A/N
This is the fight and the journey to camp from Phil's perspective, to give you an idea of what it was like on his and Dan's side of the story. You can skip this chapter if you really want, but it has some important moments and recollections in it and gives you more insight into the friends' relationship. The next chapter will be in camp.

If I can feel it, why do I need to see it – do I?
See you brought your wits about you.
-Andrew Belle, Dark Matter

Phil

Earlier

I'm about to die.

A zombie has pinned me to the ground after I'd slipped, bearing down on me as I struggle to regain my breath, the wind knocked out of me and a dull pain in my back as I strain against it on the grass. I force my axe handle forward as a horizontal barrier, which it pushes against, trying to find a way around it so it can bite any part of my flesh. I can smell its rotten breath as it lunges at me over and over again, Its skin ice cold against my hand and I see that it's missing an eye, just a hollow, bloody socket where the organ had once been. My smell must be driving it mad. It's snapping its mouth so ferociously I can hear the click of its remaining teeth, desperately trying to land a hit.

"PHIL!" I hear Dan scream, but I can't even glance over at him for fear of being bitten. He sounds terrified.

I hear the sickening thud of metal hitting flesh as Dan struggles to kill the two zombies that have him cornered right now. He can't save me, and Cat is preoccupied with even more monsters. The zombie is so heavy. It's nearly six feet tall, almost as tall as me, and though it's thin due to the rotting of its organs, it's fully dressed in a heavy flannel jacket and cargo pants, the word lumberjack might have sprung to mind if I hadn't been in such a desperate situation. My heart is racing impossibly fast as I try to push him off, hoping I can shake him long enough to land a hit.

And all around us zombies keep on coming. I could lose both my friends here and now, in the overgrown backyard of this beautiful farmhouse. Not to mention my own life, which is hanging dangerously in balance right now. My arms are shaking under the strain, I just can't hold them up anymore. With the last strength of my arm, I move to swing my axe to hit the zombie in the side of the head, but it just jerks forward, clamping its hands onto my wrists with an icy iron grip, pushing them away from my face and exposing my neck to it's hungry jaw.

There's nothing I can do. I squeeze my eyes shut as I brace for the pain, feeling the monster lean down to bite. I feel the touch of rotten teeth, shuddering in repulsion but it only lasts a second- a loud bang penetrates the air and I feel the zombie collapse on top of me, my vision dark as it's obscured by the mass of the zombie's broad chest. I'm too exhausted to push it off me, even though it's difficult to breathe because of how afraid I am and how the musty fabric covering the monster is pressed over my face.

I only lay still, my heart still pounding as one thought reels in my head.

I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive.

Shots continue to ring out all around, zombies thudding to the ground left, right, and center.

The zombie is forcefully shoved off me, freeing me from my pinned state. I crack open my eyes as I take in a deep breath, my vision slightly blurry. I feel sick but slightly adrenalized in how close I just came to death.

Vaguely, I see someone leaning over me, then a warm, strong hand grips mine, and I realize it's Dan. He yanks me roughly to my feet, and I've only just steadied myself and turned to face him when he throws his arms around me, squeezing me tightly and making my heart explode into rapid beats. I lift my hands and wrap my arms around his small form, gripping the fabric of his jumper as he buries his face into my shoulder. Thank god we're both okay. I hold him tight, feeling his comforting warmth and appreciating the closeness as I lift my eyes to watch Cat stab the only zombie left standing, my heart slowing down now but feeling weird and fluttery all the same.

Cat tucks her knife away with a satisfied smirk, catching my eye and grinning when she sees me with Dan. She sprints over, joining in our group hug just as our saviours emerge from the bushes, two men and a woman, approaching us cautiously. We all slowly break out of it, turning to greet them. As they get closer I raise my hand and smile, opening my mouth to thank them, when suddenly they simultaneously whip out their guns, one pointed at Dan, Cat and I each.

My heart stops. I leap back fearfully, wide eyes focused on the immediate threat in front of me. I stretch out my arm, seeking comfort, and find Dan's hand which I grip tightly. He squeezes back reassuringly, but I'm feeling far from assured at this moment.

I try to take a moment and observe our visitors, thinking maybe if I make eye contact they'll feel more like they're facing actual human beings and not unfeeling monsters, interacting kindly rather than taking lives. Any pretence of friendliness has disappeared now, and above all I want to make sure that nobody does anything to hurt Dan. They try to avoid my gaze but that's hard to do when your gun is pointed at the person's forehead, and I take advantage of this fact.

The man on the right is the most hostile looking one. He's much shorter than me but considerably more muscular, and has wavy red dyed hair on the top of his head, falling over sharp, dark eyes. He's the one whose gun is fixed almost point-blank on my head, and he looks ready to shoot too.

Next to him, the other man of about the same size stares coolly forward, icy blue eyes peering out from below a messy mass of straight, blonde hair. He's standing closely to the woman, who is a little taller than him and has, despite the circumstance, a very kind face, with wide, chocolate brown eyes that remind me somewhat of someone else's. Her long, coppery hair is tossed over her shoulder, a bit tangled and messy from hard living.
I can tell by the way they stand, guarding one another without realizing it and the way they exchange looks that they're probably a couple. I wonder if they really want to kill anyone at all. Unlike their companion, they don't look like the killing type, unless faced with a zombie.

We stand facing each other for a few seconds, both groups sizing the other up. We're clearly at a disadvantage; Dan's unarmed and Cat and I's weapons are nothing against the speed an killing capabilities of guns. So we stand still, trying not to move for fear of being a threat, until the black-haired man barks out threateningly from behind his weapon, making me wince despite myself.

"Tell me why you're here right now, or Marzia, Felix, and I will shoot you right where you stand."

My body floods with anxiety at this statement.

We need to think something up-and fast, but my tongue feels heavy in my mouth and words just don't seem able to formulate properly in my mind, leaving me mute and useless. I don't know why they saved our lives from the zombies, or why they're now prepared to kill us if necessary, but I'm terrified nonetheless and end up doing the only thing that comes naturally in situations such as this. I look at Dan.

He's staring hard at the man who threatened us, not at all intimidated like I am. Despite our four year difference, he's ever the brave one, still holding tight to my hand, which he can probably feel shaking. I see the man gazing quizzically at our interlocked fingers and realize he could be making any number of assumptions right now. And while it somewhat thrills me that it's possible for people to actually assume that Dan and I are a couple, I know deep down that just isn't how things are, despite any part of my heart that wishes desperately that things were otherwise. It causes me to feel a flush of embarrassment and to unceremoniously drop his hand, and at a good time too- He's opening his mouth to retort with something, which knowing Dan will probably just piss the guy off, not helping our situation at all. It provides me with the distraction I need. Already the guy has his eyes narrowed in a glare, as if daring him to say what's clearly bursting to get out.

I stop him from speaking before he even starts, placing my hand firmly onto his shoulder, stepping to block him from view of the hostile group, a silent message. Wait.

Next, I drop my axe, meeting my gaze with Cat's. I give her a purposeful look, and she sighs, releasing the hilt of her knife and letting it drop to the grass. If we're unarmed, they'll see that we mean no harm, and maybe they'll be more lenient in how they treat us. I step closer to the middle guy, not too close though, as none of them have wavered at all, still stiffly brandishing their weapons. Raising my hands in a surrendering gesture, I finally get the courage to speak up.

"My name is Phil Lester, and these are my friends Cat and Dan," I start, motioning toward my friends and rapidly thinking about how to summarize our story. I don't want to try their patience; I haven't yet figured out what kind of people they are, and am therefore not sure what approach to take. "We used to live in London," I start, choosing to address the blue eyed guy, since he isn't wearing a glare like the other guy and seems the most willing to speak of all three. "We've been on the run for almost a year now. We're staying near the woods at the top of the valley right now, and we came into this town to look for supplies."

There. That's our story. I don't mention our barn shelter at the top of the hill, not providing anymore personal details than they need or deserve, frankly. I dart my eyes between them, trying to gauge a response or reaction, but the guy doesn't respond, just gazed forward expectantly, and I start to sweat.

"That's all there is to us, at least what we're going to share with a bunch of strangers." I continue on hurriedly, "As far our story goes, that's the only part that would be of interest to you- " the other man, (Mark?) lurches forward, driving the cold barrel of his gun into my forehead, and I jerk back, sinking to my knees, a squeak of fear betraying me. "-Seriously!" I protest, my mind racing. Does he not believe me?!

"That's it? Nothing else you want to tell us?" he growls dangerously, and I nod, gulping.

What else can I possibly tell him? We're just trying to stay alive like everyone else.

Dan is breathing heavily, and I try to silently will him to stay out of it. He's afraid for me, but he can't do anything about it- trying anything holds the immediate risk of having me shot through the head. I start to second-guess myself, cursing internally for letting us get so vulnerable, dropping our weapons like that.

"Mark," The other man orders quietly, speaking slowly and firmly, "back off. We're not gonna blow anyone's head off, I'm sure they have more to say."

I don't, though I'm frantically trying to come up with something else, anything else that could help us. Mark frowns, dissatisfied, but he does lower his gun, lifting a massive weight off my chest as my heart calms down minutely.

I take advantage of this merciful distance, safely stepping several lengths back and shooting purposeful looks at Cat and Dan, both of whom look extremely tense at the danger I was just in. Dan's look is murderous, his hands clenched tightly together. I try to reassure him that I'm all right, but his glare is unforgiving, and I'm powerless against it.

"Fine." Mark responds irritably, "fine. But what then-" He directs this question at Dan,  and I silently pray that he keeps his cool a little while longer "-are you doing so close to our camp? Not watching us to see what supplies you can kill us for and take for yourself, are you? Where did all those zombies come from, huh? Thought maybe you could loose those on us, or-?"

I start at the way he emphasizes the word supplies, so sick and sarcastic in tone, realizing that he thinks I lied about why we're here. He thinks we've been scoping out his camp, which must be in the area, planning the best way to kill them and take their resources for our own. In a world like this, it's kill or be killed, and I'm sure that such a situation must have happened somewhere in the world. It just isn't the truth in this case.

Dan drops all pretense of being controlled and respectful, surging forward as a horrified look spreads over my features.

"No," he growls, moving an almost insultingly close distance to Mark, who looks ready to blow his head off. "Phil wasn't lying," he spits angrily, each syllable burning with a note of threat. "That's literally all there is to us. We had no idea there was other people around here, we don't know anything about your camp, and don't you dare," he hisses, and my heart begins to race, "threaten Phil like that ever again. I don't care if you shoot me, you'll do well to stay away from him. Leave him alone."

Mark's face contorts with rage, and I begin babbling, now terrified Dan's crossed a line.
"He doesn't mean that! We're just innocent travellers- I mean, we're all living under the same circumstances, we were just hungry and this place looked like a good place to search for stuff, we just want to get out safely a-and-" I trail off, withering under Mark's white-hot look. The other man, on the other hand, has softened his gaze. He sets a firm hand on Mark's shoulder, and though he still has his gun raised, the girl has lowered hers, and he doesn't look like he intends to use it anyway.

He motions to the area around us, indicating all the zombie corpses left as a physical reminder of our fight and all the bullet holes they contributed, responsible for the fall of many of them.

"So where did all the zombies come from, then? We've lived around here for months now and have never seen them swarm like that. What did you do to attract that many to one place? You've lived this long, so you're clearly not stupid. What did you do?"

Dan played the piano, that's what. I think, smiling weakly. I don't dare to say it aloud though, they might think we're making fun of them. So what do I tell them, then? My mind reels uselessly, coming up with nothing, and I think we're definitely dead, when
to my surprise, Cat laughs, speaking up for the first time.

"That might have been Dan, actually, though don't blame him too harshly, we encouraged him. It's kind of a long story..."

"We have time." The girl says softly, saying something after being totally silent thus far.

"Yes, do tell." Mark prods, sounding no friendlier than before.

But Dan interrupts before Cat even replies, cutting in sharply.

"Actually, we don't have a lot of daylight left. We still have to walk back to the shelter so, no, we don't have time. I say the we two groups part our ways now, and pretend that none of this ever happened. Nobody gets hurt, and you never have to look at us again."

I can't help but agree with this. If we pretend nothing happened, we can go home safe and sound, and we'll stay away from that town, never bothering these people again, seeing how they obviously own this area and don't take kindly to intruders. I nod vigorously, already longing for our stiff bed on the concrete floor of the barn, safe under the stars with Dan.

I crack an uneasy grin, trying to look as winsome as possible. But Mark just whips his gun back to train on our faces, and we all jerk back in shock.

"And have you three watching our camp while we sleep? Sorry man, but I don't trust any of you. You're coming with us."

Coming with them?! Surely he doesn't mean that. They can't just take us prisoner, we're supposed to head home tonight back to our shelter after a harmless day trip. What if they mean to hurt us? They wouldn't do that, would they?

We're all desperately protesting this statement but he doesn't waver, and once again the other guy gives us a kind look that his probably-girlfriend copies, looking right into my eyes and attempting to smile reassuringly.

"I wouldn't fight against it," the guy says gently, glancing sideways at Mark, "I know he's being an asshole right now but Mark's actually a pretty cool guy once you get to know him. We just don't feel safe letting you guys off so we're gonna have to take you with us, for all we know you could be plotting to kill us in our sleep."

Like hell Mark's a good guy. At least this situation doesn't sound permanent. They just want to be completely, one-hundred percent sure we're safe, and then we'll maybe be free to go back to our own miserable lives. Hopefully.

"I wasn't before but now I'm not all for ruling it out," Dan retorts sarcastically, and I feel my heart constrict in fear. He really shouldn't joke, not like this. I wait for the firestorm of retribution to this but none comes, the blond guy just sighs and the girl tucks her gun away, which calms me slightly.

I shuffle sideways and lean slightly against Dan, my objective now to keep him close. I won't let them separate us-he's all I have and whatever they put us through, they'll have to put us through it together. Besides, it's comforting feeling his warm mass nearby, a reminder that he's alive.

"I'll carry the weapons." The blond guy says, "Just follow our lead and don't think about running off. There's food back at the camp we can give you and we can introduce you to our friend PJ. Who knows,' he adds, actually smiling genuinely, " maybe you guys can even stick around for a bit. Better to be friends than enemies, yeah?"

I don't want to be friends with these people. I just want to get back to the barn on the hill, the closest thing to home we have at the moment. I want them to let us go. It's frustrating, being subject to the actions of others. I don't care that the girl is nice, and the guy is nice-ish. Mark is definitely not, and who even knows what this PJ character is gonna be like. Dan always harasses me for being too warm towards others, saying it hurts more than it helps;

"You're too- whats the word? Angelic, Phil. You have to stand up for yourself once in a while. People take advantage of good people, you don't need that."

I remember him saying that, before any of this had happened. Even now he worries for me because he thinks I'm too open. I'd remind him that he isn't open enough, a lot of people think he's mean or cold because his seeming lack of empathy and feeling. But I know the truth. He has the most sensitive soul, he's just been hurt, beaten down so many times that his first line of defense is to build up a wall, shutting it all out before any harmful situation can faze him. I don't know what made him decide to let me in, or entirely why he chooses to shut others out, all that matters is that he did. Being nice to others led me to being close to him in the first place, and despite having a gun literally shoved into my forehead earlier, some stupid part of me is still reverting to this default.

So even though my mind is protesting in a string of nos, I don't voice them aloud. I stay silent, staring blankly as the guy shifts uncomfortably from our lack of response and scrambles forward, gathering up our weapons as his friends stand straight, keeping a close eye on our movements, or lack, thereof.

As the he reaches for my axe, he comes the closest to any of us that he has thus far, the one of us being Dan. He's bent forward, not looking in his direction but still blatantly trusting that we won't make a move on him. Dan presses further against my side, making it very clear that he doesn't want any form of closeness or contact with our captors. I think the man notices, his eyes flickering upwards and then away, realizing he's caused Dan to be uncomfortable.

But instead of commenting on it, he just backs away respectfully, which I appreciate.

An awkward silence follows as we're surrounded by the trio and then slowly directed unceremoniously into the cold, shaded depths of the woods.

The air smells cleaner in here, partly because we're getting more and more distanced from the zombie corpses, and partly because the forest is filled with tall pines. In better circumstances, it'd be a nice place to walk in. There was a park not far from my old flat in London, only about a five minutes' walk, that reminds me of this now. I wasn't exactly the go-outside type but sometimes it was a nice place to visit after picking up a coffee before class, just to wander around in and be alone in your thoughts. I've always had a very loud mind, something I sometimes have difficulty containing when so many thoughts are running wild.

Like right now. I'm keeping in step with the group, but there is a definite vibe of unease as we plod along, following Mark who is moving along at quite a brisk pace, several steps ahead of the rest of us. If we're going to be stuck with these guys until the three of us think of an excuse or an escape plan, the best thing in my mind for handling this situation is breaking the ice a little bit. They're not bad people, they're just uncertain, like we are.

I want them to think of us as friends. Actually, friends might be too strong of a word for this possibility and maybe not entirely achievable, so maybe the word allies might fit a little better. Whatever the case, I know Dan and Cat are probably not going to speak up, so really the only way things will progress at all here is if I put in the effort and do something about it. So without really thinking about it, my talkative mind takes over and I blurt the first question the comes into my head with little regard for what might result as a consequence of it:

"This would all be a little easier if you didn't make us feel like we're being taken prisoner. What're your names, again, anyway? I already gave you ours."

The blond guy starts at the statement, visually jerking at the sound of my voice. He was obviously not expecting to be addressed, and as I probably should have expected, Mark hasn't reacted at all.

But the other guy has, and once he's processed my words he smiles at me, sliding his hands into his jean pockets and observing me thoughtfully, eyes full of interest. Dan looks at me like I've gone mad, averting his eyes the minute the man opens his mouth to reply. I know he thinks I'm crazy, but I don't think I could stand this walk if it was uncomfortable and quiet. I want to learn more about these people- who they are and how they got out here. Why they're all alone, just their little group. It fascinates me.

"My name's Felix." the guy says, and I nod. This is good, having a name to put to the face. I usually forget names pretty quickly but in this case, I don't think these ones are going anywhere. He proceeds to point to Mark and the girl and I listen with interest, surprised at how easy Felix is to talk to. "Mr. Nice guy over there, that's Mark, and that-" he looks at the girl affectionately, and she smiles back, and I think I know what he's going to say. "-is Marzia, my girlfriend." he concludes.

She glances over at me somewhat shyly, offering a careful smile which I reciprocate, meeting the dark brown eyes with more confidence now. So they are a couple, I should have known by the way he looked at her. It's hard to mistaken love when someone wears it so casually on their features. It's like trying to ignore the sun, it's so obvious.

I widen my eyes in interest, trying not to waver upon hearing Dan sigh unhappily next to me. He's not enjoying this at all, is probably cursing me for even trying with these guys that he doesn't trust an inch. But I'm in too deep now and besides, this bit of information is interesting. This is something I really do want to hear.

"Oh, you two are together then!" I exclaim, unable to hide my enthusiasm. "That's really nice, how did you meet?"

Felix's eyes soften instantly, and I realize I've touched on something he loves to talk about. I bet the story of how he met his girlfriend is one of the happiest in his life, and I feel a touch of sadness and longing as I realize there's a lot I would do to experience the same. His face lights up as he thinks back on the memory, and he looks at her when he speaks, she's the subject of the tale.

"Marzia and I met over the internet, actually. She used to live in Italy and I lived in Sweden, so it was a long time before we ever got to meet each other in real life. We used to make little videos for each other or talk for hours on Skype, until I saved up enough money working at a hot dog stand to go see her."

Over the internet. My heart skips a beat, a sharp but pleasant jolt as I think about how them and I have this in common. I found my best friend online too, and I smile despite myself because I know this as a fact and I'm bursting to say it. I know the feeling of wanting to see someone so badly it causes a physical pain in your chest, when Skype calls over long distance just isn't enough anymore. I know it so well.

My sudden happy expression seems to please them and they continue, speaking with more energy and vigor now.

"It's so cheesy," Marzia laughs, looking right at me now with no trace of awkwardness. "But I remember the first time I ever saw him, it was like my heart completely dropped into my stomach. It's the most amazing thing, seeing someone you've only ever known through a screen, completely real in front of you."

Outwardly, I can only nod, the only sound I'm able to muster being a noncommittal "Mm," in agreement, while internally, I've exploded.

My mind is flashing back to another day, in late October nearly two years before.

I'm sprinting in a crowded train station in Manchester, darting around cranky old ladies and disapproving businessmen, struggling to make it to the glass door through which I see a single train pulling in next to the platform, arriving all the way from Reading Station.

Normally, I'd be self-conscious about pushing so rudely by people like I am, but this train is carrying someone I have never seen before in real life, someone I've only seen through a pixellated webcam and have wanted to see more than anything else in the world. I push through a crowd of conversing ladies, seeing the doors open and people of all shapes and sizes beginning to disembark, looking for that one face, the one who's come all this way. I recall the hammering of my heart, seeing several that are similar and feeling it jump every time I expect it to be the one. But I know very quickly when it isn't, and so it goes back to nervously thudding, an anxious pace that almost makes me laugh out loud, just to ease the tension.

And I know right away that it's him when I see him.

Just as Marzia described her own experience, my heart drops straight into my stomach and I feel unreal, seeing him look around nervously at first, scanning unfamiliar heads uncertainly until it lands on my untidy black-haired one, and his eyes widen.

He's taller in real life, and skinnier than I thought, his skin is perfect and his hair is immaculate, straight and shiny, every brown strand styled with care. He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I laugh when his face lights up in the widest smile I've ever seen him wear, and though he walks slowly and dignified off the platform I know he can't contain his excitement as we close the distance, shouting out in greeting before I sprint over and throw my arms around his smaller form, feeling him giggle as I hug him. He's everything I ever thought he'd be and more.

It's still by far what I consider to be one of the best days of my life.
That was the first time I ever saw him in real life, the day I properly fell in love with him, I think. Even if I I didn't know it then.

I'm shaken out of my thoughts as Dan, of all people, suddenly speaks up, unable to stop himself from adding to this even though his mind is fighting every inch of his efforts.

My heart is fluttering in a funny way and I hope to God nobody notices, I don't know how I'd explain it.

"Funny... that you say that, actually." he muses quietly, and Marzia peers at him with interest, wanting to hear the most unwilling member of our party speak with something relatable to say.

"Phil and I- we met over the internet too."

Felix looks at me with a whole new interest. Though this is apparently all Dan has to say my face nonetheless blooms into a furious blush as he recalls the memory I look back on so fondly, feeling weirdly gratified by being tied to his happy recollection.

The look Felix is giving me is far to contemplative for my liking and Dan has gone back to looking at his shoes as he walks, so I'm left with my cheeks feeling hot and my mind reeling, trying to think of how to redirect this conversation. I'm so flustered though, every useful thought I have fluttering away, and I begin to question if talking really was the best choice after all. So I look down at my own shoes, nearly stumbling over a tree root embedded in the dirt but catching myself a second before disaster, following Mark as he pushes through brush and long grass, obviously knowing exactly where he's going while I'm feeling completely lost. I smell wood smoke now, indicating the camp in question is probably getting near.

"So, Cat" I hear Felix venture suddenly, and I almost jump, relaxing a little when I realize he's not thinking about me anymore and has moved on to questioning my friend. "I'd hate to sound rude or anything but your- eyes are kind of... unusual. And you look different? I don't know, are you like.. are you a..?"

He sounds so awkward I don't know whether to laugh or feel bad for the guy, but I know Cat is capable and she can handle herself. She laughs and begins to slowly explain to him that she's kind of a zombie, and to tell him the story of when she was bitten. I've heard it so many times that I just sort of tune out, comfortable to let them talk and leave me out of it.

I drift back into my thought train with better filtering this time, keeping thoughts of stations and trains and unhealthy heartbeat speeds safely to the side. Whatever I feel for Dan, I can't let it take over my mind and turn me into a blushing idiot every time he talks about me, and so I resolve to be much more careful, and settle instead into contemplating the group we've had the fortune, or misfortune, of meeting. Felix and Marzia, despite putting up a rough front at first are surprisingly likeable people, very clear about their love for each other and very kind towards us, even encouraging Dan, who had threatened Mark when he threatened me and had openly expressed how little involvement he wanted with any of them. And conversing with Cat, when they were in no way obligated to. It makes me wonder how they could have ever teamed up with Mark, who seems so angry and unfriendly. They just don't match up. But then again, do we?

I wonder what they think of us. I'm sure eventually I'll know.

Mark cuts into my thoughts by stopping at a makeshift wooden gate, nailed clumsily together between a line of trees but surprisingly well-built, definitely strong enough to keep out a decent number of zombies. He glares at my sheepish face with no trace of his friends' warmth, though he must have overheard our conversations, it was impossible not to.

"We're here." He states drily, looking unimpressed with my feeble attempt at a friendly expression, "Try not to touch anything and make yourself at home, might as well. You're about to meet the fourth member of our group, so try not to make a bad impression."

Dan scoffs, and I see Mark's eyebrows go up challengingly, threatening him without saying a word. l place my hand firmly on his shoulder, squeezing it so he knows I'm serious. He can't let Mark wind him up and he can't fight him, I don't want him hurt. I assume he'll understand this but it only seems to aggravate him more, he just shakes my hand off irritably and whips around to face the other way, avoiding my gaze.

My heart sinks at the rejection, I really didn't want to upset him. It satisfies Mark though, as he rearranges his expression into a smirk, turning on his heel and unlocking the gate, crossing the threshold into the camp.

Felix surprises me by sidestepping and punching Dan lightly in the arm, a friendly, reassuring gesture that assures no harm done. Dan of course responds by leaping away as though he can't escape fast enough from this unwanted touch, an extreme violation in his mind, but that's just Dan. I wouldn't have expected anything else. And luckily, Felix doesn't look offended at all, just mildly bemused.

"Like you're one to talk about bad first impressions, Mark." He shoots at his friend, and I feel calmed somehow, warming towards Felix a bit more. "These guys are all right, I like them. And PJ likes everybody, he's gonna like them too. So get over it and be nice to them already, I know you know how."

Mark rolls his eyes and pushes past Felix with an irritable huff, jerking his hand as an indication to follow him in. We comply, following them into what I immediately deem a considerably nice camp. It's in a large, asymmetrical clearing completely built up on three of four sides with a combination of trees growing out of the ground and miscellaneous junk lashed between them, creating a lumpy, impenetrable wall, the fourth being a tall, naturally occurring stone cliff with an adjoining rock-shelf, where a long roof made of sticks has been woven and sleeping-bag beds placed beneath it. It's a homemade shelter from the elements.

There's a ladder leading up to a small balcony-like structure a little off to the side, using the top of the cliff as a viewing platform of sorts.

"The watchtower" Marzia whispers to me, following my gaze. "We put someone on watch every night to make sure nothing dangerous happens without us knowing."

I nod, appreciating the explanation.

Near the base of the rock, I notice a man sitting comfortably on a log next to a blazing stone firepit, roasting something that is definitely meat. My mouth begins to water as I look uncertainly at the stranger, who has light brown hobbit hair curly enough to rival Dan's and a bright, friendly face, with nice blue-green eyes piercing the brown-green palette of the outdoors. He waves eagerly to his companions as we enter, hardly looking bothered by the three extra bodies stumbling in awkwardly.

"Hey Peej! Come see what the zombies brought us today! They're nice and friendly, Mark's already saying we'll all make great buddies!"

Felix's jaunty shout makes me smile and makes Dan snort dubiously, seeing how being buddies with Mark is far from happening anytime soon. I'm not sure what to make of this situation and I default to shuffling nearer to Dan, also reaching out to grip Cat's cold wrist, wanting to keep them both close. PJ shouts an equally cheerful reply and jumps up to meet us, and I smile uneasily, a feat Dan doesn't even attempt.

As Mark stalks away and Felix and Marzia gesture us eagerly forward I only wonder one thing:

What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?