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I watched in silence as the man with the shotgun lay dead in front of me, bleeding heavily from a bullet to the head. I could feel Cynthia shaking madly behind me, scared to see what was laying in front of us. The three guys ran off in a panic, leaving their supply packs behind. Jack and Damien went to get the new supplies as Marge walked over to me, concern written across her face.
"Zee? You alright?" Marge asked me. I didn't answer her. To be rather honest, I didn't know what to think; I was just trying to stay strong. That was the first time I had ever needed to stare a gun down. A shotgun, no less. The entire experience was more than just terrifying. Yet despite that, I still hid my fears knowing Cynthia was standing right behind me.
"Yeah I'm fine," I deadpanned a little too quickly.
"Okay then. If you say so," Marge replied surprised, arms raised in the air, "Just know that you don't gotta tough it out. I know from the way your acting that something's bothering you." She walked off towards Jack and Damien, who were examining the corpse of the dead man to make sure he wouldn't "turn", as Damien liked to say. I was about to head over with her, but I felt a tug on my vest. I turned to see Cynthia with her head down. She placed a hand on my right shoulder and just held it there in silence, un-moving.
"Um, Cynthia? Are you okay?" I asked a bit nervously. She didn't respond to me; she didn't even raise her head to acknowledge me. She just stood there with her head kept down. She doesn't look like she's hurt at least, I noted as I looked her over. She was almost untouched save for a few bruises from the debris that flew around during the fight. With everything that I saw so far I couldn't help but wonder what was on her mind. I didn't bear to ask since I was scared that it may have reminded her of her past. Wait a minute...

"Cynthia, look at me please," I suddenly asked her in a serious tone. She flinched a bit; I must have sounded harsh. I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently shook them, trying to get her to look at me in the eyes. I needed to confirm what I was thinking. A few moments of silence passed between us like this, with me gently shaking her to look up. At last, Cynthia moved, letting go of my shoulder and raising her head. What I saw confirmed my fears: the fight reminded her of what had happened to her. She was in tears, eyes puffy and red from holding back as trails of tears shed long ago shined in the light of the sun outside. I swallowed hard, not really knowing what to do. My thoughts were a complete mess; I found no way to clear them. My emotions were mixed as well; sadness and sympathy clashing with anger and frustration. I just continued to look at her as she stared into my eyes before she tackles me into a hug, burying her face into my neck. She holds me tightly as if she were afraid I would disappear, and I begin to feel a certain wetness trailing down my neck. She was crying again. She was scared again. And all I could do was stand there and place my hands around her in hopes to assure her that I was still there.

It was maybe about an hour in that I noticed Marge walking over to me with concern plastered on her face. Jack and Damien had finished sorting out all the new supplies and gear and were merely watching Cynthia and I from a distance. Cynthia just kept sobbing into my neck, unaware of her surroundings and emotionally vulnerable.
"Is everything alright?" Marge questioned me. I looked up at her with pained eyes. I didn't know what to do.
"She's scared mostly," I explained, "It looks like our fight brought up some... unwanted memories for Cynthia. I'll keep a close eye on her. Could you and the guys pack up our stuff? We should go while we still have some decent daylight." Marge looked outside the mall windows. Sure enough, it would be a long while until the sun would begin to set. If we were to set out now, we would be a good ways from this city. And for Cynthia, a long way away from this.
"Sure thing. Let me know if you two need anything," Marge said reluctantly, heading back over towards our small encampment. I nodded my thanks and returned my attention to Cynthia.
"Hey, come on now," I consoled her, "It's all over now. You don't have to be afraid anymore. We're here for you now. Marge, Jack, Damien and me. We're gonna make sure you'll be okay. So no need for the tears, 'kay?" I continued to console her like this; little whispers of reassurance that she was safe. She just held me close, trying her best to calm down. I could tell that this would take awhile. I decided that the faster we got away from this place, the better for Cynthia to mentally recover.

"Hey Zee! We're good to go!" I heard Damien call out to me. I turned my head to see all three of them ready to go. Damien was armed our newly acquired shotgun with Jack holding my pack and Marge holding Cynthia's. Jack and Marge both had armed themselves with pistols as well. I nodded and squeezed Cynthia gently to get her attention. "We're gonna be leaving this place now. Ready to go?" I asked her softly. Cynthia had finally calmed down and was just holding onto me at this point. She finally let go of me but remained close, keeping her face down. "Yes, I'm ready," she replied hoarsely. Poor girl cried so much she's lost her voice, I thought. At this point, even though I've only known her for - Christ, just about a week now - I've found myself wanting to protect her from everything that scared her. How odd that she's the only one I've known to do that to me. We walked over towards Jack and Marge to grab our things and headed out and away from the mall.

Within two months of just traveling, killing reams, and the occasional raid on a rest stop or small town, we made it to another city. This one had lost its name to time just like in my town, but at least it still held its fair share of ancient glamour like Las Vegas did. A few casinos with their fancy broken signs as well as a good gun store for raiding made it a good spot for us to camp out for a few days. Ever since leaving the Vegas Mall (Damien's naming idea, not mine), Cynthia and I had been talking and just getting to know one another. For starters, Cynthia doesn't remember how exactly she ended up in the care of Marge when we first met. However, the incident at the mall prompted a very deep and guttural fear within her to tear up and shiver. And, she likes the color teal. And bunnies. Do not ever bring her on one of the animal hunting expeditions, I mentally took note, and don't EVER say you killed the bunnies when you come back.
"Setting up here for a few days sound good to you guys?" Jack called out to everyone, "I can see a building that's in pretty good shape that we can hole up in for a bit."
"I'm up for it," Marge chimed in.
"I got no complaints," Damien added.
"Then it's settled; we'll be staying here until thought otherwise," I announced. Still don't think I should be the leader of the group as they say I am, I inwardly sighed. It was only two days after we had left the Vegas Mall that Jack brought it up.
~~~~~
  It was a calm night and Jack, Damien and I had just come back to the group with fresh catches since we ran out of food rather quickly. Marge made good use of the pelts to create new bandages and even managed to give me a pair of black-stained finger-less fur gloves for the winter with what she had left. Cynthia, on the other hand, came over to me with water and some of the last remaining food supplies we had left before doing the same for Jack and Damien. She's no longer scared of them, but she still refuses to talk to them too much.

  "What the hell do you mean Zee should lead the group? Shouldn't that be you Jack?" Damien was the first to comment on the suggestion. It was a topic that sprung up over our nightly meal of roasted rabbit meat (Cynthia still never questioned what I hunted, thankfully) as we recounted the events that occurred at the mall.
"I'm just saying that she's got a sound mind; probably more logical than my own," Jack replied calmly. Marge looked just as surprised as Jack but chose not to speak her mind. She as well as I knew that Damien was perfectly capable of projecting that for us.
"But I don't get it. If we are thinking of whose leading this group, shouldn't it be between the ones who've actually led groups? Like you or even Marge?" Damien countered. I'll admit, I was also curious as to why Jack chose me out of all the people of our little group. I did appreciate the compliments that Jack flowered me in but it wasn't necessary to make me leader. Jack smiled and turned to Marge. "Do you have any objections to my suggestion? You're awfully quiet about it," he said to her. Marge smirked.
"I don't have any qualms with it, to be honest," Marge replied, "I'm just curious as to your reasoning. Zee's a smart cookie for sure but why make her leader of this group when you've been leading it so well already?"
"Me? Leading this group? You've misunderstood something Marge," Jack laughed, "Everything I did was merely Zee's suggestions."
"What do you mean?" I spoke up, confused as to what he meant by that. Cynthia looked on whilst holding tight to my left arm; she was curious as well. Damien and Marge stared at Jack with awaiting eyes. He sighed loudly.

  "Well, for starters, Zee's the one who didn't want to raid and kill your old group, Marge," Jack began, "In fact, the idea to negotiate came from her, see." From this Marge turned to me in surprise. I was taken aback by Jack's sudden recollection of the past, but nodded in confirmation.
"Well I'll be. I thought it was your idea, Jack. Color me surprised," Marge exclaimed. Damien chuckled heartily.
"Yup. It was all thanks to that kid that you and Cynthia are still alive and kicking. Otherwise you'd be reams," Damien commented. Jack nodded and turned to Damien.
"As for you, Damien," Jack went on, "The reason why I choose not to lead the group is because Zee's been more considerate of the group than I am. Look at what you're eating; that's something she went out of her way to find for this group. She's more caring for this group as well as an intelligent kid. What better leader could you ask for?" Damien gulped, finding no way to counter Jack's claim. Everything that he had said so far had been true; I do have a tendency to contribute to the group a lot.
"Oh, and one last thing," Jack spoke again, "The final reason why she should be leader is because she's the only one who has been able to keep this group together. Damien, you and I still can't talk to Cynthia properly without her running scared from just seeing us approach her. Even Marge doesn't interact with her much. The only one whose been able to talk to all of us on equally respected terms has always been Zee. Notice that yet?" Everyone got silent after that. It was true; I was the only one able to talk to everyone on an equal level since Cynthia was still somewhat scared to talk or interact with anyone else.
"What do you say, Zee? You up for it?" Jack finally turned to me. I remained silent,not quite sure what to say. Just taking care of myself in this day and age was a large responsibility in and of itself; to lead a group was something I didn't really consider doing. Especially this group, which I assumed was mostly led by Jack. However, after hearing his explanation on how and why he did what he did based on what I said, I felt that I couldn't refuse.
"Fine, I'll do it. I'll be the leader of our group," I finally stated, "But on the condition that no one treat me as such unless it's necessary to do so. Got it?"

That's what we all agreed to, but ever since that day everything that we did all counted on my final say in the matter. At least, some of the times when we find a place that we can rest off of for a while. I had made the same call in some of the other towns on the way to this city, but that was few in number. We set up camp in a small house that remained somewhat intact despite the Catastrophe and were resting after so much walking that morning. Jack, Damien and Marge were all sitting around a small fire discussing something. I didn't bother to take part; my thoughts were elsewhere as I sat against one of the house's front windowsills. I couldn't help but to think back to that day at the mall; the fear that took hold of me. I had never been afraid of something before, not even after becoming the outcast of my own home. I had overcome those fears with time, but this fear wasn't like the others. It haunted me and gave me no time to rest. It made my wary and cautious of my own movements and the movements of the group. My group, I reminded myself, this is now MY group; I have to make sure everyone is safe.
"Zee," Cynthia called out to me softly. I barely heard her, let alone sensed that she had walked right up to me. I turned my head and saw her, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight through the window. She must have been concerned that I had been rather silent.
"Cynthia, is something up?" I asked. Cynthia shook her head in reply. I moved from the window to stand before her, wondering what was going on. She inched closer to me and took my left hand, tugging it towards the stairs leading to the second floor of the house.

"Come with me. I wanna talk to you alone," she said. And with that, the two of us headed upstairs leaving Jack, Damien and Marge unaware of where we were.