Reid did his best to keep his rapidly-growing anger in check.

He stood in front of the Rec Hall's double doors, staring down the pair of young men 'guarding' the entrance. They both wore homemade 'badges' that doubled as name tags. The badges and their outfits reminded him of Sara's attempts at cosplay. Toby stood to his left - he was a thick, muscular young man that reminded Reid of amateur wrestlers. Toby's eyes were fixed on the ground, and he shook slightly where he stood. For all his implied strength, he exuded cowardice in every action. Toby hadn't looked Reid in the eye a single time during the conversation.

Walt was on Reid's right. He was gangly - almost to the point of looking sickly, but everything about him radiated a quiet confidence and authority. He wore a grey, long-sleeved button up shirt that sported the campground's name and logo, though he'd attached his makeshift badge directly on top of it. He had jet-black hair, a slightly upturned nose, and the barest hint of stubble growing on his chin. A walkie-talkie and Leatherman were attached to his belt, and he had an odd looking baseball bat strapped to his back. His grey-blue eyes bored into Reid.

"Everyone here has family inside, sir. But you all have to wait until the injured get stabilized before you can go in."

Reid was getting frustrated... and had started to do a bit of yelling.

"My WIFE is in there! And she's not injured! So your rule doesn't apply, and you can just let me in!"

Walt's eyebrow shot up for a moment, betraying some curiosity. "Please lower your voice. People are trying to recover inside. If your wife isn't injured, you can definitely wait - especially if she's part of the medical staff. Let them do their jobs, sir."

It made complete logical sense. Reid didn't care. "I need to talk to whoever's in charge here! I'd talk to Marlene, but she's inside, too! So go get whoever is in charge and I can talk to them!"

Toby's entire body flinched. Walt gave Toby an evaluating glance, then turned back to Reid.

"Technically, my older brother Toby here is 'in charge'... but his answer is the same as mine. No entry until they tell me it's all clear. Look, I know you helped out everyone quite a bit during the last wave. I thank you for that. But you don't get to ignore the rules just because you did a good thing."

Reid was still trying to piece together a retort when someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ya gotta give Walt here a break - he's always been a stickler for rules. Boy's not even seventeen yet but he's got a head thicker than the Hoover and a backbone to match."

Reid turned to find an older man with a short, white beard. He wore a stained, hi-vis shirt and jeans so faded they were almost white. His body had the telltale build someone could only achieve through decades of sun exposure, manual labor, and alcohol. The old man turned to Walt.

"I'm gonna treat our new friend here to a beer while he waits. He'd relax better if he knew you'd come to tell us when he can get inside." Walt's mouth twisted in a hint of a frown. The old man's eyes seemed to take on a mischievous sparkle. "Or better yet - Toby can be the one to run the news. I still owe him a drink for telling James where to find me yesterday."

Walt nodded, with just a hint of a smile on his lips.

Reid found himself being whisked away from the Rec Hall. The old man talked at length about Toby and Walt as they walked. The 'boys' were sons of the late owners of the campground. Toby was in his mid-twenties, and his name was the one on all the paperwork. But it was Walt - at sixteen - that had actually stepped up and took over the family business's operations. There was an obvious respect in the man's voice when he talked about Walt, and a bit of contempt when he mentioned Toby.

"Ah! I almost forgot. I'm Mark." He stopped walking to hold out a hand.

Reid shook it, and was surprised at how strong the man's grip was. It was the first time he'd had a turn speaking in the 'conversation', and he tried to make the most of it.

"I'm Reid. Sorry for back there - I'm a bit anxious to see my family. Do you know Susan? Or Sara? And, where exactly are we going?"

Mark guffawed. "Do I know 'em, he says. Everyone knows those two. Girl's been making friends with just about everybody here, crafting people outfits and helping otherwise damn near all hours of the day. Honestly I'm not sure what that girl runs on but I wish I had her energy. And Susan is the head honcho healer - don't see her much but what I have seen her do is right magic. It's unbelievable - even if I can do this-" Energy swirled in Mark's hand, then quickly condensed into a wooden mug. He tossed it to Reid.

It was solid, and heavy. A long handle adored one side, and a fancy-looking "R" was set into the other.

"Hang onto that. Because where we're going is the best place here, and you'll need the mug. It might be a bit dusty, but it's comfortable. The kinda place you can see yourself spending a bunch of time in, you know?"

Down a small hill, an older tow-behind camper sat at the center of a small campsite devoid of grass. Wooden tables, chairs, and a wooden awning had seemingly grown out of the ground around it. Reid turned the mug in his hand - it was probably Mark's skill that made all of that. The camper and the extra wooden structure were very obviously someone's attempt at turning their campsite into a bar. Solar-powered string lights hung down in sagging lines, and a wooden sign atop the camper named it as "Warren's".

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

A fairly large group of people were there drinking. Some held sudsy mugs, others appeared to be gulping down sports drinks and flavored water. Almost all of them had spears and other weapons set against their tables or still strapped to their backs.

A gruff-looking man with a wild beard stood behind the bar. He was staring down at a plastic mechanical timer that was ticking away on a wide bar rail. On the far end of the bartop, CCR's 'Bad Moon Rising' played out of an old battery-powered CD/Radio.

Mark ordered Reid a drink, and the two sat down at a dusty table together. They chatted for a while - or, really, Mark spun a series of barely believable stories - as Reid nursed his beer. It was a bit warm, but it wasn't bad. Even as Mark tried to hold his attention, his mind kept drifting back to Sara and Susan. His beer was nearly empty when Toby came to say visitors could now enter the Rec Hall. Mark offered to walk back to the Rec Hall with Reid, and he happily accepted. Reid could use the continued company to keep his mind occupied.

As they walked up the hill, the timer buzzed, and the bartender - Warren - shouted to his patrons. "One hour warning! If you're on this wave, move your ass! One free drink when you make it back!"

Nearly half the people that had been drinking rose from their seats and started up the hill behind Reid and Mark. A few of them recognized Reid and thanked him for his help during the last wave. The group mingled and walked. They explained how salamanders were attacking every two hours, and that the number of salamanders was increasing with each wave. They seemed confident in repelling the next attack, as long as Mark's walls were back to decent condition, and no one else set them on fire.

As they neared the Rec Hall, a young man approached their group, quickly introduced himself as Lowell, and dragged Mark off to do 'emergency repairs' to the fortifications. Reid was too caught up in his own thoughts to hear their conversation.

"THAT's Susan's lost husband? Mark, why didn't you have him wash up? He smells like a butcher shop after three days without power. He isn't even wearing a shirt."

"I know!" Mark chuckled. "It's gonna be hilarious."

#

Almost everyone in the Rec Hall was giving Reid a wide berth. Even though he was allowed inside, no one was allowed to walk down the hallway into the 'treatment' section of the building. So he milled about in an open space of the high-ceilinged great room that was doubling as a waiting area. Ping pong tables were folded up against one wall, and disorganized rows of plastic folding chairs made up the actual space where everyone was supposed to sit and wait. Some people did stop to say hello and thank him for his help with the salamanders, and he was talking to one of them when a shout came from across the room.

"Dad!?"

Sara's voice was filled with hope, disbelief, and longing.

"DAAADDDD!!!" Sara ran over to him and he scooped her up in a spinning hug as he lifted his daughter off the floor.

The knot of tension eased in his gut as an overwhelming sense of relief washed over him. He'd fought monsters and trudged through miles and miles of woods to be here - and it was all worth it. Every cut and bite, the broken bones - the headaches and heat and pain of patching himself back together over and over. Even eating pocket jerky covered in lint. No matter the weight of his journey, it couldn't compare to this moment.

Sara was clinging to him like a vice. She spoke softly, more like she was reassuring herself than talking to him. "You're here. You're really here. You're alright. You're here."

They stayed that way for a long while, tears rolled down both their faces while they just held each other. When things finally calmed, Sara sniffed audibly. "What is - *hurk* - ohmygodwhatisthatsmell?" She gagged a few times, then threw up on Reid's boots.

#

Right after she made their reunion even more memorable, Sara had ushered Reid into a simple full bathroom that sported a gravity-fed shower and handed him a trash bag for everything he was wearing. When he finally stepped out and toweled off, a stack of clean clothes and a pair of sneakers were waiting for him. The trash bag with his pants and boots was gone, and he was fairly certain Sara would have them burned. Reid was a bit surprised to realize he didn't really mind. After all, the boots really were beyond just washing clean.

Reid wasn't sure how she'd managed it, but his daughter had found him clothing that actually fit - even though he'd gone up a few sizes and she hadn't asked what sizes he needed. He stared at himself in the mirror. The shirt she'd given him... would not have been his first choice. It was white, with bold text that read 'Virginia is for lovers, but Pennsylvania has Intercourse', with an outline of the state's shape, and a red X that marked where the actual town of Intercourse, Pennsylvania resided.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Sara was waiting for him. She looked at his shirt and bit back an impish smile, but it radiated from her eyes. Any misgivings Reid had about his new outfit melted away like they'd never existed. He grabbed her in another bear hug, spun her again, and set her back on the ground. It was only then he realized she was wearing different clothes from the first time he saw her.

"Sorry about earlier - the mess, I mean," he said, a bit sheepishly. "I didn't really think about what shape I was in. The outfit you were wearing - is it salvageable?"

She laughed - a bubbly high tone, so much like her mother's. "Dad, they're just clothes." She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards a folding table and bench back in the Rec Hall's great room. "Come on, I had some food prepped for you, and - dang, your arm is solid."

Reid sat down in front of a full plate - a single chicken cutlet surrounded by large quantities of fresh vegetables. Sara took a seat directly beside him, and scooted in until her shoulder met his arm. Then she leaned into him harder - like he would disappear if she stopped touching him.

He devoured the chicken, and shoved vegetables in his mouth as fast as he could chew. Sara just kept leaning on him silently. Most of the people that walked past their table waved to her, and she gave small waves back. Reid was impressed that she'd actually seemed to make friends with everyone, and it wasn't just Mark spinning a story. He would have to ask her what she'd been up to once he finished his meal.

He was close to done when a growing commotion came down the hallway towards the great room. Sara elbowed him in the ribs excitedly.

"That's gotta be mom! Quick, do something funny!"

Reid glanced around, then grabbed a mostly-intact carrot off the table and waited for the right moment. The conversation drifted in from the hallway.

"I KNOW! And I'll probably need another hour to get her conscious, James - so yes, I'm going to take a minute to use the restroom. Then, I'm going to eat something so we don't end up with two people passed out in my OR."

Susan flew into the great room, flanked by helpers. She wore a white jacket that was dirty with dried blood, and her hair was mostly hidden under a surgical cap. She had bags under her eyes, and large red lines ran across her face where a mask had dug into her skin.

She was the most beautiful thing in the universe, and Reid drank in the sight. Her eyes flitted around the room until she found Sara, then went wide as saucers.

"Reid!"

Reid took a bite out of the carrot in his hand and put on a goofy smile.

"Hey. What's up, Doc?"