Two - Kyle

Miles said it. We'd made the decision before knowing we'd be taking an extra addition along with us. When the base commander tells you that the smartest person on the base, the one working to reverse this shitstorm, needs runners for something and requested you personally, well, you don't just turn that shit down. But I sure as hell wasn't going to pretend to be happy the girl tagging along. No matter how damn cute she was.

We were great. No close calls or bites. Nothing. But Miles, Joel, and I had been a team since long before any of this mess. We'd been working together for years and trusted one another implicitly. I knew we could keep each other alive, through in this girl, though, and I wasn't so confident. I doubted she'd ever held a knife for more than to cut her steak with.

End of the damn world as we knew it and Ella Fairchild walked in wearing lipstick. That was about all I needed to know that one way or another, this girl would be the death of me. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a high pony tail and her warm brown eyes were accented by thick black plastic frames that she kept scrunching her nose to keep up on her face. She had just come from the clinic with Dr. Summers and for the most part, she had the scientist look down. Except for the red lipstick. She was... not the kind of girl I expected to volunteer to go outside the gates. Ella was the kind of girl I wanted to take back to my room to see what her hair looked like spread across my pillow, not the kind I wanted to take outside these gates, into danger.

But I didn't have much choice.

"You're fucking serious with this aren't you?"

Joel wasn't thrilled about taking Ella along either, though his reasons were more personal. He'd get over it.

"What else do you suggest?"

He paced across the floor as we all packed our bags and I packed an additional one for Ella. He stopped, noticing the fourth bag and rolled his eyes.

"You think she's gonna be able to carry that?"

"She doesn't have a choice." I expected her to have a lot of trouble shouldering forty pounds of weight on her back for hours at time, days on end, but she needed the gear. I worked to make hers lighter, spreading out what I could between the three of us, but the fact of the matter was, she needed to carry her own weight.

"What if this is wrong?" He asked. "She made zombies. On. Purpose. What if they get this H-whatever and make it even worse?"

"Come on, Joel. I doubt it can get worse," Miles pointed out.

"You really wanna find out?"

"It doesn't matter," I interrupted. "You see the way she looked? That girl didn't do anything on purpose and she's what? Twenty, maybe? You really think she knew what she was doing?"

"That's not the point."

"You're right, because it's decided already. We're going and we're taking her with us."

"She ain't makin' it back."

Yeah. I hadn't been too sure about that either; it was why I'd fought against her coming to begin with. "It's our job to make sure she does."

Joel rolled his eyes, but he went back to getting his bag packed, so I counted it as a win. "Why ain't she here?"

Miles smirked. "She said she was going to pack."

"Just what the hell does she think she's gonna pack? Her makeup?"

Miles laughed, joining in as he said, "Twenty bucks says she shows up wearing to glittery shoes."

We hadn't stopped her when she mumbled that she was heading off to pack because she'd practically sprinted for the door. I figured she needed some time to give herself a pep talk for this trip; she looked like the kind of person who needed internal pep talks. I could physically see it happening when she stepped up to me, calling me out for acting like an asshole. It had taken a lot not to smile when she said her piece and looked so proud of herself you'd think she'd just won a prize. She was cute as hell, but I hadn't let myself smile. Girls like Ella weren't cut out for the world and I had intended to convince her of that, only giving in when it was clear I didn't have another choice.

"I'll talk to her, make sure she understands." Miles lips curled in and his brow shot up. "What?"

"Maybe I should do it," he suggested. "I don't think she liked you, dude."

"She doesn't have to like me."

I knocked on the thin of the cargo container I was directed to. Hundreds of them lined the way, each filled with a family or fashioned into duplexes for smaller or lone survivors. Ella's was a duplex and her neighbor, an older man, was sitting on a folding chair in front of his half, smoking a cigarette. He raised an eyebrow curiously as I waited. The door swung open and Ella pulled back, surprised when she recognized me. Her brown eyes brightened with fire as they narrowed. And fuck me, because it was a sexy look on her.

"Kyle," she said shortly, running one hand through her shoulder-length hair that had been pulled from its pony-tail.

"Don't sound so happy to see me," I said inviting myself in. Ella quickly moved out of the way as I walked into her room.

"What are you doing here?" I smiled that she wasn't snapping at me. The way she was staring at me made me think that maybe she'd imagining the same things I had. For a second, I considered making the move. I could cross the distance between us and kiss the scowl off her lips and something told me she wouldn't stop me. As if she could read my mind, her gaze lowered to my mouth and her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. Her eyes were still narrowed, but I didn't think that mattered because she wanted me. I bet I could do a hell of a lot more than kiss her full lips. Hook ups hadn't ever been my thing. It may have made me a pussy, but I liked emotion. I didn't fuck around, I dated. But for all intents and purposes the world had ended; there weren't a lot of dating options left. And it'd been long enough since I'd heard a pretty girl moan my name that I'd be okay with one night.

I blinked.

That was a bad idea. With Ella, I knew it wouldn't just be one night. I was stuck with her for the foreseeable future and regardless how she was looking at me now, she'd hate me by the end of tomorrow. I had to accept she was coming with, but I didn't have to go easy on her.

Not one to mix business with pleasure, I cleared my throat and with it, the tension that had settled between us.

Stay professional.

"I drew the short straw," I said because I was an ass, and she was cute when she was pissed. Not exactly the most professional thing I could have said, but I knew it would be easier to resist pinning her against the wall if she hated me. Her jaw dropped, offended, and her face scrunched up until there was a little wrinkle above her nose.

"Short straw?" She asked, reluctantly.

"Yep." I leaned against the wall. "I drew short and had to come here to talk to you." I grinned. "Make sure you weren't packing make up and high heels."

Her jaw went from clenched to dropped comically fast and she crossed her hands over her chest. Her mouth bobbed open and closed as she looked for something to say. I knew the moment she had it because she straightened and narrowed her eyes on me while her lips pulled into a confident smirk. Whatever she had to say, I knew it would be good.

"Listen you giant, arrogant caveman, your little assumptions don't embarrass me, they only make you look like a complete jerk and a misogynistic pig." She paused before adding, "And a fool."

I swallowed a chuckle, but I a little impressed. She had more spunk that I had thought. Maybe it was being in her own home that gave her the extra courage. I wondered if come tomorrow morning she would be back to the timid girl she was earlier. I hoped not. This one... she seemed like someone who had a chance out there, but the other one? Not so much. I smiled. I'd been called some name before but the way she called me a fool, like it was the worst insult she could imagine... I had to smile.

"If you think that just because you have a nice smile I'm going look past your jerkish ways, you can just think again, buddy."

Buddy? Did she really just call me Buddy? It was like her insults were taken straight out some after school special.

"You think I have a nice smile?" I asked instead of teasing her for the lame insults. Her cheeks turned a faint pink color and she looked away realizing what she'd let slip.

Huh. Good to know.

No. No. Not good to know. Keep it professional, you jackass.

Keeping her gaze down she changed the subject. "What did you need to talk about?"

I thanked God she switched the subject back to the mundane. That's where it needed to stay.

I slung the bag I'd packed her off my shoulder and on the neatly made bed. The perfectly made bed. I looked around her home, her room, really, because that's all these places were, just a room - all bathrooms, showers, and food were community - wasn't what I had envisioned. Actually, it didn't look all that different from mine. Ella's room was really nothing more than a bed with a government issued gray blanket. The small desk had a notebook opened and a pen was still resting on a half written page. I bet that's what she'd been doing when I knocked, writing something. I couldn't help but wonder what was written on the page. The chest at the foot of the bed, also government issued, was closed with nothing hanging out of it or anything to suggest it was filled to the brim. The room was empty and if it weren't for the pen and half written page on the desk, I would have questioned if anyone actually lived here. My room didn't look all that different, but I wasn't often in my room. Most people had pictures, a quilt from home... something that personalized it.

I opened the bag and pulled out the few things packed at the very top. If she was going to be one of us, she was going to look the part. I unfolded the clothes, showing them too her. I had guessed on her size, but we didn't have much smaller so if they didn't fit, there wasn't a lot I could do about it.

"Tactical pants," I said, tossing her the olive green pants. "You have this pair and another in the pack you'll be carrying. They dry quick, they move easy, and they'll hold your shit. You got a belt if they're too big." She nodded, holding them out, inspecting them. I tossed her the black teeshirt and socks. "You'll have two more of those in the pack. Wear these tomorrow. You don't need to pack anything else. That bag is full."

She took the time to neatly fold each of the things I'd tossed her before placing them on top of the chest in a stack. When she turned back to face me, she chewed on her bottom lip. It was clear she wanted to say something, but for some reason she was keeping her mouth shut.

"What is it?"

"It's just... well..." She gave me a look that said I should understand what she was getting at, but I was lost. "I might need to pack a couple other things."

"Two pairs of pants, some socks and shirts are all you get, princess. We can find somewhere to wash them if they get too dirty."

Frustrated, she rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh. Her eyes locked on me, the brown turning almost fiery. "Unless it's just policy that we all go commando, I'd like to pack a couple bras and panties." She paused, giving me a long, hard look. "If that's not too high maintenance for you manly men."

"Oh." I ran a hand through my hair feeling a little stupid for not considering. And... now I was picturing her panties. Real professional, Kyle. I didn't quite know what to say. I felt like a jackass and I felt damn awkward. A light giggle had me looking up, surprised. Until that second I honestly worried she was lacking all sense of humor.

"It was the word panties, wasn't it?" She asked, smiling wide. For the first time since we had met she didn't look intimidated or pissed off at me. It was sort of nice. "Not so big and scary any more, are ya?"

"I got you boots too," I said, changing the subject. "Don't bring those stupid sparkly things."

"Sir, yes, sir," she said with a salute. I'd seen children pull off a better salute but the cheeky effort had me smiling... and damn confused. I had no idea where this sarcastic, funny side of her came from. The timid, pretty girl I met? I could've made her hate me. I could have kept my distance. But this confident, funny, totally sexy girl she was acting like now... keeping it professional would be harder than I thought.

I managed to keep my lips from twitching long enough to ask. "I thought you were scared of me?"

Briefly, she was taken aback by the blunt question. "I find you intimidating," she answered honestly. "And I think you're a bit of a jerk. And you are a little scary, but I am not scared you. I trust you with my life. If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked for your help."

"Fair enough." I looked around again at the empty room. "I'd tell you not to bring too much in the way of personal affects, but it doesn't look like you have much."

"Don't say that like you feel sorry for me. Lots of people have nothing. Next time you want to feel sorry for me, remember it's my fault that you were pulled out of the nice retired life and whatever relaxing day job you had and forced into an unpaid career as a professional zombie killer."

I'll be honest, I thought she'd said what she said to Joel just to egg him on. I didn't think she'd actually held her self so accountable, but the way she just spoke wasn't bitter or filled with sarcasm, it was in earnest. I guess that explained why she was so eager to be the one to go.

"Zombie killer is cooler job title than mechanic and the pay isn't much worse," I told her. She didn't look convinced, but it wasn't my job to convince her of anything. If she wanted to shoulder guilt that wasn't hers, that was her prerogative. "I'll let you enjoy you're evening," I said. "Don't be late."