We had learned early on that survival meant staying hidden and working together. The world was far from civilized anymore. Often times I found myself wondering what the word even meant now that outsiders had become the enemy, along with the dead. Any lone travelers were our best hope of finding food and water, but it was becoming more and more challenging so far into the change. Most were smart enough to form groups, alliances, in order to pull resources to survive. Sarah and I had tried in Texas, but not long after we understood how better off we were going solo. As women in a failing world we were targeted almost instantly by the men.

The group we'd joined up with in Texas had been under the leadership of Oscar Kimball, an army veteran who had been present during the fallout in Dallas. He had warned any survivors that trickled into the Texarkana camp that any who wished to stay had to abide by the rules: pull your weight, respect one another, don't get bit. Pulling our own weight was the easy part, so was avoiding any dead heads, but respecting the scumbags that seemed to wonder their way into camp became harder with each passing day. We'd had witnessed the same nasties watching us on more than one occasion, even being so bold as to offer to bunk with them for 'survival purposes'. Sarah had actually been the one to threaten a knife to the nut sack; the man had mistakenly assumed she was an easy enough target for ass grabbing. He quickly backed off and I'd nearly tackled her to the ground with how proud I'd been.

The few women that had joined prior to and even after couldn't seem to point their moral compass true north. Forget ethics and morality when survival was at stake. It was sickening to see them throw themselves into their beds and practically beg for protection and full bellies and not have to lift a single finger. Sarah and I'd found that working to earn our keep gave us more satisfaction than apocalyptic John Goodman in the sack. That and the number of STDs floating around camp was suffocating.

Oscar had been the one to suggest we head off on our own, simply for our own wellbeing.

"If anyone of these fuckers can make it out there, it's you two. I have faith in you." He'd told me.

Harnessing the male sex drive was becoming an endless task and he could no longer ensure our safety within the group. Even exiling us he made sure we were well taken care of by supplying us with a car, food and water to last us about a week, and the weapons they came with. I held a deeply-rooted respect for the man, I couldn't name a single soul that would willing risk the ire of their group in such a way. Oscar had instructed us to make our way to Washington, DC to a safe zone that had been established early on. He'd mapped out a route following Highway 82 to Atlanta and from there follow along Interstate 20 before jumping onto I-95 near the Carolinas and making our way north. Map Quest made this shit look like a cake walk. Sticking close to the border states was the safest route, giving us an escape to the shore should we need it.

Unfortunately, the plan changed not long into our journey, major roads had become the dead heads' playground. It was unknown whether or not our original plan was still in the cards for us or if the area surrounding DC had fallen within the past few months, but it was our best bet.

The car had gotten us to Winona, Mississippi within a day or so which was better than nothing, but still left us nowhere near Birmingham, the first major pit stop on our map. That drive had been split into two days and left us stranded along US-82. Lifting a ride wasn't the problem, you learned a few tricks of the trade along the road and hotwiring a vehicle was one of many, but when fuel had been syphoned from most every vehicle abandoned along the road way it ate away your time. That had been two days ago and alas we had little to show for our efforts. Half a tank of gas was all that we were able to scrounge up, giving us just enough fuel to make it into the outer rim of Birmingham, from there we'd skirt around the south end of the city.

"Jess, can we take a break? Please?" The sigh of frustration with Sarah's request went uncheck before it escaped my lips. The sun had reached its highest point in the sky nearly an hour ago, meaning we only had a few hours of sufficient sunlight left and we were barely 20 minutes east of Birmingham.

"There's a gas station 5 miles down. We can make it." I shrugged the heavy pack strung over my shoulders in hopes of evenly distributing the weight. The damned thing seemed to gain an extra pound with each passing day, but not from survival necessities. Food and water were becoming scarcer the further we went, but makeshift weapons and camping gear were in high supply. With any luck we would be able to scavenge some sort of nourishment at the next stop.

Along the way I had a strict rule when scavenging: stick to the main road. I didn't want to risk getting separated from Sarah in a strange city, but unfortunately for us any places along the main drag of US-82 had already been well picked over. We had a couple of canned peaches, baked beans, and stale potato chips to show for our efforts.

"What do we do then?" Wasn't that the golden question? There's no telling what would be waiting for us.

"I don't know yet. Just stick close."

The two of us continued down our path in silence for another two hours before catching a glimpse of an abandoned shopping center and gas station. My heart jumped into my throat with the possibility of not only food, water and supplies but a mode of transportation. Atlanta was the next major stop on our map and at least another 120 miles east of our current location. Walking would not only be brutal and draining, but dangerous. There weren't many backroads with a direct path into the city, so the main highway was our best bet until outside the city limits.

"What is it?" Sarah whispered over my shoulder.

I shrugged off my pack and pulled a pair of binoculars from the main zipper pouch. We hid ourselves behind a grouping of crumpled, abandoned vehicles 200 yards from the gas station. As I scanned the vicinity I immediately took note of at least three dead heads wondering in the parking lot. Where there were three there was a dozen. A vending machine outside of the gas station caught my eye as well and my stomach ached in return.

"Three, maybe more. I can't tell yet." I answered, shoving the binoculars back into the pack. "Maybe food and water, too." I glanced skywards and realized our time was running short if we wanted to have this done before dusk.

We began to devise a plan of action as Sarah adjusted the sheathed machete against her hip. She was turning out to be a real Lara Croft, apocalyptic style. "I'll go in first, take out the three, while you come in behind. If anymore show up I need you to cover me." Sarah nodded in understanding. This had become routine for us, me taking the lead and Sarah covering the rear. We had a great system going, one that was continuing to keep us alive, so it damn sure seemed to be working out. "We'll raid the machine out front, the noise should attract anything inside so keep a look out."

I pulled the holstered Ruger from my hip and checked the mag, fourteen with one in the chamber, then grasped my trusted Ka Bar in my right hand. I peered over the hood of the car we were currently crouched behind and subconsciously rolled my teeth over my bottom lip. Two cars were parked out front, a VW station wagon and an older Jeep Cherokee; either vehicle would be a saving grace for us if they had the fuel. The problem was our time would be even more limited if we were to attempt starting one of the vehicles. The window until nightfall was closing by the minute.

"I can make it." Sarah declared as she dropped down into a crouching position and I looked to my sister in surprise. "The cars. I can make it there and try to get one running."

"Since when do you know jack shit about cars?"

Sarah smirked. "Pastor Raymond's son, Eli." I glared at her. Pastor Raymond can turn to a dead head and go straight to H-E-double hockey sticks for all I cared. I still had nightmares about Wednesday night bible studies and 'etiquette' lessons with his wife, Lorelei. "He'd ditch home economics everyday Senior year and we'd go to his house when Pastor Raymond and Lorelei weren't home. Taught me everything I know."

Gag me. I guess it's a good thing little ole Eli Raymond was skipping out on home ec, not sex ed.

I shook my head, "No, it's too risky."

Sarah was already shrugging off her pack and pulling out a rolled-up utility belt from a side pocket. Sweet Jesus. She wasn't kidding. "It's our only shot and you know it. I know my way around an engine, Jess." She pulled a set of plyers and a small screwdriver from the utility belt before neatly rolling it again.

Where was this nifty skill set back in Winona, sis?

"I said no."

Sarah ceased closing her pack to look at me in determination. I was as stubborn as they came, but Sarah wasn't far behind. We'd been known to butt heads back in the day, and it never turned out pretty. On one occasion Sarah had accidently punched me in the nose during a playful match of boxing, playing quickly went out the window as soon as crimson began dripping from my nose.

In the last few months Sarah had relied on my directive, but it was time to help take charge. We were a team and she felt it necessary to assert her own willingness to lead and be more than Robin to my Batman.

"We need one of those cars, Jess. You know how to get it started?" She already knew the answer to that question. No. I wasn't the one screwin' around with Pastor Raymond's kid.

I looked away from her and nibbling on my lower lip in frustration. Sarah's safety was my top priority these days, more so than my own. As soon as we took out the first three dead heads we would have a limited window to successfully gather food and supplies. That meant one of us would have to work on the car while the other raided the convenient store, meaning me. Sure, Sarah knew her way around an engine, but she was also the fastest between the two for us which narrowed our window even more. The time it would take Sarah to ghost through that store would double for me.

The possible scenarios began to play through my mind as I contemplated her suggestion. We'd take out the first three, I would raid the vending machine while Sarah kept look out, but the noise would most definitely attract others. That's where the worrying began. If I left her alone with the vehicles that would leave her vulnerable to dead heads looking for their next meal of Texan barbeque. On the other hand, I could keep look out while Sarah went to work then checkout the store, but that would waste time and efforts as well as valuable daylight.

It was a hard decision, but I already knew what the final result would be whether I liked it or not. With a defeated sigh I gave her a single nod, one that was met with a sly smile that I did my best to ignore. Looking to the roamers staggering through the parking lot I began making mental notes of each. The first two were still somewhat fresh and would be the quickest and put up the most fight which meant dispatching them together was going to be a challenge.

"You take the one on the left and I'll take the right," I said.

Once those two were taken care of the last would be an easy kill. The damned thing must have turned close to the beginning because it's clothing was in discolored shreds; a significant amount of hair was missing, and it's skin seemed to be sloughing off in globs of rotting flesh. Was this thing a man or a woman at one point? It was hard to tell. After removing the first three it would be imperative to dispatch any others before we set to work.

I gently opened the driver side door of one of the wrecked vehicles we were currently hiding behind. Turning to Sarah I motioned for the packs and quickly shoved the into the floorboard and did my best to press the door close without making too much noise. Other scavengers were a constant possibility and like us they'd waste no time in snatching up our stuff. I looked to Sarah who was nervously bouncing on the balls of her feet in a crouching position, she nodded to indicate her readiness. Let's get this party started.

I was the first to slide out and make my way to the trio of roamers, eyes closing in on my target, Sarah saddled up next to me, machete poised in her right hand. As if sensing our presence, the first two turned towards us with gaping mouths and guttural moans. I veered off to the right, continuing to analyze my target. It limped noticeably on it's left side and how it's foot seemed to barely make a two-inch clearance off the ground – a weak spot. This one would be slow if I were able to find an opening on the left. My eyes drifted to Sarah briefly who was currently sizing up her own bag of nasty. I took in a ragged breath as I watched the roamer lunge for her sister, having to trust in her ability to take care of herself, but my moment of unease was put to rest. Sarah quickly side stepped the attack and effortlessly brought the blade of the machete down on the outstretched arms, effectively removing the limbs.

I smirked and whispered to herself, "Show off." I turned again to the roamer in front of mw that was closing in. "You got the other one?" I called out to Sarah.

"Got it." Sarah's confidently called back. I could hear the crunching of bone, and the lack of snarling indicated she'd made her first kill and was presumably moving on to her next.

I circled around the roamer like a lion hunting its prey, being patient, preferring to make my kill with as little effort as possible. If I was able to approach on the left side it would have a more difficult time of retaliating. I found my opportunity when Sarah quickly took out her second roamer, drawing the attention of my own. Like lightning I darted forward swinging my right leg outwards and connecting with it's left shin, briefly immobilizing it before my foot came crashing down along the calf. The bone snapped in half and I tried my best not to cringe from the sound. My arms darted around the back of the neck and grabbed a fist full of matted hair. The roamer gurgled, and a large blob of goo oozed out of its mouth and landed on my forearm. Thank God I had a tolerable gag reflex because this shit was nasty. Boney fingers latched onto the front of my T-shit, tugging me forward. With as much force as I could muster I yanked its head back and at the same time slammed my Ka Bar into its forehead. The snarls and flailing arms subsided, and I pulled her weapon out, wiping the blood off on the roamer's jeans and dropping the body to the ground. Even though had been quick and made little noise we were still on high alert as we both scanned the vicinity. Nothing, yet.

"Help me with this thing, will ya?" We approached the vending machine and inspected the sides for possible points of entry. Glass took up the entire front, but I was hesitant to break it and create any more unnecessary noise.

"We can break it." Sarah whispered.

I nodded as I chewed the inside of my cheek. We could, it'd be the easiest route, but it would be like ringing the dinner bell. Problem was we weren't invited to sit at the table. "Get to work on the cars. See what you can do. I'll check inside for supplies." Sarah nodded before turning to the Jeep and opening the driver's door while I racked her knuckles against the front windows of the convenient store. Cupping my hands around my eyes I peered through the glass and smile internally when there was no sign of anything inside.

"Hey, Jess." I turned and looked to my sister with a quizzical arch of my brow. "If you find any Reese's…"

I smiled. "I'll keep an eye out." Sarah gave her a toothy grin before setting to work on removing the covering of the steering column.

With a snort and a shake of my head I went to enter the store. I half expected the door to be locked but was pleasantly surprised to find it opened, but still kept a level head. If it's been open this long there's no telling who could have already raided the place or what could currently be inside. Bypassing my Ka Bar I sheathed it into her thigh holster and replaced the weapon instead with my Ruger. Guns were a last resort kind of thing and this seemed to be one of those situations.

As I entered the store my nose crinkled at the stale stench that greeted me. It was like combining an NFL locker room with a mortuary, athlete's foot and death seemed an adequate description. Looking around I noticed a few over turned shelves, plastic bags covering the floor as well as other random objects. To my left was a display filled with novelty items like 'Welcome to Alabama' postcards, Crimson Tide T-shirts and other souvenirs. There was an endcap with hot and cold coolers shoved at the bottom, I grabbed one and slid it onto her left shoulder.

The checkout counter was to the immediate right and I cautiously peered over the counter, nothing. Turning to the rest of the store, pistol elevated in a ready position, I glanced from aisle to aisle; this place was like a gold mine; it'd hardly been touched. Signs of scavengers everywhere, paper and plastic bags filled with water and nonperishables lay around me, but there was still a large variety of resources. Obviously, whoever had been here before the end was in a hurry judging from the overturned shelves, but nothing else had been touched. I holstered my Ruger and set to work by first filling the cooler with whatever canned foods I could find – green beans, chili, peaches, pears you name it.

The first bag had been filled quickly so I went for a second, briefly glancing out the window to see that Sarah had now moved on to the station wagon. I knocked against the window, drawing her attention, giving a thumbs up to question if everything was gravy outside. Sarah looked all around her, hand hovering over the Beretta at her hip. She looked to me and offered a smile before throwing a double thumbs up my way and then setting to work once again on the station wagon. I turned and grabbed a second cooler and shoveled bottled water and Gatorade into it. Going down an aisle filled with camping gear and I snatched up a couple of woven blankets, batteries, lanterns and flash lights and shoved them into a small satchel bag.

Finding a gold mine like this was becoming a rarity the further you traveled off the beaten path, forget about finding anything along the main roads, so this was odd considering it's proximity to the highway. Used to I would have felt guilty raiding all of the essentials, but times had changed since the beginning. It was every man for themselves now.

The sound of an engine struggling to turn over brought my attention outside. I could see Sarah's feet positioned outside of the driver's side while she lay flat on her back in the floorboard. I gathered my findings as Sarah successfully started the station wagon. I beamed at her through the window, throwing another thumbs up. As I passed the checkout counter something caught my eye and she bent down gathering a couple of partially melted candy bars.

"Good work, grease monkey." Smiling and I tossed a candy bar to her. Sarah caught it with ease and jumped in joy upon seeing the bright orange packaging. She tore open the wrapper and sighed in satisfaction as she bit into the first peanut butter filled round.

I popped the back hatch and inspected the inside of the vehicle. There was a spare tire that had so many cracks in the rubber that the Grand Canyon would be jealous, I threw it out and set the bags from the store in its place. A jerry can was shoved against the back seats, reaching for it I shook the contents and nearly burst into tears upon realizing it was nearly full. God bless the soul that didn't make it back to this car because they had given the us the grandest of gifts. A trash bag full of clothing took the opposite corner, we decided they'd go through it at the next pit stop. The less time they spent in the area the better.

Closing the hatch, I called for my sister, "Let's grab our packs then we'll hit the machine."

"What'dya find inside?" Sarah was gathering up her tools.

I hefted the last cooler bag into the back of the vehicle. "A good bit actually." I cracked the bags open to show off our winnings. Sarah peered inside, smiling like the Grinch who stole Christmas.

"Hot damn." She picked out a small can of frank and beans. "Beanie Weenies for dinner?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

Ten minutes later we were fisting handfuls of snacks into plastic bags and tossing them into the back with the other goodies we'd scrounged up. It'd been a damned good day for us, one that we had desperately needed. Surviving was becoming harder with each passing day but surviving meant depending on one another.

Sarah and I may be sisters, but we two completely different people that needed situations such as this in order to strengthen our bond. It had taken the end of the world for me to realize how little I knew of my sister and I wasn't about to allow her to be taken away. For too long had I put my work before anything else, including my family. Looking back on it now I'd used it as an excuse to distance myself for the strained relationship with my mother as well as my sister, then turned around and placed the blame on their shoulders. Sarah had always detested me for it and in the end, I agreed with her. It was my own doing that I would never have closure within that chapter of my life.

People were the answer to survival now, without someone else or a group you could never hope to make it – that was my driving force. Though we were strong together we needed more in order to hold any chance of making it through this. We needed a group we could trust. A place we could call home.

Happy Halloween my lovely readers. If your little ones are anything like my little Rainbow Dash they're running around in their costume begging to go trick-or-treat. Be safe this evening!

This was one of my favorite Jess and Sarah interactions, so I couldn't bring myself to nix it. Enjoy and let me know what you think! Keep in mind that reviews are what keep the writer's world going round. I live for them!

celia azul: Your comment made me laugh out loud! I do plan on adding a scene in somewhere along the line, so we'll see how it pans out for Daryl. ;)