"This is nine shades of dumb," said Fred. If my jog was slightly awkward, it had nothing on his stumbling gait. He ran like a one legged duck.

"How do you even walk straight?" Knees weren't supposed to bend that way. His wisecrack comeback was lost as his foot caught in a pothole. He did a painful looking skid along the pavement, groaning face down until Ginger took pity on him and hauled him up by his belt loops. His front looked the worse for wear. He'd taken three spectacular dives since our departure.

"Sheesh, Li's right. How have you survived this long?" Ginger giggled, roughly dusting off the clinging pieces of gravel. "You gonna make it to the first rest stop there, sugar, or do I need to give you a piggy back ride?"

"I'm fine," he sniffed, catching up to the transport. I followed at a slower pace, Ginger matching my pace when she caught my eye. She might give me the heebie jeebies but, like Princess, she generally caught things I missed. Fred had moments of epic klutziness but this was something else.

"I don't get it," I said, glancing at the red head side long, "have you been keeping him up all night or something?"

Ginger puffed her cheeks. "Well stamina, is not something he lacks--"

"Oh, no, TMI," I said. "Please don't give me any more details that require mental scrubbing."

She smirked a moment before her face settled into the smooth mask she used when delivering a particularly awful piece of news. Her voice dropped an octave, meant for my ears only above the rumble of the transport. "It's for her benefit," said Ginger, nodding to Petra. "They've been watching us since they got to the fort, Li, and we've been watching them." Her eyes flashed as she looked at me. "Our performance is being evaluated."

A sour feeling settled in my mouth. Of course. The soldiers made themselves a walking buffet to test what? Our loyalty? Our combat skills? What a pointless waste of time.

"Okay but why the hapless buffoon act?" It wasn't like Petra hadn't had a taste of what were capable of.

Ginger worried her lip. "He's very good at keeping their attention isn't he?"

From her. She didn't have to say it. I could see glances sliding our way despite Fred's numerous attempts to pull their attention to his bumbling performance. In a way, I found it kinda sweet he put himself through something like this for Ginger. It was also unsettling. Princess wasn't kidding. Their expressions were almost...expectant. Were they waiting for her to break dance or something?

"Let's fall back a little more," I said. Ginger didn't argue. We gave the rumbling vehicle a bit more lead, keeping it in sight.

Ginger jerked to a stop, looking into the woods.

"Did you hear that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Hear what: beastie, zombie, or other? Not like we're jogging through an apocalyptic wasteland or anything."

She made a face at me, peeking back at the surrounding trees. "It kind of moved like an other," she said.

"Do you smell anything?"

Her look turned into a full out scowl. "Do I look like a damn bloodhound, woman?"

The bushes rustled with a note of foreboding. I stopped, staring at them, waiting for whatever to burst through. The seconds ticked by, revealing a big fat nothing.

"Did we scare it off?" Ginger craned her neck, peering through the trees.

"Maybe you did," I said.

"What are you two doing?" Petra snapped, causing both of us to jump. She stood at the bend in the road, the transport already out of sight. "If you put my people in further danger to locate your lost asses, I will put a bullet through each of you. Keep up!"

Once she stomped off I heard Ginger grudging whistle of appreciation. "That is one hard woman."

Hard indeed, though her comment made me realize Petra didn't want to be in this situation any more than we did. So, who they hell ordered her to do this?

***

"You need a new routine," I said, eyeing Fred's unfortunate case of road rash.

He shrugged, watching the soldiers crawling in and out of the transport. Every couple hours they switched the group resting to running. How nice for them. The rest of us were left to run. The only two who hadn't taken prolonged breaks were Petra and Kit, though the latter was clearly flagging from the endless march.

"I kept them occupied with Beastie Boys for a while," said Fred, his gaze focused on the small mountain of supplies taking up the bulk of the transport's interior space. "What do you think they're carting in there?"

"Well, they were expecting to lead us back in restraints," I said, watching Kit catch his breath against the side of the truck.

Petra cast her brother a worried look. Interesting, apparently the ice queen had a soul after all.

"Why don't you take a breather and keep me company up here, pretty boy?"

Petra's face dropped into a scowl at Princess's drawling voice. Kit looked up with a good-natured grin.

"And miss out on this view?" He winked up at her, surprising a laugh out of her. I could practically hear Petra's teeth grind. If that was her reaction to harmless banter, I wondered how she felt about the compromising position she found the two of us in.

"I know that expression." Fred nudged me, his brows drawn in concern. "What are you over thinking now?"

"Petra really doesn't like us," I said.

"That's a big duh," Fred muttered.

"Does she not like us because we were zombies, or does it run deeper than that?"

"I'm too tired for philosophy, Li," said Fred, poking at the tears in his shirt.

"I think that hate runs pretty deep," JD rumbled behind me. He was the only one of us, aside from Princess, who didn't show any signs of weariness, despite keeping pace with the transport all damn day. JD might stick out among the other Revived but he blended in nicely with the soldiers. They paid him no heed throughout the day.

"Hear anything interesting?"

"Olivia was right," said JD, nodding to Princess. "They've been observing and recording us throughout the day." I suddenly realized why she had insisted sitting on top of the vehicle.

"They seem to have a lot of trust issues," I said, half to myself. Petra halted the line. Hadn't they just switched off? The sun was just beginning to set, which meant we still had a few hours of daylight. A troubling though occurred to me. "What is she doing? Are we camping for the night?"

"From what I've heard yes."

That was a spectacularly bad idea. I expected them to make use of one of the way-station cabins, which would be cramped but had the benefit of four walls. Camping outside with a group like this had to be akin to leaving a pile of raw meat in the middle of coyote country.

"Are they suicidal?"

"Not as bad as you think," said Kit, limping up to us. "This far out in the country, most of the undead are too wasted away to be a problem."

"More raw hide than gooey, eh?" Fred frowned at the surrounding woods. "Not worried about bears are they?"

"Most wild animals leave large groups of people alone," said Kit. "You guys barely look winded. Color me impressed." He smiled. My stomach flipped.

"A few zombies might still sneak in during the night," I said, struggling not to stare at the drop of sweat sliding down the side of his neck. I was freaking hopeless.

"Hence stopping for the night," said Kit, gesturing to the transport where the soldiers who just crawled in handed down several cylindrical containers to the others.

They stripped off the thick canvas packaging, revealing large coils of barbed wire which a few soldiers started unraveling in a wide perimeter around the vehicle. Those inside the vehicle continued to toss out supplies, including several sleeping bags.

"Where are we sleeping?" Fred said, voice thick with suspicion.

"Miss your cot already don't you?" Kit's grin widened.

Fred's expression crumpled. "Do we at least get tents?"

Kit shook his head. "Need to be able to break camp in a moments notice. The wire can be left behind, and sleeping bags are a quick toss in the truck."

"A couple lines of barbed wire doesn't seem like much of a deterrent," I said, an uneasy eye on the sky. "What if other things show up in the night?"

The idea of aliens stumbling on our vulnerable sleeping camp was a disturbing one. Granted it would difficult to spot us from above. The trees hung over the road enough to provide us with a decent cover, but there were others things to worry about. What Kit said was true, the more secluded the area the lower the zombie threat. They didn't fare well as loners, decaying much faster than mobs of them. It was another little mystery of the undead condition.

"It's one night Li. Even at a crawl like this, we've made good time. Petra thinks we'll make Sub Station Apollo by tomorrow evening."

The soldier herself was busy helping roll out wire, talking to her people, checking on them. It was obvious she cared about them. I looked over my own group. Ginger had crept up to us while I was distracted, surreptitiously snuggling against Fred's back. Curley and the others were clustered loosely nearby, their skin varying shades of gray from gathered dust on the road. I glanced down at myself with a groan. I wore a fine coat of dirt and mud nearly up to my waist.

Princess propped herself on my shoulder, tisking as she looked me over. "A dip in a pond wouldn't hurt about now," she said, causing Kit's eye to twitch. Of course, she didn't have a speck of dirt on her.

JD shook his head at us, attempting to make himself useful. After a couple uneasy glances, the soldiers allowed him help unwrap the wire. Point for Human/ Revived relations. Picking up on JD's cue I tapped Kit's shoulder.

"Anything we can do? Gather firewood? Scout the perimeter?"

"Speak for yourself," muttered Princess.

"Actually, let me see if the boss lady wants to risk a fire tonight," said Kit, jogging over to his sister. Princess gently nudged my hip.

"Better close your jaw before she catches you ogling her baby bro," Princess teased.

I glared at her. "Hear anything interesting up on your perch?"

Princess raised an eyebrow at the deflection. "As a matter of fact-"

"Firewood's a go, Li," Kit called, waving at us.

Princess looped her arm through mine. "Let's go get some sticks!"

I knew I was in trouble when she started twirling her cotton candy hair.