Tom carefully checked his weapon as he felt the plane descend. He'd spent most of his life running...running from his step-dad, from the enemy, from the police, from Samantha Willis, running in circles regarding Anya, and he was done. He'd either eliminate the need to constantly be looking over his shoulder or he'd be dead.

Greg, Anya, Al, and Naj scoured every building on the airfield while Abby sat with Peter.

"Mum, were you and that Tom looking for me at the trailer park?" Peter asked quietly.

"Yes. You were there?" Abby asked. Peter nodded. "Didn't you see me?" Abby demanded.

Peter shook his head. "I only saw the man with the gun."

Abby's shoulders slumped. If only she'd shouted a bit more, they might have found Peter sooner...

"Mum," Peter began, "I...I...I was the one who shot him."

"What?"

"He was in the woods. He said he knew you, but Whitaker said he was there to hurt me. I knew he'd been looking for me before and he was the one who tied up Billy...Billy was nice to me." Peter hung his head.

Abby took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around her son. "Billy wasn't a nice man, Peter."

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered. "Can we help the others look? I owe him."

Abby nodded. "Let's go."

Tom waited silently as Landry and his goons disembarked. Once the plane was completely silent, he slowly and carefully inched the door open. He made it out unnoticed and took cover behind the conveniently place decorative shrubs. After nightfall, he began scouting. Not far from the landing strip was a large complex with two guards patrolling the door. It was an easy matter to slip past them, given their bio-hazard suits limited their peripheral vision and dampened their hearing.

Tom made his way through the complex, frowning in disgust. It wasn't a lack of intelligence that left doors unlocked and corridors unmonitored—it was arrogance. Nobody expected this little haven to be infiltrated. Tom felt a grim satisfaction as he touched every available surface. He was willing to bet the people here hadn't been exposed to the virus and many of them wouldn't be immune. He was only letting nature take its course.

His first goal was to find a first aid station. His shoulder needed some attention. The bullet had gone clean through, missing major blood vessels and bone, but he needed bandages and probably some antibiotics just to be on the safe side.

His shoulder taken care of, Tom began searching for the lab. He knew the first order of business would be to analyze the vaccine.

It didn't take him long to find it. He carefully peeked in the window and wondered why top secret labs always had doors with windows. Several scientists were inside, one leaning over a microscope, one intently reading a computer screen, one running some kind of machine Tom didn't recognize. He found a dark niche and concealed himself. Once the lab had emptied for the night, Tom entered. He examined the entire room before packing up the remaining vials of vaccine and taking the cooler with him.

The plan was simple: let the virus do its work on the occupants. Without the vaccine, most of them would be taken care of. All Tom had to do was hide until he had the opportunity to get back into the lab. All he would have to do is open the natural gas jets and ignite his lighter. The complex and any information they might have managed to gather would be destroyed. With luck and vigilance, there would be nobody left alive to come after Tom and his friends for either their knowledge or their blood.

As evening fell at the airfield, everyone regrouped. "Tom's not here," Anya concluded, fighting back tears.

"He couldn't have driven away, we would have seen him," Greg added.

"Naj and I last saw him heading toward the landing strip," Al contributed.

"He was on the plane," Anya breathed. "It's the only explanation."

The seven heaved a collective sigh. There was no way to find Tom now. Not even Naj could imagine staying to look any longer. That hurt Anya more than anything—Naj the eternal optimist didn't believe they could find Tom.

Abby finally spoke. "There's no use staying here. We might as well head for the coast like we planned. If Tom..." she kept herself from saying 'if Tom's alive.' "If Tom ever comes looking for us, that's where he'll start."

Tom's plan worked. Within hours, people at the lab were falling ill. The few who didn't immediately went in search of the vaccine, but Tom had hidden himself well. Within days, the population of 200 had dwindled to less than twenty. Tom lifted a set of keys off a guard's body and smuggled both the vaccine and a goodly amount of supplies out to one of the lab's black vans. He was ready.

Tom didn't look back as the lab, and the few who had survived, exploded.

Anya sat alone on the balcony despite the cold. The others were huddled inside around the fireplace with the new friends they'd met. If she cared to glance inside, she would no doubt see Nate watching her. He'd made no secret about how attractive he found her and he was incredibly persistent in his attentions, no matter how apathetic she was.

Anya wouldn't allow herself to shiver as the chilly breeze swept over her. If Nate saw, he'd either come outside and drape a blanket around them both or force her inside and she wasn't in the mood for company. Nate and Greg kept telling her it had been weeks, that it was time for her to move on, time to admit that Tom wasn't coming back, but Anya refused to accept that. She'd seen their little troupe reunited in unexpected ways so many times that she wasn't going to give up hope.

"You'll catch your death of cold sitting out here," a voice rasped. "You'd think a doctor would know better."

Anya didn't bat an eye. "If I get sick, you'll just have to nurse me until I get well again."

Tom smirked at her. "That would kill you for sure."

Anya stood and slowly approached Tom, who was leaning against the railing. "I'm willing to risk it." She locked eyes with him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. They just stood, gazing at each other, until the door to the balcony slammed. "Anya? Are you all right out here?" Nate called.

Anya grimaced and reluctantly tore her eyes away. "I'm fine," she called.

Nate walked around the corner and stopped short. "Who's this?" he demanded.

Tom narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. "I should be asking you the same question."

"Tom, this is Nate," Anya explained, not missing how Nate's face fell or the fact that Tom noticed Nate's expression. "Come on," she said, gently tugging on Tom's hand. "We should tell the others you're back."

Tom nodded and as they walked past Nate heading inside, Tom pointedly put his arm around Anya's shoulders and drew her closer to his side.