Groundlings

Evening creeped upon them faster than anyone had expected it to. It had taken hours after the ceremony to get the whole expedition down on the ground and rolling. They’d been given some time to just stand and gape-- and most of them did. Except the groundguards, who had snickered in haughty amusement at everyone else.
Well, we can’t all be talented and perfect, Mobreigh had thought, shooting them a glare they didn’t see. It was probably for the better, he wasn’t about to make enemies on day one. So he had taken to walking alongside Tika, near the perimeter of the group. She walked in a stony silence, a shotgun strapped to the top of her backpack, and a pistol on her leg.
It had been a while since he had seen her in work mode. Tika could be a real hardass when she wanted to, and when the safety of others was concerned, she seemed to want nothing more in the whole world.
She wasn’t completely cold, though. After about an hour of walking and trying desperately to get used to the spongy texture and rolling unevenness of the dirt, she turned to check in on him. “How’re you holding up, kiddo?” she asked.
Mobreigh shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “This is weird.”
“Yeah,” Tika agreed.
“I never really realized how high up we were,” he continued. “And how big the trees are.”
Tika nodded. “Yeah,” she said again. “Weird stuff.”
“I don’t know what to think about it,” he admitted. “Just seems so unreal to me.”
“You’re not the only one, Mobe,” she said. Her voice sounded a little tight. “We’ve been raised to think treehouses are normal. To be afraid of this. It is still dangerous, after all.”
“I know,” he said.
“But in just these short hours down here,” she continued, “I have discovered so much already. And we’re nowhere near a former seat of civilization.”
Mobreigh nodded. There was so much they didn’t know that a simple rock seemed like the find of the century. He’d stubbed his toe on one earlier and decided that he really didn’t like rocks. But they were real, they existed in nature. It was so, so weird.
And there were growths on the trees, here at the bottom. Weird tiered outcroppings that he couldn’t identify. Moss and lichens everywhere. There was so much life in a place they had all given up for dead. It was almost cheerful to think about.
“I bet the archivist is going crazy over all this new stuff,” Mobreigh said, half stifling a laugh.
“Call her by her name, Mobe,” Tika said. “Do I have to remind you? Cate was almost our sister in law.”
“I know,” he said. Truth was, Mobreigh liked Cate. She had an almost motherly way about her, in the same way a dog would put her children above all else and fight to the death for them. She was intelligent, and Mobreigh admired the work she had done establishing the archive back home.
But when Selsdon died, she had withdrawn completely back into herself, and thrown herself at whatever work there was to do. She’d barely said a single word to Mobreigh and Tika since.
He understood. Their faces were a painful reminder of what she had lost. In a way, she was the same to them, but she was a friend.
They had worried about her.
“Mobe,” Tika said. “Do you want to go talk to her? I think she might appreciate something familiar right about now.”
Mobreigh shook his head. He scanned the crowd for her red hair, and found it hunched over a notebook even as she walked. “She’s busy,” he said. “Real busy, it looks like.”
“Of course she is,” Tika said. “Maybe when we stop for the night we can pay her a quick visit while dinner’s cooking.”
“Yeah,” Mobreigh said. “That sounds good.”

But when the time came and people crowded around their fires, Cate was surrounded by people reporting to her. Mobreigh had suggested to Tika that maybe they should leave her alone and let her rest once she could. Tika had nodded sagely in agreement, setting down her backpack and getting their dinner started.
Mobreigh heard footsteps approaching, and his heart skipped a beat before he realized they were too regular to be anything but a living person.
“Hey,” said a familiar voice. “Can I sit with you guys?”
He looked up into Toby Hawthorne’s face. And froze.
“I… I,” Mobreigh started. “I, uh. I didn’t know you were here.”
“What?” Toby asked. “I thought I told you.”
Mobreigh shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. We’re here now.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Toby said.
Mobreigh patted the ground next to him. “Here,” he said. “Sit.”
Toby did, sighing and stretching his legs out. “What a day, huh?”
“That’s one way to put it,” Mobreigh agreed. “My feet are screaming bloody murder.”
Toby laughed. “Yeah, mine too. I think all of us can say the same thing,” he said.
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Mobreigh said. “At least we’ll get used to it eventually.”
Toby nodded in agreement. “So, uh,” he started. “What’s cooking?”
“Oh, is that why you’re here?” Mobreigh teased.
Toby’s hands went up defensively. “No, no, no,” he said quickly. “I stashed a couple bird wraps from lunch myself.”
“Clever bastard.”
Toby shrugged. “There were leftovers.”
It seemed reasonable enough. Mobreigh turned back to the actual question. “I… I’m honestly not sure what Tika’s making. Looks like it’s gonna be some kind of flatbread filling, though.”
“Yum,” Toby said.
“Yum,” Mobreigh agreed.
“Hey Mobe,” Toby started.
“Hm?”
“Do you think this was the right choice?”
“What?” Mobreigh asked.
“This whole thing,” Toby said, waving his arm in a sweeping gesture to the rest of the camp.
Mobreigh shrugged. “I dunno. Don’t really think it’s my call to make.” It was a copout and they both knew it, but Toby took it without complaint.
“I guess you’re right,” he said. “I’m just worried.”
Mobreigh nodded again. “I think we all are,” he said. “I don’t really know how to feel about this after all that’s happened.”
“What do you mean?” Toby asked. He looked worried.
“You don’t know?” Mobreigh asked. He hadn’t been very public about his mourning, but news traveled. Apparently not enough, though.
Toby frowned. “Know what?”
“Oh,” Mobreigh said. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against his bag. “A few months ago now Tika and I lost our brother to the zombies. He was a groundguard.”
Toby’s face sank. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. Mobe, I’m so sorry.”
Mobreigh shrugged. “It is what it is, I guess. I miss him though.”
“Hey,” Toby said. “Hey, come here.” And he pulled Mobreigh into a tight hug. Mobreigh sat there in his arms completely speechless. It felt so good to be held, but the shock that it was real blocked most of the goodness off. He gingerly hugged Toby back, patting the back of his shoulder. And then he started crying.
And Toby didn’t shy away. He stayed, and comforted Mobreigh and brushed his hands through Mobreigh’s hair. And even when the tears had stopped, he didn’t let go. It was something Mobreigh had never experienced, even with his own family. It was… Incredible.
Toby stayed with him through dinner and their first night on the ground.