Gregory Graham: I never had kids of my own...

You were my sunshine

My only sunshine

 You made me happy

 When skies were grey

 You'll never know dear

 How much I miss you

 Please don't take my sunshine away

To Carol, my sunshine

Thomas: I'm not that kind of girl

“Ladies and gentlemen of HQ, here’s to the apocalypse.”

            Thomas chuckled to himself as he played Beyonce’s Single Ladies over the loudspeaker. Who knew that the end of humanity would mean the incredible rise in popularity of his favorite artists? Well. Thomas was the only person with access both to a PA system and a butt load of pop music, so it did make some amount of sense.

“Ah, if he liked it he should have put a ring on it. Truuuuuuuuth, Yonce, truuuuth.          …Please still be alive.”

            So many of his friends and family were gone. Some Thomas himself gave mercy to. What had this world come to? Week three of the living dead and humanity was just now slowly getting back on its feet. Going back to its roots, relearning old fashioned ways of living. The last heater died four days ago.

Sigh

“The Amish must be loving this.”

            Thomas hummed along to himself as he checked his baby. The old radio set that he had put together himself was something only Frankenstein would love. Made from bits and pieces from around the complex, this was the adopted baby that Thomas had never had. With this static-y creation he could talk to the pockets of existence strewn about the rotting world. 

            One of those pockets called in.

“Rainbow, Rainbow, this is Away Team 2. Come in please. Over.”

“I’m here, I’m here. And that’s Captain Rainbow to you AT2. Over.”

“…Captain Rainbow, we’ve got our sights on some raiders in the area. Please advise. Over.”

            Thomas let the information sink in for a moment. His hands nervously twitched towards the radio dial. Vale’s orders dictated that he radio her when emergencies arose. And this, this may be an emergency in an already unstable world.

“Stay in contact, AT2. Will advise in 2 shakes. Over.”

            He switched over to Emily’s personal dial.

“Ms. Vale. We’ve got a problem. Over.”

The Shadow of the Vale: Entry 1

Growing up, my sisters wanted childish things from you for Christmas. Like Barbie’s Dream House and Easy Bake Ovens. I, being ever more practical, wanted more sophisticated toys. Toys with substance, like Risk and Army Men, just like the ones the boys across the street received every year.

I knew from a very early age that you were disappointed with my wish list. I wrote you letter after letter. I appealed with reason, tried to argue logically and even played on your empathy.

Never got so much as a reindeer dropping in reply.

I’ve loved this city ever since I escaped my family. It speaks to me. It wants to be organized, controlled. I’ve put many years of blood, sweat and tears into it.

And now…

…I’ve received the best early Christmas present ever.

This city crumbles around me and I hear its cry for a leader.

A hero.

A messiah.

It’s time to reclaim my city.

Thank you Santa.

I’ve been a very good girl this year.

All my love,

Emily Vale

Officer Jeffrey Kaminski

They always talked up the first day in the Academy like it was the start of a new world.  Little did they know just how right they would be.

I'll remember it for the rest of my life: my first day in the uniform, a badge on my chest and a firearm at my side.  My childhood fantasy now a reality.  That day was supposed to be all about protecting and serving, about swelling with pride and dignity, about making my little town - messed up as it is - a better place.

But the world had other ideas.

The calls started to come in at about noon.  Mass disturbances all over the area.  People attacking each other like animals.  Men, women, and children lumbering around with blood gushing down their chins, eyes glazed over, limbs slack at their side.  I thought it was a prank at first - a welcome to the force freak-out.  But it was too big, too elaborate, and ultimately, too much.

We did the best we could with what we had, which was never much to begin with.  But the masses, even as slow and stupid as they were, could not be pushed back.  The calls came in at noon - the town fell by nightfall.

I've been on the run ever since, checking in with groups as I pass by, never staying long.  It's a lonely life, but it's the life I'm used to.  I never thought I would be thankful to have a mom who died and a dad who went to jail and left me all but an orphan, forced to fend for myself.  Strange how even the shitty things can prove to be a blessing.  Maybe it was all meant to be.  Maybe dear old Mom and Dad knew something I didn't.

Maybe we were all fucked to begin with.