Survivors: The Long Road Ch.1 P2

“The one and only.”

“Oh thank god, you have no idea how worried I-“

“I think I have an idea, don’t you think like eighty texts and fifty-five voice mails are a bit much?”

He heard Julian huff on the other end. “After seeing that footage and knowing that’s where you went, can you blame me?”

“No, not really. I’m honestly surprised you aren’t driving here right now to kick my ass personally.”

“Oh don’t tempt me Upshur, do not tempt me.” Julian sighed and asked, “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Clearly you’re alive, so that’s good. Was that footage I sent you legitimate? Murkoff is already calling it fake, a promotional video but…shit that looked far too real.”

Miles took a deep breath and said, “Unfortunately yes, all that you saw was very, very, real.”

“I thought so.”

“I’m ok for right now, I’m not hurt, I just, Julian I need you to do something for me ok?”

“Yeah, of course, anything.”

“No, I really need you to promise me this.”

Julian’s voice grew more serious. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” Miles tried to sound lighthearted. “Listen, I got into something bad. I’m not in danger yet, but I’m with the Whistleblower from that asylum. I’m very afraid for his life. He’s the only other survivor and I need him for this case.”

“Does Murkoff know about you? I saw your Jeep at the end of that video, that’s how I knew you were there.”

“I don’t know yet, honestly they could know about me, I’m just not sure. For now I’m going to say they don’t, pray they don’t. I need those few extra days to escape with Mr. Park and disappear.”

“What did you need me to promise? Miles I’ll do anything.”

“I’m counting on that,” Miles said and leaned against the fridge. He glanced down at the children’s drawing and managed a smile. “I need you to do absolutely nothing ok?”

“What?”

“You heard me Jules, nothing. This case is…it’s nothing like what I’ve covered before. It’s… it’s fucking crazy, for lack of a better term. I cannot risk any more lives.”

“Miles you know I can’t-“

“You can and will,” Miles interrupted. “Damn it Jules I’m in way over my head.”

“Then let me help you! The two of us can handle this. We’re stronger together.”

“I won’t risk your life.”

Julian laughed. “That’s awful sweet of you, but I’m twenty-nine and don’t need you protecting me.”

“Like hell you don’t!” Miles tried to calm down. “The stuff I saw…the shit I’ve been through…just Julian Murkoff isn’t joking with this one. They’ll want whoever knows the truth dead. And I don’t want to get you killed.”

“Not good enough,” Julian said. Miles could imagine his stance now, arms crossed, eyes hard and set.

“Fine,” Miles gave in, just a bit. “How about this? Follow my lead on this one. Don’t investigate on your own, don’t poke around, don’t give Murkoff a reason to suspect you. If they discover me, when they discover me, lets be real, they’ll start digging through my friends.”

“We’ve been through this before. I haven’t seen you since college; we worked on a few projects before you went independent, same drill as always. Code words, fake names, and our backup emails.”

“I’m going to try to wrap up my counter report in a month. Hopefully after that this will all be over. If it goes south, which it might, I’ll be backing everything up on my servers. You still have all the passwords right?”

“Of course. And the ones to your blogs, and site.”

“Good. If shit goes south, if I die-“

“Don’t say that.”

“If I die Julian. I need you to pick up where I left off.”

Julian snorted. “Oh so it’s perfectly fine for me to risk my life after you die but not while you’re still breathing and I can help save you? That makes a lot of sense.”

“I know, I know. I’m being stupid, I get it. I just…I want to handle this myself if I can. But, but I can’t let Murkoff get away with this if they catch me. They can’t win. You’re my backup; I need you to be alive to carry the torch.”

“So you don’t want all your eggs in the same basket? Is that what this is?”

“Yeah. Listen, I know it’s shitty, just please don’t get involved yet.”  There was no answer on the other end. “Julian.”

“Ok, ok, I won’t.”

“Thanks. I gotta go, listen I’ll be in touch.”

“Miles-“

“And Jules, for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry I worried you.”

“I thought you were dead,” he admitted softly.

“I would have come to the same conclusion, and I regret putting you through that. My cell died and things got hectic. I just…I’m sorry ok?”

“Apology accepted. Don’t get killed out there Upshur.”

“I’ll try not to. Talk to you later.”

“Later,” Julian promised.

Miles hung up and stared at the ceiling. He trusted Julian with his life, with everything. If he was thinking straight he’d be running straight to him, using him instead of Waylon, but deep down he knew that it wasn’t the right course of action. This was the safest route for everyone involved. The thought did cross his mind to send Mr. Park’s family to him, Julian could shelter them while he finished the report, but even that was too risky. He hated worrying Julian but there was no other way around it this time.

This story was way larger than anything he’d ever hoped of covering. He wasn’t lying when he said he was in over his head, he was practically drowning. R swirled around him briefly, offering his support through the static. Miles wasn’t as alone as he thought he was, and that gave him a bit of strength, a bit of courage. And he’d need all that courage and more for his next phone call. He walked back into the living room and dug around in his backpack. He was looking for a very specific piece of paper, one with a name and number written in perfect lettering. “Just one more call Mr. Park,” Miles said, “then we can discuss more.”

Miles stood up and walked to the sliding glass door again. He’d been dreading this call for over a week. He dialed the number and waited. It was still early in the morning, and he wasn’t sure if anyone would even pick up, but he had to give it a try before his bravery ran out.

The phone rang several times before a male voice answered. Miles frowned and asked, “Is this the Annapurna residence?”

“It is, may I ask who’s calling?”

Miles took a deep breath. “I’m a friend of David’s; I need to speak with his wife Ana, if she’s available.”

“You’re a friend of dad’s?” The voice on the other line asked. Miles remembered that David had a son named Edward. Apparently he just graduated from school not too long ago, he was going to be a doctor, David was very proud.

“Yeah,” Miles said. “It’s important that I speak with her.”

“Right, hold on one moment,” Miles could hear him call for his mom.

A few moments later someone else answered the phone. “Hello, this is Ana.”

“Hello, Ana. My name is Miles Upshur,” he said. He wasn’t going to lie to her, no fake names, no hiding, this was the truth. “I have some information regarding your husband, David.”

“I saw that footage, that horrible awful footage. Who are you?”

“I’m a reporter; I went to Mount Massive on the day of the riot, when that footage was shot. It’s true, all of it. It’s not a marketing campaign for a movie.” He heard the woman on the other end take a breath before Miles continued. “I want you to know that David didn’t die in that massacre ok? He wasn’t mutilated; he didn’t get murdered, or shot.”

“So what happened to him?”

“Murkoff hurt him,” Miles said. “They performed experiments on him, and they, they really hurt him.”

“But why?” She asked. “He was just an Orderly. They told me he was sick…They were lying weren’t they?”

“Yes. David was a hero, though not many will ever know it. I want you to know right now that he did not hurt anyone while employed by Murkoff. He never harmed another patient, he was always kind. But he started to catch on that something wasn’t right, that people under his care were being transferred and never seen again. He started asking questions, and when they weren’t answered he requested a transfer to a different location. When he was ignored he threatened to blow the whistle, call the authorities to investigate. That threat wasn’t taken too well and they forcibly imprisoned him.”

“I knew it…” Ana said softly, “I knew he didn’t leave us.”

“David was a remarkable man, and it’s because of him that I survived the riot and the fallout after it alive. I’d be dead a hundred times over without him.”

There was a lengthy pause before Ana worked up the courage to ask the question that Miles knew was coming. “So why are you telling me all this instead of him?”

“I think you already know the answer, Ms. Annapurna. Your husband isn’t alive, I’m so very sorry.” Miles waited a few moments to let the confirmation sink in. “The experiments that Murkoff did, the patients you saw with deformities, that’s what happened to David. These experiments cause a form of rapid spreading cancer, that’s what killed David,” Miles said. “I was there when he died, by his side. He wasn’t alone.”

More silence greeted Miles on the end but he continued talking. “Before he died he asked me to tell you something. He made me promise to make you promise not to go after Murkoff. He didn’t want you or your son to end up dead trying to avenge him. Instead he left the burden of justice on my shoulders, and I will not stop until either every bastard responsible is brought to court or I die.”

“And just who do you think you are? How can I even trust a word you’re saying?”

Miles shrugged helplessly, even though he knew Ana could not see it. “You’ll just have to go on faith. I’m an investigative journalist, and I went through the same hell your husband did. I was close to David, I know that sounds stupid, we only knew each other for a few short weeks, but I was. He saved my life and now it’s time for me to pay him back.”

Waylon watched and eavesdropped on the conversation. It was clear to him that Miles was calling the wife of a former staff member of Mount Massive. And the more he listened, the more it dawned on him that Miles could have ended up calling Lisa instead. Miles could be reporting back his own untimely demise, and it could be his wife on the other line, trying not to cry as she realizes her sons are without a father and her bed will be half empty and colder. One misstep, one wrong room, and that could easily be him. If he had breathed too hard in a locker, picked a bad bed to hide under or didn’t struggle hard enough he’d be dead.

These thoughts had plagued him since he escaped the asylum and was lying on a clean hospital bed. But never had they seemed so real. Miles was calling the wife of a whistleblower who didn’t make it back home. Miles was calling someone who was one mistake away from being Lisa.

“So please,” Miles said, “promise me, and promise David you’ll stick to the sidelines. Watch the news, follow the story and don’t for a second believe anything the mainstream media tells you. Murkoff is a dangerous and powerful force in this world and they have a choke hold over the media. You and your family will be safe if you don’t draw attention to yourselves. Take whatever condolences the company gives you, stay silent, pretend to buy every single thing they tell you. And when their world comes crashing down you burst out of hiding and make it so they don’t forget you or forget David. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he heard Ana say, a newfound strength was present in her voice. “Yes I think I can.”

“Great. Now, if you have a pen handy I want to give you some of my contact info. Reach out to me anytime if you feel you’re in trouble. I’ll do my best to help, or get you to someone who can help.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

Miles smirked and said, “In my line of work there’s a wide, interconnected, network of people who are very good at poking things they shouldn’t and lying low when the thing they poked comes roaring to life.” Miles rattled off a few phone numbers, multiple email addresses and both his websites. He hoped that would be enough. “Thank you for speaking with me, Ana. And I’m truly sorry about David.”

“As am I…you know? It might sound harsh, or callus of me to say, but... I’ve thought David was dead for months now. I grieved him once, and now that I know the truth about him, it might actually be easier grieving the second time.”

“You’re a strong woman, Ana, someday maybe I’ll get a chance to meet you.”

“I’d like that, and Mr. Upshur? Thank you for calling. Thank you for telling me the truth when no one else would.”

And then the call ended and Miles was left staring out at an empty backyard with nothing but static ringing in his ears. “Mr. Park?” Miles asked when he turned to face Waylon. “Why are you crying?”

Waylon hurriedly wiped the tears away and muttered, “It’s nothing. Nothing.” He had to pull himself together if he had any hopes of surviving the mess he caused. “Are you ok?” He asked instead. “You’re shaking, tough call? You sounded like you knew them.”

“I didn’t, not really. David was just a patient I met in Mount Massive, we became good friends. It was… His death was hard on me.” Miles bent down to dig through his computer bag when he froze. When he held out his hand it was shaking uncontrollably.

Worry flooded his static and R responded silently, whispering in his mind. “Host, We do not wish to cause you panic, but you should feed soon. We did not interrupt your phone calls as they seemed important but now that you are free and aware We advise you to obtain food.”

Miles thought at the Walrider, “How long? How long do I have before I lose control? It’s been so long since I’ve skipped a meal.”

“You are in no immediate danger. At best thirty minutes, at worst ten.”

“That’s not a lot of time.”

“You’ll get better at judging your hunger, We promise.” The static seemed reassuring to Miles. R was confident and that feeling traveled to Miles.

“Hey, Park,” Miles said as calmly as he could. “Are there any fast food restaurants nearby? Burger joints?” Waylon hesitated and Miles continued. “What about a grocery store?”

“Why?”

“I’m hungry, starving actually. And I won’t inconvenience you by eating all your food. However I will inconvenience you by asking you to drive me to the nearest one.”

“Y-Yeah they just built a new fast food place down the block. They should serve all sorts of artery clogging burgers.”

“Perfect.” Miles stood and shoved his hands in his pockets, the less chances he gave Waylon to see them shaking the better. “Mind driving me there? We can take my Jeep.”

“Don’t you want to drive?” Waylon questioned. “It is your car.”

“I don’t know where I’m going,” Miles said simply. “You could get me to food faster.”

“And why the hurry?”

Miles smiled; he hoped it didn’t look predatory. “I’ve been eating canned beans for three weeks; a cheeseburger is going to be heaven to me.”

Waylon couldn’t argue with that. It was hard living in that hellhole for a few days; he didn’t want to imagine surviving there for weeks like Miles had. “Sure, sure, let me grab my wallet and we can head out.”

Miles went to his Jeep and hopped into the passenger seat. From there he fished out his own wallet from under the seat and looked through his cash. He had a couple tens and a twenty in between gas receipts and bank notes. “Gonna need more than this,” Miles muttered. He’d make one big withdrawal of cash as soon as he found one of his banks. He wanted to avoid leaving a paper trail as soon as possible. The quicker he could start making all cash payments the better. “Hey R? How much do you think I’ll have to eat daily to stay healthy?”

“Several pounds at least.”

Miles rubbed the back of his head. “That’s going to cost money,” he thought. “A whole lot of money.” Even a constant intake of fast food would rack up a bill Miles was uneasy thinking about. They’d have to figure this out sooner or later, but right now Miles putting it in the “later” category. Saving the Parks was his first concern and that involved fleeing Colorado as quickly as possible. Waylon joined him and they pulled out of the driveway and started down the road. Miles kept his eyes trained on the houses passing by. “Cute town,” he said when they hit a main street type road.

“It is,” Waylon said. “Lisa and the boys love it here.”

“And you?”

Waylon chuckled. “Before I left to work with Murkoff I thought I could do with some more people, a few more stores, better internet.” He kept his eyes on the road. “But now? Now I wouldn’t mind being in a town all by myself.”

“Shit hasn’t been easy for you since you escaped,” Miles guessed. “If I was smarter I’d be like you. But for some reason…shit I just can’t wait to get back into civilization.”

“Something tells me I’ll be shut up in your apartment for the duration of our stay in a bigger city. You can enjoy the crowds and noise, not my thing anymore.”

Miles nodded. “I understand, don’t worry about it. My place might be small but it’s-”

“Upshur?” Waylon turned to look at Miles when he didn’t respond. “You ok?” Miles was bent over, a pained expression on his face.

He started to pull over when Miles growled, an actual growl, “Don’t stop, please just get me to the restaurant.”

“What’s wrong with you?” There was a tinge of panic edging its way into Waylon’s voice.

“Try not to freak out,” Miles groaned and grit his teeth. “Part of my…condition dictates that I need to eat constantly or I’ll lose control of the Walrider portion of myself.”

“You said you were safe!” Waylon said, his voice near a shout. “This doesn’t sound very safe to me!”

Miles wanted to roll his eyes and laugh it off, but hunger stabbed his gut and suddenly Waylon smelled really appetizing. “I am safe,” Miles said through clenched teeth. “In the asylum I had access to as much food as I needed, but I had to walk down that damn mountain. I haven’t had a decent meal in almost a day.”

“What happens if you don’t eat?” Waylon dared to ask.

Miles lifted his head and Waylon flinched. He could feel the nanites swirl his body and cover his skin. “You don’t want to find out,” he said. “Just drive a bit faster if you can.”

Waylon stepped on the gas. He couldn’t help taking quick glances at Miles every block or so. The man was straddling the line between monster and human and it made Waylon want to crash the car and kill them both. But after viewing the other survivor’s footage he realized that a simple car crash probably wouldn’t even slow him down. “Can you make it?”

“Yeah,” Miles said with a bit more confidence. He was taking careful, calculated breaths and focusing on keeping himself grounded. The distant memory of a makeshift church and a chorus of broken voices flooded to the front of his mind. There was a time in that church where he felt similar hunger pangs as he was feeling now. Only then it was focused on his friend David and not Waylon. Before he was able to struggle through it, and he was going to do it again.

“Breathe in,” R said into his mind. “Breathe out.” Miles did as instructed. “In once more Host. You are doing fine. In, out.” Miles gripped his pants tightly and concentrated on R’s voice in his head. So far he was winning against his instincts. They came on far faster than Miles had anticipated, but he was holding them off. Just one breath at a time. He could feel his claws come in, and his teeth too, he was swiftly losing the battle of looking human. Through the fog and static he managed to pull the collar of his jacket up over his face and neck more, in case someone happened to look at him through the car window. “So much for my first day going smoothly,” Miles muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Miles clenched his teeth again. “It was nothing, just me bitching.”

Waylon’s eyebrows furrowed and he pushed the Jeep over the speed limit and prayed no local cop would catch him. When he reached the fast food place he pulled in and parked crooked. “What now?”

Miles chanced a look at himself in the review mirror and dug out his wallet. “I can’t go inside, not when I look like this.” That and he didn’t want to eat any of the innocent people inside. He pulled out several bills and his credit card. “Get as much as you can, preferably meat. Burgers, chicken strips, I’m not picky. I don’t care about fries or a drink, just get meat.” Waylon took the money from him; both of their hands were trembling in equal amounts. “If there’s not enough cash put it on my card, the pin is 1987.”

“And you’ll be ok in here?”

“Just go!” Miles said, a bit too harsh, and a bit too loud. Waylon didn’t hesitate after that and hurriedly exited the Jeep, limping into the store. “Fuck,” Miles said leaning back.

R was quick to comfort him. “You’re doing well Host, you have not snapped at the human.”

Miles rubbed his eyes and growled. The smell of cooking food was making his stomach turn and his instincts scream. Even with both windows up he could smell the food, and people, inside with disturbing clarity. “This better not become a daily occurrence,” Miles snarled at R. “There’s no way we’ll make it out of Colorado without being spotted at this rate.”

“Stockpile food in the vehicle Host, it shouldn’t be too difficult.” R tried to sooth Miles, calm his nerves a bit. He was quite proud of how his Host was handling things. If they had been experiencing this same event two weeks ago R was certain that Miles would have slaughtered the people in the restaurant by now. His control had vastly improved.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult, says the one who has never been inside a grocery store. Do you even know how much money this is going to cost?”

“Then we will steal.”

Miles groaned and pressed his head into hands. “R…” He dropped the subject and turned his eyes to the restaurant. “Damnit Park…hurry the fuck up.” So far he was holding out, but there was a part of him screaming for release. R was still reassuring him and instructing his breathing when Waylon did emerge from the building.

He had two large bags in his hands and Miles could smell the meat, it was nearly overwhelming. Waylon opened the Jeep door and handed over the bags of food to Miles. R had evaporated into nothing. Miles snatched the bags out of Waylon’s hands and pulled out the first burger. He didn’t unwrap it and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, paper and all.

Waylon watched in a combination of disgust and curiosity as Miles ripped into the food. The other man shoved meat into his mouth; he didn’t even look like he was pausing to chew. It didn’t look pleasant or pleasurable for the other, he almost looked pained. Finally the crazed eating seemed to slow and Miles’ features returned to a human state.

“S-Sorry about that,” Miles choked out. He took the time to unwrap this burger and tried to eat like a normal person, not a ravenous beast. “I’m good now, I promise.” He wiped his face with one of the numerous napkins in the bag. Miles pulled down the bag and checked to see how many he had left. “Want one?” He offered.

“No, no, they’re all yours,” Waylon said weakly. “Besides I uh, I lost my appetite watching you.”

Miles sighed and continued eating. His heart had stopped hammering and his mind was clearing up. He felt ok again. “I really am sorry,” Miles apologized again. “It’s…hard, being the host. There are challenges I never had to face before that I do now. The main one being my appetite.”

Waylon turned the key and started the car. “Why? What makes you eat like that? You plowed through seven double quarter pound burgers in a matter of minutes.”

He took another bite and answered the best he could. “There are cells inside my body that aren’t my own; they belong to the Swarm, the Walrider. Part nanite, part organic they course through my blood just like any red blood cell. They’ve turned parts of my body into mini factories that create their cells instead of mine.” Miles took a few more bites of burger and went on. “The added strain of nanite production burns far too much energy. My metabolism spiked and my appetite did as well. I have to eat or I’ll start dying. If I start dying…well, the other part of me takes over to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“So as long as you’re kept fed you’ll be fine.”

“That’s about it,” Miles said. “Sorry I sprang this on you. I was hoping we could ease into this whole “I’m not human” thing, but we can’t always get what we want.” He pawed through the bag and took out a box of chicken nuggets. “Woah, they still sell fifty-four piece chicken nuggets? I thought they outlawed these things long ago.” Miles chuckled. “Save humans from themselves, because they’ll actually order and eat this shit.” Miles popped one in his mouth and chewed. “Though, here I am, eating it.”

“How can you be so calm?” Waylon asked, bewildered. “Aren’t you even the least bit concerned? You were just a few steps away from being a monster. How can you be joking?”

Miles grinned. “I’ve been alone in that asylum for weeks getting used to this, I guess I forgot how normal people should react.” Miles turned his eyes to the houses and said, “You lose a bit of yourself in that place, I’m sure you understand. But living there, seeing so many dead bodies, so much blood, it…you forget what reality is like, what the world is like.” Miles shrugged. “I guess I’m just desensitized. If it makes you feel any better I was pretty embarrassed back there. You had to watch me eat like an animal, I’m not proud of that.”

“So you just shrug it off?”

“Yeah. Humor and sarcasm to cover my real emotions is sort of standard with me.” Miles ate a few more chicken nuggets. “Besides R will keep tabs on my hunger from now on. We slipped up today, but it won’t happen again. We’ll iron out the kinks, don’t worry.”

“We? R? What are you talking about?”

Miles closed the lid on the chicken nuggets. “Since I’m dropping bombs left and right today, want another?”

“There’s more?” Waylon asked, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“Just one last thing. Another big one, you might want to pull over.”

Waylon did so and took the Jeep into a side street and stopped it. “Ok…go for it.”

“Well, R is a pet name I’ve given to the Walrider.”

“But you…you’re the Walrider.”

“Nope,” Miles said. “I’m the host not the Walrider.” He commanded R to materialize and he popped in from the back seat. “Mr. Park, meet the Walrider, R, Mr. Park.”

R stuck out his hand in a friendly greeting but Waylon had screamed and pressed himself against the door. “That’s rude Host.”

“R it’s only natural, don’t take it personally.”

Waylon had opened the door and tumbled outside, scooting away from the car. “Stay away!” Waylon said when Miles exited to join him.

“Hold on Park, settle down. Don’t…” he made R disappear again. “Don’t panic, please.”

“This is too much, you’re too much.”

Miles leaned against the side of his Jeep and folded his arms. “Maybe so,” he said calmly. “I can’t say that I blame you. You went through the same hell I did, only you came out with anxiety and PTSD and I came out a near god.” Not to say that Miles wasn’t also concerned about his own mental health. But he was riding a high and hadn’t come down yet. “But this is it; everything is out on the table now. There are no more secrets.”

“So that…thing, it’s separate?”

He nodded. “R, or the Walrider, is a separate entity from the Swarm, and from me, the Host. However, he’s under my direct control. I’m not sure how much I can explain without going into super detail, but he’s basically a parasite. He lives off of my body and acts as a type of manager, fixing any injuries, directing my cells and controlling my food energy consumption.” Miles tried to give Waylon a comforting smile. “He has a personality of his own, can communicate with me through the static, and his sense of self is stored within in my brain. We’re inseparable unless I die.”

“You named it? That horrible monster?” The shock was beginning to wear off and Waylon was starting to think more critically.

“Well…when you have something that lives inside your mind and is a constant companion you sorta get close. I’m not saying we’re best friends or anything, but I gave him a name and we’re trying to make the best of things.” Miles turned to where R was sitting in the backseat, still invisible to a normal human. “He’s on our side, we’ve agreed as parasite and host that it would be mutually beneficial to work together. He doesn’t want me to die; I don’t want to die. Honestly, he just wants to see the world.”

“So it’s not dangerous?”

“Oh sure he’s dangerous, we’re Project Walrider. But we don’t want to be dangerous. He won’t do anything I don’t want him to do, and I don’t want to be a killer. You’ll just have to trust me on that.” Miles looked down at Waylon and tried to judge his emotions. The man was hard to read, he was scared, Miles could easily see that, but there was something else, trust? Miles wasn’t so sure. “Like I said, if I make you too uncomfortable I’ll leave. I’ll vanish from your life and you and your wife can protect your family on your own.”

“But you’d like me to come with you?”

Miles nodded. “I would really, really, appreciate it if you came with me to help.”

“It won’t hurt me?”

“Nope. He’s completely fine, I promise.”

“Ok.”

Miles bent down and offered his hand. Waylon stared at it for a moment before he grasped it firmly and Miles helped him to his feet. “Ok.” Miles tried not to sound too relived when he said, “Us survivors gotta stick together alright? Because that’s what we are, survivors.”