Reunited

Liam stood by the woodpile, hefting another log onto the growing stack. Splinters grazed his palms, but the rawness felt strangely grounding in what had become their new norm. Nearby, Sam meticulously inspected the community's water filters, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Paisley emerged from the infirmary, wiping her hands on her already grimy pants. "It's getting worse in there," she said to no one in particular, but her voice carried a weight that settled like an invisible fog around them.

Liam looked up, catching her eye. "How's Mr. Morris doing? The old man the scavengers brought back yesterday."

"They think he might have it. It's only a matter of time before we know for sure."

Silence gripped them momentarily, the weight of all the unknowns settling in again.

From behind the makeshift barricades, Captain Barland approached, her demeanor as unyielding as the reinforced fence that surrounded their camp. "Good work out here, lads," she called out. "We need every hand we have."

Sam set down his tools, standing to face her. "Thanks, We're doing what we can. Any word from today's supply run?"

Barland's face darkened slightly. "They ran into some trouble. Lost a couple of good folks."

Paisley's eyes glistened with tears. Barland gave her a brief, sympathetic nod. "They fought hard, they were good people."

A heavy silence followed her words, each member of the group capturing the gravity of the situation. Liam returned to his task, the repetition soothing him.

Hours passed as the sun began to dip. Liam watched as familiar figures emerged from the main building, conferring quietly. The camaraderie they'd built with others in the camp helped keep the thin veil of normalcy intact.

Liam motioned Sam over. "I think it's time we take a break."

Sam nodded, weary. They found a shaded area beneath a crumbling wall, remnants of what once may have been a school gym. Liam reached into his pack, pulling out a shared canteen. They drank in silence, the cool water a refreshing treat.

Paisley joined them, slumping down with a sigh. "Ever think about how quickly it all changed?"

"Every day," Liam replied softly.

From beyond the yard, the familiar jovial sound of children playing interrupted their conversation. Sam's eyes brightened slightly, a small curve of a smile touching his lips. "At least the kids can still find joy in this."

"They've adapted faster than most adults," Paisley noted. Her gaze wandered to the distant children's laughter, a wistful look crossing her face. "They always find a way to make the best of things, don't they?"

Before she could continue, an alarm blared from the entrance. Instantly, everyone around them stiffened, reaching for weapons. Liam's heart pounded in his chest.

"It's coming from the gate!" Sam shouted, already moving into action.

They sprinted toward the noise, reaching the main entrance where Captain Barland and her guards stood ready.

"What's happening?" Liam called out.

Barland responded, "We've got arrivals. Unknown if they're infected."

The metallic sound of the gate being unlocked echoed loudly. Eyes trained on the entrance, everyone tensed, moments stretching unbearably. Then, the heavy doors swung open to reveal dirtied but familiar figures.

Liam's heart raced as a wave of relief flooded him. "Noah!" He shouted, rushing forward.

Noah, his face marked with grime but eyes alight with recognition, stumbled through the gate into Liam's embrace. "We made it," Noah murmured, holding onto Liam with a desperate kind of strength.

Molly and Callum, Sam's 12-year-old brother, followed suit, embracing Sam and Paisley. It was an emotionally charged moment, filled with hushed words of relief and spontaneous laughter laden with tears.

"We thought we'd lost you," Paisley whispered to Molly.

"You almost did," Callum interjected, "but stubbornness runs in our families, right?"

Barland allowed a moment of reunion before stepping forward. "Are any of you infected? Any bites, scratches?"

Molly shook her head. "We're clear. But it's hell out there."

Barland signaled to the medics, who began their routine health checks. "We'll need to be certain." Her voice softened slightly, a rare kindness peeking through her stern exterior. "But welcome to the camp."

As the checks concluded without any concerns, they moved into the central part of the camp. The previous somberness of the day had lifted considerably, replaced by a cautious sense of celebration.

Sitting around a small gathering fire, their group shared stories, exchanged information, and reassured each other of their solidarity.

"How did you get here?" Liam asked Noah, curiosity mingled with apprehension.

Noah's face shadowed with the memories. "We had to... improvise a lot. Mainly hiding out but we ran into a few scuffles along the way. It got messy."

"You can say that again," Molly added, her eyes dark but determined.

Paisley leaned forward, her eyes wide with curiosity and concern. "How did you meet up with Callum?" she asked, turning her attention to Molly.

Molly exhaled as if releasing a heavy burden. "After we were split up, Noah and I set out looking for help and a safe shelter. We got to Fox Creek but when we got there it was being evacuated. D.E.R.T officials were everywhere, ordering everyone into the back of their vehicles to be taken to a new safe zone at Heathport basketball stadium. Noah and I stayed there for a few weeks, but then we snuck out to look for you three. Two days after leaving the safe zone, we ran into a group of survivors holed up in what used to be a bookstore. That's where we found Callum."

Callum, despite his young age, had a steely resolve. "I was with a few friendly strangers who found me alone, and we stuck together. Luckily, one of them was a cop. She knew about the survival camps."

Sam looked at his brother with pride. "You've grown a lot since we last saw you, bro," he said.

Callum gave a slight, almost embarrassed smile. "Had to. We all did."

Liam's mind whirled with questions. "What's it like out there now? We haven't left the camp in weeks."

"It's brutal," Noah said, his voice grim. "There are more infected than ever, and resources are scarce. Every trip is a gamble."

Molly nodded in agreement. "We had to fight off a band of scavengers just to get here. They're getting more desperate, and not everyone is as welcoming as this camp."

Paisley wrapped an arm around Callum, squeezing his shoulder. "We're glad you made it. We were starting to wonder if—"

"We thought about you every day," Molly interrupted, her voice breaking. "We just kept moving, hoping we'd reunite."

Captain Barland approached the group, her face serious but not unkind. "You've been through a lot. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we'll debrief and figure out where to go from here."

As the captain walked away, Noah leaned in, voice low. "What's her deal?"

Liam hesitated. "She's a hardass, but fair. We're in good hands for now."

Sam couldn't hold back any longer. His voice came out softer than intended, almost as if he feared the answer. "Callum, what happened to Mum and Dad?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving. The fire crackled, sending small sparks flying.

Callum looked away, his eyes fixed on the glowing embers. He took a deep breath, gathering strength to face the painful truth. "Mum…she didn't make it. When the outbreak first hit, everything happened so fast. We tried to stick together, but..."

Callum's voice broke, tears spilling freely down his cheeks. He wiped at them furiously, but they kept coming. "Mum... she protected me. An infected got too close. She pushed me away and—"

The emotion hit him like a tidal wave, making it impossible to continue. His shoulders shook with raw sobs, and for a moment, it felt like the weight of their cruel new world was too much for his small frame.

Sam pulled Callum into a tight embrace, trying to shield him from the immensity of their changed reality. "It's okay, Callum. You did what you could."

Callum clung to Sam, drawing strength from his brother's embrace. His voice trembled with the weight of the memory. "Colin... he lost control. One night he just snapped and ran off. Elsie, couldn't sit by so she went after him, determined to bring him back."

The campfire's glow flickered on their faces, casting shadows that danced like spectres, bearing witness to Callum's harrowing tale.

"Mum, Dad, and I tried to follow her," Callum continued. Tears still trailed down his cheeks, but his voice steadied as he relived the ordeal. "We didn't get far before we were attacked by infected. One grabbed me."

Everyone sat in somber silence, hanging on Callum's every word. The wind rustled, carrying the faintest whisper.

"Mum," Callum paused, his breath hitching in his throat, "she jumped in and pulled me free and the infected attacked her instead," Callum whispered, his voice barely audible. "She screamed at us to leave her and run. Dad grabbed my arm, and we ran. I didn't want to, but… I didn't have a choice."

Silence gripped the group, the weight of Callum's words settling heavily over them. The crackling of the fire seemed to be the only thing to fill the void left by the recounted nightmare.

Sam tightened his hold on his brother. "You did the right thing, Cal," he murmured softly, his own voice tinged with grief. "Mum loved you so much."

Liam's eyes flicked from Sam to Callum, then back. Despite the stoic exterior he often wore, the pain in Sam's features was unmistakable.

Molly, standing nearby, wiped her eyes. "I'm so sorry about Ava, about your mother," she said, her voice firm though her hands trembled slightly. "Your mother loves you both so much and that love lives on inside you. It lives on inside all her children."

Noah nodded, a pained look crossing his face.

Callum took a deep breath, still in Sam's embrace. "We ran as fast as we could," Callum continued, his voice steadier but laden with sorrow. "But as we cut through a narrow alley, we hit a wall of panicked people. Everyone was pushing, shoving, trying to escape the infected that were bearing down on us."

Sam's grip tightened around Callum's shoulder, bracing for the next part of the tale.

"Dad and I got separated," Callum went on, his eyes staring into the past. "He told me to hold his hand, but someone knocked into us. In the chaos, I lost my grip and couldn't find him again. I tried to shout for him, but my voice got lost in the noise."

Liam felt a lump forming in his throat. The imagery painted by Callum's words stoked a deep, empathetic pain within him. "It's not your fault," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper.

Callum nodded, though the guilt lingered in his eyes. "While I was looking for Dad, I met those strangers. They found me wandering alone and took me in. One of them, a cop named Hannah, took care of me. She, and the others, kept me safe, and taught me how to survive."

Callum took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It was a few days later when we ran into Noah and Molly," he said, his voice gaining strength as he continued.

"Hannah had taken us to an old bookstore and made it into a temporary hideout for us. We were inside when we heard voices. Noah and Molly walked in, looking just as ragged and desperate as us. For a moment, we thought infected had broken in, but when I realized it was them... it was like a miracle."

Noah smiled for the first time since Callum had started recounting his story. "Yeah, Callum here tackled me before we even had a chance to say hi," he said, ruffling the boy's filthy red hair.

Molly chuckled softly. "We were just as shocked as you can imagine. Hannah told us about the survival camp, and we decided it was our best shot for safety and finding you three."

Sam let go of his brother, looking around the group. "So, where is Hannah now?"

"They decided to keep looking for others in need of help," Callum explained, glancing at Sam. "Hannah and the rest of her group wanted to see if they could save more people, so we split up once we got close to the camp."

Paisley leaned back, exhaling slowly. "They sound like good people."

"They are," Callum affirmed, his voice filled with gratitude. "Without them, I wouldn't be here."

Barland returned, her face softened by a rare display of sympathy. "I'm glad you all made it here," she said, addressing Noah, Callum, and Molly. "You're safe now, but the work doesn't stop. We've got a lot to rebuild."

Liam nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "What's the plan, Cap?" he asked, pushing past the lump in his throat. The pain and loss were still there, but now there was another layer—one of hope.

Barland's eyes flicked over the group, taking them all in. "Tomorrow, we'll go over the camp rules and assign you your roles. For tonight, get some rest. You've all earned it."

The group dispersed, finding small pockets of solitude or companionship within the camp. Liam and Noah found a perch by a makeshift lookout post, settling down to talk privately.

"You did good out there, Noah," Liam said quietly, aware of the stars beginning to twinkle overhead.

Noah shrugged, a mix of weariness and pride on his face. "I had to. We all have to, don't we?"

"Yeah," Liam agreed, staring into the distance. "We do."

As nighttime firmly settled around them, the camp took on an almost serene atmosphere despite the underlying tension. Sam and Callum sat together away from the fire, comforting each other while mourning their loss.

"Do you miss Mum and Dad?" Callum's voice was soft, hesitant.

Sam's heart ached. "Every day," he said honestly. "But we have to keep moving forward. It's what they'd want."

"I know," Callum replied, his voice stronger now. "I just… needed to hear it."

Liam and Sam caught each other's eye, the shared loss and newfound hope bringing them closer than ever. As they prepared for bed, anticipation for the tasks ahead settled over them like a heavy blanket. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for tonight, they found solace in their reunion.

In a corner of the camp, Paisley lay staring at the dark canvas above her. Molly joined quietly, lying beside her. "How are you holding up?" Molly asked.

"Better now," Paisley whispered. "I kept hoping, you know? That we'd see you again."

"And here we are," Molly reassured, her hand finding Paisley's. "One day at a time, dear. We'll get through this."

Paisley turned her head to face Molly, her eyes glistening with a mixture of tears and uncertainty. "Do you think my moms are okay out there?"

Molly paused, considering her words carefully. "It's hard to say, Paisley. The world's changed so much, but if there's anyone tough enough to get through this, it's them."

Paisley looked up at the stars, a faint smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, they always taught me to be strong. I just hope they're staying safe, avoiding those..." Her voice trailed off, unable to say the word.

"Infected?" Molly finished softly.

"Yeah," Paisley nodded. "I can't shake the last time I saw them. They were unpacking newly purchased supplies from the van. They told me it was okay with them for me to visit Liam that night, but not to go outside once I got there. They said they would pick me up when I was ready to go home and not to worry about them. I believed they would be fine. I still do."

Molly squeezed Paisley's hand tighter. "Believing in them is the best we can do right now. They're survivors, just like you."

Paisley gave a fleeting laugh, though it was tinged with melancholy. "I kind of resent myself for leaving that night, you know? But maybe it's good that I did. I just wish I knew if they were alive, or if I'll ever see them again."

Molly's eyes softened, filled with empathy. "I believe they're safe somewhere and that we'll find them. Don't lose hope."

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, rather it was reflective, giving Paisley a moment of calm reassurance. Molly squeezed Paisley's hand once more before they both got up, ready to head to bed.

As they made their way back to their tent, Noah and Callum fell into step beside Liam and Sam. The air, though heavy with the day's ordeals, carried a whispered promise of rest.

"Not exactly a five-star," Noah quipped, looking at the rough canvas tent that served as their shelter for the night.

Liam chuckled, opening the flap and stepping aside to let the others in. "As long as it keeps the rain out, it's good enough."

Liam stood back, motioning for Noah and Callum to enter the tent first. "You're with us tonight," he said with a faint smile. "But first, we need to get sleeping bags from Barland."

Callum nodded eagerly. "Right. Where do we find her?"

"Follow me," Liam said, leading the way through the dimly lit camp. They traversed the uneven ground, with the cool night air making their breaths visible.

Captain Barland's makeshift office was a corner of the large tent that doubled as their meeting area. She looked up from a stack of maps and charts as they approached.

"Captain," Liam began, his voice respectful but firm, "we need sleeping bags for Noah and Callum."

Barland glanced up, her stern expression softening slightly. "Of course. Follow me." She led them to a storage area filled with scavenged and donated supplies. Rummaging through boxes, she pulled out two slightly worn but intact sleeping bags.

"Here you go," she said, handing them over. "Make sure to get some good sleep tonight."

"Thanks, Cap," Liam said, nodding his head and turning to the others. "Let's head back."

As they walked back to their tent, Callum clutched his sleeping bag like it was a lifeline. "Everything feels so different now," Noah mused, his voice barely above a whisper.

Liam nodded. "Yeah, but you'll adapt. Don't worry."

Back at the tent, they laid out their sleeping bags in the limited space available. The tent felt cramped, but the closeness brought an unexpected sense of security.

Callum settled into his bag, his eyes already drooping with exhaustion. "Feels like I haven't slept in days," he mumbled.

"You probably haven't," Sam said gently, zipping up his brother's sleeping bag. He turned to Liam and Noah. "Rest up. Tomorrow's going to be another long day."

Noah nodded, positioning his bag near the tent's entrance. "Night, everyone."

"Goodnight," Liam responded, lying down and staring up at the faint outline of the tent's ceiling.

The sounds of rustling sleeping bags and quiet breaths filled the tent. Liam closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come easily, but the uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawed at him.

"Liam," Sam's whisper broke through the dark, "I need to talk to you about something."

Liam turned his head, eyes meeting Sam's. "Let's pretend we need to go to the bathroom," Sam whispered again. "We'll head to the storage tent."

Liam nodded, understanding that Sam wouldn't suggest this without good reason. He slowly rose, careful not to step on the others. "Just going to the bathroom," Liam muttered in a low tone, so as not to cause concern.

"Okay," Callum murmured sleepily, eyes half-closed already.

Liam and Sam slipped out of the tent, the cool night air hitting their faces instantly. Sam pulled the tent flap back, letting it fall gently. "This way," he said, already moving with deliberate quiet.

They walked under the pale moonlight, passing several tents. Though it was late, a few camp members stood on guard duty, their eyes sharp yet weary. Liam and Sam waved briefly, continuing towards the storage tent without drawing extra attention.

As they stepped inside the storage area, Liam whispered, "What's this about, Sam?"

Sam glanced around, ensuring they were alone. His eyes darted nervously, betraying his usual composed demeanor. He took several deep breaths, trying to steady himself. Under the faint glow of a hanging lantern, Sam's face seemed to reflect a thousand unsaid words.

Liam arched an eyebrow, concern lacing his voice. "Sam, you're kind of freaking me out. What's going on?"

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, gathering courage like a diver preparing for a leap. "Liam," he began, his voice almost a whisper, "there's something I need to tell you. Or, well, ask you, really."

Liam stepped closer, his expression softening with concern. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Sam nodded, his eyes locking onto Liam's. "Yeah, I know. It's just... it's been on my mind for a while, and with everything happening, I guess I realized how short life can be."

Liam's heart started to race, a mixture of anticipation and confusion swirling within him. "Go on."

Sam took another deep breath, the weight of his words seeming to physically weigh him down. "Liam, I... I know we're best friends, but I want us to be more.

Sam swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "I don't want this outbreak, or anything else, to stop us from really living. We have to take whatever happiness we can get, while we can."

Sam's hands trembled slightly as he took a step closer to Liam. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "Will you be my boyfriend, Liam?"

For a moment, everything around them seemed to blur into the background. The rustling of the tents, the distant murmurs of the camp, it all faded as Liam's eyes locked onto Sam's. His heart felt like it might burst from the chest, the weight of the world easing for the first time in what seemed like ages.

"Yes, of course I will Sam," Liam said, his voice filled with warmth and certainty. "I'd love to be your boyfriend."

A smile broke across Sam's face, so wide and genuine that it seemed to light up the dim storage tent. Relief washed over him, and the tension in his shoulders melted away. For a moment, the horrors outside didn't exist; there was only this, only the two of them.

Sam reached out and took Liam's hand, their fingers intertwining naturally. "I was so scared you wouldn't want to, or that it would make things awkward…"

Liam laughed softly, shaking his head. "Are you kidding? I've been wanting to ask you for ages. I just didn't know if now was the right time, with everything going on."

"Maybe now's the only time," Sam murmured, squeezing Liam's hand a little tighter. "We have to take the moments we get."

Liam nodded, the gravity of Sam's words wrapping around his heart. "Yeah, you're right. We shouldn't wait."

Without another word, Sam leaned in, his lips brushing against Liam's. It was a soft, tentative kiss that carried all the emotions they had been holding back — fear, hope, love. As their lips parted, they lingered in each other's arms, the cool night air buzzing with new electricity.

"We should get back," Liam eventually whispered, though he made no move to step away.

Sam chuckled softly. "Yeah, you're right. But one more thing…" He took a steadying breath. "Let's not tell everyone else just yet, okay?"

Liam grinned, nodding in agreement. "Our little secret for now."

Sam leaned in again, capturing Liam's lips in a tender kiss that spoke of hope and newfound love. Their embrace deepened, erasing the heaviness of the world outside, if only for a moment.

Suddenly, the sound of shuffling footsteps broke the spell. A flashlight beam cut through the semi-darkness of the storage tent. "Hey! What's going on in here?" barked a gruff voice.

They sprang apart, hearts pounding as Gordon, one of the camp's night guards, approached. His stern eyes narrowed at the two boys.

Sam cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "We were just... looking for some extra blankets. It's chilly out and we were cold."

The sergeant raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Right well, you know the rules. No wandering around camp after curfew unless it's an emergency."

Liam tried to suppress the awkwardness, managing a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sir. We didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Gordon grumbled under his breath, his flashlight still trained on them. "Next time, save your blanket searches for daylight. Now, get back to your tent."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison, still embarrassed about being caught during such a private moment. They hurried out of the storage tent, Gordon's gaze prickling the backs of their necks.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Sam let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Well, that was… not part of the plan."

Liam chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, at least we've got a good story now."

They reached their tent, being mindful not to wake the others. Liam gave one last look at Sam, the warmth of their shared moment still lingering. "Goodnight, Sam," he whispered, slipping into his sleeping bag.

Sam let out a soft chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Goodnight, Liam," he replied, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.

As they settled into their bags, the tent fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of fabric and the far-off sounds of the camp. Sleep came easier that night, the warmth of their special moment providing comfort against the harsh reality outside.