A veritable feast awaited us inside;a celebration for reunion and Gracie’s wellbeing. People popped in and out to eat stew made with meat on the brink of “too far gone” and actual spices. Not only had I not eaten anything that good D-Day dropped, I hadn't eaten something that good since my sister cooked for me. Dessert was a chocolate pudding pie that I straight up have no idea how they made. Werewolves and vampires (and a vampwolf) weren't the only mysteries around here. 

Nicole gives out an endless stream of introductions that was pretty mundane. There was one unusual encounter. Rawls was going through the monotonous amount of introductions when one young woman made me pause. She was staring back with equal concentration. 

"Have we met before?" she asked with her unique vocal fry tone. Her hair was grown in brown and she didn't wear red lipstick, but there was no mistaking the person that had been at the start.  

"You were my Starbucks barista at one point," I told her. 

"WHAT THE FUCK!" This was McCellen, one of the werewolves and therefore one of Nils’ relatives. We'd met by fate's chance at the beginning of the apocalypse and were reuniting over chocolate pudding. Small world. 

My life had been one upheaval after the other and the fact that nearly half the people I was getting introduced to weren't human had somehow slipped through the cracks. Soon the crowd thins out and Nicole and her family say goodnight, and then it's just me and Nils from the original group.  

“Well,” Nils says, putting his bowl of soup in front of me. “Hungry?”

“You aren’t?” I start eating it automatically. At some point you just start eating what was in front of you. 

“Sometimes meat isn’t right,” he says quietly. “I think it happens more when I’m around other vampires.” Oh, right, vampires. Werewolves and zombies weren’t the only non humans around anymore. 

“Hey, Nils, Rawls said when you’re ready to sleep he can get you situated at Inventory,” a person tells Nils in passing.  

“Okay. Let’s go, Elias.” 

About half of the storefronts have signs above the doors still, some painted over with names or dates-memorials, I think. The store used for inventory was stripped of any former identity besides the smooth wooden counter at the front. The rest of the room is blocked with a small gate, a reminder that rules had to be upheld. I could see shelves and boxes of everything from baby food to strainers behind it, impeccably organized. A small group stands in front of a  depressingly low stocked shelf for medical supplies. 

“Is this all you have?” Nils says in ways of greeting to Rawls.  

“Always the optimist,” Rawls says, and one of the two women with him chuckles. She has a blunt brown bob. The other woman is smaller and pale, her long black hair parted in the middle.

“Where’s the armory?” Nils asks.

“In the back. We thought a door might be a good idea,” the black haired woman says. Her voice is quiet and neutral, strangely so. “You must be tired.” I realize she’s talking to me. 

“I guess,” I say. 

“You won’t get a peep out of this guy. He’s as boring as you are,” Nils tells the woman. She smiles in a Mona Lisa kind of way. 

“Well, we’ve got some sleeping bags and pillows you can use," the woman says. "Mattresses are still a work in progress. Families and humans are still priority, though, so hopefully we can get one for you soon.”

“I don’t need one,” I say. 

“Alright,” she says, and crosses something off her clipboard. “I’m up for watch. Goodnight, everyone.” The others echo the farewell as she leaves.

Rawls procures a pair of sleeping bags and pillows that smell like lavender and directs us towards a half cleared store on the upper level that’s empty of any occupants before going back to work. On our way up we pass the windows of stores, some covered with makeshift curtains but others letting me glance inside. There are families here, blood related and not. Small lights shine in rooms that are lived in, not just slept in. Children’s art on the walls. A woman darning a pair of socks. A quick kiss goodnight. This place really is a home.

The mostly empty store assigned to us is a former video game store. Pounds of useless plastic made moot by a dead medium. Nils pushes a few boxes of character keychains and unceremoniously drops his sleeping bag. 

“I’m going on patrol,” he says. 

“Okay.” I put mine down and my backpack next to it. 

“Everyone here...they’re good people,” Nils says gruffly. “They watch out for each other. Except one person.” I raise an eyebrow. “You know Hero, the woman from Inventory? With the big ass forehead? She’s like, our savior doctor. I've seen her set a broken bone while guiding someone to remove a bullet out of a kid’s leg.”

“Taking combat nurse to a new level.”

“Yeah. It’s not her you need to watch out for, it's her...girlfriend? Whatever they are-you need to worry about her. I haven’t seen her around yet...she comes and goes. Big lady with wavy brown hair. Lots of jewelry.”

“Jewelry?” 

“Yeah. Stay the fuck away from her.”

“Why?” Nils is silent.

“Vampires are...hard to explain.”

“Ah.”

“Hero is a vampire too, or some kind of half-thing, and she’s okay. Probably. There’s this secret vampire group somewhere-Alex thinks it’s in Germany, but I think it’s in the Fertile Crescent. You aren’t allowed in until you’ve been around one hundred years.”

“Interesting,” I say, because what do you even say to that?

“And they don’t tell you anything before that. Alex could barely tell me what a vampire was when she turned me. The only other ones she knew were Hero and this woman. Natalie. I think you’ll get what I mean when you see her." He pauses and then enunciates clearly. “She’s doesn’t give a fuck about humanity. She does not want to help you. All she cares about is Hero.” The sharp whistle of a guard call comes from outside. “So...stay away from her. Please.”

“I will.”

“See ya tomorrow,” he says, and awkwardly reaches to my head as if going to pat it, interact with me somehow, but just flashes a peace sign instead. 

When I sleep I have nightmares. 

I wake up soaked in sweat, staring up at the black mold on the ceiling of the GameStop. A wet nose is nuzzling into my hand and I turn slightly to see the beagle sitting on top of me. Either he had slipped through a crack or someone had lightened up on the flea restrictions. However he was there, I was pleased to see him. 

“Finally, you’re up.” Nils is wearing a new hoodie and drying his hair off with a beach towel. “You need a bath.” He shakes himself like a dog and water droplets fall onto my arm, leaving a streak as they run down.

“I do.”

Collected rainwater is heated slightly over a fire and poured into a display bathtub in the back of a fancy furniture store. It smells a little plasticky and has algae, but there’s lots of soap and the fake bathroom is pretty believable, so I can pretend the world is real again for a few minutes. Afterwards I indulge in a look into the mirror and see how gaunt I am. The bags under my eyes and my long hair make me looks like a different person. A stranger. My stubble makes me look like my dad. 

Nils and the beagle are waiting outside with breakfast and another person. 

“-it’s the principal of the thing,” the woman is arguing. 

“Fine, next time I get separated from the main group and spend a month protecting a newborn and two dopey hets and come back in the dead of night I’ll be sure to wake you up,” Nils says, his voice laced with venom. 

“Thank you! See, that wasn't so hard, was it?” I can’t tell if this is actual resentment or playful banter. I’m not the only one when it comes to Alex and Nils. “Hey, new kid,” the woman says to me. “Nils has been telling me allllll about you.” 

“He has?” 

“No, that was sarcasm,” the woman says with an easy grin. She’s tall, with brown skin and a pixie cut. She wears a collared shirt and jeans but manages to give it a fashionable and professional look. I catch the glint of fangs in her smile.”Nils only talks to me when under threat of death.” 

“You must be Alex.” 

“What'd Nils gossip to you about? That he hates my guts?” I don't need to look at Nils to feel his icy glare on me. 

“No comment.”

“Hey,” Nils says warningly.

“This guys hilarious,” Alex tells Nils. “We have to get him on the show.” So this is the vampire that turned Nils into the hybrid he is today. I don't think I would've been able to tell she was a vampire if I hadn't been looking for it, but my “people senses” have never been good. 

“Don't do that investigation shit with her,” Nils says as if he can read my mind. “Or any of the vampires. They won't tell you a thing."  

“Hey, ixnay on the vampireay,” Alex says, jokingly tugging on her collar. 

“Vampire complaints is a segment on your fake talk show.” 

“Yeah, but not when She’s around.” Alex lowers her voice.

“Fuck, she's here?” Alex gives Nils a strange look and shrugs.

“Great. Now I gotta deal with this on top of everything else.” 

 I share the breakfast Nils has saved for me with the beagle and we begin our day. Alex leaves to do her duties and her and Nils exchange an awkward hand shake. Then we go back to inventory. Rawls and Savannah are there talking, Savannah actually wearing jeans and a t-shirt (but no shoes). 

“Finally, Batman and Robin,” Rawls says. “Sleep alright?” Nils doesn't answer and I shake my head. “Yeah, me neither.”

“What can you do besides guarding and combat?” Savannah asks me, cutting right to the point.

“Nothing,” I tell her. 

“That you know of,” Rawls says. “Luka wasn't really a kids person before this, and now she's our kid wrangler." 

“We’re going to have you help around today,” Savannah says. “Fill in the gaps. Guards are useful but we have other shit that needs to be done.” 

“I think he'd be best in inventory,” Nils says. 

“He can take over from me when I die,” Rawls says.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Nils says angrily. 

“Sorry. I missed your pissy face.” He noogies Nils’ head and his hat falls off, showing his ears propped up happily. 

“Focus,” Savannah says, and the boys immediately stop roughhousing. “Nils, we’re moving out in 10. Meet us by the wolf exit. We’ll be back by the afternoon,” she tells Rawls, and begins to leave. 

“Wait, where's the wolf exit?” Nils asks, his face red. Savannah blinks. 

“Shit, your nose, I forgot. Sorry, Nils. Dog brain.” She takes one of his hands in hers and wears an apologetic expression. It’s the most tender I’ve seen her. Nils seems doubly embarrassed. 

“It’s fine, just tell me.” 

“Entrance by the Teavana. They set up a one way doggy door.” She points to the other side of the mall, grasps his hand again in apology, and heads off quickly. 

“Well…” Nils turns to me, still beet red. “Good luck. See you later, I guess.” 

“Stay safe.”

“That’s what I’m always telling him!” Rawls says. 

“Please shut up. I hate both of you. God.” Nils groans into his hands and fast walks to the stairs. 

“Alright, now that the heroes have left to war…” Rawls takes out a clipboard.