He travels the fastest who travels alone.
- By : Rudyard Kipling

A low rumbling engine hums occasionally with a soft quiver under me. The truck swayed along the journey, unable to sway away with our pain. In the four corner boxes, women and kids sat quietly in their thoughts, sniffle and hissing were heard every now and then. 
Far outside of this four-corner box, another low rumbling engine hum, and guns shot were heard at times. From what I was able to catch, we weren't the only truck moving, however, I can't put my word on how many exactly were there. 
The air thickened, as we slowly lacked oxygen in this closed four-wall. Even that, not even a whisper filled the room. Not even a cry after being traumatized again and again.
If I have a word to describe the Laketown residence I would say, brave really does describe them perfectly. This wasn't the first time, and their first wasn't too far as much ten years or so but only two years or maybe three years ago. The kids still remember the first time it's happening, and the same goes with every survivor.
Just a few hours ago, we happily spent time at the edges of the lake. Argued and was silly until Dylan suddenly changed his mood in the morning but still, he refused to let his mood affect others. He still allows those strong men to swim across the lake, to another open field with animals coexisting together. 
Just a few days ago, I was put on a sit and was lectured on safety, Sarah's words, I quoted: 
"Stay with Dylan no matter how annoying he can be, no matter what happens. If anything goes unexpected and dangerous, at the very least Dylan could protect you."
Was what she said, after I tried to explain how I was fine being left for a moment, her nose flared, and her eyes widened as she scooted closer from her seat, unable to sit quietly and calmly.
"Listen here, you, young man, if anything happens and you come back with a scratch, I swear I would never let you out anymore. I don't care if you have to repeat the 'boring' gardening every day or tend to 'hard' farming. If you dare to get hurt I'll make sure you regret it."
The only regret I was having was leaving you alone and unable to fend for yourself. I could barely imagine how much pain you were in, being hurt like that. But again I do ask you what if Dylan is the one who gets hurt, just like now? You would lean on the coach as if you don't care while also pride emitting from your shoulders.
"He is an old man. Old men like him know how to survive, he just refuses to let us live comfortably without him. Not that I could do though. No matter what he will find a way to keep you safe"
He did, and now he is completely forever leaving me behind. I pulled the necklace, a necklace, Sarah put her life for. Why Sarah, why?. It's just a necklace, it isn't worth your life.
Wiping the tears, I stared at it. It's almost like military chains. There's a name, and a pendant, emerald in the middle of the ice crystal. There were names, I barely knew. 
Sherry Amelia Sloan.
Sherry Kristine Sloan. 
Katherine Hester.
Als Reznor @ Yevgeny.
Alcina Krauser.
Karl Winter @ Yevgeny.
At the back was a glass photo, behind the emerald stone, a young lady with wavy brunette hair swept by the breeze, her smile dazzling as she looked over, that small photo, I genuinely could feel the gentle breeze, the tranquility, the happiness in her smile, even her eyes close from her high cheeks. 
I insert the chain into his pocket. Wondering where would my duffel and bag go by now. Hoping for the best, I hope I will have them by the time they arrive. Dylan must put something I see important and I want to know what. 
I sighed, already tired of pouring all the tears, my head was heavy, my eyes lid the worst of all, all my sight blurred, the last thing in my mind was Sarah's laugh and Dylan's mocking his name, again, feeling a little stirred in my chest, burning slowly from the chest, before it engulfs me, I let the sleep take over his consciousness.
_________________
The clatter and the voices gradually increased, snapping his consciousness.
All the noises came into his head once he fully regained his senses, knocking harshly, making his head throb from all the chaos. A sore throat slowly came to him, as his body felt crooked all over. 
He peels his eyes, to see the truck's back door already wide open. Leaving the space empty except for him and the girl next to him, patiently waiting. The oxygen surged to his lungs, and he felt grateful to feel at least a bit less suffocated.
However, the memories washed his relief, and his chest throbbed in response. It's pulling him from inside to the deep underground. All his limbs feel weak. The lump in his throat is just as big as his chest's. He held his need to scream out loud, lashing everywhere, making the lump go bigger and bigger. He wanted to choke every person who making noises, he wanted to open those chests and pull out their heart because he was hurting, he wanted to stop all of them. He doesn't know why, but he wants to do any sort of crossing thought if it means lessening all the pain.
The girl scoots in front of him and pulls his hands slowly, clasping them down softly. Her warm hands wrapped them nicely. She slowly parted his upper hand, humming a low voice, just enough for them to hear. Surely, the choking in his chest and the madness in his head were put to a halt. 
"Walter..." 
The whisper of Sarah's voice was there, but not as clear as this voice. Is that his mind tricking him or she did come and call him?
He wanted to hear they called him once again. Sarah's affectionate voice, Dylan's teasing, and mocking, once in a while he would smile lovingly at him while they had their midday coffee.
The warmth only makes him crave their warmth as they hug him like he would leave them behind in a second.
He wants them to come back.
' Please, just once, don't leave me. Please...'
His heart begs but it swells even more as he remembers Sarah's cold body laid in her own half-dried dark crimson blood. His heart aches even more as he remembers Dylan forced him out. His last smile before he was pulled away.
Without realizing it, he choked as he sobbed uncontrollably. Once again, the girl pulled him closer, patted his back, stroking his back softly as he let out everything, again. Silently, she let him wet her shoulders. 
His head suddenly flashed something in his head, a distant faint jasmine smell, the warmer hug, a more loving hush voice in a second. The girl in a white flowery dress is just as vibrant as his memories can be. Stopped his sobbing, his chest filled with different emotions, he was broken, but the flashed memory comforted him enough, only a hiccup was left. 
He pulled himself away from the girl. He clamped his mouth as he let the hiccup out in his palm. 
' This is embarrassing. ' 
Then, something flashed again in his head. A white beard man exactly stopped on his chin, the beard looking healthy and neat as if the person took care of it the most, his head almost covered with silver hair but some still black and healthy. For some reason, he feels warm but also sad at the flashed memory, a warm smile but a sadness in his eyes. As if he bears all the pain just for him.
And a rough but loving tone of voice invaded.
' Tears are for when you are at your strongest but to remind you, you are at your limit. Then, cry. '
It was clear in his memory. Both memories were vibrant and clear in his head as if those were his memories, not some made-up trick. It came and stayed in his head, longer.
He looked up, his hiccup was gone.
The girl once again patiently waited.
She signed.
' Feels better?.'
Somehow he understands. His heart reminds him that sign language is necessary. As if it was muscle memories, his hands move, signing as well. All the memories of sign language movement came again, and he even knew his next movement as if he was just normally conversing.
' yeah, thank you. I am sorry for bothering you. Silly me'
She shook her head.
"Come, sir, ma'am. We prepare some food if you'd come follow us it would be great."
A man suddenly greeted in front of the door, for a moment the man's eyes widened as he looked behind over his shoulder, the man had a gun slung on his back as he tried to compose himself and gave a friendly smile. The man held out his hand to help them get off the truck. 
He had the freckles and a tight, sculpted jawline, his high pointy nose, with thick brows, and his sun-kissed tan skin made a wonder, even to a man like Walter he is.
He let the girl get off the truck safely first. Before he helped himself to the ground. The bustling makes his head focus on the current, he looks around to see the high fence that he saw with Dylan on the first day the man saved him from living in the tree, stuck, not knowing where would he head. Seeing them closer, the woods used for the fence were indeed bigger and thicker even a bullet would not pierce through. There were four posts on every corner and a line of guards guarding there, near the entrance were stairs heading up there. The posts were the same height as the roof of unfamiliar four columns each with no wall. Both on his right and left. 
As he walked farther from the bread truck, which now he noticed, he saw a tall abandoned windmill building, there was a stair heading to the windmill, outside the four wooden walls. At the bottom of it, there was a board, and numerous pieces of paper attached, and a few people gathered, for the board or just simply discussing in front of it.
"Please, follow me, Mr. Reznor."
The man reminded him as he went on his accord unintentionally. He turned to the man who called the name he saw on the previous chain which he understood was his. 
"Huh?."
He absentmindedly let out. He was confused by his surroundings, and a little bit dizzy but he can manage that. But, all of this was too overwhelming for someone who lost precious people. He needs some time to work his head again. To clear his head again.
The man halted as if questioning everything he knew before he called for someone to guide the girl. He walked towards Walter in a quick big step. 
"Are you in disguise, sir?."
He whispered.
Walter shook his head. Looks at him like the man was the first biggest two-head person he had ever seen in his life. The man came closer again, their shoulders almost touched from the closeness.
"Are you sure, sir?. It's fine, I am one of your soldiers. And I also heard what has happened to the main base. But, thanks to you, almost everyone safely gathers at the second base."
He looked serious however, Walter gave him a look again as if he had just suddenly grown another head in front of him. He just wished this man, whoever he was with whatever meaning he tried to talk about disappeared and met him and had some space. Because he was indeed uncomfortable he took a few steps back from the buff man, even though they were the same height but the sive was surely incomparable.
" I am sorry, maybe you got the wrong person."
The man tilted his head. Taking another step closer. Their hair was almost touched, and Walter grimaced at the proximity. The man scrunch his forehead as if weird out by the situation.
" The falcons are the wings..."
The man waited for Walter to continue his sentence. Walter pushed the man's chest, which was all muscles and hard by the way. 
"I am sorry for the misunderstanding. Again, you must talk to the wrong person. I am not whoever the Reznor is and I never heard that name before."
The man widened his eyes. But the honesty and hostility in Walter's eyes were clear, making him doubt everything again.
"Then what's your name?. How come you can say his name clearly when I say it once, only."
He was serious. His ears were red and his eyes turned sharp. His voice was stern like a strict soldier.
"I saw it on my chains, maybe I found it somewhere? I don't know, I don't remember, don't bother me!. Even if you try to force it out of me, I can't! I don't remember any shit!. Do you understand!"
A few people turned their heads due to the sudden outburst, probably startled by the noise. The man paused, but he composed himself later. 
"Can I see them?."
He softly requested. Grumbling, Walter fumbled in his pants pocket. Once his hand touched the metal chain, he grabbed it and let it out of his pocket. He handed it to the man's held-out palm. The man took another glance at him, his eyebrows wrinkled on his clear forehead. 
"Have you perhaps lost your memories?."
Walter tried to calm his throbbing head. The bustling makes it worse.
"I don't know but that's what everyone believes."
The man gave him back the chain. With serious looks, he warned.
"Be careful. Just be careful of everything, don't trust anyone. Take good care of this chain, it's a symbol that every name on that chain, survives their deadliest mission everyone refuses to volunteer even the experienced ones, yet they not only managed to get out safely, but they found the main reasons and found a cure for it. They are respected people."
Walter just nodded his head anyway. Why would he take care of someone's chain? He handed the chain to the man.
"Then you take good care of it."
But, the man was startled and took a big step back. If he knew, he would have the man this option from the start so he would stay at least an arm's length from him.
"N-no way!. How can someone like me deserve something like that? Take care of it, sir."
He cleared his throat before he pointed Walter in a direction.
"Follow me, sir."
Without any more words. Walter exhaustedly thrust the chain into his pocket again and followed him from behind. 
"My name is Michael, sir. Michael Quinn. I know that sounds girlish. I got that a lot."
He was cheerfully informed.
Walter just shut his mouth, afraid he would have another sudden outburst, even though he didn't expect himself to be able to do so. 
They walked to the place nearest to the entrance. There was a platform, and a small short fence, making an entrance. There were a few aisles on his right and a few more on his left. There were two tables on each side. And a hospital type of curtain connected to the half roof, separate from all of this. He saw another higher platform behind the curtain. 
A smell of something sterile. Indeed there's one big blue hospital fridge on his left. A few people were wearing hospital white coats, instructed Laketown villagers who just arrived, to the table, one by one. 
"This may be just small but this is our infirmary. Not so temporary though."
The man informed again, only to be replied with another nod.