A/N: Alright, thanks everyone for the reviews, and I apologize again if the story's moving a little fast, but I wanted to get these parts down before I forget them.

Lucy leaned against the kitchen counter as she flicked through the channels on T.V. A cup of coffee next to her as well as a half-eaten bagel she had yet to finish. Brett had left earlier that morning for work, luckily for her, she didn't work Saturday. It just meant that she would be basically working on several essays she still had left to do. She had promised to do a History report for him, even though he turned the offer down. It was the least she could do.

She barely looked up as the door opened, and closed. Still watching the channels that flickered by. She watched as Nona came in and sat down on the couch, watching her channel scavenge.

"Morning," Lucy greeted,

"Mornin'," Nona spoke back, shifting some in her seat. She had just came back from the office. From meeting her father after so many years. They had made plans to spend all tomorrow together, since he had to get back to his job sight and she still had homework to finish. It seemed like tomorrow would be far off. She so badly wanted to talk to someone about it. But, Sally was off somewhere else, and Charlie was off at work. Not that Lucy wasn't a good listener, sometimes she just didn't say the best things. "Hey, I met this guy today."

"Really? Interesting," Lucy replied blankly, as she continued to search for a show to watch.

"Yeah, he was like one of those guys you would see in a bar with a beer, but he's not drinking it," Nona continued, crossing her arms. It took awhile before she managed to bring herself up to confess. "He was my father." she watched as the channel flipped one more time before stopping all together. Silence. She knew Lucy had to be shocked, because the T.V. landed on Lifetime.

"What?" Lucy asked,

She nodded. "He was my father."

"But, I thought he was...," Lucy started as she walked around the counter and over to where Nona was sitting. "Dead."

"I did too, but apparently...he's not," Nona spoke. "I mean, he was there."

"How do you know it was him?" Lucy asked,

"His eyes...," she answered. "Just the softness they held and how they showed an entire life's experience even though he was still young. It was him Lucy, I know it. We both do..." tears stung her eyes as she spoke.

Lucy couldn't believe it. All her life she's known Nona, and she knew her father died. Even though the cemetery held no gravestone; which during the summers Nona would go look for when she was young, occasionally she would join as well. But they never found anything. Now, here he was. Just out of the blue like that. "But..., then, if he just appeared so out of the sudden..., why? Why now?"

Nona shook her head. "I don't know; I'm meeting him tomorrow though. If you don't believe me, you can come see him."

"It's not that I don't believe you..," Lucy started, before sitting down next to her. "This just seems like something I have to see to believe."

---

Charlie looked up as a small bell rang over the intercom system. He pulled off his earphones and patted the soundproof wall beside him before stepping back. "Alright people, looks like it's break time." he watched as all the newbie shooters, who ranged from eighteen to thirty, put down their earphones and guns. "So, how about we come back within an hour and start our next lesson. We'll be working on reloading and gun treatment. Can't get anywhere with a dirty gun." he smiled and patted them on the back as they left. Several of them had made tremendous progress. Others..., were lucky they hadn't shot themselves in the foot.

He sighed, before walking over and collecting the earphones and guns. They were beginner's guns, ones with not so much fire back when you pulled the trigger. And none of them were hair triggers either.

Getting the room cleaned up for the next class, he sighed and wiped his brow. It was cool inside, but for some reason he found it oddly warm. It was probably just his thick clothing collecting heat. He stretched before taking up on one of the shooting ranges. A small paper figure was placed a few yards away. He placed on a pair of his own earphones before raising one of the more advanced guns. A handgun with several parts attached for sharper and more powerful hits. He aimed for one of the paper figures and fired. It hit the figure in the shoulder.

Just a warm-up shot, that's all. He fired three more times. Getting two in the head and the other in the heart. He fired several more; blowing several more through the head and through the neck.

Just as he prepared to fire once more, there was a flash of black it seemed. Almost as though someone had ran across the paper figure. He stopped and looked around. He was the only one in the room. Shrugging off the feeling, he fired till the clip ran dry. Dropping out the empty clip, he reached for a fresh one from his belt. Clipping it in place, he raised it to fire once more.

His finger froze at the trigger. The paper figure was moving towards him at a exceptional speed. The ends of it fluttering from the made-winds. As it shot closer and closer towards him; the arms came alive and reached over. The paper reducing away to skin, as the head melted into a face. White-pupil-less eyes staring at him from a decaying face. The teeth lunged at him, as the hands nearly clasped him. He pushed himself away from it; falling back.

The figure disappeared. Morphing back into the paper.

He had failed to notice his heart practically in his throat and his chest was hurting from the hard throbbing. A cold sweat poured down his forehead, but he made no move to wipe it away.

The door suddenly busted in, and another worker, Tom, hurried in. "Hey man, are you okay?"

He couldn't find his voice and only nodded.

"Dude, man, I'm sorry about that," Tom walked over to where the paper figure was being suspended just a few inches in front of the small table. "These machines have been acting up for awhile now, been meaning to get someone to look at it. But, they come charging towards the shooter with no warning and it ends up scaring the fool out of people." he reached forward and pulled the paper figure down. "Hey, you got some good aim though." he turned, only to realize he had been talking to an empty space.

---

In the bathroom, he finish vomiting whatever he had eaten that day. Through with that, he splashed cold water over his face, before washing the taste of bile from his mouth. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't the machine doing that. Like something in his mind, or some unknown force caused that to happen. But why? That thing..., that creature..., that zombie.

He closed his eyes and flashed back to the city. The day of the Outbreak. He was working outside in the yard when it all happened. He had looked up to see a kid that was once in his old math class stumbling up the street. He thought the kid was skipping at first, then noticed all the blood on his shirt. His second thought was some kind of shooting at the school. When he walked over to see what was wrong, that kid..., his eyes. His face. All decaying and he had lunged out towards him. He backed up, hearing the sound of his teeth striking together. From there, he knew something was wrong.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and left the bathroom. He wanted to talk to Bryant, or, Brett, or anyone for that matter.

A/N: And yes, there is a reason Charlie is seeing all these images. I'm not just being mean to him.