I look out, past Purge in another bed, still fast asleep. The boy waves at me. He appears to be carrying something... wait a minute... is that Steve Mugort?

I dash around outside to greet him, still in my PJ's. "STEVE! What are you doing here? And is this your baby sister?"

"That's right" Steve says proudly. "She's already a year old! Say hi to Warper, Michelle!" The baby, Michelle, responds with a giggle. Steve puts the girl on the ground, and she begins toddling about, a bit unsteady but confidently. Steve is holding onto the rein. "I just wanted to thank you again. You... you gave my life meaning. I also heard that you've been saving others from my 'village'. How's that going?"

I chuckle. "Seems like the people who refused to believe in magic are in such a state of panic and crisis that the very people who were ostracized, as well as some of the children who are old enough too, are the ones keeping the place from collapsing! I remember you said they'd never change... but now, everything is changing!"

"That's great to hear" Steve responds.

"How are things on your end, Steve?"

"Amazing! All the other parents are so jealous of my adoptive parents! After all, what parent DOESN'T want a free live-in babysitter? Government tried to force me to go to school, and CPS were on my parents case for letting a child look after a child. But I proved myself responsible enough to CPS, and we managed to convince the government that I'm being home-schooled. Well, that isn't a lie - when I have time, I take some time to educate myself! I also record everything I've done in a diary. It started out as a 'babysitter diary', but it ended up including my full daily routine. I don't get much time for myself, but I don't care! I love looking after my little sister! I couldn't be happier, really!"

I can't help but beam. "Always happy to help. And it was very nice to meet little Michelle" I say, bending down and stroking her hair. With a wave, Steve is off, once again carrying the small bundle of joy.

Just as I watch the pair run off, a man arrives with a gift basket. "Thank you so much for sending me Neal! Do you know what happened? Two days after you sent him, my daughter was coming back home from school, and a pair of kidnappers tried to ambush her! I'm not wealthy, but I have a decent sum, and these men must have known that. If it wasn't for Neal, I... I don't know... she could have been hurt, or worse! Neal has also decided to teach her how to defend herself. He's such a blessing! I already consider him part of the family!"

"Well... that's sort of the idea..." I reply, blushing.

"Neal took a battering protecting my sweet girl, but he acted as if he weren't even touched! Great person he is. My daughter has also told me how she feels so much safer... she admitted to me that she didn't want to say anything before, but it turns out she had been scared ever since her mum was attacked! Neal is amazing, if just being there makes her feel safer!" The man passes me the basket. "Thank you." With tears in his eyes, he makes his way back.

"Well, what a way to start the day, huh, sir?" I turn around to see Purge standing there, holding a laugh. I go beet red.

"PURGE!" I yell. All that does is send her into hysterics. I just smile and shake my head. "Do you want to go back into the basement?"

"I'm sorry, Warper, but you embarrass so easily! I guess you're not used to being seen as a hero, even though it's been a while." Purge is grinning.

"Darn it, I hate you!" I joke, as we go back inside to get ourselves properly ready for the day.

"I know you actually love me" Purge says with a wink.

"I called you 'dear' by accident the other day, you know!"

"Accident or not... why?"

I look away and at the floor. No... I can't admit it... we're doing a job, dang it! No workplace romances or drama! But... I let out a long sigh.

"Fine. You win. You make it hard to not hate you... but somehow, you've managed to rope me in this trap called 'love'."

Purge nudges my arm. "The truth always comes out, Warper. You could only hide it for so long!"

"Yeah, yeah, let's just start the day" I grumble. I really hope I don't regret admitting my weakness to her...

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

This story is a part of my series, It's Not Just Business. Please check it out!

Solitude. What a strange thing, isn’t it?

You’d think that by now I’d gotten used to it. After all, day after day after day my sole company is my walls, my food, my tools and those angry shambling piles of greyish flesh trying to turn me into dinner. Solitude becomes your rhythm, your day-to-day, and in this situation, seeing that lonely normalcy disturbed is anything but good news.

I’m no stranger to hearing thumping on walls and windows, those... things, they look unstoppable sometimes, especially when they see you with their rotted eyes. But this wasn’t a fist, or a head impacting a window. It was different. It was rhythmic. tap tap tap, twice or thrice. Was it... one of them? Have they gone smart all of a sudden? Or worse, is it raiders, who’d vaulted over the stakewall and gotten inside? I don’t think raiders are typically polite but you never know.

Creeping around, shotgun on hand, I reach for the door. Nothing. I call out for the tapping stranger. Nothing. I sneak over to the window, and there it is: a person, on the floor, breathing heavily. Has a white coat so I assume medical staff, but the important thing is that she looks alive. But... is she bait? Is someone taking aim at me? What to do what do I do what to do...

In my mumbling, I hear a faint “hey...”. I can’t. Not now. But... this is the only remnant of humankind I’ve seen in weeks.

I grab her by the ankles and drag her inside. If she’s not long for this world she’s not taking me with her. Once inside, it appears I have not been shot at, not yet at least, but what can I do for her? I’m no doctor, she is! So I do the only logical thing: take her coat off and strap her legs to a spare bed. I’m not getting bit, screw that. She doesn't seem to have bite marks on her, but still. She can complain about it if she’s alive.

It feels weird, after all these days, making soup for two. But this’ll go down easy and she looked starved. I bring her a bowl to the sound of angry complaints.

“What the fuck are... you doing?”

“Well, I was gonna see your condition, but seeing that you are still alive and conscious, I’ll untie you and we can have some soup. Also, sorry for... that.”

“Did you... soup?”

“Look, I’m no cook but you look positively starved. Ain’t getting better than this.”

“...Thanks.”

Turns out she’s not a doctor but a nurse instead, she just happened to have a coat nearby and instinctively kept it on. Says she worked at a small clinic, Corman Medical, when everything went to hell. She’s been on the move since then, never finding a safe spot to rest. She was hoping this wasn’t some violent camp of raiders, or worse. I’m immediately moved to tell her to stay, but... is this who she really is? What if this is all a ruse? I have a few guns laying around, where do I hide them!?

But she plans on moving, apparently. Appreciates the help, and if I won’t mind will stay until recovering, but she knows this is all strange for us both.

“You could... stay.”

What on earth am I saying. Why did I say that.

“Are you sure? You seem well off by yourself.”

“You can’t be much worse company than those shambling outside. And an extra pair of eyes and hands could help.”

“Well... sure. Why not. I’m tired of running.”

And she dozed off.

Solitude. It makes us say and do the weirdest things. What a strange thing, isn’t it?

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