Mercy Fairbanks's Story

Violet Fairbanks woke with a start. The first thing she registered was that she was in a tiny black room. She was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and if she reached her arms out on both sides, she could place her palms flat against the walls. It took her a second to remember that she was in a janitors closet. After the outbreak, Violet had figured the safest place was the news station. After all, they had a helicopter right?

Unfortunately, her and Mercy had to learn that the city was encased in a dome the hard way. By crashing a news helicopter into it. Needing somewhere to sleep, Violet had found a tiny janitors closet and, though it was cramped, it was the safest place she could think of at the time. She glanced at her watch. It'd only been two hours. Damn.

On her lap, her little sister Mercy slept peacefully, arms wrapped tightly about her waist, head pillowed in her thigh. Violet might be tempted to stroke her sister's blonde-and-pink hair with a smile if it weren't for the loud banging that filled the room. What the hell? She snapped her head up to find that the door was shuddering as if something was throwing itself against it over and over again. SHIT!

The bolts on the door were beginning to give way and Violet reacted instantly, kicking her legs up against the wood to hold it closed. The shuddering of the wood against her feet shook her and she woke Mercy roughly. "Honey-bee." She hissed in the darkness and slapped a dagger into the sleepy eleven year-olds hand. "Crisis." It took Mercy less than a second to realize what was going on and rushed to pack their things, throwing them in Violet's black duffel bag.

Not fast enough. The door was giving way to whatever was on the other side. "HURRY UP MERCY!" She shrieked, just as the girl slapped a pistol in her hand and slid the bag on her shoulder. "Ready." She heard her sister's breathy whisper in the dark and Violet nodded, taking her feet from the door and hopping to her feet, pushing Mercy back against the wall behind her as the door burst open.

Light flooded the room, and Violet could now see their attacker clearly. Infected. No doubt about it. Without a moment's hesitation, she raised the gun in her hand and put a bullet in his head. "Vi!" She heard Mercy gasp behind her. "He was a person once!"

Violet rolled her eyes and slipped her gun in her belt at her hip, grabbing hold of her eleven year-old sister's wrist and dragging her roughly from the closet. "Yeah. A person who was trying to kill us Mercy. For all he cares, I put him out of his misery." She let out a shapr breath as she dragged her sister out the door and into an alley, gripping her frail wrist tightly.

"Vi! Vi stop! With the helicopter out, where are we going to go?! You're hurting my arm!" Mercy's voice begged as Violet dragged her along.

Her pace didn't slow one bit, but she dropped her sisters hand and sighed, running her fingers through long blonde-and-colored-tipped hair. "We're going to the only place we have left baby girl."



"We're going to the only place we have left baby girl." Mercy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she struggled to make her skinny legs keep pace with her fast-moving sister. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"What are you talking about Violet? Dads place? Are you insane?! Did that thing infect you or something?! We can't go back there, he'll kill us after the way we ran out on him like that!" She sped up after her sister, but as she looked about, the route they were taking wasn't leading them towards "home." It was familiar, but not headed towards their fathers house.

"Shut the hell up Mercy! Just trust me okay?! If anyone knows what to do, it's Uncle Jack."

Now that made sense, so Mercy shut her mouth and simply followed as Violet led them towards their uncle's bar, taking back alleys to avoid open streets. "Uncle Jack? What if he's.." She stopped, choked up. There was no way she could even consider that. Instead, she just followed her sister silently.

After about fifteen minutes of speed-walking, the two of them stood across the street from the bar her uncle owned. From where they stood, Mercy could make out a small piece of paper tapped to the door, and the neon light hanging over the door flashed different colors, lighting the street in green, blue, red, and yellow. The J in Jack's flickered, and Mercy shivered for some reason. This usually comforting sight seemed somehow foreign.

Without waiting for Vi, Mercedes Fairbanks crossed the street to the glass door. On the piece of paper she had spotted, was Jack's familiar handwriting. Kill me before I hurt you. Please. A shudder coursed it's way through her veins and Mercy turned to look at Violet, who was now standing over her shoulder. "No." She gasped. Not Uncle Jack. Her millionaire Uncle who'd been diagnosed with four different kinds of cancers had caught the disease. Somehow she couldn't wrap her head around it. Uncle Jack had always been their rock. Their solid ground. When things got bad at home, his bar was always open to them. Mercy had asked him once, why he didn't just take them away from their father and he'd told them that it was because he couldn't raise kids. With four different kinds of cancers, it would be impossible. But they were always free to stop by for a beer, a chat, or a place to sleep.

Sucking in her breath, Mercy pushed open the door. The place was a mess. Colored lights gave the place an eerie glow, reflecting on the shiny black marble floor beneath her feet. Her shoes stuck slightly as she stepped across broken glass. Dried booze all over the floor. The soft hum of electric lights. The place was creepy without it's usual heart-pounding music pulsing through the air.

She advanced slowly to the bar, just behind Violet. Above it, hung the neon sign Jack loved so much, flickering brightly in the dark. Age is not a number, but a state of mind. Uncle Jack's motto. "Who's there? Te raspy, drunk voice of her Uncle Jack came as he rounded the corner, stumbling slightly, eyes glazed. Violet grasped Mercy's wrist and shoved her behind her protectively, raising a gun on the only other person they trusted other than each other. Mercy noticed her sister's hand shaking violently. Uncle Jack stopped. "Sweety-pie, you're going to shoot me? Have you really become so heartless? It's me! Uncle Jack!" For a second, Mercy almost believed him, but then a smile spread across his face. Slow and wicked. A smile that surely did not belong to her uncle.

But Violet was lowering her shaking hand, wanting to believe, and out of the corner of her eye, Mercy saw Jack ready himself for the pounce. "Violet do it!" She shouted and lunged forward, forcing her hand back up and squeezing the trigger with her sister's finger. A loud boom and her beloved uncle lay dead on the floor.

Mercy looked down at his body, shaking visibly from head to toe. "Now what?" She whispered as she wrapped her arms around her frail body, voice hoarse.

"Now what?"

Violet pulled her gaze from the body on the floor and landed it on Mercy, who'd just forced her to pull the trigger on the only man they'd ever trusted. The young girl looked like she wanted to double over in grief, but she just stood there, arms wrapped around her waist, not making eye-contact in case she started crying. She was trying to be tough. For her. Violet nodded, turning to stone and giving a shrug as if what had just happened hadn't even phased her. "Now we have a drink. Lock up the place. Maybe check out the warehouse next door." She looked down at the body, then at her grief-stricken sister. Violet reached over and mussed her blonde hair, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. "Don't worry baby girl, you just saved our lives." She slapped a knife in the eleven year-old's hand. "Go on ahead and clean up in the bathroom. If something goes wrong just shout okay?"

Violet waited until she was gone before cleaning up the body, being ever-careful not to come in contact. Now that she was close, she could see that he was undoubtedly infected and shivered. She'd come so close to lowering that gun and letting them both get killed. When she was done dragging the body out to the alley, she sighed and locked the alley door, dragging a barstool over and hooking it under the knob before heading back to the bar. She went behind it's familiar U-shaped curve and placed a hand on the cool stone. She could remember a hundred nights at this bar. Jack had let her serve for a bit of money, drink when she was down, and even spend the night when her father was dangerous.

Without another thought on the matter, she reached behind her and grabbed some fruit-flavored drink of the glass shelf, it didn't matter, as long as it had alcohol. Next, she pulled a two glasses out from under the counter and filled them. She wasn't stupid enough to get drunk. Maybe in another time, when there weren't sick, homicidal manics running around, but not now that she had to protect Mercy. She did want something though, so one glass would be good.

Mercy came out of the bathroom, her face dripping from where she'd splashed herself with ice water. Violet smiled at her, a rarity she used only for the worst of times. It wasn't often that she smiled. "Here. It'll make you feel better." She slid one of the glasses to her sullen-looking sister, and took a drink of her own. Mercy was only eleven, but Violet didn't care. Piercings and tattoos were a no for sure, but, as long as she wasn't getting drunk, Vi would let her drink all she wanted. Mercy was her baby-girl, and, since no one else seemed to want so, Violet would raise her however the hell she wanted.

When the glass was empty, she looked at her sister. "So. What first? Sleep or ransacking the warehouse nextdoor?" She smiled at her again, slinging her black duffel onto the bar.

"I really don't think I could sleep after what just happened, and we could use some supplies to baracade ourselves in here." Mercy said, despite the purple bruise-like circles under her eyes. Violet just nodded in agreement.

"Alright then." She slid her sister a gun, slipped the bag back on her shoulder, and took her knife in her hand again. The gun still swung at her hip, but she really didn't want to use it again. A knife would be just fine. "Let's go." And with that, she led her sister back to the alley door. The warehouse shared the alley with the bar, and it's back door stood, facing them.

Violet crossed and jiggled the handle, but it was locked. Not too surprising. With a shrug, she flipped her knife in her hand and used the handle to slam the knob straight off the door and push it open. But it still wouldn't open. There was a shit-ton of stuff piled against the door. Violet knit her eyebrows in confusion and threw her weight into it, forcing it open. Once it was open, she waved Mercy in, and followed in after her, glancing at the stacks and stacks of boxes. "Alright. Stay close, I have a feeling we're not the only ones in here, but I'm not missing out on the opportunity to go through some of this shit." She whispered down to her sister as she started to move silently down one of the isles.



Mercedes watched her sister in amazement as the crept up the isles of the warehouse. She acted as if she hadn't just fed her little sister alcohol and hadn't just shot her trusted uncle. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she swore the older girl had no emotion other than anger. Focusing her attention back on the things around them, Mercy strolled slowly among the boxes.

She stopped at one and peered in. A bunch of TVs. Great. So if they got bored, they could watch spongebob or something. Mercy rolled her eyes with a soft snort and moved on. The next box was filled with canned food and her eyes shot wide open. "Violet!" She shrieked in delight, completely forgetting that they were supposed to be quiet. Her and her sister had left their house in a hurry and so far, she'd been living on cold Spaghetti-O's. One can a day for the two of them to share, and while Violet let her eat most of it, it still wasn't near enough. In front of her was a whole ton of food. It took everything she had not to squeal in delight.

Violet came over and slapped her hand tight over her mouth. "Shut the hell up." She hissed angrily in her ear, and then saw what she'd found and dropped her. Mercy rolled her eyes and rubbed her neck while her sister dropped to the floor, yanking her duffle open. Hurriedly, she began tossing cans in the bag, looking around as she did so as if someone would stop them. "We're not the only ones who had this idea." She explained in a quick whisper as she zipped the bag back up and slung it over her shoulder. "Keep looking, but be careful. We don't know what kind of people they are and they might kill you for your supplies. We have to be in and out of here. Fast. We'll go back to the bar, and come back in a few days. I don't like the idea of getting second choice of all this shit, but whatever. Go."

Mercy didn't have to be told twice, and she scampered off silently, grabbing everything she thought might be necessary and bringing it back to the place Vi had dropped their bag, tossing it in. When she was done with the isle she was in, she walked to the end and turned the corner. Shit! She ducked behind a box quickly. On the other side of her small row of boxes, was a group of people. Vi was right. They weren't the only ones who'd had the idea of heading to the warehouse.

Slowly, she peeked over the box. Had they heard them? Would they kill them? They weren't infected, and the six year-old with them seemed to be a pretty good indication that they weren't hostile, but one could never know. Mercy ducked down low again and cursed herself with every word she knew in her head, breathing a little too rapidly.

She should just take off running now. Let them chase her, they wouldn't get far until they Vi got them, but she couldn't move. She was frozen in place as she peeked over the box again. They seemed okay... Maybe her and Violet would be allowed to group up with them... Even if her sister hated the idea of groups, Mercy had always thought they were safer anyway... She ducked low again and placed her hands over her head as she waited for them to find her huddled there. No matter what she did, she couldn't slow her breathing, and she was sure her heart was beating so loudly, the whole world could hear it. An eleven year-old girl. Maybe they would take mercy on her because she was young.

Or maybe not.

Jane was a deep sleeper. The infected, and other things that lingered or made noise outside, didn't wake her. But she woke when Jet started to move. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Then she heard it too. Someone was trying to get in. She could hear the door moving and being banged on. "Jet... Is it the infected?" She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She looked over and noticed the stronger ones were getting up. She then saw Yina, who was sitting all alone where Sorin once was. She slowly crawled over to the girl and they huddled together. "It's okay... You're going to be alright.." She said calmly. They used the blanket and wrapped themselves together. She hugged Yina tight, for she could feel how scared she was. But she didn't know if Yina could feel how scared she was as well.

The second a racket started at the back door, Trent was on his feet. He pressed an index finger to his lips, indicating that the others should be silent, and then broke all-but-silently away from the group to go investigate, his shotgun primed and ready to go in his hands. The teenager’s expression had changed from vague annoyance (he’d been very ready to tell Sorin off for being an idiot; there were infected maniacs running around, ready to kill them, and he was worried about cussing?) to grim determination, and he disappeared into the back of the store. In this kind of situation, he wasn’t about to wait for Jet’s permission. This was what he brought to the party.

The intruders were making plenty of noise, which made him lean towards them being infected. It was that or they were just plain stupid, and in either case, Trent was more than ready to pump whoever it was full of buckshot. He took his time, focusing more on his senses and maintaining quiet than he did on moving quickly. Swallowing a lump that had irritatingly coalesced in his throat, he took a turn…

And was confronted with the sight of Mercy hunkered down. From his vantage point, he could easily tell that she’d seen the group, and little girl or not, he wasn’t taking any chances. He leveled the shotgun at her; until he got to see her face, to see if she had the telltale bumps of infection, all bets were off. Odds were it was just some scared kid with decent enough instincts to last this long. Using a little girl as bait was a little sophisticated for the murder-minded infected, at least from what little experience he had.

Great, he thought. Just what we need. Another friggin’ kid. No doubt Saint Jet will wanna adopt this one too.”

“I ain’t gonna hurt’cha, little girl,” he finally whispered, still sighting her with the Browning. “But I need you to show me your hands and your face, real nice and slow like, okay?” The tone of voice he was using would have been appropriate for a five-year old. An eleven year-old under normal circumstances probably would have found it insulting, but then again, he did have a shotgun on her. ”You here alone, or is anyone with you?”

Rowan quickly stood up when she heard something. She paused, allowing Trent to go before her, and followed from a short distence behind. He was a little more well-equpied then she was.
Usually in the line of defense it was Trent or Jet in front, then Sorin, and her close behind. She wasn't as strong as the other three, but she was very light on her feet and was good at finding others' weak spots quickly.

But when she turned the corner, she saw Trent was his gun pointed at a girl, who seemed to be anywere from 10-12. Roawn paused for a second, looking over her to make sure she wasnt infected, and relaxed a little when she appeared to be healthy. "Hi, there. Did you get a little lost? Come on over, it's safer in here." Rowan smiled at the girl, her voice sincerly warm and inviting. Usually she wasn't this generous- but she had a soft spot for kids. "Is anyone with you?" She asked soothingly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Mercy heard movement. Dammit. They're comming. Frozen in place, she waited. “I ain’t gonna hurt’cha, little girl,” She heard a whisper. Male, it was a male. She lifted her eyes slowly over her arms so she could just barely see him. He was holding a shotgun to her. Maybe they were the type who killed for supplies. "But I need you to show me your hands and your face, real nice and slow like, okay?” At this she quirked and eyebrow and sat up. Who did he think he was talking to? Mercy had lived with Violet long enough to pick up her attitude, even if she was considerably sweeter, she didn't take bullshit.

"I'm not a little girl." She snapped, raising to her feet. She moved slowly, afterall, he was the one with the shotgun, and she could snap at him, but moving too fast might startle him and cause him to shoot. "You don't have to talk to me like I'm four. I have survived the same shit you have you know?" She raised her palms, letting him see her skinny arms so he knew she wasn't infected. In one hand she still held the pistol Violet had given her, and, in the other, the knife. "I'm eleven. Not six."

”You here alone, or is anyone with you?” At that, she shrugged. A gesture that could mean either no or yes. She wouldn't give Vi away yet. Movement caught her eye and she glanced briefly over his shoulder. There she was, moving silently as a cat towards the guy in front of her. Her sister pressed her finger to her lips, giving the universal sigh for shhhh, then pointed back towards the man.

She flicked her eyes back to the guy, giving him a soft smirk. Violet would be furious if she gave her away so she only sighed. "Yes." She said, realizing that this too could mean either, yes she was alone, or yes she had someone with her. It wouldn't matter anyway. He would find out in less than a second. She just hoped Violet didn't kill him. It was one thing to kill infected, another to kill a human being with a conscience. Plus, he had a whole group with him.

It wouldn't do to have both infected and angry revenge seekers after them.

Then a girl appeared and started asking her the same questions as the boy did. To which she just stood silently, waiting for Vi to make herself known.



Violet saw Mercy turn the corner from her other end of the isle. Shit! She'd already seen the group down there, but her sister hadn't. She wasn't being the quietest thief in the world either. Stealing had always been Violet's specialty. Mercy was better for planning and thinking. Rolling her eyes, she watched the end of the isle patiently counting to ten.

After her sister did not reappear, she decided to go after her, tightening the grip on her knife. She slipped easily down the isle in silence and peeked around the corner to see that one of the group had found Mercy and was pointing a gun at her. Oh no you don't She thought angrily and moved forward only to be stopped up short when a girl stepped in. Violet waited for her to finish talking before stepping in to make her move, slinking up silently behind them. The girl didn't seem to be a threat so she went for the boy.

Before he even had a chance to reply to Mercy, Violet had slipped up behind the man with the shotgun. She pressed the metal tip of her knife against the nap of the guys neck and whispered, very deliberately in his ear. "Lower the shotgun and get away from my sister or your head rolls. I can slice faster than you can turn and shoot."

Her voice was low and feral. Nobody threatened her sister. Group or not. She glanced at the others, doing a quick headcount. Six or seven. If they came at her, she would kill this boy, then there would be six left. Subtract the six-year-old and you've got five angry people after her and Mercy. She glanced at her sister. No doubt the boy was seeing the deep purple circles under her sister's eyes and they frailness of her young body. If he thought she was an easy target, he was dead wrong. She'd have no problem killing him if his finger even so much as twitched on the trigger.

Trent couldn't help a smirk. The girl had guts, more than... well, most of his current companions, actually. As endearing as that was, it didn't make his shotgun any heavier, so it was still very much trained on her as she mostly-complied with what he had said. Seeing the weapons was actually a relief. If she was infected, she would have been using them already, which meant he didn't have to kill a tween tonight.

Or did he? Just as he was about to tell girl to put her weapons down, he felt cold metal against the skin of his neck. His smirk didn't falter, though mentally, he was kicking himself. He'd even asked the girl if she was with someone, suspected she was, and now that someone was fixing to open him up a new breathing hole. On the one hand, she was a woman. That meant she was emotional and irrational, so who knew what she might do? One the other hand... no, she hadn't kept her sister alive this long just to gamble her life on completely incapacitating Trent with one knife-stroke.

"Don't know you won't just cut me open anyway," he replied evenly. "So I think I'll keep my leverage for now. I ain't gonna bleed out before I take both of you with me, so why don't you just go ahead and back off and we'll see if we can't all get out of this alive." He already had a center mass shot all lined up, and little girls like Mercy didn't have much in the way of center mass. One shell would be it for her, and Trent did have a point: bleeding to death took at least a few seconds, and his shotgun was semi-automatic.

He turned his gaze on Mercy. "Why don't you look right in my eyes and tell your big sister if you think I'll pull the trigger?" This time, he didn't use the kiddie voice. The girl had obviously grown up a few years worth since the outbreak, and she'd shown herself to have some steel in the spine.

Even though she had her knife pressed to his skin, the boy didn't even flinch. She could practically see the smirk on his face through the back of his head. She hissed angrily. Men. "Don't know you won't just cut me open anyway," he replied evenly, to which she raised her eyebrows. Okay, he had guts. She leaned back on one hip, knife still at the ready to listen to why he thought she wouldn't kill him. "So I think I'll keep my leverage for now. I ain't gonna bleed out before I take both of you with me, so why don't you just go ahead and back off and we'll see if we can't all get out of this alive."

"Why don't you look right in my eyes and tell your big sister if you think I'll pull the trigger?" Violet glanced at the gun in his hand, his finger on the trigger. He hadn't wavered and his tone was even. With a frustrated groan, she ran her free hand through her blonde hair and looked at Mercy. Her sister was holding both of her weapons up, though not defensively and as she watched, she looked into the boys eyes and slowly, cautiously, slipped the knife into one boot and the gun in the other, then rose back up, palms up.

She was going to get herself killed! She could at least keep them out, just in case. Violet's eyes found Mercy's and she caught the tinniest nod from the girl. "Vi, chill please? If you stab him, he'll just shoot me in the short second he has and both of us will lose."

Violet rolled her eyes and nodded, shifting the weight of her bag on her shoulder as she whipped her gun out of it's resting place and spun around him so that she was shoulder to shoulder with Mercy. She slipped the knife away and raised her gun to his head in one fluid movement. Her free hand gripped Mercy's wrist and shoved her behind her. "Alright hun, but if I'm not lowering mine until he lowers his." They hadn't gotten this far on trust, and she wasn't going to let one idiot with a shotgun ruin everything, no matter what Mercy said or did.

When Violet gripped her wrist and shoved her behind her, Mercy didn't resist. Anything to be out of the way of his gun. Her heart still pounding, she slipped her arms around her sisters waist and buried her face in her back, closing her eyes. The night had been stressful and she was more than happy to allow Vi to handle the group of survivors. If she so much as twitched to run, Mercy would just snap her head up and take off so she sighed into her sister's tank top and tried to slow her racing heart. Please don't shoot us. Please, please, please. She silently willed him in her head. And don't do anything stupid Vi. She thought, giving her sister a tight squeeze.

Jane let go of Yina, unwrapping herself from the burrito they had made with the blanket. She slowly got up and saw two girls. One who had a gun to Trent's throat looked her age. The other one, looked about 9 years old. Another set of young ones... She watched as they both put down their weapons and the girls huddle. Jane walked up behind Trent. She slowly, and calmly put a hand on his arm, which still had the gun in hand. "Put it down.... Please..." She asked. She could feel his pulse beating super fast. She wouldn't let go of his arm, she didn't know if it was a lack of trust or because she enjoyed just having someone strong to hold onto.

Suddenly a few things happened at once. First, Mercy decided it was a good time to bow out, giving the reins over to her sister as she wrapped her arms around her and buried her face in her back. Vi smiled ever so slightly. Mercy was strong when she had to be, but she was always more than happy to let someone else take over. Inside, she was really a big baby. She patted her sisters hands with her free hand before things started happening.

First, a boy with a machete stood and looked over at their little stand off. He seemed to be protective of the little six year-old and Violet guessed that he was her brother. She gave him a quick glance, hoping he didn't decide to attack her. Maybe he'd be sympathetic. Afterall, they were both looking out for little sisters. Thankfully, he didn't come over and Violet turned her eyes back to the man with the shotgun.

The next thing to happen was a girl. Maybe a little younger than herself, and seeming considerably weaker, came over and placed a hand on the man's arm. Vi thought she was going to force his arm down, but she didn't. Instead she just mumbled for him to put the gun down and she sighed, running her hand through her long blond hair. She wouldn't lower hers until he lowered his. She didn't care what the others said. He was the important one. He had the gun.

Finally, the boy that seemed to be the leader of the group came over. “Alright, I think everyone should put their weapons away.” He said and Vi returned his smile with a smirk and a shifting of her weight, so that she was leaning on one hip. She still held her gun up though. “Sorry if you were hurt, we are just trying to keep ourselves safe and you never know” His tone was calm. As if he was trying to keep her from shooting. “I’m Jet” At least she had a name now. It was a start. “If you two agree to not kill us in your sleep your welcome to join our little survival group” he teased a bit. “You two girls look like you could use some rest and some food”

At that, the boy with the shotgun on her turned on his heel and took off. It made Violet's eyebrows raise in slight shock. Okay... She hadn't been expecting that. She rolled her eyes and slipped her gun into her pocket, looking at the guy who'd introduced himself as Jet. "It's okay baby-girl." She whispered, grabbing Mercy's arms and un-lacing her from around her waist, pulling the eleven year-old out from behind her. Biting her lip, she considered his offer. "We're not going to kill you." Her fingers gripped Mery's shoulder tightly. "Unless you come after us, because trust me, if someone even twitches towards their weapon around my sister, I'll kick your ass."

Violet was short and seemingly not intimidating, but she squared her petite shoulders and held herself with such attitude it was hard to see her as anything other than the girl you don't want to mess with. "I'm Violet Fairbanks. Some people call me Skip. Vi. Violet." She shrugged. "It's whatever." Vi gestured to her sister. "This is my little sister Mercedes Fairbanks."

"Mercy. Call me Mercy." Her sister cut her off and Violet only shrugged in response to that.

"Yeah. No shit we could use rest and food." Violet said in response to Jet's statement. "We've been fighting through the same mess you guys have, only..." She glanced at the hardware store. "With less supplies." Violet shifted her bag on her shoulder and locked eyes with Jet. "Whatever Mercy says goes. What do you want hun?" She asked, squeezing her sister's shoulder without ever taking her eyes from Jet's, trying to size him up and see if he was trustworthy. She wasn't normally one to trust, but if Mercy thought it was a good idea, Violet wouldn't argue.

Mercy felt Violet's fingers digging into her shoulder like a weight hanging over her head. The tight squeeze of her sister's hand said one thing. Choose. And don't be wrong. It was an important decision Vi was slapping in her face, but Mercy was used to it. Violet had never trusted herself enough to make the important decisions for the older girl acted on solely impulse and it got them in trouble more often than not.

That meant, when it came to decision making, Mercy was the one to turn to. Vi was the power, but Mercy was the brains of the two. Even if Violet would never admit it and hid it well, she had to turn to her eleven year old sister often to make smart choices. If Violet made all the choices, Mercy had no doubt the two of them would either be dead or running nonstop with a horde of eighty infected after them.

"We'll stay with them. I like them Vi." She looked up at Jet and smiled slightly. She didn't trust easily, but there was something about a group of people who were willing to look after a six year-old that seemed trustworthy. She squeezed her sisters hand to give her a bit of reassurance, knowing Violet wouldn't like it at all. She hated other people. Never trusted them. But Mercy did trust these people and Violet would not make her give up the opportunity to travel in a group. It would be a lot less lonely and there'd be more people to turn to when nightmares got her. Then, there was the bonus of protection as well as having someone around to keep you sane. She smiled at Jet, giving him her most grateful smile. "Thank you."

Jane let go of his arm as Trent ran off. She scratched her head and watched him. Was it something I said? She wondered. “Alright, I think everyone should put their weapons away.” He said as the older girl returned his smile with a smirk and a shifting of her weight, so that she was leaning on one hip. She still held her gun up though. “Sorry if you were hurt, we are just trying to keep ourselves safe and you never know” His tone was calm. As if he was trying to keep her from shooting. “I’m Jet” Jane loved it when he said his name like that. “If you two agree to not kill us in your sleep your welcome to join our little survival group” he teased a bit. “You two girls look like you could use some rest and some food” Jane watched as the girls came closer5 and how the older one looked for approval from the younger. Interesting.

Jane walked over to Jet. She was jealous, she was always jealous when there were new females. Especially when they were close to their age. She didn't like any other people stealing attention from Jet. She may just sound selfish, but it's because she cared. So... Mercy and Vi? Pretty name, well Mercy's name. Jane went close to Jet and protectively grabbed his arm. She didn't know if he could tell she was jealous or that she didn't like these new girls. Not that she had anything against them, except for talking to Jet. Same thing with Rowan. She wasn't fond of her, probably because she could always see something between them. She'd look over and always see them talking. But she was the youngest, so he probably didn't even like her that way. She was the little sister of the group, and she hated it. "Jet..." She paused, thinking about her recent thoughts."... Nevermind.." She said, letting go of his arm.

"This way." Tayte nodded then started after Violet as they began a slow jog. She listened with interest as Vi started a story of her past. Skidding to a stop a she jogged past Vi's sudden stop in speech and jogging, Tayte turned around with concern to see Vi frowning. "Wow!! I'm so sorry, I have no idea where that came from. I ramble when I haven't had a lot of sleep or am stressed. So just try to disregard anything I say k?"

Tatye rolled her eyes, "Oh please honey bunches of oats, don't be sorry! I don't need to know your history if you're not up for sharing it yet. And don't you worry about the rambling, I do it when I'm 100% rested and full. Shoot, I'm a ramblin' cowgirl." She faked pulling two guns from her hips "western" style and shooting down the alley way, blowing "smoke" off the tips of her fingers when she was done. Vi smiled and Tay watched her pick up the jog again. She had the distinct feeling that Vi had been about to say "car accident" which told her that it was a sad story, and she knew what that meant: deflect, deflect, deflect. She got it. Tayte definitely understood what it was like to have those hard memories that popped into your brain every now and then, and she understood that whey they did it was best to occupy that mind elsewhere or the pain would start again. She made another pact with herself then: Don't worry, Vi-lady, I'll be here when you need to talk, 'cause you will. Till then I won't ask questions if you don't! Shaking her head a little to pull herself out of her reverie, she turned and sprinted to catch up with Vi, who had gotten a good way down the block.

A couple minutes later, Tatye saw the hardware store. Grateful that she'd been in good shape, she slowed with Vi as they came around it's corner. "I think we should go to the Employees lounge its going to be our safest bet plus they have food there if it hasn't been taken yet but, ummm just to be safe if something goes wrong and I don't make it out with you-" Tay stopped listening. She didn't want to think that way, it wasn't right. She understood being prepared, sure, but thinking things like "if I don't make it out" tend to led to people not "making it out." At least, that's how it was in any horror film ever! Nope, nope, nope. She'd be prepared to take on the infected if need be, but she'd also make sure Vi "made it out" so she didn't want to make plans of any sort. If need be, she'd been on her own up until this point, so she could be again and would, but she refused to think that way. So, instead, she just smiled and nodded when Vi's speech patterns showed her that she'd finished talking and it was time for Tayte to respond. She was a little suprised when Vi set a key in her hand, then realized it would be to the bike.

"But, don't worry I doubt anything will happen but, just in case you know?"

"Oh, uh, yup! Definitely! Be prepared. Boy Scout motto, right? So, shall we see what's in this place?" Tayte pocketed the key and jabbed a thumb to the door they now stood in front of. She pulled her bat out from behind her where she'd stashed it while they ran (through the arm holes of her backpack and against the small of her back) as Vi pulled out her gun and opened the door cautiously. They moved in, Vi pointed to something off to the right and then made a beeline to the break room. Tayte following and turning to survey behind them. When they got inside, her stomach grumbled at the sight of doritoes in the vending machine, and then even more when she saw the Honey Buns. If there was one thing she adored about life, liberty and the pursuit of sugar it was Honey Buns. "You are my knight in shining armor, vending machine," Tayte said as she walked over and hugged it, whispering, "Thank you."

"We should do a sweep of the room just to be safe, then we can lock up for the night. That's what the chain and padlock are for." Tayte looked over, making a mock annoyed face, "Buzzkill!" Chuckling she moved about the room, making sure to double check the restroom too. They locked the door, and Tayte was grateful for the window in the door. They could hide so that no could see them, should they come into the store, but they could also see out if need be. That would come in hand. She stood and looked out at the story, eerie with all it's boxes and shelves, only the light coming in from off the street to illuminate things and cast creepy shadows.

"Ill take first watch if you don't mind? You look like you could really get some rest But, lets eat something first because I don't know about you but, I am so hungry I could eat an elephant right now." Tayte laughed along with Vi, turning and leaning her back on the door, "Are you just saying I look like shit in the nicest way possible? That's all anyone ever means when they say someone looks tired." She made a funny face, "But hey, if you're offering, what kind of girl would I be to turn down my... uh..." she paused as as he was trying to run a finger through her hair and found a twig in it, "When did that get there? Well, my 'beauty' sleep, anyway." She watched approvingly of Vi's back-scratcher trick. She saw the M&M's fall, then the chex mix, then was bored and turned to look back out the window. Clunk. Clunk. Two more items.

She was looking out the window at the creepy store when she saw movement. Get a grip, Tay. Probably just your mind. Viola's right, y'know. You do need sle-- nope, nope. That was definitely movement! She moved to the side so as not to be seen and kept her eye on the movement, opening her mouth to warn Viola, she was cut off, "Any requests?"

Tayte kept her focus on the movement she saw in the corner of the store, putting a finger up to her mouth to signify silence to Vi. How had they missed this? Crap. Now they were just sitting in a box of death. She felt like the Honey Bun in the machine, looking out a window at what was surely impending doom: The jaws of humans. Wait... there's... she squinted and blocked the light of the employees room with her hand, "A little girl! No, a group of people. Oh my god, Vi!" She whispered excitedly as the adrenaline began to pump in her for the thousandth time that day. "Guns are drawn, now they're not... should we... what do we do?" She turned and looked at Vi, "More importantly, is that a Honey Bun?!"