As the circle formed, Justin plopped down in a wooden chair, resting his back against the wooden support when he looked down to find Cam resting her body against his legs. He cleared his throat slightly, a chill creeping up his spine. 

Be cool, man. Be cool. 

His attention was thankfully diverted from the strange sensation by the survivors interacting with Jes. They had no means of communication with anyone, really, which meant that would have to make do with the people in their group. But then how would Omega keep going? They couldn’t risk throwing more bodies into a fight that was more easily lost than won. 

It was at that moment that Cam stood up, proclaiming that she and Justin would head back. He wanted to object, but what other choice did they have? The survivors would need supplies and there was no chance Justin would be comfortable leaving them all here without any form of trained protection. The remnants of Jessica’s squadron could help train others while Justin and Cam were gone, living off of the supplies here until they got back. Ryken made sure that there was enough supplies in the bunker to last a couple of months, which would hopefully be more than enough time for the duo to make it back with…well, potentially a cure to the entire plight of the human race. 
His answer was ready before Jes asked the question. 
“No other way around it. Cam and I will get some rest here, load up and then we move out at daybreak. Hopefully those maniacs got enough of their bloodlust out and are headed back to their encampment. Should make things easier for us.” 
“You’re sure about this?” Jes hissed through her teeth, approaching a bit closer.
“Nope. But we don’t have any other choice, now do we?” He uttered softly, looking to Cam with a gentle smile. 
“At least I know I’ll have good company.” 


The next hour was spent attempting to sort out sleeping arrangements and the logistics of managing fifteen people occupying twenty five hundred square feet, which thankfully included some private rooms that were probably a part of the owner’s living quarters. Justin had secured a large rucksack from the stash of supplies in the storage room at the very back of the bunker and had supplied himself with as much as he could without robbing them blind. He found himself in one of those private rooms, the one farthest down the hall from the main area, sitting on the laminate floor in the center of the room. There were a few cots tucked up against the walls with an antique dresser directly opposite the doorway. He wanted to sleep…he knew he had to. But the events of the past few hours…
“All that blood…could I have stopped that?” He mumbled to himself, laying back onto the cold floor. 
“Is it going to get any better if we succeed?”