Winter, 2010. Fort Augustus, Scotland.
"We're to start this bastard mission in the dead of winter then, are we?"
"You heard the Major. We start as far north as the weather allows and move south. We turn the corpses that aren't too far gone, and if they wake up, well, good for them."
"I dunno, man. Sounds like a never-ending job, like. How do we even know they'll come back?"
"Didn't you see Kyle bring in that batch the other day? All twitching and shit? They weren't trying to bite, weren't snarling. They were waking up. Travis said they're in the labs now being tested. They've got fuckin' heartbeats, mate."
"So that dead girl really did have the cure in her?"
"Don't let Kyle hear you calling her that – he'll take your head off."
"I don't see him around. It just fucking sucks we're being sent north when it's already started to snow."
"Maybe the cold will slow the rotting process. Keep 'em fresh for when we give them the cure. Make them less feral too, hopefully."
"Fat fucking chance, mate."
Spring, 2011. A truck on the A7, Scottish Border.
"Did you want to share my blanket?"
"That's okay, I've not had a chance to clean up."
"The blood looks like it's dry, and I'm used to the mess. Really, it's okay."
"Thank you."
"You're alone?"
"For a long time. They picked me up on the coast near Middlesbrough a few days ago. I lost my husband in the summer. Last summer, that is."
"They caught us in Carlisle. That's my daughter asleep, feral as she is. She's not used to people, of course. Didn't know whether the soldiers were friendly or, you know... The other kind of men."
"Oh, yeah, I've had some close calls. Think that's why they let us keep our weapons, you know?"
"I wouldn't have come if they'd said otherwise. Did they tell you the same thing? About a cure?"
"They had to show me the other truck to convince me. Some of them were twitching, but others looked like they were sleeping peacefully. No rot."
"Fuck me. Wonder who we've got to thank for that? Reckon it's a fucking miracle?"
"Nah. One of the soldiers said it was because of a girl. She was the first one not to turn, and it's her blood they're shooting them with."
"Sounds like a miracle to me. What's her name?"
"You'll have to ask one of the soldiers. My memory is shot; been smacked in the head too fuckin' often."
Summer, 2011. Helles Barracks, North Yorkshire, England.
"How're you finding your new accommodation?"
"Mattress could be memory-foam, Sergeant."
"I'll put it on my shopping list. We'll be depending on army bases like this for a long time, and survivors are coming in almost regularly now. I wouldn't get used to having your own room."
"Got used to dead people trying to eat me pretty quick, reckon I can stomach a roommate."
"Not with your attitude, Tommy. Well... I'm glad you're up and walking. Tomorrow, we'll get you an assignment, keep you busy-"
"I want to fight, Sergeant."
"Tommy-"
"Nah, sir. I ain't no good at cooking, or cleaning, or fixing wounds. I can fight, and I want to help."
"We're not killing them, bud, you understand that? We're not at war, we're not fighting, we're trying to save as many as we can."
"I'm not an idiot – I know that. I don't want revenge; I want to be useful."
"You're awful young, Tommy. Don't you want to stop fighting?"
"That girl was awful young, too. You carry a picture of her, don't you, Sergeant Check? How come she got to help and I don't?"
"Nevaeh had no choice, and don't fuckin' speak about her like you knew her, you understand?"
"Sorry, sir."
"Be up and out your room at 6am. We'll be doing drills and other volunteers will be training. You don't keep up, you can help out in the kitchens."
"Thank you, Sergeant Check."
Fall, 2011. Norfolk, English Coast.
"Can I get a beer, please? Whisky if you've got it."
"Whisky is the good stuff, sugar. You got anything to trade for it?"
"Got, uh... Pack of smokes, almost full. Tell you what, I'm so damn desperate for a proper drink I'll trade this grenade."
"I'll take the grenade, and a cigarette. Here's your drink, hon."
"Appreciate it. You got a light?"
"Sure thing. You one of the soldiers that helped clear the north? Liverpool, Manchester, all those?"
"How'd you know?"
"You guys drink the worst and look the most haggard. Cause the most trouble, too."
"Sorry 'bout that. Surprised there's even a pub here at all; thought this zone had only just been declared clear."
"Pubs pop up before anything else. Soon as the military base and the hospital are running, so is the alcohol. I'd prefer this assignment than patrol or sanitation, that's for sure."
"People got a lot they want to forget, I guess."
"Oh yeah, especially the ones who've come back. The ex-corpses, you know? I've not met many, but they're easy to spot, what with those bright blue eyes and all. They drink more than anyone."
"I heard some of them remember bits and pieces, especially the moments they were turned. Gotta be shit to live with that. I'd drink too."
"Are you here to maintain the safe zone? Or just passing through?"
"Passing through. London is the next big mission. We retake the capitol, we can start to rebuild the infrastructure. Get us up and running again. Get the cure out to the rest of the world."
"London, wow. You're an old-timer then, huh? They don't send volunteers on missions like that."
"I'm from Fort Augustus."
"The Fort Augustus? Piss off."
"Seriously. I'm Sergeant Weathers, though I didn't put in the years you're supposed to. Army needed the structure, and there weren't many with the experience and training, you know? I helped bring back the first truck of cured."
"Jesus H. Christ. Can't believe I'm speaking to someone that was there at the fucking beginning. So you... You met her then? That girl? Nevaeh?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I... I met her."
"Was she as beautiful as they say?"
"Not really. I mean, she was pretty, don't get me wrong. But rough around the edges too, you know? And she had scars and scrapes all over. No one ever talks about those."
"I saw a picture of her once, on one of the cases the cure comes in, you know? That tells you whose blood it is. She looked kinda... Well, she looked very young. And sad, too."
"I've seen the same picture. She didn't smile much, honestly, but she was pretty when she smiled. Prettier when she laughed. I liked her."
"Is it true what they say? That she really died for it? They've not got her in a lab somewhere, pumping blood?"
"The one thing I know for sure in life is that Nevaeh Dailey is dead."
"Fucking hell. Well, for being the most interesting person to ever walk into my rundown little establishment, I'll get you another whiskey, no trading necessary. What did you say your name was again?"
"Weathers. Dylan Weathers."
"Sorry you can't stick around, sugar."
Winter, 2011. Surrey, England.
"I've never heard anything so stupid in all my life, Nathan."
"Seriously! I was up on the road, trading, you know? Watching out for anyone going between the zones-"
"You're supposed to be patrolling, Nathan!"
"And it was couple've trucks of army boys. Well, girls too, like. They stopped and asked if I was all good, asked if there were any pockets've corpses needed curing, ya know? Told 'em we was okay, that the ones we get are too rotten to bring back-"
"Those soldiers were probably joking with you, could tell you were simple as all hell-"
"Nah! They was serious when they said it."
"How could a little old lady survive all these years, Nathan? Tell me that. When was the last time you saw an actual old person, ay?"
"Well, she was in a fuckin' castle. Duh. And she had guards and stuff; obviously she wasn't doing her own fighting."
"Bet none of the fucking family were. Too prissy and posh to get blood on their fine clothes. Bet they still had their diamonds and valuables locked up all safe."
"So you believe it then, huh? They found her on their way into London."
"Fuck off, Nathan. Queen of England is dead, dead and gone. Just like the rest of them."
"Well I believed them. She'll be back in Buckingham Palace soon, you just wait."
Spring, 2012. Pembrokeshire, Welsh Coast.
"Whatcha doing down here, girl? Freeze your tits off standing so near the surf."
"I just wanted to see if I could catch sight of them, that's all. The locals have been watching 'em."
"Might have gone north to colder waters. You doing okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I reckon so. Not often there's fights like that these days, you know? Something to be grateful for, I guess."
"Well, you fought like an animal. Made me proud. And you won't have to do it again now for a good long while; we've run out of British land to clear."
"Wonder what happens now?"
"Some poor squadron will be ordered onto boats and told to clear Ireland. Or if they're really unlucky, they'll be ordered into choppers and over to France, start to clear the continent."
"You reckon it'll ever be over? Entirely?"
"We've got the cure, haven't we?"
"But it brings back so few-"
"Enough. Brings back enough to make a difference. And the ones we can't turn back, we can kill fast with no fuss. We're better armed now than they were when they set off from Fort Augustus. Got bombs to clear the big cities, got volunteers to clean the mess. Plenty of troops like us to fight. We're winning."
"Suppose."
"And lets not be ungrateful for the views we get, huh? Never would have ended up on this pretty beach without that cure; would have been stuck inside a hovel somewhere, waiting to die."
"That's for sure."
"Damn straight."
"I never saw water this blue, not anywhere in Britain. Didn't know our seas looked like this."
"They didn't, before. Suppose there's no boats in the water-"
"Look! Fucking hell, look at that! Swimming as a family. I never saw killer whales in all my life."
"And look at all the little fins; that's their babies, you know? Loads of 'em."
Fall, 2012. Oxford, British countryside.
"I am speaking to you as a citizen of this great nation, and as your new Prime Minister. With the national grid back online, this will, hopefully, be the first of many broadcasts. You do not know me, and you have not voted for me. There will be a time for that, but for now, we need a head of state, and we need stability as we try to rebuild.
"We have made contact with several countries outside our own. Missions into Europe and Northern Africa have been successful, and we've received radio transmissions from Russia and North America. They too, will soon have the cure at their disposal. My fellow Britons, the tide is turning.
"There is a long road ahead, but the fighting, for us, at least, will soon be over. Our population has shrunk to a fraction of what it was; our countryside is still safest, and we might never build cities so big again. We might not need them again. What we do need, is the strength to continue our efforts. We have survived the end of times, and we are battered, and bruised, and perhaps worse for wear. But we are lucky; to have each other, and the cure.
"I'm sure you have heard the rumours. I'm sure tales have already been spun. But I am here to confirm; the cure was bigger than one person, but there is one person who sacrificed everything for it. Her name was Nevaeh Dailey, and she was no more than an extraordinary young woman. The cure is her blood. She died so that the world might recover. I will leave you with a video of her last words to us. I beg you - remember her. Honour her. We will build something better."
Summer, 2014. Video call. German Chancellor. American President. British Prime Minister. Russian Tsar. Queen of Morocco.
"We're going around in circles here, ladies and gentlemen."
"And we'll continue to do so until we come to a reasonable conclusion, Madam Chancellor."
"Don't speak to me like I'm stupid, sir. I don't care that Russia is the only country in the world to still have it's nuclear weapons. It makes you no better than the rest of us."
"The elimination of nuclear weapons is a conversation for another call-"
"Elimination, ha!"
"Don't you see this is a second chance? If we're to survive, we have to forget the old grudges. The world has changed."
"And we're the only country still outnumbered by the dead! The cure was not distributed the way it should have been-"
"I absolutely will not tolerate criticism regarding the cure, Your Highness. My people did what they could, when they could, with the best they had. We didn't have tanks and combat crafts at our disposal. We had boots on the ground; brave men and women outnumbered a couple hundred thousand to one. I appreciate your countries are still trying to recover, but you will not forget who delivered the cure."
"You're right, Prime Minister. Perhaps we could get back to the matter at hand, ladies and gentlemen?"
"I understand having to pause our efforts for the winter, especially in the north. But to close off entire countries-"
"I'm not suggesting we give up hope, Chancellor; I'm suggesting conserving our efforts until a later date. It sounds callous, but we have to adapt to this new world. Why waste resources attempting missions into countries where there is complete radio silence? My greatest hope is that there are survivors, but we have to save those we can."
"This sentiment is all well and good, Prime Minister, and the rest of the world will forever be grateful to the efforts of the United Kingdom. But with all due respect; you're an island. You can afford non-intervention. I've got the north and south to worry about. South America full to the brim with corpses too rotten in the heat to cure, and Canada full to the brim with corpses who do not slow down in the cold. What do you suggest I do?"
"Surely the walls you've built along your borders are still intact, no? And what about your gigantic military budget? I thought you'd have been well equipped to defend your borders, you've always done it so efficiently."
"I'm not sure this is the time for humour, Your Majesty."
"Merely being practical, Mr President. Morocco will accept this course of action. We will take in those we can, and avoid the cities too big and too populated to save. Our borders are shifting every day as we turn the tide on the African continent. We have a long way to go, and we're finding survivors regularly. We are not, however, managing to cure many of the infected. The African sun has left them too rotten, too far gone to save. We kill them, and we do not waste the cure. At present, my country and the neighbouring territories will not risk going south of the equator. It's too full and too hot."
"Sensible choices, Your Majesty. But you, too, have put boots on the ground and seen with your own eyes that it's impossible. That's my issue; we're not going to even try to launch missions? We're going to condemn Australia, Greenland, the islands in and around the Indian Ocean? What about China?"
"China had a billion people in it, and they're all corpses now. Same with India. Their cities were packed full and first to fall. Perhaps there are isolated survivors, but I'm not sending Russian boys into hell without solid proof."
"But will you pledge to open up your borders, like we have here in Germany? For all humans who arrive? No matter where they're from? They will be met with open arms and not turned away?"
"One human in Russia is one less corpse to fight on Russian soil. We will take in those that arrive."
"Mr President? You will do the same in America? No matter where the human arrives from?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. All survivors are welcome on American soil."
"So the claims that you're not letting in survivors from the South without passports are unsubstantiated? Morocco will not stand for unjust prejudice, sir. We are taking in all who come to us-"
"And absorbing the territories you march through!"
"The world has ended, Mr President! Borders mean nothing. What matters is the land we can make safe."
"I agree. The claims were true, for a time. The issues have been rectified. I've seen to it personally."
"Good."
"We are all agreed; our countries will remain open to all humans who arrive seeking help. Should a human arrive infected, they will be given the cure and welcomed still."
"And the matter of intervening?"
"Russia cannot afford the troops nor does it have the resources. My people are still adapting to the reinstitution of the monarchy, and I cannot waste what we do not have. Corpses are spilling up from the south looking for food, and I'm trying to feed my people. I will protect my kingdom and I will welcome survivors. I will do no more."
"The United States is in the same position. I have the resources and I have the volunteers, but I am surrounded on all sides. I will welcome survivors, but we must maintain hard borders. When I have the numbers, my people will march north and south."
"The Kingdom of Morocco does not have walls to defend. I will clear the surrounding territories because this will make my country safe. I will not venture south of the equator; I cannot afford the fight."
"Germany cannot build walls, I'm afraid. We're in the middle of Europe and we are too, surrounded on all sides. Clearing Europe will make my country safe; I will do what I can."
"The United Kingdom will join you in that effort. We may be an island, but we are part of this world. We will not, however, shy away from the difficult decisions. My proposal is that we make no attempt to enter countries without proof. No radio, no survivors, we avoid it."
"How long do we adopt this policy? Forever?"
"Until we are stable, Chancellor."
"I don't like it, but it is a practical decision. Fair enough. We go around the countries that have fallen silent."
"I think the world must have ended to have us agreeing so amiably with each other."
"This is how we must proceed, Your Majesty. We must ask for aid and be willing to provide it. We have been on the brink of ruination; the only way to recover is together."
"Very hopeful of you, Prime Minister. You've risen from the apocalypse a positive person."
"I'm trying to build something better."
Winter, 2014. A plane over the Atlantic Ocean.
"How you holding up, bud?"
"I didn't like flying even when it was a fuckin' routine thing, man. Knowing we're the guinea pigs isn't helping my nerves."
"Couple more hours and we're on American soil. Plus, plenty of soldiers have flown back and forth delivering the cure. We're not on a flimsy private jet, this is as close as you get to an air tank."
"Whatever. Could do with a hostess serving drinks."
"We've stopped drinking, remember? No matter how stressful the situation."
"Like I can forget with you reminding me every time I make a joke, Gerard."
"Sorry."
"It's fine. Stop pouting at me, though. You're weirding me out; I'm fine."
"I'm just glad you're with us. I mean, I assumed you would be. I just didn't know if you'd want to stay longer-"
"Too many reminders. Plus, we're only on this plane because I was her husband, you know? Couldn't turn down the honour of being the first citizens to return to the country."
"That would have seemed rude, I guess. I just thought you'd want to oversee her books as well."
"I trust them to stick to our terms. The originals stay with me. They edit nothing but the spelling mistakes. They're distributed fairly. She'd be happy with all of that, I reckon."
"She would be. Did they try to push more edits in that last meeting?"
"Yeah. Wanted to take out her more scathing views, the swearing, the scarier stories. I said no to all of it. They think she's half a saint, you know? They forget she could kill just as easily as she could save."
"I think I liked her best when she was angry."
"Me too. I won't let them scrub her clean of it all. She wasn't some ethereal angel. It's not what she was."
"We'll remember, okay? No one will ever know her like we did. Maybe... Maybe coming home will distract you, huh? It'll all seem far away to us. It might hurt less."
"I'm not sure I want it to hurt less."
"You don't have to grieve forever. You're not going to forget her, or dishonour her, by recovering."
"I guess I'm just... I'm scared of letting her go, you know? I don't know who I am if I don't love her."
"You'll never stop loving her - it's not who you are. But maybe it's time to make room for other things. Other people."
"You're not seriously trying to talk to me about dating, are you?"
"Well, just a thought. There was that nurse, wasn't there? Lucy? She was-"
"Couldn't stomach her accent. Don't know that I could love someone with an English accent ever again."
"Everything will be a reminder at first. Honestly, I still mistake strangers in a crowd for her. Anyone with long chocolate hair and messy curls and I have to stop myself from calling her name."
"It's her laugh for me. I hear a woman laugh and somehow I hear Nevaeh."
"It'll all fade, Frank. It'll all get easier. No one will sound like her at home. And you won't be able to imagine her in New Jersey."
"I suppose."
"Don't sniffle; you don't want puffy eyes while meeting the President, do you?"
"Fuck the President, I'll cry whenever I want."
"See? Your attitude is already improving."
Spring, 2019. Kingdom of Africa.
"We're honoured to have you here, I hope you're enjoying your stay?"
"I've been very well looked after, Your Majesty. You didn't have to go to so much trouble-"
"Nonsense. Your speeches are fantastic, I've watched more than one. It's off to the southern border tomorrow, is it?"
"We're rising with the sun, yes."
"And you have your weapons prepared? You'll be well protected, of course. The wall splitting this continent in half is a feat of social engineering, but there are still reports of the undead."
"I'm sure we'll be fine, Your Majesty."
"And after that it's a trip to the solar fields in the Sahara, is it?"
"You know my schedule better than I do, ma'am."
"Well, I've made sure to include all the things that bring me the most pride. Totally green energy, totally free energy, for all the world. More than we could ever need, what with our miniscule populations these days."
"Will you impose restrictions on the birth rates, same as the Russian Kingdom? Or encourage pregnancies, same as Scandinavia?"
"We are not controlling the bodies of our women, darling. Not while there's a Queen. Truth be told, Russia still does not have enough to go around, even all these years later. And Scandinavia didn't have many citizens to begin with, even when it was separate countries. We're all coping as best we can."
"Funny, isn't it? It all feels so long ago now, and the years spent recovering far outweigh the years we spent in the middle of the infection. But there are still..."
"Wounds? Maybe we'll recover one day, with continued effort."
"Will you ever knock down the Southern Wall?"
"I don't know. Maybe not. The corpses will rot to meat and bones one day, maybe then. Maybe I'll leave it to the lions and the elephants and the gorillas. Give them the space we stole."
"That's promising. You know we have whales in British waters now? Orca, grey whales. And there are wolves, too. We have the room, of course, and we're trying not to occupy so much space."
"I heard about the conservation efforts. Still fulfilling her wish, aren't you?"
"It's a convenient rallying cry. Building something better; do better, be better, help each other, help the world. I suppose, in the beginning, no one knew what to do or how to start fixing everything. Her final words pointed us in a direction and ordered us down a certain path. We're still following that path, I suppose."
"We are grateful to Nevaeh Dailey here; my kingdom will honour her, remember her. We will build the same monuments, hold the same festivals. But she's still a very real presence for your country, isn't she?"
"Because there are real people there that knew her, were saved by her. That inspires a certain amount of awe. There are her books to contend with, too. Some consider them to be teachings, a doctrine, almost. Others just love her stories. She's a point of pride for us; like Shakespeare or something, you know?"
"Does that hurt? You must be tired of these questions, forgive me-"
"No! No, that's okay. You're easy to talk to, it's nice not to speak as a diplomat, for once."
"I'm glad you feel that way about me. It's nice not to speak as a queen, for once."
"To answer your question... It does hurt, sometimes. Only when people make assumptions about her. She wasn't a saint, or a God. She was a girl with a rotten attitude and a way with words. She had no sense of self preservation and a horrendous temper. She was brave and loyal and smarter than anyone I'd ever met. I... I loved her."
"More than a friend?"
"More than that, yes."
"You miss her."
"I do. She was the one constant in my life, and I did her many disservices when she was alive. I'm trying to make up for that by doing this; making the world a better place. I'll see her again, and I'll have plenty of stories of my own to share with her."
"Well, to add to the plethora of stories, have a drink with me. One day, you'll be able to tell Nevaeh Dailey of the time you got tipsy with a queen."
"I'd be honoured."
"The honour is mine, Natalie."
Fall, 2019. Phone call, London to East America.
"You are coming to the wedding, aren't you? Ray's dying for you to meet his little ones."
"I dunno, Mikes. It's going to be an absolute circus, isn't it? Bad enough when it's one of us but all of us together?"
"Top secret location. Security all over. Come on, Liss."
"It's the fiasco of travelling as well. People in my fuckin' face asking questions. Asking for pictures. Scrutinising my every move."
"I'll send someone to the airport to pick you up. You travel incognito. How will people know?"
"There's like a few flights a month to America, and private jets don't exist anymore. It's a little hard to hide."
"So you're going to miss the wedding for the sake of an uncomfortable journey? Don't be a baby. We're dying to see you in the flesh after all this time. And you can stay for a few weeks, see the new cities."
"I dunno..."
"Surely you're getting sick of London, just a little?"
"I haven't bought myself a drink in weeks, Mikey. People just... Give me things. Of course, no such thing as rent here or whatever, but I got a way bigger apartment than I needed, one of the nicer ones, you know? I mean, they all have to meet a certain standard, that's the law and all that. But mine is luxurious for absolutely no reason."
"Not for no reason, Lissa."
"No, of course not. I know it's because of Nevaeh. Guess I'm lucky she never wrote about how much of a fucking bitch I was in those books of hers, huh?"
"We all have things about those years that we'd rather forget. And if that's why you won't come see us... If you think Frank still holds some sort of grudge... You're wrong. We miss you, and we love you."
"Is Nat going?"
"Flying over from Africa in a few days. She's staying for a couple of weeks too, carrying out some duties, in and around seeing us. And let's not forget you're an aunty... Who hasn't met her nieces... And there's a groomsmen's dress waiting for you..."
"Fuck sake, Mikes. Can't be the only one not there, can I?"
"That's fucking rad, Liss. The boys are gonna be so excited."
"Which one of you is getting married, again?"
"Oh, fuck off."
"I'll apply for the plane ticket tonight, okay? And seriously, one question."
"Go on."
"I'm not gonna be forced to meet your President, am I? She seems like a bit of a wanker."
"Yeah, she's tough, but you'll like her. She might be at the reception."
Winter, 2019. America, undisclosed location.
"How you feeling?"
"Good, great! Well, okay. Nervous, I guess-"
"Okay, let's calm ourselves down. I'm gonna fix your bowtie, and just breathe deep while I do it, all right? Don't want you sprinting up that aisle or collapsing because you've forgot to inhale."
"Thanks, Ray."
"You're welcome."
"How are Nat and Alissa? Liss's dress needed some adjustments, and Natalie wasn't sure about her hair-"
"Everything is fine. They feel great, the guys feel great, guests are sat down. Nothing to worry about."
"Okay. Did you speak to- I know I'm not supposed to know... But did she look-?"
"Well, the bridesmaids suite looked like a war zone, so I didn't go past the doorway. Thought I'd be knocked out by a hairbrush or shoe or somethin'. But it was all giggles and jokes. Everyone seemed happy."
"Did you see her?"
"I did."
"She's okay?"
"She was okay. Almost ready, taking a few pictures. Her sister was fixing the buttons on her dress."
"So you reckon she'll turn up, like?"
"Don't be an idiot, man. She loves you. You love her. You're ready for this. Actually, I reckon we're all ready to see this, you know? We all deserve to be happy."
"I think so, too. I just wish my parents were here... Well, wish a lot of people were here."
"I know."
"Do you think Nevaeh would approve?"
"She'd like the colour scheme, that's for sure."
"I can't help but feel guilty. Just... Carrying on with life when she never got to."
"She'd want us to carry on. Nevaeh was many things, but she wasn't selfish. We'd be doing her a disservice if we missed out on life because we were too busy missing her."
"I guess you're right. Where are my other best men, anyway?"
"Mikey's herding the bridesmaids, and I think Frank's been collared by some foreign diplomats. Nat's helping him. Alissa is... Drinking."
"Well, that's expected of groomsmen I guess. Long as she doesn't sleep with a bridesmaid."
"Literally not making any promises, Gerard."
"Hey, do you think... Do you reckon we'll be doing this with Frank one day? Honestly?"
"Jeez, man. I dunno. I hope so."
"Me too."
"You ready?"
"Fuck yeah. Lets get me married."
Winter, 2019. America, undisclosed location.
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
"You're not. Sorry, I was just... Taking a minute to breathe."
"Oh, me too. Starting to sweat in some not very nice places from all that dancing."
"Good to know."
"Sorry, as you can no doubt tell, I've also been drinking."
"That's what weddings are for, I guess. Drinking, dancing or crying."
"Which category do you fall under, might I ask?"
"Probably the last one."
"Well, you don't have a drink in your hand, and you're not sweating like a pig same as me, so I believe you."
"I don't drink. And I'm a pretty shit dancer. If you can count throwing yourself around a stage dancing-"
"Which I don't think qualifies, unfortunately."
"I don't think so, either."
"So you're not dancing, and you're not drinking. How comes you're crying?"
"Happy tears."
"Are they?"
"Couse they are. I'm happy to see Gerard happy. Glad to see so many humans in one room. Doesn't happen much anymore."
"Oh yeah, I got a bit worried when I saw it was a remote location. Thought we'd see a few corpses. Stragglers, ya know? Suppose we'll be finding them for decades to come."
"Yeah, probably. The ones in the south will rot, eventually. Nothing to worry about."
"But the cold in the north keeps 'em fresh. You couldn't catch me visiting Scandinavia, even if it is a spanking new country, or-... Territory, or whatever they call it now."
"I've been invited."
"And turned them down? Rude of you."
"I get invitations from all over, now and again. Unveil a statue or monument or school or... Whatever."
"I suppose you all get those, huh?"
"Yeah, me most of all though. Natalie gets a lot too."
"Does she turn them down? Like you do?"
"She's a diplomat now. She has to be diplomatic. I think she goes to a lot of them; especially the academic ones, you know? Libraries, schools, universities, that sort of thing."
"And you? What do you go to?"
"Not nearly as many as I should. I hate the noise of it all. Hate people making speeches like they know what the fuck they're talking about. And I never go to see a statue."
"Why not? Sorry to pry, I just thought... You'd like to- Ya know... See her-"
"See a smoothed out, perfect version of her? Doesn't matter what material they use. Marble, steel, fucking gold. They always make her more beautiful than she was."
"I've seen some of the more candid photos on display. She always looked a little injured, but, she was- Well, she was pretty, don't you think-?"
"Of course I think that. She was stunning to me. But... I didn't love her because she was pretty. I loved her because-... Well, there are too many reasons to list. But she didn't look like that. They always forget her scars."
"Fuck. That must be frustrating. To be one of the few people who knew her and know, absolutely, that the whole world is getting it wrong. And, obviously, you want to correct them, but how do you do that without looking like an asshole? Can't exactly tell the world your wife was a bit of dick when they think she was a saint."
"I-... Yeah. Yeah, that is the issue."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to call your dead wife a dick."
"You really have a way with words, you know that?"
"You're laughing, ain't you? My work here is done."
"She was a bit of a dick. I mean-... Not, like, not seriously. She was stubborn, and uncompromising. She was reckless. She had a temper. She was unreasonable and fucking god, she was good at arguing."
"You loved her."
"Jesus Christ, I loved her."
"I suppose that's the beauty of it. You knew the bad bits better than anyone else in the world, but... You got the best of her, too. You're the only person in the world who knows what it's like to be in love with Nevaeh Dailey. That means you're the only one who knows what she was truly capable of."
"How'd you reckon that?"
"Because we'd all do great and terrible things for love."
"Aren't you a smart one?"
"A way with words, and smart? You're simply spoiling a girl with compliments."
"Well, I'm out of practice."
"That's okay. My self-esteem can handle the time it takes you to figure it out. Now, this might be totally inappropriate, what with the conversation we just had, but would you... Want to grab a drink with me?"
"I don't drink."
"Grab a dance with me, then?"
"I don't dance."
"Sit in a corner and cry with me some more?"
"I guess I could give that a go."
"Do you mind if I grabbed a drink? I'm gonna need it if you're set on looking glum for most of the night."
"Well, maybe your cheerful disposition and inappropriate comments will stop me crying."
"We can only hope. Nice to meet you, by the way."
"Back at you. I'm Frank, officially."
"It'd be hard not to know who you are at this point, sweetheart."
Fall, 2020. East America, dining room.
"You want a coffee?"
"Sure, man. Thanks."
"I'll get it-"
"You don't have to, honey. Let me-"
"No, no. You boys catch up."
"You need any help, just shout through-"
"Gerard, I'm pregnant, not an invalid. I can make a damn pot of coffee."
"How're those hormones working for your household, huh?"
"Honestly, Frank, I've been more emotional than she has. I'm a nightmare; trailing after her tryna make her be careful when she's doing normal shit. She lost her patience with me about a month into the pregnancy and hasn't managed to find it since."
"How far along is she now?"
"Seven months. Almost there. I'm so ready to be a dad, man. I've painted the nursery about six times. Settled on sage green, calming, you know?"
"I guess."
"And, uh, how's your household?"
"Good. It's good. We're... We're figuring things out."
"I'm sorry I've not been checking in much, Frank. Just, the baby and-"
"Hey, don't apologise. You need to focus on your family."
"You are my family, idiot. She came home then? That was the last thing you told me; she'd left and taken some things and needed to think everything through."
"I think... Well, she knew what she was signing on to, you know? That was my argument. Every single one of us is going to be tied to Nevaeh for the rest of our lives, in some way. But her argument is that she didn't know there'd be three of us in our relationship."
"And is there? Because, yes, we're all going to be tied to Nevaeh, and we're all happy to be associated with her, but, Frank... I don't know that we all hold onto her the way you do."
"I know that. I know I've not been... That I don't- Jesus, Gerard. What am I supposed to say? That I'm afraid of letting her go? That I'm terrified of forgetting her? Sometimes I think she took my heart with her."
"Nevaeh wouldn't have done that to you, Frank. She wasn't like that. She died because she wanted all of us to live. She died for our second chance, so you could live in a safe world. She didn't steal your heart, Frank, you've buried it with her."
"I didn't mean to. I... I promised that I'd live without her, for as long as I could."
"And do you reckon this is living? Still mourning. Unwilling to love anyone else. The only woman brave enough to approach your miserable face in the last ten years and you, what, screw it up?"
"Ouch."
"I'm not gonna apologise for being harsh. That woman loves you. And you're not being fair to her. You're not being fair to Nevaeh, either, because you're wasting what she gave us. You're going to have to choose, Frank."
"There isn't a choice to be made."
"You've been making a choice. By holding yourself back, you're choosing Nevaeh. By keeping your girl at arm's length, you're choosing Nevaeh. You can live a life, Frank, or you can love a dead girl. But loving her isn't going to bring her back. And I know which option Nevaeh would want you to pick."
"But how am I suppose to distance myself from her, Gerard? The world won't let me, I mean we're due at that fucking ceremony next month, for example-"
"I'm not saying you shut Nevaeh out forever. Like I said, we're all linked to her. We all have to deal with that. We're all happy to be tied to her, except, well, maybe Alissa. But stop clinging to her. She's not going to be angry with you for letting go."
"I always suspected you were a genius, man."
"My wife would disagree with you. Sorry to be harsh."
"Nah, don't apologise. I've said these things to myself a hundred times over. I needed to hear them from someone else who loved her, you know?"
"Fuck me, I loved her. I dunno that I'll ever be able to stop writing songs about her, or drawing her. And I'll be telling my daughter about her too. We owe Nevaeh that; remembering her properly."
"Do you reckon she sees us, Gerard? Do you reckon she looks back?"
"Maybe on the big stuff. Glances in when we get married, or have kids, or reach a milestone. Maybe she was there when we played the new album on stage for the first time, to see which songs were about her. Maybe she's here in moments of danger, telling us not to take a certain road or walk down a certain alley. I dunno, man. Mostly I picture her with her family, waiting for us to come along."
"She'll be watching when she gets the Nobel Peace prize next month then, for sure."
"Oh, she wouldn't miss that shit."
"Bet she's preening as we speak. She was always so smug about being intelligent."
"Yeah, she fucking was. Smartass. But what I remember most was her ability to be... Entirely selfless. That's why I loved her. I've never met anyone willing to do what she did for other people. Not just dying, but, all of it, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. I just miss her, Gerard. I miss not being able to live a life with her."
"I know that. It... It'll get easier. Once you start, once you decide... It'll all get easier."
"You're right. It's time to let Nevaeh go. She'd want me to be happy."
"She'd want that for all of us. For everyone. It's who she was."