Live Another Day

protested.
“No, you haven't. You've let circumstances choose for you.” Logan pinned her to the spot with a sharp look. “You're taking the easy way out, and that isn't like you.”
“Not true. I know what I want!”
“Do you? Because I'm still waiting for the real Nadia to show up and tell me to bugger off because she can make up her own damn mind. That Nadia never needed permission from anybody.”
With those parting words, Logan strode away and left Nadia stuttering and white-faced. Much as he wanted her to, no, needed her to go with him, it was her own decision to make, and not one he was willing to make for her. I just hope she chooses well.

Chapter 3 - Michael
Michael shifted the rusted AK47 from his left arm to his right in a bid to soothe the ache in his back. It didn't help much. Sixteen hours of continuous guard duty on an empty stomach had eaten away at his energy reserves. Every muscle burned with exhaustion, yet he had no choice but to stand there like a puppet, eyes roving for any signs of enemy movement. Whether it be living or dead, it didn't matter. Ke Tau's orders.
It was maybe an hour before dawn, and he licked his dry lips with a parched tongue. He stood alone at the furthest end of the perimeter, also known as the dead zone by the other guards. Here, he was surrounded by staked and chained zombies, a lone figure of living breathing flesh among a sea of corpses. Their constant groaning and rasping wore on his nerves, but at least it kept him awake.
A shuffling figure caught his eye, and he twisted his head to look back at the old hotel. It was the old woman, Rebecca. The one who'd first made contact with Ronnie. She carried a bucket and balanced a parcel on her ancient head. With torturous steps, she went a slow circuit around all the guards before heading toward him.
His stomach growled at the thought of breakfast, but his thirst was far worse and fought for dominance among his needs. With impatience, he watched the old woman wind her way through the captured dead to bring him his meal. At last, she reached him and ducked her head as she placed her burdens on the ground.
Michael glanced over the woman's head at the other guards surrounding the compound. None had ventured near, just as none had accompanied the old lady while she walked. Perhaps, this was his opportunity to speak to her, an opportunity he had so far lacked.
“I've brought you food, Sir,” she said in a quavery voice.
“Why not sooner?” he asked. “I saw you last night, doling out supper to the rest. Why not for me?”
She shot him a knowing glance before dropping her gaze once more. “Because Ke Tau did not wish it.“
“How so? Have I angered him in some way?”
“I do not know, forgive me, Sir.”
“I think you know more than you let on, old one.”
Her eyes rolled upward, exposing more of the whites, and she cowered before him. “Please, Sir. I know nothing.”
“Relax, old woman. I will not harm you.” He pointed at her burdens. “Water. Do you have water?”
She shook her head. “No, Sir. Ke Tau said no water for you.”
“Then what do you have?”
“Mageu and bread.” She opened the bucket before her and scooped up a cup of the fermented liquid. This she proffered along with a hunk of dry bread from the bundle on her head.
Michael wrinkled his nose as he took the food from her, his insides twisting. The mere thought of forcing down a chunk of tasteless dough when he was this thirsty, was distasteful. Nor did the sour mageu smell appetizing. His body needed water. Water and protein. “Is it fresh?”
“Yes, Sir. I made the bread myself today, and the mageu is from yesterday.”
He nodded and raised the cup to his lips. In one gulp, he drained the liquid, the consistency much like thick porridge. His stomach rebelled, but he forced it down. While it might not be water, it would relieve his thirst and provide some energy. “Another, please.”
“I'm not allowed, but...” With furtive movements, she scooped up another cup which he downed as quickly as the first.
“Thank you,” he said.
She threw him a surprised look, apparently unused to gratitude.
“Tell me why Ke Tau is treating me this way,” he insisted. “You must know.”
She hesitated before replying. “It is simply his way. You are new here, and he does not trust you.”
“I've been here for a month, and I do whatever he bids me.”
“It is not enough. He wants to know who you are. He will try to break you first.”
Michael digested this knowledge in silence, before saying, “Thank you again, old one.”
She ducked her head and gathered up her stuff. He glanced toward the guards and noted that none were paying attention. “Before you go, we need to speak. I was sent here by someone you know.”
She gasped and scuttled back. “What do you mean?”
“You spoke to a man a while ago. A man who asked for your help.”
She shook her head. “I...I don't remember.”
“Don't be afraid. I'm here to help you.”
She shook her head so hard he was afraid it would fall off her neck. “No, I know nothing, spoke to no one.”
“This man promised you revenge for your son. Don't you want that anymore?” he asked, pleased to note the way she stilled.
Her face turned blank, and an unnamed emotion swelled beneath the surface. “Revenge?”
“Yes, but first we need your help.”
“How can I help? I'm just an old woman,” she said, casting a fearful look around.
“You can talk to the others, those who feel like you do,” he replied with his eyes fixed on the nearest guards. “Tell them to be ready. Tell them that when the day comes, they must join us in our fight.”
“I...I will try.”
One of the guards turned toward Michael and stared at them, his eyes