A low chuckle announced Laurence as he approached the fire. Wiping his face, he smiled wide at the light burning out before him.

“The bitch will live.” Droplets of blood and spit stained the skin of Laurence’s neck.

“What'd she do, cough on you?” Tish asked with a laugh.

“No, just a bit of spit. To be honest I expected more fight.” Laurence still looked amused. His eyes turned to the pile Tish rummage through near a slew of emptied packs. “What’d they have?”

Tish sat back on her haunches. “Water from the river. They filled up some canteens and empty plastic bottles before we got there. Topped up the last when we were leaving. It should be enough for two to three days if they’re careful. We could spread the supplies through their packs to make ours lighter. But only if we dump the junk they’re carrying.” She picked up a soggy teddy bear with two fingers and pulled it away from the pile.

“No, we need to keep what’s ours with us. Don’t want pack mules dipping into our supplies.” Laurence looked to Shannon. “Food?”

“Not a lot. Tins of beans.” Shannon shook the can in his hand, tapping the side of it with a can opener and a gleam in his eyes. “Bottle openers, baby food. They grabbed the best stuff but it’s fuckall heavy.”

Laurence nodded. “Split up the heavy junk but give us the bulk of the best.”

“You want us to carry that much food?” Shannon frowned. “Pain in the ass if you ask me.”

“Deal with it. I’d rather have it in a pinch. Tish,” He turned to her and the pile. “Make sure they have the excess water. We know how to find more.”

She nodded. “It rained a few days back so we should be good.” She started to section off the food and water into piles.

“What about meds?” Laurence asked, turning to Reid.

Reid had a pack in front of him, opened and rifled through. “Nothing of note. The old man carried this though; bag with some expired over the counter painkillers.” As he cataloged the pack, the bottles jingled. “The clean gauze on her neck, one of those travel sewing kits, a pocket knife and some handy wipes. I think they were using them for sterilization, which was a shit idea. Our stuff is better and it might keep them happy if we don’t steal all of their crap.”

“If it isn’t heavy, we could take some-”

Laurence cut Shannon short. “If we’re good, we’re good.”

“Then there’s these.” Tish leaned over a pile of weapons. They weren’t much to look at and what could be useful was in bad repair. “A couple of kitchen knives, an axe head and its broken handle. The lady’s shovel-”

“Tried to pry it from her but she looked ready to take my fuckin’ head.” Shannon sucked air in between his teeth as he fished out a travel spoon.

“No guns,” Tish went on. “Unless you count the broken one the kid-”

“Gun?” Laurence looked up from the fire to the pile. “What gun?”

“It’s broken,” Reid assured him.

“I don’t give a shit if it’s broken.” Their leader’s cruel eyes turned to Shannon. “You were supposed to collect all of their goddamn weapons.”

“Don’t look at me.” Shannon shrugged before waving at Reid. “I had it before Tight Ass here gave it back.”

A frustrated sigh left Reid’s lips as a smug grin lit Shannon’s.

“They lost their dad, Laurence. Can’t we give them a break? It’s broken.” Tish looked to Shannon and slapped his shin with a full bottle of water. “Right?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yeah, the thing’s a piece of crap.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t use it later.” Laurence’s lips tightened and his brow furrowed. “You all know we’ve got supplies at the college and could fix it up.”

“We don’t need more guns,” Reid sighed.

“The hell we don’t!” In an instant, Laurence turned towards the medic. “We need every damn edge we can get. So what you’re doing to do is-”

“I’m not taking that kid’s gun.”

Shannon sat up a little straighter. “I’ll do it.”

With a careful, dominant step Laurence drew nearer to Reid. “What did you say?”

Barely a foot between them, Reid refused to move. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He met Laurence’s borrowing glare, Reid’s just as focused, his own scowl unyielding.

A small smirk graced Laurence’s lips after a tense minute of silence.

“If the kid dies you’re going back to fish that fucking gun out of his pockets.” Laurence didn’t wait for Reid to respond before turning to the fire.

It’s just a fucking gun. They had dozens back at the college. Better ones. Rifles, shotguns, more reliable pistols. They’d left with the best and, had Shannon not lost the rifle a month back, they’d have come back with them too. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a difference Laurence thought one stupid gun would make.

It’s not about the gun. Read stepped back as Laurence gave up the fight. For now.

After Shannon opened a tin of beans and scooped himself a few spoonfuls, the tin made it around their small fire. Tish took it in hand but seemed to hesitate, her eyes looking back to the embers that glimmered a dozen feet away.

“So, I’ve gotta ask,” she started. Her eyes looked first to Reid and he frowned. Then she turned to Shannon who motioned, grandiosely, for her to continue. “Why are we bringing them?” Her voice dropped and she cast another quick glance over her shoulder at the stragglers.

Laurence raised an eyebrow at the question but didn’t answer. Instead, he licked his lips and pulled out an aluminum water bottle to take a slow drink.

“Why take on the risk?” Reid pressed when Tish seemed to give up on the inquiry.

Laurence stopped drinking and cast a dark look in his direction.

“You know I’m right. They’re a drain on supplies. They’ll slow us down. We’re looking at screaming kids that’ll give our position away the moment they’re spooked. The adults are either too scared or incapable of defending themselves and their kids. In a real fight, they’d be-”

“Cannon fodder.” The words dropped from Laurence in low tones.

Frowning, Reid looked between Laurence and the kids. He… isn’t kidding.

“I intend to survive and taking her-” Laurence motioned back to Ashley “back while she could walk, we could do it. Keep her tied up. Hell, she probably had enough supplies for herself. We could manage. But then she went and got bit-”

Shannon spat into the fire. “Fuckin’ rookie move.”

Tish kicked Shannon’s shin.

“You don’t mean to use them-” Reid tried to explain it away but Laurence cut him short.

“They can carry their own water. They can have just enough food to keep moving. We don’t run into trouble and they luck out on a safe home at the college. Maybe even get the fuck outta here. But if trouble comes,”

Reid stepped up to Laurence. “You sick son of a-”

Laurence grabbed Reid by the scruff of his shirt, and they scuffled back a step. Tish and Shannon jumped to their feet, as did a few shadows by the ember fire.

“Yeah, Lavelle. They’re fodder.”

“Get the fuck off of me!”

“What happens if you or Shannon dies?” Laurence went on without pause. His voice was a whisper, low enough for only the four of them to hear. “Or one of you gets sick? Who's gonna carry you? Better yet, who helps me carry her? Did you forget why we’re here? She is the fucking priority. We don’t matter. They don’t matter. Those kids are here for when shit hits the fan. We keep them fed just enough that when the wendigos come they have something small, squealing, and ripe enough to keep them off my goddamn back.”

“Jesus christ, Laurence. That…” Tish pleaded from behind.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Reid said, trying to push Laurence back.

“They’re a means to an end. This is what you signed up for.”

Shannon stepped closer. “Not to use kids as fuckin’ bait.”

Laurence laughed and his hot breath filled Reid’s nose. “But leavin’ them in the woods is fine?” Laurence finally tore his eyes from Reid to look between Tish and Shannon. “You have no problem doing that knowing it’s the same damn thing. They die. At least this way they help the rest of us survive.” In a gruff motion, Laurence pushed himself away from Reid. “And it’s not just us.”

Tish relaxed, as did Shannon, as shame flickered across their faces in the dim light.

But Reid’s chest went on pounding, pulsing with hot fury in his veins.

“If you want to play hero, if the wendigos come and you want to take care of that lot-” Laurence’s finger shot out to the ember fire where the stragglers watched in silence- “fine. But I’m taking her and I’m getting the fuck out of this place. If you want to survive, this is what it takes.”

There was no arguing the point but Reid couldn’t stand next to the man. He straightened his jacket and moved away from the fire, putting as much distance as he could between himself and Laurence.

Leaves crunched beneath his feet against the asphalt. The small park’s parking lot, just beyond the highway, was as safe a spot as they were going to find to rest. In the morning they’d take to the road and cover as much ground as they could. If they kept quiet they just might make it back alive. But how many of us…

He crouched before his charge and pulled her hair aside. A trickle of blood stained her lips in stark contrast to the pale tones of her skin. With each touch, her eyes flickered with fleeting seconds of awareness before she slumped back into the tree.

“Don't die on us.” Pulling back the ripped sweatshirt he lifted the gauze on the wound. It was still bleeding but the flow seemed to slow and the gauze wasn’t sopping.

As the impromptu medic, he’d seen his fair share of bites. He knew when someone was gone and when someone could fight it. Shannon had been scratched but would live, his immune system was strong. But this woman confused him.

The bite was deep and the wendigo that bit her was in an advanced state of decay. There was blood to blood in the bite. She should have turned in minutes. Instead, several hours after she was bit, he looked down at a living breathing woman. Severely ill but her pulse still throbbed when he pressed a finger to her jugular.

No rhyme or reason to you is there? Not four months before he’d watched a man three times her size turn in less than five minutes to a bite not half as severe. The memories of each man and woman he watched turn fluttered to the forefront of his mind. The more faces he carried the harder it was to remember them as distinct amidst the shades of pallid fever. At first, he assumed she'd be another visage of death but now he wasn't so sure.

For a while, she didn't move. He wiped away the blood that mixed with spittle on her face, the medic careful to avoid getting it on his skin.

The face he cleaned was unmistakable as the one on the infamous posters. Ashley Cazalla; thief, political radical, and the only person of interest in the release of the most deadly pathogen the world had ever known. Murderer of millions, the mother of all wendigos. Here she was in front of him, infected, wounded but not dying.

An uncomfortable thought solidified and he frowned. Something about this isn't right.