Author Note: I'm putting a twist on what was already a complicated story line for Tom. What if the girl he rescued had not been bitter? What if she had been the thing that reignited the love in Tom's heart? Two months is a long time to travel with someone and not get to know them.

I'm making her 20 years old in this story.

Chapter 1 Screams

The thought of taking care of someone on his way back to his boys had not entered his mind. Tom knew taking on someone else's problems would only hinder him and slow him down. But when he heard the screams, he reacted before his brain could stop him. Seeing that there was one woman already down told him the situation was perilous.

He couldn't tell what the girl was saying but the man was clearly yelling, "Quit struggling! If you don't let go of that bag I'll shoot you." The girl who was struggling with the large hairy man had no one to help her. Tom's morals were about to put him in a hot spot once again. Tom got the jump on him and after a short struggle managed to get the pistol he had been using to threatening the girl. "If I see you again I'll use this!" Tom really didn't like killing people, but some people could not be trusted. All they had in this new world was the trust that the person beside them would not leave them high and dry while your back was turned. Tom had lost all patience and apathy for anyone who would steal or bully a weaker person. Luckily the man ran away.

Tom checked the pistol while catching his breath. The girl, who was maybe not as young as Tom had first surmised, was clutching the yellow duffle bag that the man had wanted. Tom checked the gun and found it had two unspent bullets in it. He told the girl his name was Tom and that he wasn't going to hurt her. He told her that he wanted to look at her bike. As he walked towards it, she panicked and screamed at him that he couldn't have it. He took a step back and thought about the situation that he was in.

"I've been walking for weeks. I'm going to Boston. Would you want to ride in that direction?" He asked hopefully.

The girl thought for a moment then glanced at the woman lying off to the side. "Okay, I'll go towards Boston. We can take the bike, but only if we don't leave her like that."

Tom had dug the first foot of the grave when the girl, whose face was a mixture of dirt and tears, told him the woman was her mother. "I had thought as much." That was all that was said until the digging was done. She had bright red hair that fell about her face in tight curls. When the digging was done Tom looked for a sheet to wrap her mother in but couldn't find anything. She looked around and found some flowers growing nearby in a forgotten flowerbed. They were tall with a few blooms growing on them.

The young lady produced a large knife from a pocket of her jean jacket and cut the flowers down. She was wearing a white peasant blouse under the jacket and a black beanie hat. She put the bouquet on her mother's face and then picked up the shovel and began burying her mother. Tom stepped to her side quickly and said "You don't have to do that, I'll do it."

"No. She was my mother. I'll bury her." The girl slowly scooped the disturbed earth back into the hole until her mother was completely buried. She sat down next to the grave and began talking. "It's for the best really. She had fibromyalgia. Her back and legs were hurting her so bad she could barely walk. We were traveling with some people from our town and I asked them to stop so that I could find a something for her to ride on. They said no and kept going. So it's just been me and her for about a month. I found the bike the day they abandoned us. I think the noise of it is how that guy found us. He wanted our food."

They didn't talk much after that. Tom got the bike running and she reluctantly climbed up behind him. They rode for about a mile before Tom saw a bike shop. He found the parts he needed to get the bike running right. Neither of them felt like sleeping the first night so they traveled until noon the next day before they stopped and sheltered under a bridge. They lay on the embankment about five feet from each other, in the shade.

When Tom woke up she was sitting up and staring at him. It was almost dark. "You never told me your name," Tom said, running his heads through his hair and shaking himself fully awake.

"Callie. What's yours, Tom?"

"Yeah. I have three sons, my oldest is 17. How old are you?"

"I'm 20. How old are your others?"

"14 and 9. I'm worried about them. They're with good people but I wish they were with me. I know they'll be near Boston. I think I can make it there before winter."

"I'm sure we can. Are the people they're with all as nice as you?"

Tom smiled. "Define nice. I almost shot that man. I steal from every home and store I come across."

Callie shook her head no. "I don't think it's considered stealing anymore. You make sure the homes are abandoned right? You have to take what you can find or starve. That man would have stole from me. At least all he wanted was my food. I've come across several others that... wanted me. For some reason, they're always surprised to see me armed."

"Do you mean the knife? You really need a sidearm like a glock." Tom stood and stretched.

Callie shrugged, "I think this is a .38 special. It must be special because I can't find any bullets for it. I've held on to it because it's the only gun I've got." She slowly pulled a small handgun from her other coat pocket.

"Let me see it. I don't have any ammo on me, but we can look." Tom held out his hand. Callie reluctantly shuffled toward him and handed him the gun. Tom gave her a smile and looked at the gun.

"Yeah it's a .38 if we can break open the safes of the next few places we come to, I bet we can find ammo that will work with it."

Tom handed the gun back to her and she gingerly took it from him and put it back in her pocket.