryn to prepare and send reports back home, a task she was expected to do every twelve hours. She felt that the number of times she was expected to report back home felt quite excessive but she shrugged and did what was expected of her; after it was not her job to have fun or to be in charge.

However one day she suddenly received a video call. An image was displayed on the touch screen table of the Tactics Room, which suddenly lifted up and tilted so that it could be viewed like a standard television screen. When Kathryn noticed who was on the screen her eyes widened and her whole body stiffened.

She was being contacted out of the blue by the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and the President of the United States.

Trembling slightly, Kathryn saluted them before lowering her arm and standing tall and straight. It was a very uncomfortable position to be in.

"At ease," the Prime Minister said with a friendly wave of the hand.

"Mr Prime Minister," Kathryn looked to the President. "Mr President, sir… sirs. I had no idea that you were going to call me directly."

"No," the President put his hands together. "We had no idea we were going to do this either."

Kathryn's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Sir?"

"I'm going to be frank with you," the Prime Minister said. "Forgive me for skipping over the formal niceties but time is not on our side and discretion is paramount."

Kathryn had a sudden bad feeling in the depths of her stomach. She realised that you don't get a call from both the Prime Minister and the President without there being a serious reason behind it. She suddenly felt insecure and out of her depth.

"Pardon me, sir, but I don't think that I am the person you should be speaking to. Lieutenant commander Doyle is still in the field but he should be returning soon."

"We don't need Miguel Doyle," the Prime Minister said. "We need you."

Kathryn felt a lump in her throat. Her legs felt weak and her hands were trembling. In an attempt to seem cool and casual she leant against the back of her chair, gripping it tight so that they would not notice her nervousness.

"The bioterrorism counter force has undergone some dramatic changes over the past few weeks," the President said. "Changes that drastically alter the parameters of your mission."

"I see."

"Edward Deacon has been removed from office along with Anna Shepherd," the Prime Minister informed her. "It was felt that they were not the best people to be in charge of the BCF by their peers or by the general public. Many people shared the opinion that simply waiting for biohazard threats to pop up and deal with them then is an ineffectual way to handle incidents of this magnitude."

"Nonetheless they have done good work so we've not thrown them to the wolves," the President added. "They've merely been reassigned to other areas within the public sector; areas where they would be better suited. In their wake they have been replaced by bold thinkers; scientists not soldiers."

"Scientists the world over have been trying to make heads and tails of this virus that can turn people into monsters for nearly a year now," the Prime Minister went on. "There has been some success with regards to developing vaccines and so on but we feel that there is so much more that we could do in order to protect the world from this disease. That's where you come in."

Kathryn frowned.

"I don't understand… I'm just watching the shop while the owner's gone; I'm not in charge of this operation."

"The operation has now changed," said the President. "And so has the commanding officer. From now own, you are in charge Ms Stevens."

Kathryn was not sure that she had heard correctly so she asked the President to repeat what he had just said.

"You heard him," the Prime Minister cut in. "You're relieving Doyle of his command; effective immediately. Congratulations on your promotion."

"Oh dear shit…" Kathryn muttered under her breath. This was all happening so fast. She felt as if she were about to hyperventilate.

"As commanding officer you are expected to listen to us and us only," the President said. "Do you understand? If we give you an order it is imperative that you follow it immediately. If we say jump, don't ask how high, just do it. Do you understand?"

Kathryn could not muster the words so she simply nodded.

"Good," the Prime Minister's face suddenly fell. "Now we must move onto how the mission has changed…"

Rochelle was sat with her knees tucked close to her body outside the manor house. She was two feet from a large red stain on the grass, the red stain that she had been staring at for what felt like forever to everyone else, however to her it felt as if no time had passed at all. Night had turned to day and yet Rochelle was still sitting there. Her clothes were stained with a dried red colour, almost crimson. She continued staring at the spot where the man she had loved died.

Coach stepped out of the main doors holding two cups of coffee that steamed in the cool air. He saw Rochelle and a look of pity washed across his face. He went over to her, being careful not to spill any coffee.

"I got you a drink," he said, standing over her. Rochelle did not answer; she did not even look away from the spot. Coach sighed and carefully got down on his knees and placed one of the cups next to her. He then made himself more comfortable and sat with Rochelle for a while.

He sat with her as he drank his coffee while she neglected hers. Coffee was a rare commodity nowadays and yet she ignored it. She knew that she would probably be leaving America soon where she would receive coffee whenever she wanted it, even if she were being subjected to a whole manner of intrusive tests for the rest of her life. If she ended up staying she would probably never have the chance to drink coffee again and yet she sat there letting her own cup slowly go cold.

She could live without the coffee. She was not sure if she could live without Nick.

Watching from a distance, Norah was stood leaning against a wall. Her eyes were fixated on Rochelle. She knew the pain that she felt; she was responsible for it. Even though she could relate, Norah did not care. Even though she should have been able to see a lot of herself in Rochelle's position she did not. She just felt slightly relieved. Relieved and satisfied.

"You okay?" Cassandra suddenly appeared behind Norah, causing her to jump with shock.

"You frightened me," Norah gasped.

"Sorry," said Cassandra, glancing in the direction Norah was looking. Her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Oh," Norah paused for a moment, gesticulating as she attempted for form a reason as to why she was there. "I just feel really bad for Rochelle."

"We all do," Cassandra said.

"Yeah, well I've gone through what she's going through. I was going to see if maybe I could help her or something but… I dunno; she looks a bit withdrawn."

"She's probably still in shock," Cassandra shrugged.

"It's just hard, you know. I feel like I should have done something. All I heard was the gunshot; when I got there Nick was already on the ground."

"No one could have done anything to prevent it," Cassandra put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. Norah turned her head slightly so that she would not be seen with a slight smirk. "You can talk to Rochelle about it later. For now, why don't you just give her some time?"

"Yeah," Norah nodded. "I think I will."

Despite what she had just said, Norah remained standing there, watching Rochelle. Cassandra turned to move away but when she noticed Norah was not doing the same she looked back at her. Norah glanced at Cassandra.

"Was there something else?" she asked.

"No…" Cassandra shook her head and Norah turned back. Cassandra frowned as she looked at Norah but she turned around anyway and walked away.

Coach had nearly finished drinking his coffee and Rochelle had still not even touched hers. Swallowing the last mouthful Coach sighed and put the cup on the ground. He sat silently, glancing at Rochelle every once in a while as if he wanted to say something. Every time he tried to speak the words suddenly left him. He wanted to say something; anything. But what could he say? He decided that he probably should not be the one talking so he looked to Rochelle and finally said something.

"Talk to me."

Rochelle shrugged.

"What about?"

"Whatever you want."

"The weather's nice, isn't it?"

Coach sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

"What do you want me to say?" Rochelle asked. Her tone was dull and flat. "What can I say? Do you want me to talk about this?" She gestured to Nick's blood stain. "What can I say about it?"

"You can tell me how you're feeling?" Coach suggested.

"I don't want to do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not a 'let's share our feelings' kind of girl. This is not a slumber party and I'm not in a therapy session."

Slumber party? Coach thought. He could not imagine Rochelle being a slumber party kind of girl. He sat forward and put his hands together.

"Back before everything turned to shit I got in deep with the wrong types of people."

"You've told this story before," Rochelle pointed out.

"I guess I'm gonna tell it again, then," Coach said. "These people tried to kill my fiancée, Ruth, as a way of sending a message to me. When I thought that she was dead I got angry; I got very angry. I've never been good at controlling my emotions so I went to these people and took my anger out on them as a way of dealing with it."

"You can't really compare the two situations though," Rochelle said, looking away from the blood for the first time. "Ruth turned up okay. Nick won't."

"I'm just thinking," Coach sat forward as Rochelle looked away. "Are you bottling your emotions up? It can't be healthy if you are; you need to deal with them otherwise you could end up taking your frustration out on people who don't deserve it."

"I don't feel frustrated."

"Okay. What are you feeling?"

"Why do I have to be feeling anything?"

"Well someone you cared about just died; don't you feel that talking through the pain will help?"

"How will it help? Will it bring Nick back from the dead? No. Will it turn back time? No. All it will do is waste words and waste time."

"Both of those things are free and plentiful, though."

"I'm not discussing it with you, Coach." Rochelle suddenly got to her feet. She looked down at him. "Christ; he's been dead for a few hours can't I just have some time?"

Rochelle walked away, Coach watching her as she went. He heard for the first time throughout their conversation a feeling in her voice. It was one of frustration.

Later that day Miguel, Coach and Benedict talked about arranging a funeral for Nick. They decided to have a ceremony that very night. Benedict suggested the idea of having a small bonfire that they could all gather around so that they could share stories about Nick before cremating him. With everyone agreeing to the plan, Miguel arranged a small group to go out and search for firewood and other materials that could be used for the bonfire. Drake and Teek volunteered as did Bill, Francis, Louis and Zoey. Coach worked with Cassandra and Benedict's number two, Pam to write a few words for the ceremony. Miguel and Madison began building the bonfire and arranging the fuel in a safe way so that it would be easily accessible. They were building it close to the centre of the courtyard so that as many people as possible could fit around it.

As the two built the base of the fire Miguel noticed that Madison was looking around the courtyard rather often.

"What's up?" he asked her.

"Huh?" Madison looked at him, a blank expression on her face. She then suddenly twigged what he said. "Oh! I'm just wondering where Norah and Malcolm are."

"I gave Malcolm to Benedict; that explosion caused a bit of damage and he's helping them fix it. I've no idea where Norah is."

"Is it me or has she been acting kind of weird recently?"

Miguel shrugged. "I don't really know her well enough to say. She saw Nick get murdered and they were together for quite a while; that might have something to do with it."

"I don't know," Madison shook her head, an insightful expression on her face. "Back when we were on the bus before Nick died she was acting quite unusual. There was just something off about her that I can't quite put my finger on."

Miguel smiled as Madison explained herself. She noticed and frowned.

"What's so funny? This is serious stuff!"

"I know, I'm sorry; I'm not being very appropriate."

"So what's so funny?"

"Nothing's funny really; I just like that face you pull."

"That face I pull?" Madison stepped back, folding her arms.

"The one you make when you're being all inquisitive and stuff. It's cute."

Madison's seriousness suddenly evaporated. She wanted to smile but she tried to supress it. Even so there was a slight grin forming at the sides of her mouth.

"It's cute?" she repeated. "What are we, sixteen?"

"I'm just saying! After everything that's happened I guess I think that I shouldn't take things for granted anymore. I'm thinking that if there's something to be said then I should just say it."

Miguel suddenly stopped speaking. He felt very hot all of a sudden. He was fully aware of Madison looking at him with a sly smile on her face. Despite what he had just said he had no desire to say anything else. Madison rolled her eyes and stepped forward.

"Do you want to ask me out, commander?"

Miguel's heart suddenly started beating very quickly. He could not believe this; he was acting like a stupid teenager. He opened his mouth to say something but no words formed.

"I bet you were a huge hit with the ladies back home."

"Oh yeah," Miguel chuckled awkwardly. "They were lining up outside my front door."

"I bet," Madison looked at the bonfire. She had suddenly lost interest in it.

"What would you say, then?" Miguel asked shyly. "If I did ask you out?"

Madison deliberately remained silent for a moment, pretending to think.

"If you want to know then you should just ask."

"Hey, guys!" Waylon, Benedict's third hand, was calling at them from the second floor of the manor house. The two looked up at him. "Do you think one of you could come up here and give us a hand?"

"I'll go," Madison called back. She looked back at Miguel. "Catch you later." She gave him a wink and walked away with a slight spring in her step. Miguel was feeling very hot. Very hot indeed.

Ellis was walking through the manor house. He had been helping Waylon and Malcolm fix some damage caused by Fraser's failed bomb attack. The work was nothing too strenuous but Ellis asked Waylon if he could take a break for a while.

He left the second floor library where he had been replacing books that had fallen off the shelves due to the force of the blast. It was tedious work that gave him time to think. He went down the stairs and walked across the hallway and into a corridor. He approached one door that was three doors down on the right hand side and put his hand on the knob before taking a moment. He sighed, closed his eyes and stepped through it.

Ellis stepped into a small bedroom. It was finely decorated as every other room of the manor. Lying on the bed was Nick, his arms folded over his chest. He had not been changed out of his clothes; the white suit was now a dark crimson because of the blood.

Leaving the door ajar, Ellis tentatively stepped through the room toward Nick. He could not take his eyes off him as he approached him. He did not look real. He looked almost as if he were made of plastic or wax. Despite what he looked like, he was still Nick.

Ellis so badly wished that he wasn't.

Stopping just short of the bed, Ellis continued to look down at his friend. His eyes suddenly filled with tears. Ellis took a few steps to the side and put his back against a wall. He slid down to the floor, covering his face with his hands and sobbed quietly, letting out only the faintest of whimpers.

Not far away from the compound the search party had managed to find several good sources of fuel. Using one of Benedict's pickup trucks as a way to carry the supplies, everyone threw whatever they thought was appropriate for the fire. Down one of the suburban streets they even managed to break into a garage in a deserted house and found a 4x4 with almost a full tank of gas. Drake was able to syphon the gas tank dry with ease, claiming he was "good at sucking", causing Teek to blush.

Walking lazily down the road of one of the streets, Bill, Francis, Louis and Zoey were side by side. Bill had a cigarette in his mouth while Zoey had her hands behind her back, gently holding onto a pistol. They had not encountered any infected in a while.

"I can't believe it's nearly over," Louis said, breaking a very long moment of silence.

"I can," Bill spat the cigarette butt onto the ground. "It was always going to end."

"I can't believe we came back," Francis sighed.

"We made a promise, didn't we?" said Zoey. "We said that we'd come back for them."

"I dunno, man," said Francis. "I mean why did we go through all this effort for people who essentially are complete strangers?"

"No one is a stranger, Francis," said Bill. "Not anymore. We're all soldiers fighting a war against these zombies. Soldiers do not leave their teammates behind. Even if they have to wait a year, even if the battle is over; we still have to come back for them."

"Bill we're not soldiers," Louis pointed out. "Come to think of it; neither are you. Not anymore.
Vietnam was years ago."

"You don't have to fight for your country to be a soldier; you just have to fight for a cause that you believe in. We all believed in the same thing; stopping the Director. We all fought different battles to try and stop him. In the end we did. But just because the war is over it doesn't mean the threat is gone. There will always be other men to replace the dangerous ones. There will always be people who want to force their own twisted agenda onto other people. That is why there will always be people like us; fighting to stop them. Fighting to save the world."

The speech came not from Bill but from Zoey and the three men looked at her in slight surprise. She looked back and shrugged. They walked on a bit more without speaking for a while until Bill broke the silence.

"I don't want the fight to end," Bill sighed. Francis and Louis looked at him, surprised.

"You can still fight, Bill," Zoey told him. "I was speaking to Edward Deacon before we set off about joining the BCF. With proper training we all could join."

"I don't think so," Bill muttered.

"Damn straight!" Louis cried. "The only reason I came back here was to make sure that you would be okay." He looked at Zoey tenderly. "There's no way I'm going back to the front lines after this; no sir, nuh-uh."

"That's good for you because you have a choice," Bill said. "Look at me; I have no choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"I want to fight; fighting is my heart and soul. Even if I tried to officially join the BCF when we get back do you honestly think that they would let me go back into the field at my age? I don't think so. Most of the work would be behind a desk anyway; not out here where you could do some real good and make a real difference."

A morose silence fell over the group.

"That Nick guy is a good example," Bill continued. "He's an example of what happens when people just lose it. People out here have enough to worry about with these damned zombies without suddenly killing each other. These survivors, these Clans; they all need help and the rest of the world have no intention of giving it to them."

"There's nothing we can do about that, though," Francis put his hand on Bill's shoulder. "As you and Zoey have said; we're soldiers. Soldiers don't change the world; politicians do. We need to rely on people like Norah and Edward to do the right thing."

"Why did you come back, Francis?" Zoey asked. "I mean, really why did you come back here with us? You're not the kind of guy who is idealistic or who wants to change the world."

"All my life I never really belonged," Francis explained. "I was a bit of an outcast. I got into fights; I was annoying, I hated everything."

"Yeah, we know that part," Louis joked.

"But since I met you guys everything just felt… I dunno. Everything was just good. I feel like I belong with you guys."

Zoey smiled.

"So that's why I came back here," Francis summarised. "Besides; you assholes wouldn't last five minutes without me."

Miguel was walking through one of the corridors of the medical area. It was eerily quiet and his footsteps echoed loudly. He had been sent here when he had asked someone if they knew where Norah was. Apparently this was the last place anyone saw her go.

He looked everywhere. After walking past a creepy looking operating theatre with a two way mirror he went down a few levels. He found empty recovery rooms but no Norah. Further down Miguel was surprised to find what looked like a set of relatively advanced laboratories. There was an empty basement another level down and a few levels below that was a small power plant. Miguel suspected that it would take a lot of energy to run an operation like this; it was a good thing that Benedict had a lot of people under his command.

The feeling of isolation giving him the creeps; Miguel left the medical area, giving up on his search for Norah. He would no doubt see her soon as the funeral was taking place in a few hours. Bill and the others had already returned with enough fuel to make a decent bonfire so all that was left to do was prepare and get ready.

As Miguel left the medical area he spotted Norah in the courtyard. She was stood a distance away from the centre where all the action was happening. He walked over to her.

"You alright?" he asked, shaking her loose from a daydream.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm good."

Miguel smiled and nodded. He stood close to Norah with his hands in his pockets. She clearly felt irritated by his presence.

"What's up?"

"Oh nothing," Miguel replied, his tone deliberately neutral.

"Well did you come over here for a specific reason?"

"Kinda. I just wanted you to know that we'll be getting on our way in the morning; after all this is over."

"Great."

"I've apprised Kathryn of the situation so she'll be waiting for us."

"You know I'm not your boss, Miguel," Norah looked at him. "You don't need to run things by me."

"I know," Miguel nodded. "But you are the person I was sent here to bring back and I just want to make sure that you're good with everything." He looked at her with a slight glint in his eye. "You are good, right?"

"I'm grand."

"Really?"

"Seriously, Miguel, why are you here?"

"I dunno," he looked back at the bonfire assembly. "You just seem a bit… off."

"Well one of the people I've been working with for about a year was shot right in front of me. I'm sure you'd be a bit off too if you saw bullets tear through your friend's body."

Miguel sensed that she was attempting to make him feel uncomfortable in order to change the topic. He ignored it.

"You weren't exactly friends, though, were you?"

Norah looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She was concerned all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I was chatting with Ellis during dinner last night. He told me that you and Nick had a falling out of sorts and weren't on the best of terms."

Norah forced a laugh that was obviously false.

"Yes well Ellis isn't really the most perceptive of people. He's a good mechanic but I think he was having a cigarette when God was handing out the brains."

"Hm," Miguel folded his arms. "I can see why some people would get that impression."

Norah felt a mild sense of relief. Dodged that bullet.

"That's why I spoke to Nick about it."

Norah's mouth fell open a bit but she managed to disguise her surprise by saying "oh?"

"He said that you blamed him for the death of your best friend. He said that you felt particularly strongly about it."

"Why did you ask Nick these questions?"

"I felt that I was being responsible by asking. After all you two were about to take a long cross Atlantic trip together in a confined environment. I wanted to see how likely it was you two might come to blows and potentially disrupt the operation."

"I see," Norah's tone was slightly flustered. "Well why did you go to Nick and not myself?"

"I was going to talk to you next but then Nick died."

Silence followed. Norah and Miguel both looked forward at the bonfire. Neither of them said a word or did anything for a very long time. Norah decided that she would break the silence as for each passing second she seemed more and more suspicious.

"I know what you're implying."

"What are you inferring?"

"You think I killed Nick because I was angry that he was inadvertently responsible for Danielle's death."

"People have killed for less," Miguel sighed. "Hell, the infected kill for the hell of it."

Norah turned to face Miguel. He just turned his head to look at her.

"This is inappropriate and I really do not appreciate being accused of murder, especially when we are about to cremate the deceased. Show some respect!"

Norah stormed away, leaving Miguel standing there on his own. He watched her enter the manor house and slammed the door behind her. Miguel's eyes narrowed.

It was time. The bonfire had been lit and the flames were being well sustained. All that was left was the body. With the absence of a casket, Benedict had placed a sturdy table outside and provided a stretcher so that Nick could be transported and placed onto the table while the service went underway. Francis and Coach stepped into the room where Nick had been placed to find Ellis on the floor next to the bed. He insisted that he be allowed to carry Nick outside. Francis stepped aside and Coach and Ellis carried Nick through the corridor and out into the main hall.

Everyone was there waiting for Nick. Many members of Benedict's Clan made up the numbers. Pam was holding the door to the outside open as Coach and Ellis went through with everyone else slowly following. Rochelle went first outside so she could stand where she wanted. In the crowd, Norah watched her with anxious eyes. Miguel, who was walking with Madison, watched her closely.

"Oh the poor thing," he heard Cassandra whisper. He looked to her.

"Huh?"

"Norah, bless her. She's so torn up about what's happened." Yeah, right, mused Miguel. "I saw her earlier today; she felt so bad about not being able to help him. I told her that she wasn't even there when he was shot; no one was, but she still feels like she could have done more."

Miguel frowned slightly.

"Say again?"

"Norah, she told me that she feels terrible about it. I guess that's what people who discover the body always feel like, though: they feel like they should have been quicker."

"So you're saying that Norah didn't see Nick getting shot?"

"Of course not! How could she have when she found him after it had happened?"

Madison promptly shushed the two but Miguel had heard what he needed.

Norah had lied to him. Or she had lied to Cassandra. Then his eyebrows narrowed further.

Maybe she lied to everyone?

Everyone formed a half-moon shape around the bonfire with Nick being placed on the table in the centre. Rochelle, Coach and Ellis were stood together, lamenting in the fact that their original quartet had now become a trio. Norah was separated from them slightly, stuck in the crowd. Bill, Francis, Louis and Zoey stood with Cassandra, Miguel, Madison and Malcolm close by. Drake and Teek were together deep in the crowd. Benedict was wheeled out by Pam to give a speech. Pam stood next to Benedict with her head bowed and her hands behind her back. Benedict cleared his throat.

"It is great sadness that brings us here today. Our beloved friend and valued teammate Nick has been taken away from us so suddenly and so cruelly. Even though I did not know Nick as well as some of you did," his eyes lingered on Rochelle for a moment. "I still feel a profound sense of loss and a great sense of waste. There is one less good man in this world; one less teammate to share supplies with, one less ally to watch out for us in the dark, one less friend to pick us up as we fall. The world is far too short of good men especially in these dark times. When some men were destroyed by this new world and where some men were blackened by it; Nick was a rare man who stood tall and remained strong. He was a leader, a team player and above all he was one of us. He is someone who should be remembered and he is someone who will be remembered."

Benedict finished his slightly awkward prepared speech, cutting it short by a few minutes. Pam rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"If anyone would like to share a few stories or experiences with us about Nick then please feel free to do so."

After a brief moment of hesitation Coach decided to step forward. He cleared his throat.

"Nick was someone I could always count on. When we first met each other it was on the rooftop of a hotel that was being used as a pickup point for survivors back when all this started. As you can see that plan didn't really work out too well."

One or two people chuckled quietly. Coach let out a brief smile before he went on.

"Anyway from the first moment we met we worked well as a team. We were good, me, him, Ellis and Ro. We were a good team. Without Nick I don't think we'd even be standing here… He was a part of our team that's just… irreplaceable. He was a real good guy, one of the best. I don't know how we're gonna…"

Coach fell silent and bowed his head. He took a step back, holding back emotion. Benedict opened up the floor for anyone else to say anything.

"I've got something I'd like to say." Norah stepped forward. Miguel eyed her with suspicion. "When I first met Nick I had a feeling as if he were a man with power, a man who always did the right thing, a man with morals and ethics. Over the past few months I've spent with him I can see that that was the case. Nick was such a good person I can't fathom why someone would kill him. I can't place the evil that must have existed to have been able to pull the trigger." She paused with fake but more or less believable emotion. Miguel could see right through her. "I regret that we had a serious disagreement over the final days of his life. Had I known what I know now I would have apologised to him and fixed everything. I can't bear the thought of him leaving us thinking that I hated him because the truth is that I felt honoured to have been classed as one of Nick's friends." Miguel winced at her words. She glanced around the group before finishing up.

"I will always miss him."

Norah went back to her spot after a moment of silence, leaving a foul taste in Miguel's mouth. Benedict asked if anyone else wanted to say something. Ellis took a step forward but it was all he could do to keep himself from bursting into tears so he retreated back. As Benedict was about to finish Rochelle stepped forward, walking out into the centre of the gathering and standing close to Nick. His body was covered in a white sheet. She looked at him for a moment before speaking. She did not look away.

"It's funny hearing all these stories about Nick. Its nice hearing how people thought of him; that they respected him that they liked him because he was a nice, good and decent person." Rochelle glanced up at everyone. "It's nice to hear but it's not true." An awkward hush fell over everyone.

"Don't get me wrong; most of you know Nick as a good guy but when I met, when we met him," she gestured to Coach and Ellis, "he was a bit of a dick. He was rude, cocky and totally self-involved. Back in the hotel when we all met as some of us fell behind Nick was perfectly happy to keep on running and leave us all behind. I guess you could go as far as to say that he was one of the people you wouldn't mind seeing turn into a zombie."

Rochelle paused for a moment, placing her hand on the table, near Nick.

"That's what he was like, I guess. Nick was a dark guy. He had demons, darker demons than most of us. In order to try and please his father he did things, some of them horrible, in the hope that it would bond them. His father turned out to be a pretty bad guy and Nick vowed to change so he would not be one of those bad guys. That is when he started becoming decent. That is when he started being honourable. That is when he became who he is today.

"Shortly before he decided to change I found myself pointing a gun at Nick. He may not have been a good guy but I was definitely a bad guy. All my life I had been doing bad things for some greater good. I was misguided but I was definitely evil. When it came time for me to shoot Nick I couldn't. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I was a cold, calculating, ruthless bitch. I killed many people before and yet I couldn't shoot Nick. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't do it."

Everyone leant in, captivated by her story.

"I couldn't do it because I loved him." A tear fell down her face, the first she had shed since he died. "I loved him. I still love him and I always will love him. I loved him when he was an asshole and I loved him when he had changed. I saw that deep down Nick was a complex person just like all of us. Over time he proved to me that he cared for me too by always looking out for me and helping me. He was the first person I ever truly opened up to. He is the first person I've ever loved. I feel like he's always been there for me. I'm just sorry that I couldn't have been there for him."

Norah shuffled her feet.

"I just want people to remember that Nick was an asshole," Rochelle said in conclusion. "But the fact that he wanted to be better than that means he was something different all together; something that few people can claim to be; he was brave. I wish I was brave and had told him how I feel…"

Rochelle sniffed and walked away. Coach wanted to embrace her but he forced himself to stop. Benedict cleared his throat and began to conclude the ceremony. He started saying a prayer for Nick, with everyone repeating his words as he spoke. When he was finished he gestured to Coach and Ellis to take Nick away. They went to the table to take Nick over to the bonfire. As they placed their hands on the stretcher to lift him up there came a piercing sound from up above.

It was the whistling sound of a firework shooting high into the air, only without the bang at the end. Everyone looked up and saw a glowing white light slowly falling down toward them. There came another noise and then another and two more lights appeared in the sky. Miguel frowned as he saw them; they looked as if they had been launched from somewhere nearby. He glanced around and thought he saw something in the distance. He saw people.

People with guns.

"Everyone get down!" he shouted. The white lights suddenly exploded in a bright flash, startling everyone. Miguel, anticipating the flashes, had his eyes closed. People started to scream and run in all directions. Emerging from the darkness were people dressed in army fatigues. They were able to disable each person they ran into by hitting them with the butts of their state of the art weapons.

Bill, squinting through the light, saw a soldier approaching and took out his pistol and began firing. The gunshots caused more people to panic and storm out of the place. Coach and Ellis were knocked aside by a group of people and taken away from the table, leaving Nick there. The crowd ran at the table, knocking it over and sending Nick onto the floor. As his head hit the ground hard his dead eyes opened.

Miguel had lost Madison. He could not see Norah. He could see through the crowd Rochelle standing slightly apart. He attempted to make his way over there.

Madison was fighting back against a wall of people; Bill's gunshot had caused a stampede. She did not know who were attacking them but a defensive strategy was needed and fast. An arm reached out through the people and pulled her into some open space. Madison came face to face with Norah who asked if she was okay. When Madison asked what was going on, soldiers appeared and pointed guns at them.

Bill had managed to shoot a soldier in the chest but he wore armour making the shot ineffective. Bill was suddenly surrounded by soldiers who incapacitated him. They had done the same with Francis, Louis, Zoey and Cassandra. Drake, Teek and Malcolm put up an admirable fight before they, too were restrained.

Miguel pushed past everyone in his way to get at Rochelle. That is when he saw the men in white hazmat suits appear from nowhere, surround her and take her away. He began shouting at them but then felt someone grab a hold of his shoulder and turn him around. Miguel spun on the spot and came face to face with Kathryn Stevens. He was so surprised he was taken aback by her sudden appearance. Before he could say anything he felt something hit him on the back of his head and everything went dark.

The funeral was over.

When he came to the first thing that he was aware of was that he could not see. He must have been blindfolded. He tried to move his arms to take the blindfold off but found that he could not move. Each time he tried to move his limbs he struggled as if they were heavily restrained. He let out an echoing groan as he tried as hard as he could to break out of his restraints but stopped after a few moments of trying.

He felt exhausted. The back of his head hurt. What had he been hit with? Who hit him?

Norah.

He felt anger toward Norah.

He let out a dejected sigh and heard the echo again. He felt quite cold. What room was he in? One of the empty labs in the medical centre? The basement? He felt frustrated that he was blind and helpless.

Then he heard it; the voices. From a short distance away the sound of two people talking could be heard. Managing to tilt his head ever so slightly, he listened.

"The commander wants us to make sure that her little friends don't try anything," said one voice. "They're a loyal group apparently."

"We'll just bang them on the sub and get them out of here; they won't think about her if they've got the taste of freedom in their mouths."

"I dunno why they'd care about her; she's toxic…"

The voices faded.

They were talking about Rochelle as they walked by; it must have been her. What are they going to do with her? Why are they letting the rest of us go? Why the fuck can't I move?

With renewed purpose he tried to move again. Once again he stopped. This time it was not because he had no energy, it was because he could see something in the darkness.

He wasn't blindfolded at all; he was being kept in a dark room. He could see in the distance the outline of something large. His vision slowly became more clear, as if he could see beyond the darkness. He saw the two guards clearly even though they were now quite far away.

He had more energy, in fact he felt incredibly energetic.

He looked around and, even though he could not see them, he knew where other guards were.

As if his restraints had melted away, he was able to sit up. He glanced up and saw that the large outline he had seen was actually the manor house. He stood up and folded his arms in the cold, feeling something on his chest.

He looked down and saw three gunshots.

Nick looked back up, bemused.

"Well I'll be God-damned."