So, I'm off work the next few days. All geeked out with The Walking Dead and fuming over the World War Z disastrous movie trailer, I've decided to devote a good chunk of the next few days to writing. I wrote this very quickly, I will either extend this chapter or post a new chapter tonight/tomorrow. Just tryin' to sate yah faithful readers...thanks for sticking with me.

Ellis' feet were shackled to the ground. He stared at the sweater in his hands, a range of emotions so erratic coursed through him. He didn't know which one to act on. Fear, anger, hope...He didn't know these men, but these men gave him the first connection to Zoey he had other than his fading dreams.

He snapped back to reality with three heads turned towards him, impatience etched in their faces. He tucked the sweater into his belt, slamming the back door of the Humvee shut. Nick didn't know what Ellis was about to do, but he jumped from the vehicle just as quick.

Ellis tore open the drivers door, gripping the collar of the man called Marcus and yanking him out with strength he forgot he had. He had the man pinned on the floor in a matter of seconds, stealing the pistol from his belt and digging it into the mans forehead.

Nick didn't bother to assess the situation, he already had a chokehold on Adam, subduing him from assissting his friend. He couldn't manage to spit out an objection, Nicks arm was wrapped around his neck too tightly.

"Where did you get this vehicle?" Ellis spat between his teeth, saliva spewing onto the mans face. When he didn't answer immediately, Ellis pulled back and knocked the mans head to the side with his pistol. "WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET THIS?"

"We jacked it from a few soldiers in Colorado!" He shouted. "Only a few miles west of the Kansas border, alright? Fuck, what's your problem!"

"Shut yer fuckin' trap, was there a woman? WAS THERE A WOMAN?"

"Y-yeah!" He struggled beneath Ellis, and he pushed the barrel harder against his forehead. "Real cute brunette, alright? That's her pistol, too, in your hand. Is that what you wanna fuckin' hear?"

Ellis inploded with rage, using his left fist to knock Marcus' head left and right. "When?"

"A few, I don't know, maybe four days ago?"

Ellis breathed heavily, registering his words.

"Are you gonna fuckin' kill me? Cause if you are, quit putting it off like a pussy and do it!" He shouted, shooting a wad of spit onto Ellis' filthy shirt.

"I ain't gonna take that pleasure, just yet." Ellis sneered. "You're riding with us now. You're taking us to the exact spot you stole this here vehicle, comprende, muchacher?

"Ellis," Nick half-shouted from the passenger side. "whenever you're finished blowin' each other over there, why don't we get the fuck out of here? Your shouts are attracting geeks."

Ellis gripped his collar and pulled him to his feet, shoving him into the back seat. "Get the other one in here, take his weapon and keep yours on them. I'll take care of the biters."

Nick happily obliged, and Ellis pulled his machete from his belt. A few geeks stumbled from the trees, locking their sights on Ellis and shuffling forward. Slower than usual. "You must be some hungry mother fuckers, aye?" Ellis asked rhetorically, approaching the closest one. A nude walker, whatever skin was left was a cold, dark grey. Black goo oozed from its mouth, its wounds, its belly. Ellis grabbed hold of its shoulder and buried the blade into its skull, ripping it out and kicking its gut, knocking it into the Z behind it. He repeated this process at least five more times, taking out every zombie he saw. There weren't many, and Ellis walked breathlessly back to the car, adrenaline pumping. He had such energy coursing through him as he slid into the drivers seat, Nick sitting beside him, half turned towards the men in the backseat, his barrel locked on them.

Ellis did a three point turn around and barreled west, in the direction the men came from. He had always wanted to see Colorado.

"On the plus side, we have acquired a legitimate reason not to carry out our 'mission'," Logan said cheerfully. "fuck yeah, right gang?"

Keith kicked the pebbles around his feet, holding a piece of cloth to his bleeding nose. "Yeah, well, what the fuck we gonna do now?"

"We keep going." I said from my seated position on the gravel, still fuming over being carjacked by a couple pieces of shit. "What other option do we have?"

"On foot?" Keith inquired nervously.

I stood and smacked his shoulder. "Combat practice."

"Yeah...combat practice..."

"We're gonna keep heading east, like planned. Add a few days to our trip sans a vehicle. We only have a few more hours of daylight. Let's move and find somewhere to hole ourselves up for the night." Logan instructed.

We walked towards the main road from the parking lot. Logan reclaimed his gun and Keith still had his, which he tried handing over to me. "No," I refused. "you need as much practice as you can get. That thing is going to be your new best friend."

Keith stared down at the pistol in his hands before tucking it back into its holster. He muttered beneath his breath, "I don't want a new best friend."