Chapter 1: 1

Corrugated sheet metal snags at my worn belt loops as I slide beneath it, wriggling underneath chain-link and a precariously-placed set of wooden planks wrapped in barbed wire. I grunt, tugging until I pull free with a tearing of fabric.

Fuck. Clothes are hard enough to come by these days without me tearing them all whenever I head out on my little escapades.

I pull myself to my feet and push the sheet of metal back in place, covering the Teddy-sized hole in our cobbled-together wall that I've been using to avoid getting questioned by the guards posted at the gate.

The moon shines dully from behind a layer of clouds, dim in comparison to the floodlights set up on the asphalt. They light up the corners of the multistory car park in bright white, reflecting off of peeling billboards and traffic cones. Retrieving my backpack and bolt-action rifle, both tossed over the fence so I could wriggle underneath, I head towards it, slipping underneath the shadows of the wide entrance. The inside of the garage is dark and unlit—the first floor is only used for storage, filled with large, blanket-draped crates that sit hunched against the walls like sleeping beasts. I head up to the next level, where the moonlight from outside barely illuminated along the edges of pop-up tents and lean-tos made from blankets. It's silent here too, most everyone long since asleep.

I head towards my tent, moving softly along the concrete floor. The air smells of old gasoline and rusting metal.

"Teddy."

I flinch.

Then I sigh and turn around.

"Hey, babe."

Ama walks towards me, dressed in a hoodie, dark hair ruffled and loose around her shoulders. She's shorter than me, with wide, dark doe's eyes framed by thick lashes. Now, in the darkness of the parking garage, they're obscured by shadows. Her heavy brows are furrowed with irritation.

Oops.

"I, uh, thought you went to bed already," I say.

"I did. So did you, if I'm remembering correctly."

"I just slipped out to use the washroom."

"So that's why you've got your bag and your rifle?"

"You never know when you might run into mutated."

I'm not convincing her. There's no way for me to get out of this one.

She steps closer to me.

"You shouldn't run into mutated—not inside the walls, at least." She quirks an eyebrow, unravelling my lies with her gaze alone. I can feel my resolve crumpling. She moves closer yet, reaching for the belt loop I tore on the fence, rubbing the frayed edge. "You ripped your jeans. You don't use the gate, do you?"

"No. I use this hole I found near the north side."

"Then we need to fix that. Mutated could get in without us noticing."

"Nah. I cover it up when I come back."

She leans back, a soft sigh fluttering from her lips. Guilt surges in my chest.

I lean towards her, wrapping my hands around her shoulders.

"Ama. I'm fine."

"You know we try to discourage people from leaving on their own. Especially at night, without telling anyone." She folds her arms, not reacting to my touch.

Shit. She's pretty upset.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"But you're gonna do it again anyways."

She stares at me so squarely that I have to drop my gaze, swallowing. I can't promise her I won't. I've told her that lie a thousand times, and broken my promise a thousand more.

"It scares me, Teddy."

"I know."

"If something happened to you out there, no one would know for hours. You have no backup. We wouldn't even know where to start looking for you."

"I know."

"Do you?" Her dark gaze searches my face, making me burn with guilt.

"I do. I'm sorry."

"I can't lose you, Teddy."

"I know."

"And I know you don't always agree with our decisions, but the council has everyone's best interests in mind."

"I know, Ama. I trust the council—I trust you." I rub my thumbs against her shoulders, giving her a squeeze.

Her face finally softens. She unfolds her arms and cups one of her hands over mine, squeezing it gently.

"Let's just go to bed and talk about this again tomorrow."

"Yeah. Um... sorry if I kept you up."

She just smiles faintly, moving my hands off of her arms. She pushes aside the flap of our tent and ducks inside. I wait a moment, staring around the peaceful interior of the converted parking garage, then follow her in.

—

Like a sad attempt at normalcy, our group functions as a democracy, with the three council members being elected in. At twenty three, Ama is the youngest to get on the council—the other two are older, filled with plenty of knowledge of both the old world and of surviving the new. I'm called to see them the next morning, so I hurry to the uppermost level of the car park. Sunlight streams in through the open walls, asphalt damp with the humidity of California in summertime.

Ama is already deep in conversation with Winona when I arrive. The older woman has a dark face lined with age, scars across her arms boasting her ability to fight tooth and nail to survive. She carries herself with a regal demeanour, head high and chin jutted forward. The queen of the zombie apocalypse.

She reserves a kind smile for members of her group, though—even me. Maybe especially me. She gives it to me now as I approach, though it masks apprehension that I can tell is bubbling beneath the surface.

"Teddy. Come here."

I step closer. Ama shifts out of the way to let the third member of the council face me. Colton is forty-five and ex-military, with a permanent buzz cut he never learned to leave in the past and a cold grey stare. I've talked to him plenty, though—I know that the horrors of what he did in the war, the war that caused the mutations, plague him. Getting him to open up about his military past is harder than finding canned food in a place that's already been looted clean.

"What's up?"

"Ama says you were out alone last night."

Snitch, I mouth to her under my breath. She gives me a tight, forced smile.

Damn. I thought we'd worked it out.

"Teddy, please." Winona draws my attention. "We can't bend the rules just because you've been here with us since the start."

"But I'll be fine," I protest. "I know this side of San Francisco better than anyone."

"That may be true, but there could be any number of threats that you can't face alone. Hordes of mutated, hostile survivors, chemical hotspots. The list goes on."

"Even if I stumble into a hotspot, it doesn't mean I'll mutate. We don't know that I'm predisposed to it."

"Seventy-five percent are, Teddy. Best not to risk it."

I let out a long-suffering groan. "Winona..." I glance at Colton. "Back me up here."

He just ducks his head.

I sigh. "Fine. You don't want me to go alone? Send people to go with me."

"Teddy..."

"I'm serious!" I insist. "I've been thinking. We need to expand."

Colton cuts in. "Why the hell would we do that?"

"We can secure a few more blocks. We cleared out the mutated in this garage and the surrounding street five years ago, we can do it again and go out further. We know where all the nearby hotspots are—we can get them within our walls and barricade them properly so no one else wanders in. We could make things better."

"Things are better, Teddy," Ama breaks in. "Can't you see it? We haven't lost someone to mutated in over two years. We haven't even been attacked in a year and a half. The wall is working, people are rebuilding and starting families here. We have enough crops on the roof to feed us all—no one goes hungry anymore. We're safe. We're at peace. Things are good."

I can't argue. The difference between now and when we first settled into the garage are colossal—where I once bashed a mutated human's skull into the ground until I smashed it, splattering gore across the concrete, kids now play tag, their happy shrieks echoing through the garage. Three of our group members are pregnant, with little fear that their children will have to go through what they did to survive. Mutated still claw at the fence we built sometimes, the fence that I can still see specks of my blood on, but it holds strong.

People are happy.

But I can't be. The restlessness is getting to me. When I don't dream of unloading bullets into mutated chests, I lie awake, matching my breaths to Ama's slow exhales to try and lull myself to sleep. I itch for blood under my nails. I crave the fight.

Or maybe I just don't know how not to live like that anymore.

Winona is watching me, eyes dark and sympathetic. I glance at Colton.

"You understand, don't you?" I ask, voice weaker than I intended. "I can't stop. I can't just sit here with everyone else. Please. I'm going insane."

He presses his lips together in a faint smile, voice softer than usual when he speaks. "I do understand, Teddy. But I'm happy here just like the others, and I need to do what's best for them. And that means not putting myself in danger just for the thrill."

I duck my head, staring at the cracked concrete between my boots. Winona reaches for my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but this is our decision. We have to ask you not to leave the walls. Certainly not without others, and not without telling us. Do you understand?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"Alright." She gives my shoulder a pat. "If you're so desperate to leave the borders, Patrick is taking out a patrol of five later today. He still needs one more person."

I dip my head again. "Okay."

"Thank you, Teddy. You're dismissed."

I turn to go, Ama hurrying to catch up.