Bex Rollins killed her mom.
Tommy killed his dad.
Brought together by fate, Bex and self-named 10k have partnered up to fight the apocalypse together...that is, until 10k teams up with a group headed to California.
(Undergoing edits)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It's our second attempt, this time Homer is bringing in one of us as a backup. Of course, 10K is the first to volunteer, making me upset all over again at the group.
Warren volunteers as well but Doc talks her out of it, saying she needed to get Murphy to California. She turns to my friend, instructing him to ration his bullets. He casts a side glance at me, quickly averting when he sees my anger. Another mission where he's put in harm's way.
I watch Killer struggle to put his hazmat on before sighing, walking over and bending over to help his feet in properly, him putting his weight on my back to steady himself. When I stand back up, he smiles at me gratefully. I try to return it, afraid this might be the last time I see him alive.
Each minute they're gone is agonizing and uncertain. Murphy has the same impatient energy as I, pacing behind Warren, his hand going through his brown hair in anxiety. I'd be doing the same, but I don't even want to touch my hair with how gross and greasy it is. Showers are far and few.
"So what now?" he finally asks, turning to Warren. "Plan B or is it C? Give me a D, E, F."
"Hey," Warren repeats frantically, cutting him off, making a throat-slicing motion to be quiet. "Not helpful." She looks over at me as if she's trying to spare my feelings. If she really wanted to protect me, she would've gone, not my only comrade.
Homer and 10K finally return, but the alarms haven't turned off, so I assume it's a bust.
"All right. Robbie failed," the older man speaks up, referring to their robot that was supposed to disarm the core without it melting down and them getting cancer. My apocalypse partner tries to side hug me but I step away, crossing my arms. Someone has to go to the core, and knowing how this group thinks, it'll be him.
"Take us with you this time," Doc says, taking his sunglasses off.
"We'll only have one more chance at a SCRAM. But we'll need heavier suits to reach the control room."
"Where do we find them?" 10K says from beside me, and I roll my eyes, letting out a breath of frustration.
"In the lab, not far from where we lost Robbie," Homer replies, taking a drink from his canteen. "Four can go in, two in these suits. Me and the kid in the heavies." 10K nods in confirmation.
"But what happens if Plan C doesn't work and we wind up with our very own Fukushima Chernobyl whatever?" Murphy asks. Well, we die. It would be a cruel joke if we all died from radiation and not Z's.
"You mean what happens to you?" Cassandra quips, glaring at my uncle.
"Hey, I didn't ask for the job of saving the human race."
"Amelia, would you be willing to fly him out of the radiation zone?" Warren asks.
Amelia shuffles awkwardly before replying. "To be honest, I don't have enough fuel. I lied to my dad, or else he wouldn't have let me stay behind. If I had a few gallons, I might be able to get myself and one other person out of the blast zone, if we're lucky."
